[ They had been but one horrifying part of the vision he'd had. Somehow, the people had seemed much more frightening, at the time. But it had all been frightening. Almost enough to make him not try to find any more memories, if not for his incorrigible sense of curiosity, and the lingering unease that has dogged his steps ever since he embarked on this difficult new career. ]
Could you have been looking into... the future, maybe? A future life? [ He rubs at his chin. ] I don't know why that feels more far-fetched than a past-life, but it does. Still, they're equally as possible, don't you think?
What sort of monsters did you see?
[ Maybe it's a warning. A premonition. Gods, the cultists might be right -- the end days are coming. ]
A future life? [That sounds...extraordinary. Implausible. Claude is right, in a sense -- they're both equally possible...or maybe impossible? Every fiber of his being is telling him that it couldn't be. That it was just a dream. Don't look for meaning in it.]
If that's the case, maybe I should try a career as a fortune teller.
[It's a flippant response, lacking in any meaning or association...but it makes him pause anyway. Fortune, seeing the future, a spread of cards on a table, a blue room--
"Do you believe in fortune telling?"
He exhales, trying to focus on the question at hand.]
It looked...almost human. But it had eight arms and blue skin...and a trident. [He frowns.] I didn't get the sense that it would hurt me. It was more like...a friend. Or an ally.
A friend. Now, that's interesting. [ Oh, whatever. He'll stop pretending as though he's speaking of yarns others have spun. What use is it pretending that he hasn't seen the same bullshit as everyone else? He rubs at his mouth, trying to imagine such a frightful creature in his mind's eye. ]
I saw monsters too. Big, horrible things, the size of a building, wearing frightful tasseled masks. They definitely weren't friends.
[ But they were working with humans, clearly. Maybe that makes Yu the sort of person to be able to command monsters? ]
Do you recall in what context you saw that creature of yours? If it was near human, did it manage to speak?
The size of a building? [His eyes widen by a fraction. That's an alarming notion.] Did you see them in Aldrip...?
[Could something like that, huge and terrifying and destructive, really happen here? Are they all in danger?
The creature in his dream bore no mask, and while it looked frightful enough, he also felt...almost a feeling of kinship, looking at it. As if it reminded him of a friend. Did it say anything...? He has to think about that for a moment.]
"Thou art I," [he murmurs, uncertain, but as he says those words, his breath catches in his throat. Something in his head, longing to get out, longing to whisper more of those words-- ...a shudder runs through him, leaving him with a thoughtful frown.]
... It means something, I think. But I'm not sure what.
No. Not in Aldrip. Someplace else -- a place I've neither seen nor heard of before. [ He shrugs. ] It makes sense, for the both of us. It would be a sorry thing if all our past lives and all our future lives were to take place in one poky little town.
[ It would be a sorry thing if he was stuck here for all of this life, he privately thinks. But something seems to sway him to remain here, keeping him grounded, stuck in the perpetuity of dissatisfaction. He doesn't know why. Thinking about it too hard gives him a headache.
He'd rather get a headache about more fascinating things, like this kid in front of him and his weird little friend. ]
But I'm more interested in this vision of yours. Thou art I, huh? [ He taps at his chin. ] It sounds very mystical. An extension of your spirit, perhaps? There are some religious beliefs, in far-off places I've only ever heard of, that our spirits exist somewhere outside of our bodies. It would make sense that they'd appear in stranger ways than we'd expect.
[That should be a relief. Somehow, it feels more...foreboding, like they're on the cusp of something they can never come back from.]
That's true, [his tone is thoughtful as he makes that quiet admission. And truly, there is something a little familiar in the idea; he's lived in Aldrip for most of his life, but somehow, it just feels...expected, going to different places like that. Like he should be used to it.
I am thou. His hand itches to-- to what? To call on something, to pull something into existence.]
Of the soul, maybe. [He says it with a confidence he can't source, like it only makes sense. But Claude makes an interesting point.] Maybe there's something to that. When you read about gods in myths and stories...maybe that's what they are in the first place. Aspects of humanity.
[It's a weird thought, but...it doesn't feel wrong, either. Not entirely. He huffs out a soft laugh.]
I certainly wasn't expecting them to appear in a playing card, though.
[ Claude frowns at Yu. The spirit and the soul seem so close that they should almost be indistinguishable from each other. He doesn't think that this kid is saying that from a place of religious zealotry, though, nor does he think that he's saying it from a place of someone who enjoys nitpicking other people's words. No, it's as though he's remembering something.
Past lives, or future lives, coming home to roost. Claude can understand that, at least partway. But what he can't understand is why, and why all at once. Are they being prepared for some great threat? Will they become these other selves, or regain those horrible memories? Or is it for no reason at all beyond some sort of magical mistake? He inspects Yu above his bridged fingers. ]
You did more than remember the image. You remember what's behind it too, don't you? Deep down. You know enough to have a hunch as to what it could be. [ It's all just speculation, of course. But that's what it feels like. ]
The card is what gave you the memory, right? Maybe they're connected. The one I saw was connected to some sort of war banner, I think. [ He holds up his deck of cards. ]
Do you want to see more of these visions? Or would you rather run away from them?
[The distinction feels meaningful, somehow, in a way that Yu can't quite place. Spirit feels so personal, so individual, and this...whatever this creature is, it comes from something deeper. Like the depths of the ocean -- a sea of...
His eyes flick back to Claude, although he doesn't remember looking back down at the cards, and he nods at the man's speculation. It's right on the money; Yu is close to something. As if he's forgotten something and it's just there at the tip of his tongue. If he can just follow those thoughts, see it through to the very end, he'll figure it out. What's there at the end of that trail? What's waiting for him?
But it's the question that gives him pause.]
I don't, [he admits, because it's the truth, and it doesn't feel right to lie in this case.] If I keep seeing them...I'm afraid of what will happen.
[The life he's carefully cultivated here, the relationships, bonds -- will they still be there if he follows this path? Will he be destroying something he can never get back? And yet...]
... I don't like to run away from things, either, though.
[Running away just feels-- wrong, somehow. His eyes move to the cards, wary and thoughtful.]
Me? [ Claude keeps the card in between two fingers, looking for the world the dealer of fate and mischief that others believe him to be. The thin edge of the card slices through the air as he gestures, as deadly as a knife. ]
I've been running as quickly as I can towards these visions of ours. Not knowing is where danger lies. Living in happy ignorance only lasts so long, and at the end of the day, that very same ignorance won't save you for when the inevitable happens. Rather, it simply makes it harder.
[ His own baggage has made that choice easy. He's not happy here. He's doing well enough; he has financial security, a roof above his head, people to warm his bed, company in the quiet night, but he's not content. The flashes of this other life he keeps seeing are grim, but exciting, filled with more purpose than his aimlessly wandering days. ]
I know what these visions mean as much as you do. It could be I'm just hurtling straight into a trap. [ He places the card - the Joker - face down between them. ] Ultimately, it's up to you.
no subject
[ They had been but one horrifying part of the vision he'd had. Somehow, the people had seemed much more frightening, at the time. But it had all been frightening. Almost enough to make him not try to find any more memories, if not for his incorrigible sense of curiosity, and the lingering unease that has dogged his steps ever since he embarked on this difficult new career. ]
Could you have been looking into... the future, maybe? A future life? [ He rubs at his chin. ] I don't know why that feels more far-fetched than a past-life, but it does. Still, they're equally as possible, don't you think?
What sort of monsters did you see?
[ Maybe it's a warning. A premonition. Gods, the cultists might be right -- the end days are coming. ]
no subject
If that's the case, maybe I should try a career as a fortune teller.
[It's a flippant response, lacking in any meaning or association...but it makes him pause anyway. Fortune, seeing the future, a spread of cards on a table, a blue room--
"Do you believe in fortune telling?"
He exhales, trying to focus on the question at hand.]
It looked...almost human. But it had eight arms and blue skin...and a trident. [He frowns.] I didn't get the sense that it would hurt me. It was more like...a friend. Or an ally.
no subject
I saw monsters too. Big, horrible things, the size of a building, wearing frightful tasseled masks. They definitely weren't friends.
[ But they were working with humans, clearly. Maybe that makes Yu the sort of person to be able to command monsters? ]
Do you recall in what context you saw that creature of yours? If it was near human, did it manage to speak?
no subject
[Could something like that, huge and terrifying and destructive, really happen here? Are they all in danger?
The creature in his dream bore no mask, and while it looked frightful enough, he also felt...almost a feeling of kinship, looking at it. As if it reminded him of a friend. Did it say anything...? He has to think about that for a moment.]
"Thou art I," [he murmurs, uncertain, but as he says those words, his breath catches in his throat. Something in his head, longing to get out, longing to whisper more of those words-- ...a shudder runs through him, leaving him with a thoughtful frown.]
... It means something, I think. But I'm not sure what.
no subject
[ It would be a sorry thing if he was stuck here for all of this life, he privately thinks. But something seems to sway him to remain here, keeping him grounded, stuck in the perpetuity of dissatisfaction. He doesn't know why. Thinking about it too hard gives him a headache.
He'd rather get a headache about more fascinating things, like this kid in front of him and his weird little friend. ]
But I'm more interested in this vision of yours. Thou art I, huh? [ He taps at his chin. ] It sounds very mystical. An extension of your spirit, perhaps? There are some religious beliefs, in far-off places I've only ever heard of, that our spirits exist somewhere outside of our bodies. It would make sense that they'd appear in stranger ways than we'd expect.
no subject
That's true, [his tone is thoughtful as he makes that quiet admission. And truly, there is something a little familiar in the idea; he's lived in Aldrip for most of his life, but somehow, it just feels...expected, going to different places like that. Like he should be used to it.
I am thou. His hand itches to-- to what? To call on something, to pull something into existence.]
Of the soul, maybe. [He says it with a confidence he can't source, like it only makes sense. But Claude makes an interesting point.] Maybe there's something to that. When you read about gods in myths and stories...maybe that's what they are in the first place. Aspects of humanity.
[It's a weird thought, but...it doesn't feel wrong, either. Not entirely. He huffs out a soft laugh.]
I certainly wasn't expecting them to appear in a playing card, though.
no subject
Past lives, or future lives, coming home to roost. Claude can understand that, at least partway. But what he can't understand is why, and why all at once. Are they being prepared for some great threat? Will they become these other selves, or regain those horrible memories? Or is it for no reason at all beyond some sort of magical mistake? He inspects Yu above his bridged fingers. ]
You did more than remember the image. You remember what's behind it too, don't you? Deep down. You know enough to have a hunch as to what it could be. [ It's all just speculation, of course. But that's what it feels like. ]
The card is what gave you the memory, right? Maybe they're connected. The one I saw was connected to some sort of war banner, I think. [ He holds up his deck of cards. ]
Do you want to see more of these visions? Or would you rather run away from them?
no subject
His eyes flick back to Claude, although he doesn't remember looking back down at the cards, and he nods at the man's speculation. It's right on the money; Yu is close to something. As if he's forgotten something and it's just there at the tip of his tongue. If he can just follow those thoughts, see it through to the very end, he'll figure it out. What's there at the end of that trail? What's waiting for him?
But it's the question that gives him pause.]
I don't, [he admits, because it's the truth, and it doesn't feel right to lie in this case.] If I keep seeing them...I'm afraid of what will happen.
[The life he's carefully cultivated here, the relationships, bonds -- will they still be there if he follows this path? Will he be destroying something he can never get back? And yet...]
... I don't like to run away from things, either, though.
[Running away just feels-- wrong, somehow. His eyes move to the cards, wary and thoughtful.]
What would you do?
no subject
I've been running as quickly as I can towards these visions of ours. Not knowing is where danger lies. Living in happy ignorance only lasts so long, and at the end of the day, that very same ignorance won't save you for when the inevitable happens. Rather, it simply makes it harder.
[ His own baggage has made that choice easy. He's not happy here. He's doing well enough; he has financial security, a roof above his head, people to warm his bed, company in the quiet night, but he's not content. The flashes of this other life he keeps seeing are grim, but exciting, filled with more purpose than his aimlessly wandering days. ]
I know what these visions mean as much as you do. It could be I'm just hurtling straight into a trap. [ He places the card - the Joker - face down between them. ] Ultimately, it's up to you.