I've only heard of one theory to really explain it, [ comes his answer, serious and accompanied by the furrow of his brows, ] And yeah, I think so, it'd be the same for you. But...
[ but. it's a strange one, the simulation theory, and as much as charles is inclined to believe in it — well. it's not an easy one to explain, not an easy one to hear, and not something he wants to get into, immediately, when he's finally got edwin here with him. ]
Look, Edwin, I promise we can go over all the possibilities, yeah? Just — I haven't seen you for two bloody months.
[ please, can they just postpone the case talk for a bit? and yeah — he knows, if it was anyone else, he'd do the answering, wouldn't really care about how he's feeling, any of it... but with edwin, he doesn't mind asking. doesn't mind being a bit selfish, just for a second. ]
[ Under most circumstances, particularly those pertaining to a case, Edwin might stubbornly refuse to quit until they happened upon some answer, like finishing a chapter in full before closing a partially read book. He doesn't like to leave things in his work unfinished.
But Charles needs him right now, and he understands that, and he wants to be here for him when he apparently hadn't all this time. That particular realization doesn't sit well with him either. ]
Charles. [ He knows that this isn't technically something to fault him with; he knows that sometimes these situations are out of their hands. But how many times has he told Charles that they would never be parted? How many occasions had he given his explicit promise that no one or nothing at all would ever separate them?
And then it had happened — for two months apparently. ] If I knew, if I knew at all that you'd been brought here, I would have followed you much sooner.
[ He would remorselessly burn down an entire universe to find Charles Rowland. ]
[ he can't help the way he breathes out in relief, shoulders sagging just slightly, before the frown on his face is replaced by a small, fond smile. he squeezes edwin's shoulder, then, because, ] Yeah, I know.
[ of course he knows — how could he not, when if the situation was reversed, he'd be saying the same? he knows edwin would have stopped at nothing to find him, which is exactly why he'd been so relieved to know he wouldn't even know to miss him.
realising they're blocking the way to the booth, then, charles grabs edwin's arm and tugs him along so they can start to walk along the street, to — well, somewhere that's not here, in the middle of all the noise of the festival. ]
Told you already, yeah? Not your fault. And besides — least I knew you were back home, safe. Made it easier to be here.
[ it had been the only reason he hadn't tried to burn the whole place down, honestly, the only reason he'd accepted being here so easily; because at least edwin wasn't stuck here, at least edwin wasn't worrying about him, at least he hadn't left edwin alone. ]
[ It is admittedly a relief to be drawn away from the hustle and bustle of the festival; the noises and the crowded spaces hadn't exactly done anything to soothe Edwin's fraying nerves. If anything, it's the metaphorical lifeline of being in Charles' presence, of the two of them being together again, that keeps him buoyed, keeps his level of stress from tipping over and making him particularly irritable or snappish.
(Not ... that it takes much to get him to that point even on a normal day, but.)
He follows along without hesitation, and before Charles can let go of his arm, he does the unthinkable and snatches at the other boy's fingers with his to keep their hands linked. It just so happens that he isn't quite ready to let go, and he doesn't care that he ought to give Charles his space given everything that had happened back home. These are different circumstances. Besides which, there's something Charles says that snags at him with a little bit of worry. ]
Is it not safe here?
[ No, for the purposes of this thread, he hasn't met anyone else yet and so hasn't gotten the full (or partial) story and extent of the horror that is the 'murder disease'. ]
[ edwin's hand in his isn't the norm, far from it — but it's something he is grateful for, regardless, the continued assurance that edwin is here and not about to disappear the next second charles so much as blinks. like this, it is easy to lead him through the streets, towards a park that he hopes is a quieter place, now, with most people busy browsing the stores and stalls.
and then, after some beats of silence, he says, ] Not really.
[ as soon as they're off the street, onto a gravel path winding between trees and bushes, he turns to edwin with a look that he usually only assumes when he's giving edwin a briefing on case investigations. ]
Right, so — this is... a lot, yeah? But there's all kinds of things going on, here. Had some people get infected with this... virus, sort of, that made them lose their minds and try and kill others. Then things've been glitching, the places or people, us. Might be you're suddenly in the middle of a hailstorm, or your place turns into the desert for a tick, people you see on the street seem like some from home, or you turn into a different version of yourself.
[ why does he sound like he's experienced all of these things? hmm, maybe because he has. anyway, moving on — ] If you die here, you'll just come back in some days' time. It's... Edwin, it's a bloody horror show.
[ yeah, he's using those particular words entirely on purpose. because, really, while this is hardly the same as hell, nothing like the actual, very real horror edwin experienced... well. he can't help but draw a few parallels, at least to the way who'd ever have the power to create something like this. ]
[ Edwin isn't much for physical contact, preferring to keep to himself. But he is trying to be better about it, and where Charles is concerned, especially now, it's hard not to want to be near him just for the reassurance in this odd new world.
Ghosts don't feel other objects or people the same way alive-people do, but amongst each other things feel far more real, almost solid. It's not just a memory of a feeling but a feeling itself, and that's what Edwin now clings to as Charles explains ... well, everything.
And the space inside his chest where a heart would be were he alive feels as though it's sinking all the way into his stomach, his mind whirring with images of viruses and these 'glitches' that Charles describes. ]
Charles. [ He stops them short, hands still linked, in the middle of this unknown street with its unfamiliar buildings. He isn't sure whether to be horrified or stressed out or both.
Probably both.
Definitely both.
His voice is almost too even when he manages to find the right words to speak. ] Do you mean to tell me that you've been living, for lack of a better word, through these nightmarish situations for the past two months? [ On your own? he doesn't add. Without me to protect you? he doesn't allow himself to think. ] We need to leave, immediately.
[ well, yes, that's exactly what he means, actually — and yet he can't help but hasten to add, very sincerely, ] Hey, it's all right. It's not... all bad. You saw the festival, sometimes it's good, here. 'Sides, the infection didn't even hit me, yeah?
[ what he is leaving unsaid is the fact he felt far worse, having to bear witness to it happening to someone he cares for, feeling nothing but right useless the entire time; what he's leaving unsaid is that he'd died, anyway, with an iron sword right through him, wielded by someone he quite genuinely likes. the reassuring smile he aims at edwin hints at exactly none of this.
we need to leave, edwin says, and charles almost, almost starts to laugh. ]
Edwin, [ he says instead, steady and careful, ] You really think I'd have stayed here instead of going right back to where you were, if I could have left? [ no, of course not. that's unthinkable. ] There's people here who've been here for over a year. If there's a way to leave, well, they haven't found one yet.
[ he just hopes finding one won't take, you know, seventy years. ]
That does not alleviate any of my concerns, Charles.
[ The facade of a peaceful festival and celebrations does not erase the very real horrors that Charles is describing to him at this moment, and his comment about the infection not hitting him is not as comforting as he might intend. Just because it hadn't hit him this time doesn't mean something worse isn't coming.
Edwin knows better than most to always expect the worst, and when the worst doesn't arrive, anticipate absolute horrifying hell.
He huffs a breath, letting go of Charles' hand to straighten the lapels of his jacket. ]
Well, I hadn't shown up yet, had I? I will find us a way out of this horrorscape. We'll treat this like we'd do with any other case.
No, [ comes his answer, soft as ever, ] You hadn't.
[ and that's the thing — if it was anyone else, he wouldn't even entertain it. but it's edwin, and when faced with his unflappable confidence, charles quite simply does what he always does: trusts him. if edwin says he'll find a way out, there's no question about it, he will. it's just a matter of time.
there's a sparkle in his eyes as he aims a bright smile at his best friend. ]
You're right. Course you are. Just another case, yeah?
[ it is funny how with just a few well-placed words, a few of his signature mannerisms, edwin's able to make charles feels more settled than he has in his entire two months here. ]
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expiationmods) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
expiationlogs2024-08-12 10:10 am
gotta pencil those into the schedule
[ but. it's a strange one, the simulation theory, and as much as charles is inclined to believe in it — well. it's not an easy one to explain, not an easy one to hear, and not something he wants to get into, immediately, when he's finally got edwin here with him. ]
Look, Edwin, I promise we can go over all the possibilities, yeah? Just — I haven't seen you for two bloody months.
[ please, can they just postpone the case talk for a bit? and yeah — he knows, if it was anyone else, he'd do the answering, wouldn't really care about how he's feeling, any of it... but with edwin, he doesn't mind asking. doesn't mind being a bit selfish, just for a second. ]
puts a lil star next to them for priority
[ Under most circumstances, particularly those pertaining to a case, Edwin might stubbornly refuse to quit until they happened upon some answer, like finishing a chapter in full before closing a partially read book. He doesn't like to leave things in his work unfinished.
But Charles needs him right now, and he understands that, and he wants to be here for him when he apparently hadn't all this time. That particular realization doesn't sit well with him either. ]
Charles. [ He knows that this isn't technically something to fault him with; he knows that sometimes these situations are out of their hands. But how many times has he told Charles that they would never be parted? How many occasions had he given his explicit promise that no one or nothing at all would ever separate them?
And then it had happened — for two months apparently. ] If I knew, if I knew at all that you'd been brought here, I would have followed you much sooner.
[ He would remorselessly burn down an entire universe to find Charles Rowland. ]
no subject
[ of course he knows — how could he not, when if the situation was reversed, he'd be saying the same? he knows edwin would have stopped at nothing to find him, which is exactly why he'd been so relieved to know he wouldn't even know to miss him.
realising they're blocking the way to the booth, then, charles grabs edwin's arm and tugs him along so they can start to walk along the street, to — well, somewhere that's not here, in the middle of all the noise of the festival. ]
Told you already, yeah? Not your fault. And besides — least I knew you were back home, safe. Made it easier to be here.
[ it had been the only reason he hadn't tried to burn the whole place down, honestly, the only reason he'd accepted being here so easily; because at least edwin wasn't stuck here, at least edwin wasn't worrying about him, at least he hadn't left edwin alone. ]
no subject
(Not ... that it takes much to get him to that point even on a normal day, but.)
He follows along without hesitation, and before Charles can let go of his arm, he does the unthinkable and snatches at the other boy's fingers with his to keep their hands linked. It just so happens that he isn't quite ready to let go, and he doesn't care that he ought to give Charles his space given everything that had happened back home. These are different circumstances. Besides which, there's something Charles says that snags at him with a little bit of worry. ]
Is it not safe here?
[ No, for the purposes of this thread, he hasn't met anyone else yet and so hasn't gotten the full (or partial) story and extent of the horror that is the 'murder disease'. ]
no subject
and then, after some beats of silence, he says, ] Not really.
[ as soon as they're off the street, onto a gravel path winding between trees and bushes, he turns to edwin with a look that he usually only assumes when he's giving edwin a briefing on case investigations. ]
Right, so — this is... a lot, yeah? But there's all kinds of things going on, here. Had some people get infected with this... virus, sort of, that made them lose their minds and try and kill others. Then things've been glitching, the places or people, us. Might be you're suddenly in the middle of a hailstorm, or your place turns into the desert for a tick, people you see on the street seem like some from home, or you turn into a different version of yourself.
[ why does he sound like he's experienced all of these things? hmm, maybe because he has. anyway, moving on — ] If you die here, you'll just come back in some days' time. It's... Edwin, it's a bloody horror show.
[ yeah, he's using those particular words entirely on purpose. because, really, while this is hardly the same as hell, nothing like the actual, very real horror edwin experienced... well. he can't help but draw a few parallels, at least to the way who'd ever have the power to create something like this. ]
no subject
Ghosts don't feel other objects or people the same way alive-people do, but amongst each other things feel far more real, almost solid. It's not just a memory of a feeling but a feeling itself, and that's what Edwin now clings to as Charles explains ... well, everything.
And the space inside his chest where a heart would be were he alive feels as though it's sinking all the way into his stomach, his mind whirring with images of viruses and these 'glitches' that Charles describes. ]
Charles. [ He stops them short, hands still linked, in the middle of this unknown street with its unfamiliar buildings. He isn't sure whether to be horrified or stressed out or both.
Probably both.
Definitely both.
His voice is almost too even when he manages to find the right words to speak. ] Do you mean to tell me that you've been living, for lack of a better word, through these nightmarish situations for the past two months? [ On your own? he doesn't add. Without me to protect you? he doesn't allow himself to think. ] We need to leave, immediately.
no subject
[ well, yes, that's exactly what he means, actually — and yet he can't help but hasten to add, very sincerely, ] Hey, it's all right. It's not... all bad. You saw the festival, sometimes it's good, here. 'Sides, the infection didn't even hit me, yeah?
[ what he is leaving unsaid is the fact he felt far worse, having to bear witness to it happening to someone he cares for, feeling nothing but right useless the entire time; what he's leaving unsaid is that he'd died, anyway, with an iron sword right through him, wielded by someone he quite genuinely likes. the reassuring smile he aims at edwin hints at exactly none of this.
we need to leave, edwin says, and charles almost, almost starts to laugh. ]
Edwin, [ he says instead, steady and careful, ] You really think I'd have stayed here instead of going right back to where you were, if I could have left? [ no, of course not. that's unthinkable. ] There's people here who've been here for over a year. If there's a way to leave, well, they haven't found one yet.
[ he just hopes finding one won't take, you know, seventy years. ]
no subject
[ The facade of a peaceful festival and celebrations does not erase the very real horrors that Charles is describing to him at this moment, and his comment about the infection not hitting him is not as comforting as he might intend. Just because it hadn't hit him this time doesn't mean something worse isn't coming.
Edwin knows better than most to always expect the worst, and when the worst doesn't arrive, anticipate absolute horrifying hell.
He huffs a breath, letting go of Charles' hand to straighten the lapels of his jacket. ]
Well, I hadn't shown up yet, had I? I will find us a way out of this horrorscape. We'll treat this like we'd do with any other case.
no subject
[ and that's the thing — if it was anyone else, he wouldn't even entertain it. but it's edwin, and when faced with his unflappable confidence, charles quite simply does what he always does: trusts him. if edwin says he'll find a way out, there's no question about it, he will. it's just a matter of time.
there's a sparkle in his eyes as he aims a bright smile at his best friend. ]
You're right. Course you are. Just another case, yeah?
[ it is funny how with just a few well-placed words, a few of his signature mannerisms, edwin's able to make charles feels more settled than he has in his entire two months here. ]
... I'm so bloody glad to see you, mate.