expiationlogs | dead to the power of two

[ meanwhile charles, who actually ended up having quite a nice time during the dreams, has been going about his everyday life as normal; and when the text comes in, well, he's just delighted, honestly. the guy remembers what they talked about! and wants to actually come with him! ]

yeah!! course i do, i'm real glad you asked! when do you wanna go?

[ somehow, he manages to make even his text responses drip with enthusiasm... ]

[It's not as though Altius thought Charles wasn't being sincere when he offered, but the response certainly confirms it solidly.]

Is today doable?

[As soon as possible, preferably. He has to keep moving, or... something might catch up with him.]

[ well — either he's really eager to go, or there's something else. as a master of evasive words and actions, charles thinks maybe, maybe there's something to the way he's speaking so bluntly... but maybe it's just his style. that could easily be it, too. best not read too much into it. ]

sure. meet me at the entrance to pessiria forest in... uh, is half an hour too soon? an hour?

Why don't I try for 45?

[Just some lame joking ha ha :) He's fine. He's fine because there is no other option.

He is so fine, in fact, that he won't even arrive precisely on time; he approaches the forest a few minutes vaguely early, his distant gaze mostly on the foliage between moments of glancing about for Charles, hands in his pockets. Whether the detective knows what he looks like or not, he shouldn't be hard to guess as being the man in question; he's dressed in appropriately for a hike that he clearly doesn't want to be cold for, if the jacket and earmuffs are any indication, carrying only a small shoulder bag unsuited to carry much but a drink and few snacks. Admittedly, he should have broken the new boots in...]

45 is aces, mate.

[ charles, after making sure to leave a message about where he's off to (and also make sure there's dinner in the fridge in case he's late, because otherwise his boyfriend will just eat a sandwich and call it a day and that's not dinner, but he digresses), makes it to the rendezvous point in exactly forty-two minutes, seeing how there's no conveniently placed mirrors nearby to cut his travel time short.

he's dressed, well, not at all differently from his usual: black trousers more suited for walking around town than hiking, a red polo shirt, a bomber jacket and a black overcoat thrown on top. all in all, he doesn't look at all like someone who's prepared to hike through potentially dangerous woods and fields, except maybe for the backpack slung over his shoulder. ]

Cheers, [ he calls out brightly as he sees zekarion, waving for good measure as he bounces closer. ] Good to see you in person. So, ready to brave the wildlife?

[Altius has done enough looking around on the network to recognize Charles on sight; though for a brief moment he wonders if he's really about to go hiking in that, he thinks—ah, yes, ghosts probably don't have to worry about sweating and chafing and that sort of thing, do they.]

Likewise, [Altius answers, managing a smile and a smooth, friendly tone like he does for nearly everyone he meets. As far as being ready, the answer is yes, but he instead says,] I'm ready to find out, in any case.

[It's a sincere question when he continues, gesturing halfway with one hand such that it won't be awkward whether the answer is yes or no:]

Should I offer to shake your hand?

[ yes, indeed — the one upside of being a ghost is that he never has to dress for sports, instead being able to go around just in his usual outfit without any issues. does it make up for the whole being dead thing? no, of course not, but you get the wins where you can.

the question makes charles laugh, a good-natured and bright sound — and then he simply reaches out and takes altius' hand, shaking it like he asked. ]

Sure, [ he says and grins, ] I'm not incorporeal unless I want to be. Most people seem to think that's the case, though.

[Despite his stated uncertainty, his grip in the handshake is the same as he always offers it, confident and steady without being harsh.]

Everyone has a different idea of these things, I suppose, [he replies,] and if I didn't know better I'd think my experience with Mr. Howe would apply to you. But my time here so far has taught me to make fewer assumptions.

[He'd much rather ask the question than be wrong, generally speaking.]

Oh! [ charles' grip back is steady, too, almost tight in the way a professional sportsman might do it, like he grips a hand the same way he grips his cricket bat; but altius' words, if possible, make his expression light up even more. ]

You know Octavian! He's right brills, isn't he? [ please cherish his adopted ghost uncle — ]

But you're right, he's totally different. I think I'm more like the usual ghosts, you know? Like, Death collects souls and sends them onwards to the Afterlife unless you avoid her and stick around on Earth, that kind of thing.

[ he has no qualms about speaking of all of this, alas... ]

[Well, it is his existence, as much as Zekarion might detest the idea; of course he'd talk about it openly. He's clearly not in constant misery just by virtue of being a ghost.

Altius uses a hint of humor to shove down anything resembling discomfort.]

I'd hesitate to refer to anything or anyone as "the usual," but I admit I haven't run a survey on the topic. I haven't met any before the two of you, so I could only talk about myths.

[He's got better things to do anyway—like getting more personal deets! He tries not to think about how his dream self tried to obliterate Octavian. Sorry, guy, he didn't mean it.]

But I'll agree that Mr. Howe is certainly knowledgeable. You know him well?

Edited (pronouns. :T) 2025-02-09 21:07 (UTC)

Well, I guess what I meant was, I'm more of the... ghost lore type?

[ with being invisible to people back home, able to walk through things, that kind of thing — the things people usually assume about ghosts tend to apply to him, for the most part. not so for octavian, though!

charles, happily unaware of altius's feelings towards ghosts or what happened in that particular dream, just beams. ]

You could say that. He's one of the people I care about the most, here. [ but right, they're here for a reason — he turns, waving altius to follow him. ] Come on, there's a cool path through the woods, we'll start by following that. We can chat on the way, yeah?

[Thankfully, Charles' demeanor only makes it easier for Altius to pretend everything is Fine. How terribly polite of him.

In agreement, and with some relief:]

Please. Sometimes I don't realize how stifling roads and buildings are until I've escaped them.

[He'll gladly follow along without further prompting. How long has it been since he let himself have a little wander? Ferran wasn't the camping or hiking type, only ever interested in visits to the park in terms of nature, so they'd hardly ever left the city...

Stop thinking about him. Right—ghost things. He's only paused momentarily with that thought process, but in that moment before he turns his attention back to Charles, his gaze is distant.]

How did the two of you meet? [and given how volatile this world is,] I hope it was relatively uneventful.

Right? I mean, I'm from a big city, but... there's something about being out in nature.

[ he grins easily at the older man, a bounce in his step as he walks along, the path starting to twist and turn between the trees, a slight breeze making the branches rustle.

and funnily enough, the question makes charles start to laugh. ]

Over the tablets, if you can believe. I thought he was a weird guy when I first talked to him... but he grows on you. I'd die a second time for him, now. [ said like this level of devotion to a friend is a normal thing to have, never mind that, ]

[It's cold, but despite his general dislike of lower temperatures he can't even complain about the breeze. The sound is soothing, and he lets out a slow breath as they wind their way down the path.]

Someone can be odd and wonderful at the same time.

[Not that he's, like, blaming Octavian for that, necessarily. He was probably a regular reclusive nerd in life, but years and years of being unable to emote because you have to will your spirit to stay together probably messes with you.

He raises his eyebrows at that last thing, though.]

But hopefully that's not necessary.

[said with some? concern? partly disguised as exasperated humor. Speaking of things ghosts generally can't do—]

Ah, that reminds me. Did you happen to get your long-awaited nap with the rest of us?

[... He brought it up without thinking. It's what the facade would do, a natural link in the conversation, bringing up the topic of their chat from before. The automatic thought process that goes along with it didn't stop to consider the fact that that way lies Problems.

Hm. Well, too late now.]

Yeah, I know.

[ said easily — he does indeed know, because for some reason, most of the people he loves the most are both odd and wonderful, for various reasons.

a shrug, and then, with extremely heartfelt sincerity, ] Well, you never know here, do you? And it's not like I'm looking to die again, I've done it here three times now. But for what it's worth, if it comes down to it... of course I'd die instead of making him go through it again.

[ especially after experiencing it, if from the other end — seeing octavian sit there on that chair, feeling the weight of the vase in his hand, only saved from dreaming through the act of killing him by octavian himself, skipping over that part.

and so, it is particularly apt, that altius brings up the dreaming, now. ]

Yeah, [ he says, and his jovial tone does not falter one bit. ] Seems like the nap didn't discriminate. I'm guessing you did, too? [ he pauses, tilts his head, some concern seeping into his eyes. ] Was it... alright?

[Whatever brightness was in his eyes dims at the conversation, and though he's determined not to frown or let a furrow come to his brow and mar the pleasant outing, there's nevertheless a distinct look of something somber. The topic of death isn't something he can skirt by so easily.

Despite all those he's caused, he takes it very seriously.

As his gaze moves to the path ahead, he lets a heavy breath out through his nose: understanding, but disagreeing without voicing it. Charles has a right to his choices, of course, and they're relative strangers. He doesn't have much room to argue about it, he thinks.

In response to that concern, Altius returns a smile to his face, though it's faint and a little wry, and lets out a little chuckle: hm, hm.]

It could have been worse.

[That much is true, somehow. Turning his eyes back to Charles:]

Was it restful for you?

[ and charles, ever attentive to the moods of others (because he had to be so, growing up, every second of every day, until it was too ingrained in him to ever stop even in death) notices the silence, the somber look to him, and grimaces. ]

Sorry, [ he says, running a hand through his curls, ] Not very cheerful conversation, is it?

[ and due to the topic of the dreams, it continues as such; because he is not only attentive to others, but also a detective with three decades of experience being one under his belt, and so he raises one brow at that answer. ]

So it was bloody awful, in other words, got it.

[ there's a quiet sympathy in his eyes as he looks at the other, something that seems almost at odds with his youthful appearance. ] You know, you can talk to me. I know we're not close or anything, but... you're here, yeah? And so am I. And it's not good to bottle stuff up. All that's gonna do is explode spectacularly later.

[ and then, with a soft, earnest smile, ] But it's up to you. We can just talk about nothing, too, right now. The offer won't expire.

[His eyes follow Charles; they're both the observant type, though for vastly different reasons. He takes in everything the younger-older man has to say, his apologies, his sympathy, the way he doesn't answer Altius's question, the sense to him that shows the true depth of his experience. Despite all that, Charles continues to offer more. It feels... familiar.

The first thing Altius decides to tackle is,]

You don't have to apologize for anything. [There's gratitude in his tone and the slight tilt of his head, in fact.] You're a generous person, aren't you?

[Charles is right, of course. Keeping everything to oneself is a recipe for disaster, if it lasts long enough. With a more audible sigh, he at least offers an answer that's partly in that vein.]

They weren't all horrible. I was able to go places I never would have, otherwise. See thoughtful sides of people I couldn't have seen.

[Perhaps that's what bothers him most, the sympathy for his worst moments.]

Nah, [ he shrugs his shoulders as if shrugging off the compliment all at once, too, ] Just doing what I can.

[ nevermind that what he can is going to incredible lengths for people, showing compassion and care, all of it genuine, because he's never once learned how not to care about others with his whole heart, even when it's to his detriment.

still, an answer is better than no answer, even if it's still circling around the topic somewhat. ]

Yeah, I get that. It was the same for me. I got to see a lot of interesting things... people's homes, all that.

[ a pause; he keeps walking, glancing around them as he asks, ] Does it bother you, if there's people who saw yours? [ guesswork, but based on all the places he saw, and one of them being the agency back home... he guesses that had been the case for altius, too. ]

[He takes in a deep breath, giving himself the space to think over his response, filling his nose with crisp scents and his lungs with fresh air. It's refreshing, if he doesn't think too hard about it being simulated.]

My home, I don't mind them seeing.

[The answer is calm, his hands in his coat pockets.]

The situations were what was awful. I'd rather no one else have gone through them.

[It's uncommon for him to say things about his feelings that are true down to his core, but this is one of them. He can see no reason for anyone else to suffer through the panic of the permanent disappearance of a little girl, a massacre of unarmed innocents, or the horrible space of that Spirit's power.]

That I have to experience all that again, I'd accept, if it meant no one else had to. So—I suppose I understand what you were saying a moment ago.

[ charles hums in response, directing a sympathetic look at altius — perhaps it's all too obvious that he can relate, almost painfully so. ]

... Yeah, [ he says finally, eyes soft and his brows furrowed just slightly, ] Yeah, I know what you mean. I didn't go through any of that, for my own part, but if I had —

[ he knows he would feel the exact same way. so he reaches out, then, places his hand on altius's shoulder, giving it a gentle pat. ]

Wasn't your fault, though. Remember that, yeah? You didn't make those dreams show up, and you didn't pull anyone into them. It's just one more thing this place does.

[It's unusual for him to get any physical reassurance, and a bit of surprise colors his expression when Charles's hand reaches his shoulder—but then, he barely talks of anything resembling weakness to begin with. It fades quickly enough as he considers the young man's words, however.

He thinks of his failures, of his full responsibility over them all, and smiles just slightly.]

You're right. [He can at least agree that this world's machinations were partly at fault, so he channels that agreement into the response, even as he admits that his feelings aren't so easily changed:] Perhaps that will get through to me at some point.

[It won't. Regardless, the world moves on, and so do they.]

Thank you, Charles. [Hey look! It's time for some joking about, as he shakes his head with some apparent exasperation.] If you keep up with this sort of thing I'm not going to be able to repay you properly, so I'd appreciate if you slowed down a bit.

[ it is a second too late that he remembers not everyone is as used to touch or so free in giving it as he is — crystal's called him touchy-feely on several occasions, accompanied by a fond eyeroll, and he can't really counter the charge. but it seems that the pat is received... if not well, at least alright.

and he knows a little something about something not getting through to you — and so he says, with his whole heart, ] Maybe you just need people around you who'll remind you about it when you forget.

[ or who will keep insisting, until it starts sounding at least a little more like a truth.

but the joke lands, and charles ducks his head with a laugh. ] Not about repaying me though, is it? That's not why I'm here. [ with a grin, he takes a few steps forward and spins on his heels, walking backwards along the road. ]

Right, we can talk about something else. Something a bit nicer, yeah?

[Oh, don't worry, Charles, you'll find out soon enough how much Altius likes getting into people's personal bubbles with his own touchy-feeliness. Perhaps not in this meeting, depending on the conversation, but soon enough.

For now, though, he continues to agree.]

Maybe so.

[People always need external validation in some form or another, no matter how self-confident they may be. (Will he seek people like this out? Of course not.)

He smiles along, watching as Charles turns with his brows raised in a way he means to be more open, maybe friendly. He's grateful for the offered change in topic, so he takes it.]

Who else do you know well here, other than Mr. Howe?

[Tell him all about your friends, he's giving you the opportunity to gush. He's gotten the impression Charles is the type.]

[ well — since he's the one who suggested the idea of someone like that around, it clearly means he's also volunteered himself... so that's that, then! he's going to make sure to be there to remind him, if no one else does.

the way his expression brightens instantly confirms his expectation; he is, indeed, the type to gush, and affection just about drips from his voice as he starts the list: ] Oh, loads of people! But Scott and Root are my closest friends, have you met them? And then there's Richard, and Jinx. [ his expression does something complicated to mention the two in such quick succession...

but. ultimately, it lands into something softer than the friendly affection he has when speaking of the others; his eyes are warm and his smile quiet and sweet as he says, ] And then there's Junpei. Maybe I should have started with him, actually. This whole place could go up in flames and as long as he would be fine... well. No one else matters like he does.

[ he could have just said "and then there's junpei, my boyfriend," and yet here they are — ]

dead to the power of two | OPEN

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