crankycave | Murphy's Law Strikes Again

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Murphy's Law Strikes Again

[On the Plains of Spite, there is plenty of room to pit yourself against whatever is chasing you down. Celes has been doing this for nearly an hour, sending herself on sprint drills followed by sets of push-ups as close to the lake as she can manage without (probably) having to draw her sword. She finishes a sprint and pauses to heal the ankle she just strained.]

[A shadow falls over her and she looks up warily, to see something alarmingly like a tentacle hovering over her.]

"Fuck."

[She draws her sword]

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I wish I could have lived up to his expectations. I don't think he would have....followed some of the orders I did.

[turning his head away, staring straight at the lake]

... I don't know him, but I don't think he expected more from you than you could give. Everyone makes mistakes, especially when it's difficult to see the truth of what's going on.

And everyone deserves a second chance.

[there really is something very fascinating about that lake. and it has nothing to do with not being sure how conversations happen. nope.]

Yeah. When you grow up surrounded by something, it's hard to see that it's fucked up.

[tips head] I thought I had mine, but then I wound up here. Maybe that's another kind of second chance.

[maybe if we will really hard the tentacle monster will take mercy on us and come back and we can battle and not talk at all. like soldiers. A+]

[boy my lap is really interesting. especially the back of my hands. so interesting.]

I don't think that you can run out of second chances. At least, that's what I hope.

[A+ indeed, words are so much harder than fighting]

[that lake is interesting--did I just see a shadow--false alarm. Damn.]

It would be alarming indeed to think I have already used up all of mine. Atonement is a difficult business.

[goes quiet for a little while, then softly]

... I'm not sure that something like that is possible. I don't think any amount of will could ever change the past. But it's possible to change the future.

If will could change the past...well. That would be something worth pursuing.

How do you change the future, when you're here [waves her shield-hand vaguely to indicate the plains and general environs] instead of where you wronged...whomever you wronged?

[words what are they]

I want to feel like everything happens for a reason, but it's certainly a dangerously alluring prospect. The idea of being able to know better, I mean. But I also know my past makes me who I am now, and that's something I don't want to so casually throw away.

... and I'm afraid I don't have the answer to that.

[exhaling, half in amusement and half in some sort of uncomfortable understanding]

[Is there something wrong with me, that I find a robot easier to relate to than people? There probably is. They didn't breed me for social skills.]

I knew someone who relied entirely on fate to decide everything. He came with me--with us--to fight the greatest military power in the world on the strength of a coin toss. It seems chaotic to me--but i wouldn't be who I am if my life had been otherwise, I guess.

[Humans expect physical contact when they talk like this, don't they? That's what Edgar said, but. Well. Edgar. Do robots expect that?]

[f it helps any, depending on who you ask, this guy's social skills aren't really the best. being that they're mostly really awkward proclamations of stubborn ideals than "skills."]

I don't know about fate either, but being able to believe in something--anything--is an incredibly powerful thing.

[if she's moving closer, he's picked up on it but hasn't expressed anything but slight, resigned sheepishness which may as well be his default expression anyway]

Celes...?

[clasping her hands in her lap] I'm sorry--did I say something wrong?

[she is sitting awkwardly, like she cannot figure out which way she is supposed to move. Because in fact she is very unsure.]

[very quietly] I always believed in the Empire, to the point that I never questioned my orders, but now I'm not sure what to believe in.

[oh. oh. sort of getting the clue, shifting over as unobtrusively as he can, being a giant robot and all, and laying his hand on the ground softly next to her]

... I willingly fought and killed innocents and soldiers alike in a war I thought would bring me justice. Vengeance. Meaning.

Because I believed that I was worth nothing more than that to anyone who saw me, but I was wrong.

[giant robots are great at being unobtrusive!]

[oh. Oh fuck was I seriously that obvious. I'm a general, not some attention-starved twit. This is all the treasure hunter's fault. All of it.]

My Emperor sent me to slaughter a city for no better reason than that he desired it--and I did it, for no better reason than that I was ordered to. Bred for it.

[oh. I guess robots do the touching thing.]

[rests her hand on the ground next to his, not quite touching yet.]

I believed it was right for me to take what I wanted, because I had been given nothing. And that because I had the power, I deserved to take as much as I wanted, at any cost. I believed this so intensely that I was even willing to take from those who accepted me as I was then.

[... laughing quietly] My commanding officer had me imprisoned for my insubordination. I fought my way out. Then even those I thought accepted me as who I thought I was didn't want me.

[pausing, as if he's wondering if the next bit's all right to say out loud] ... But Wing found me.

Power breeds conflict, no matter its form, and no matter the world, I think. Some people are ever reaching for more when their hands are already full.

[slightly sad expression] The Emperor imprisoned me as a traitor and ordered my execution; a resistance force rescued me, somewhat unintentionally, I think. It was...very awkward.

Is Wing your mentor, that you spoke of before?

And some whose hands will never experience a fraction of that feeling.

... I'm sorry. That must have been... difficult to bear.

[glancing down at her with an affectionate expression after another awkward pause, and smiling] Yes. ... he believed in me, not because he was unaware of what I had done, but what I was capable of doing from then on.

That would have been encouraging, to have someone see what you could do instead of what you've done.

[a pause as she tries to figure out how to politely express this]

I am glad you had someone who believed in you.

[fffff soldiers do not talk like this]

[going silent, looking back at the lake, still smiling, then tentatively:]

There may be more of those someones than you realise.

[People are not supposed to be this nice to me.]

[looking perplexed]

Maybe it is just that we have...marked similarities, but you seem more willing to forgive than most I've met.

[funnily enough, reacts just as awkwardly to kindness.]

I'm... Your comrades remained with you, regardless. That must mean something.

[slight snorting sound]

They kept me because I'm good in a fight and could provide intel on their enemy. None of them trusted me. There's a difference between a useful tool and a trusted friend. Or even an acquaintance.

[... snapping his head back to look at her with an expression like she just hit something a little too close to home, and turns away again]

I suppose there's that.

[You're really fucking terrible at this, you know that, Chere? This whole talking to people thing.]

I'm sorry--I didn't mean to, um, upset you.

[laughing slightly, genuine, and looking back at her with a smile]

No. You didn't, really.

But I think that giving someone a chance works both ways.

Both ways? How so?

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