[Despite being the one to start off the conversation by being rude, her expression frosts over at him snapping back. She scoffs, turns in her seat sideways with one leg crossed over the other, and decides to ignore him until the question is asked.]
The mind.
[She says, without missing a beat. What was a body? A tool to be used and manipulated, copied over and over again. A thing to be stolen from you. An object to be corrupted and destroyed. But she still had her memories. 2B's as well. That had to mean something.] A body's a tool. [...] It doesn't mean anything.
[With her physical damage so on display, she seems to live this statement, at great detriment to herself.
She picks up her own list. As she skims a second time, her eyes dim. She seems to lose whatever ire had possessed her a moment before.]
"Why do you think we're here?"
[It's a pointed question. She meets his eyes when she says it.
[ He's not one for discussing pseudo-psychological mumbo jumbo like this, but still finds himself giving a small nod in response to her answer ─ at least the first part of it. That should be a no-brainer, no? The mind ─ or the "soul" as it were ─ means more than the body, even if the latter isn't insignificant either. What she says in relation to the latter is... alarming. Ragna can't help but glance over the parts of her that appear to have been damaged, his eyebrows drawn into a scowl.
But before he gets to give it more thought, he's presented with a question for him to answer, and this one does nothing to dispel his unease. ]
... Being used as guinea pigs in some crazy experiment.
[ Ragna answers, probably the first time he's actually voiced the thought that's accompanied him for a while now. And while he's visibly frustrated, it's not with A2 herself. No, it's becoming increasingly obvious these questions are meant to make them feel anxious and paranoid, which only serves to prove his earlier point. The man hesitates for a brief moment, wondering if they should even continue with this charade... but ultimately, it might give them some clues about their situation. He exhales slowly, then looks back to his sheet. ]
"Do you have a right to be happy or should you earn it?"
[His answer makes A2 bristle like she's touched a live wire. She tenses up along her spine and shoulders, leans forward for a moment as if bracing to stand.] You really think that? [Her voice is a low, paranoid hiss. It seemed the questions were hitting their mark.] Then why are you-
[Why did he care about the machine? Why did he think she — it — meant them no harm? How could everyone be so calm?
She calms too, with effort. All of her goes as still as the surface of an undisturbed lake. The light in her eyes dulls once more; a weary sigh follows.]
... Happiness isn't a right. And there's some things that you can't earn back.
[These questions are miserable. She's feeding these parts of herself to this machine, just as she had destroyed and broken herself into pieces while fighting other machines. But here she was again. Same shit, different place.]
"How do you know we're doing the right thing?" [Were they doing the right thing?]
[ Ragna's eyebrows rise slightly at that unasked question, though he can't quite tell what it was that she wanted to ask or why it seemed to make her so frustrated. But in the end, she didn't voice the thought, so he decides not to get too hung up on that. It's entirely possible it's just the whole thing that's pissing her off, which is something he definitely understands.
Her response gives him a pause, however; technically he doesn't disagree with that, but something about the way she responds doesn't sit right with him. Which is why he comments on it, unnecessary though it may be. ]
Not by itself, but anyone's free to pursue happiness. Kinda the whole point of being alive, or so they say.
[ His voice is ever so slightly softer when he says that, and almost wistful in a way. People should be able to at least try and find happiness, whatever that means to them... though truth to be told, he would not extend that courtesy to himself, but that's neither here nor there. ]
I know I'm doing what I consider to be the right thing. I don't give a shit what others think.
[ There is no hesitation in his response, just steely determination. Who the fuck gets to decide what is "right"? Who has that power and privilege? Some kind of omnipotent force, or the world itself? Either way, Ragna's answer wouldn't change; it's fine if everyone, including the world itself, think he's in the wrong, it won't stop him regardless. ]
"What is your most secret wish─" [ As soon as the words leave his mouth and the gravity of the sentence finally register, Ragna shakes his head. ] Forget it, you don't have to answer this one.
[ All of these questions are way too intrusive, but this one in particular feels like a step too far. He'd rather give her an easy way out than make her more uncomfortable by expecting her to answer. ]
late ass tagback because i lost this notif... i'm gomen
[A dismissive scoff at his answer. A2 turns her head again, arms crossed, glaring at nothing in particular.
... Though eventually, she seems to lose whatever ire was possessing her, and only looks resigned.] Maybe some people are free to.
[Everyone was so idealistic here, so sure of their inherent right to do this or that. To be happy, to enjoy things, to live in a way they wanted to. But she is convinced that these privileges are outside of her reach. She was an android, designed for a meaningless purpose. Whatever this place was... it was only a brief reprieve, wasn't it? Even though she had destroyed the Tower, even though...
She can't think about the rest. Instead:]
... I don't have any wishes. [It's stated quietly and without much emotion.] There's not any point in it.
[ He drums his fingers on the table absent-mindedly, idly wondering which one of them hates being forced into this thing more, and right now, all signs are pointing to A2. Which is a bit of a surprise, given he's far from being an optimistic or outgoing person, but her replies are almost... depressing. Not that it's all that shocking if that profile of hers had any truth to it. ]
They all should be. [ He shrugs; he's not naive enough to believe that to be possible, but there is some silly, idealistic part of him that is prepared to fight for that to become reality, sappy as the thought is. But he also recognizes it's not simple as that, so he adds: ] Too bad things are never that nice.
[ Ragna's scowl deepens at her reply, not believing it for a second. In his experience, there's no such thing as a person who doesn't wish for anything at all ─ no matter how good or altruistic they are, there's always something they desire. His annoyance comes more from her wording than anything, however ─ he did already give her an out if she didn't want to reveal it, so he thinks it's pointless to try and hide it. ]
Don't give me that shit. Everyone's got something they wish for. [ Now it's his turn to scoff. ] Like I said, you don't have to answer if you don't wanna.
Too bad. [She echoes bitterly. She turns sideways in her chair again, one leg crossed over the other. The accusation, as well meaning as it is, makes her frown.] If I have a wish, then it's nothing. Non-existence.
[It's said coldly, and without any guilt or stumbling. Her true wish was to see her friends again, if not in this world, than another. But how would she ever manage that? They were gone — there was nothing for her left. All that remained was her own ending, and even that had been stolen from her once she'd arrived here.
The part of her that is kind wants to reach out and be understood. But the greater part of her, that was tired of all of her attempts at connection being destroyed and the world and its endless capacity for mindless cruelty. This was the only thing she knew to be an absolute truth: that if she was allowed happiness, someone or something would show up to fuck it over.]
[ Ragna remains silent as she finally elaborates; he almost wants to argue he didn't really ask for an answer, but its contents give him a pause. ]
... How the hell do you know that?
[ He asks slowly, clenching his hand into a fist on the table. The man can't help but think back to the information about her that he's first seen on the stupid app ─ yes, that thing is usually ridiculous, but the mention of an android made for combat and nothing else does slot in nicely into what he's seen of her in person. She's a tough, no-nonsense lady... who seems to know nothing about life outside of fighting to the point she tries to befriend the wildlife with shitty cheese. And how is that really different from Nu? That girl wanted to destroy everything, only because she's known nothing but pain. Can a person even make decisions like that with this sort of baggage...? ]
Look, I don't know you, so maybe I'm completely off the mark here... but you don't strike me as someone who's had much of a life before. How can you decide you don't want to exist anymore when you've never truly lived in the first place?!
[ Maybe he's taking this a tad bit personally, but frankly, he doesn't care. It's not like he doesn't understand where she might be coming from ─ after all, that's the fate Ragna chose for himself, too: to have never existed in the first place, erasing himself from the past, the present and the future of his world. But when he made that decision, he knew full well what he was giving up. The life he had always wanted, with his siblings at his side, watching them grow and prosper... still, it was worth it if it meant they could be happy. So he doesn't regret it in the slightest. But for someone to give it all up before they even had a chance to experience it... that doesn't sit right with him. ]
[How passionately he speaks of this seems to throw her. Her brow creases — she can't remember the last time someone had spoken to her in this way. Number 16, maybe, who had always yelled at her when she was being too timid. But Number 16 was dead. She'd been dead for years. It was important to remember that — to always remember it.
It didn't matter how much he sounded like her. It wasn't the same.
... Gradually, she goes still as she listens. By the time he has finished she looks somber and melancholy, dimly ashamed. She studies her hands, which only serves to remind her of the damage she'd incurred in all of her time fighting alone. Seeking an end that might be worthy of the sacrifice her friends had made for her.
Her gaze flickers off to the side.] You're right. You don't know me.
[... She sighs.] ... Because I shouldn't have even lived this long. I died before I arrived here. And now I'm here, in a machine run simulation.
[Her eyes flick over to him, and her stare wide-eyed. Haunted.] I can't even be sure any of you are real anyway. And I know... whenever anything seems like it might get better, it goes to shit again. It'll happen here, too. Sooner or later.
[ Aw crap. He might have come on a bit too strong there, if her body language is anything to go by... Ragna mentally berates himself for snapping at her like that. His gaze follows hers to her hands, briefly wondering what history has led to her looking the way she does today. When she speaks up, his expression softens, if only slightly ─ in a way, he understands what it feels like when he should've been not just dead, but his existence should've been completely erased, only for him to end up here. ]
... So what? [ He asks, the annoyance still clear in his voice, though it's toned down considerably from his previous outburst. ] Real or fake, people care too much about meaningless shit like that. What you feel is real, and that's what really matters.
[ He doesn't really get the way some people reacted to the discovery this world had been created by an AI, perhaps because he's in a unique position of having lived his whole life in a similar one. Why would that matter? The people are real, their experiences are real; how it all came to be is secondary at best. Hell, people are more than willing to accept the idea gods have created their world; how's that any different? ]
Yeah. It'll go to shit for sure. [ The man glances down at the spot where his right arm should be. He knows better than anyone how easy it is for one's life to be completely destroyed within seconds, and as the result, he's hardly what you could call an optimist, so he does agree with that sentiment... to an extent. Because one thing he absolutely cannot stand is the idea of giving up. ] And then you get back up and keep walking. As long as you've got people you wanna protect or things you wanna achieve... you can always get back up, no matter how many times it takes.
[It's a lecture again, about not giving up, about continuing to get up even after being knocked down, again and again. More idealism. Even Pod had begun to scold her about her refusal to move forward, pushing her into interacting with the other people here, nagging her until she stepped outside of the forest and ventured into town. Making her eat things like "breakfast," even though she didn't require it to live.
It's annoying. (It's troubling.) She doesn't know why others continue to make the mistake of wasting their time on her. Her comrades had done it and suffered for it, died for it. She thinks of them all the time now, about how ashamed they'd be if they saw what had become of her. Even still, she longs to see them — some part of her always has one foot stuck in the past. In a place that no longer existed. And to have this new world around her being the result of some machine's dream or design only magnifies her paranoia. Her entire life had been controlled by such a system: she'd been a puppet navigated throughout it. A doll in a play that never ended. She doesn't like the uncertainty of things here, but to return to that endless and pointless hell would be unimaginable. She thinks if the people here knew that such a fate awaited them, they wouldn't adapt so easily to being stuck in this artificial intelligence's machinations.
At the very least, Ragna's admitting that the uneasy peace here won't last. It never did in A2's limited experience. What else he says is harder to swallow.
She was exhausted by all of it. Exhausted from, losing things, people, pieces of herself. Of getting back up and walking again. For what? To what end? What good could she do? She'd never managed to do anything worthwhile before.]
... Real or not, it doesn't change my wish. [Her expression is distantly sad at this, her voice almost too soft to be heard.] I'm... tired.
[A quiet admission. But it was the truth.] It's not anything you should concern yourself about. [...] We barely know each other, anyway. Why do you care?
[ Hearing her admission, the man straightens his posture, his expression turns slightly wistful. He doesn't like to admit it even to himself, but there were times when he felt tired, too. Like when he found out he had been replaying the same scenario over and over again thousands of times, never achieving anything beyond what had been predetermined to happen; or when he realized his entire life, no, the whole world would simply get erased and reset because the girl in charge of it didn't like the outcome. What would Rachel call it again? "Dolls on a stage, enacting an endless play forever"... Who wouldn't get exhausted by that?
But after the initial shock has worn off, and he's had a moment to collect himself, Ragna would do the same thing he always did ─ get back up, continue walking, and keep fighting. And eventually, he was able to cut the string that had bound him and the entire world ─ so why shouldn't he believe the same is possible for A2 as well? ]
Do I need a reason? [ He answers with a question of his own, though he's fully aware it's not the entire truth. Hell, he'd like to claim he doesn't care at all, but after that passionate lecture he gave it's probably a little too late for that. ] Like I said, seeing someone give up doesn't sit well with me.
[ That's not all there is to it, but if nothing else, the explanation he offers is a part of it. For all his tough guy act, he's never quite been able to rid himself of that (admittedly foolish) empathetic side of him. So how could she expect him to see a person who's clearly suffering and look away? It would probably make his life easier, but he'd have a hard time sleeping at night if he did that. ]
Very well. In that case, I'll keep on fighting in your stead. [ Ragna, that's not how this works─ ] In the meantime, you can rest and live your life for a change. Eat some good food. Find a hobby. Maybe even do this friendship shit people keep yapping about.
[ His words may sound flippant, but is tone is firm, showing that the conviction behind them is nothing to be trifled with. Maybe it's a silly, idealistic dream; maybe there's nothing at the end of this road, and all he'll end up doing is bringing the poor woman even more pain. Still... he wants to try. She might have given up on life, but he refuses to give up on her. ]
And if after all that, you still decide you've had enough... then I'll kill you myself.
[At first, A2’s gaze had been stubbornly locked on the table, but as Ragna gives his speech, she looks up at him, startled out of her own miserable thoughts. How strange, to be told this with such conviction. Another person here was trying to reach her. To tell him that there’s no point seems cruel. She had tried for a long time to harden her heart, to grow numb and feel nothing. But being here… the numbness is beginning to abate, not into anger or purpose but something that made her feel afraid. Because to feel anything beyond the rage that had carried her for so long was a terrifying possibility — that there was something that could be taken away from her again. Friendship. Experiences. Joy.
She recognizes what she’s being asked to do, but… it’s difficult.
Ugh.
Gradually, her surprised expression fades into something thoughtful. Hard to read. Her brow furrows.]
… If you’re threatening to kill me, just know that I won’t make it easy. [She was a coward, in her opinion. But she would not die without honorable struggle. It was antithetical to what an android was.
Odd.
She had never considered that before.] Fine. Whatever. I’ll do it! But stop with your… [an irritated wave of her hand before she glances away with a scoff. Despite her annoyance, she seems a bit flustered.] hero speeches.
[After that, she adds, glancing at him sideways:] You don’t do any of that, do you? Friendship and shit. Don’t be a hypocrite.
[ His lips curl up in a small smirk at her response; not just because it feels like a small victory (though that's a part of it too), but mostly because he likes this new look in her eyes better. It seems that there's still a spark in her, something that keeps pushing her forward. Even if they don't see eye to eye, he can respect that. ]
Wouldn't have it any other way.
[ Though if her attitude is any indication, maybe he won't have to. Regardless, his expression sours a moment later when she calls him out; he doesn't like confronting the fact he's awful at practicing what he preaches, since it's easier to just ignore his own good advice and pretend it applies to everyone in the world but himself. ]
Call me a "hero" again and I might not wait with the ass-kicking. [ The man scoffs, propping his chin on his hand as he looks away from her to the side. ] And I do have a hobby.
[ So it's not like he doesn't do any of it! Yes, it's semantics, but he just doesn't want to admit she's right by calling him a hypocrite. ]
... I may be an asshole, but even I'm not cynical enough to claim it doesn't work for some people.
[ Not him, of course. Nope. Not in the slightest. He'll just... try not to think about the people here he's genuinely grown to care for. That's... different, somehow. ]
[An eyeroll at his boast. A2 doesn't smile, but there's a challenge in her eyes.] Why don't you save the crowing for when you've got all your limbs back? I wouldn't be so full of it if I were you.
[Her usual attitude seems to have reasserted itself again. At least she isn't thinking about dying at the moment though. Instead she quietly listens to his careful omission: some people. So not him, then.
Something to think about at another time, she supposes. It wasn't really her business, but... he'd sat here trying to help her, albeit in an annoying and pushy way (in her opinion). It didn't sit well with her not to return a favor in some way. For now she steps away from the precipice again.]
No need to worry your pretty little head about that.
[ His confidence, while borderline careless, is not entirely unfounded, so he's not even remotely discouraged by her comment. Her question that follows, on the other hand, seems to throw him off, all his bravado disappearing in a blink of an eye, replaced by uncharacteristic hesitance. ]
I...
[ The man trails off, his expression turning somewhat wistful with his gaze fixed on the horizon, though he can't really see it; no, instead a different scene plays out in his mind, one that he's seen hundreds of times before: two little kids, a boy and a girl, both with golden hair and green eyes, playing in a field of flowers. An old nun approaching them, carrying a basket full of fresh produce. The idyllic scenery doesn't last, however, as a sneer breaks through it at the back of his head:
" What do you wish for from this worthless world?! "
Ragna grits his teeth in frustration, any traces of his previous, playful attitude gone together with that silly, naive daydream. How stupid of him to even give it any time of the day; it's not like it could ever come true. No, it must never come true... for the sake of everyone involved. So when he finally continues his thought, he does so in a dismissive, angry tone. ]
[For a time, she looks thrown by his response, eyes wide and surprised. The offense raises in a slow, intense simmer, and at the peak of it she snatches up the survey, balls it up, and tosses it out him in a fit of pique.] I tell you all that shit and you can't even answer me? You know what? Fine! I don't even care. This whole thing is so stupid-
[It seems that regardless of their fifteen minutes being up or not, she's had enough. Her chair screeches across the floor as she pushes herself away from the table.]
Asshole... [She grumbles before turning to leave, still fuming as she does. What a hypocrite!]
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expiationlogs2025-02-10 12:12 pm
no subject
The mind.
[She says, without missing a beat. What was a body? A tool to be used and manipulated, copied over and over again. A thing to be stolen from you. An object to be corrupted and destroyed. But she still had her memories. 2B's as well. That had to mean something.] A body's a tool. [...] It doesn't mean anything.
[With her physical damage so on display, she seems to live this statement, at great detriment to herself.
She picks up her own list. As she skims a second time, her eyes dim. She seems to lose whatever ire had possessed her a moment before.]
"Why do you think we're here?"
[It's a pointed question. She meets his eyes when she says it.
Troubling. The questions were troubling.]
no subject
But before he gets to give it more thought, he's presented with a question for him to answer, and this one does nothing to dispel his unease. ]
... Being used as guinea pigs in some crazy experiment.
[ Ragna answers, probably the first time he's actually voiced the thought that's accompanied him for a while now. And while he's visibly frustrated, it's not with A2 herself. No, it's becoming increasingly obvious these questions are meant to make them feel anxious and paranoid, which only serves to prove his earlier point. The man hesitates for a brief moment, wondering if they should even continue with this charade... but ultimately, it might give them some clues about their situation. He exhales slowly, then looks back to his sheet. ]
"Do you have a right to be happy or should you earn it?"
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[Why did he care about the machine? Why did he think she — it — meant them no harm? How could everyone be so calm?
She calms too, with effort. All of her goes as still as the surface of an undisturbed lake. The light in her eyes dulls once more; a weary sigh follows.]
... Happiness isn't a right. And there's some things that you can't earn back.
[These questions are miserable. She's feeding these parts of herself to this machine, just as she had destroyed and broken herself into pieces while fighting other machines. But here she was again. Same shit, different place.]
"How do you know we're doing the right thing?" [Were they doing the right thing?]
no subject
Her response gives him a pause, however; technically he doesn't disagree with that, but something about the way she responds doesn't sit right with him. Which is why he comments on it, unnecessary though it may be. ]
Not by itself, but anyone's free to pursue happiness. Kinda the whole point of being alive, or so they say.
[ His voice is ever so slightly softer when he says that, and almost wistful in a way. People should be able to at least try and find happiness, whatever that means to them... though truth to be told, he would not extend that courtesy to himself, but that's neither here nor there. ]
I know I'm doing what I consider to be the right thing. I don't give a shit what others think.
[ There is no hesitation in his response, just steely determination. Who the fuck gets to decide what is "right"? Who has that power and privilege? Some kind of omnipotent force, or the world itself? Either way, Ragna's answer wouldn't change; it's fine if everyone, including the world itself, think he's in the wrong, it won't stop him regardless. ]
"What is your most secret wish─" [ As soon as the words leave his mouth and the gravity of the sentence finally register, Ragna shakes his head. ] Forget it, you don't have to answer this one.
[ All of these questions are way too intrusive, but this one in particular feels like a step too far. He'd rather give her an easy way out than make her more uncomfortable by expecting her to answer. ]
late ass tagback because i lost this notif... i'm gomen
... Though eventually, she seems to lose whatever ire was possessing her, and only looks resigned.] Maybe some people are free to.
[Everyone was so idealistic here, so sure of their inherent right to do this or that. To be happy, to enjoy things, to live in a way they wanted to. But she is convinced that these privileges are outside of her reach. She was an android, designed for a meaningless purpose. Whatever this place was... it was only a brief reprieve, wasn't it? Even though she had destroyed the Tower, even though...
She can't think about the rest. Instead:]
... I don't have any wishes. [It's stated quietly and without much emotion.] There's not any point in it.
Is that all of them?
np I'm a slowpoke anyway
They all should be. [ He shrugs; he's not naive enough to believe that to be possible, but there is some silly, idealistic part of him that is prepared to fight for that to become reality, sappy as the thought is. But he also recognizes it's not simple as that, so he adds: ] Too bad things are never that nice.
[ Ragna's scowl deepens at her reply, not believing it for a second. In his experience, there's no such thing as a person who doesn't wish for anything at all ─ no matter how good or altruistic they are, there's always something they desire. His annoyance comes more from her wording than anything, however ─ he did already give her an out if she didn't want to reveal it, so he thinks it's pointless to try and hide it. ]
Don't give me that shit. Everyone's got something they wish for. [ Now it's his turn to scoff. ] Like I said, you don't have to answer if you don't wanna.
no subject
[It's said coldly, and without any guilt or stumbling. Her true wish was to see her friends again, if not in this world, than another. But how would she ever manage that? They were gone — there was nothing for her left. All that remained was her own ending, and even that had been stolen from her once she'd arrived here.
The part of her that is kind wants to reach out and be understood. But the greater part of her, that was tired of all of her attempts at connection being destroyed and the world and its endless capacity for mindless cruelty. This was the only thing she knew to be an absolute truth: that if she was allowed happiness, someone or something would show up to fuck it over.]
Does that answer your question?
no subject
... How the hell do you know that?
[ He asks slowly, clenching his hand into a fist on the table. The man can't help but think back to the information about her that he's first seen on the stupid app ─ yes, that thing is usually ridiculous, but the mention of an android made for combat and nothing else does slot in nicely into what he's seen of her in person. She's a tough, no-nonsense lady... who seems to know nothing about life outside of fighting to the point she tries to befriend the wildlife with shitty cheese. And how is that really different from Nu? That girl wanted to destroy everything, only because she's known nothing but pain. Can a person even make decisions like that with this sort of baggage...? ]
Look, I don't know you, so maybe I'm completely off the mark here... but you don't strike me as someone who's had much of a life before. How can you decide you don't want to exist anymore when you've never truly lived in the first place?!
[ Maybe he's taking this a tad bit personally, but frankly, he doesn't care. It's not like he doesn't understand where she might be coming from ─ after all, that's the fate Ragna chose for himself, too: to have never existed in the first place, erasing himself from the past, the present and the future of his world. But when he made that decision, he knew full well what he was giving up. The life he had always wanted, with his siblings at his side, watching them grow and prosper... still, it was worth it if it meant they could be happy. So he doesn't regret it in the slightest. But for someone to give it all up before they even had a chance to experience it... that doesn't sit right with him. ]
no subject
It didn't matter how much he sounded like her. It wasn't the same.
... Gradually, she goes still as she listens. By the time he has finished she looks somber and melancholy, dimly ashamed. She studies her hands, which only serves to remind her of the damage she'd incurred in all of her time fighting alone. Seeking an end that might be worthy of the sacrifice her friends had made for her.
Her gaze flickers off to the side.] You're right. You don't know me.
[... She sighs.] ... Because I shouldn't have even lived this long. I died before I arrived here. And now I'm here, in a machine run simulation.
[Her eyes flick over to him, and her stare wide-eyed. Haunted.] I can't even be sure any of you are real anyway. And I know... whenever anything seems like it might get better, it goes to shit again. It'll happen here, too. Sooner or later.
[More softly, almost to herself:]
Sooner or later.
no subject
... So what? [ He asks, the annoyance still clear in his voice, though it's toned down considerably from his previous outburst. ] Real or fake, people care too much about meaningless shit like that. What you feel is real, and that's what really matters.
[ He doesn't really get the way some people reacted to the discovery this world had been created by an AI, perhaps because he's in a unique position of having lived his whole life in a similar one. Why would that matter? The people are real, their experiences are real; how it all came to be is secondary at best. Hell, people are more than willing to accept the idea gods have created their world; how's that any different? ]
Yeah. It'll go to shit for sure. [ The man glances down at the spot where his right arm should be. He knows better than anyone how easy it is for one's life to be completely destroyed within seconds, and as the result, he's hardly what you could call an optimist, so he does agree with that sentiment... to an extent. Because one thing he absolutely cannot stand is the idea of giving up. ] And then you get back up and keep walking. As long as you've got people you wanna protect or things you wanna achieve... you can always get back up, no matter how many times it takes.
no subject
It's annoying. (It's troubling.) She doesn't know why others continue to make the mistake of wasting their time on her. Her comrades had done it and suffered for it, died for it. She thinks of them all the time now, about how ashamed they'd be if they saw what had become of her. Even still, she longs to see them — some part of her always has one foot stuck in the past. In a place that no longer existed. And to have this new world around her being the result of some machine's dream or design only magnifies her paranoia. Her entire life had been controlled by such a system: she'd been a puppet navigated throughout it. A doll in a play that never ended. She doesn't like the uncertainty of things here, but to return to that endless and pointless hell would be unimaginable. She thinks if the people here knew that such a fate awaited them, they wouldn't adapt so easily to being stuck in this artificial intelligence's machinations.
At the very least, Ragna's admitting that the uneasy peace here won't last. It never did in A2's limited experience. What else he says is harder to swallow.
She was exhausted by all of it. Exhausted from, losing things, people, pieces of herself. Of getting back up and walking again. For what? To what end? What good could she do? She'd never managed to do anything worthwhile before.]
... Real or not, it doesn't change my wish. [Her expression is distantly sad at this, her voice almost too soft to be heard.] I'm... tired.
[A quiet admission. But it was the truth.] It's not anything you should concern yourself about. [...] We barely know each other, anyway. Why do you care?
cw: murder threat??
But after the initial shock has worn off, and he's had a moment to collect himself, Ragna would do the same thing he always did ─ get back up, continue walking, and keep fighting. And eventually, he was able to cut the string that had bound him and the entire world ─ so why shouldn't he believe the same is possible for A2 as well? ]
Do I need a reason? [ He answers with a question of his own, though he's fully aware it's not the entire truth. Hell, he'd like to claim he doesn't care at all, but after that passionate lecture he gave it's probably a little too late for that. ] Like I said, seeing someone give up doesn't sit well with me.
[ That's not all there is to it, but if nothing else, the explanation he offers is a part of it. For all his tough guy act, he's never quite been able to rid himself of that (admittedly foolish) empathetic side of him. So how could she expect him to see a person who's clearly suffering and look away? It would probably make his life easier, but he'd have a hard time sleeping at night if he did that. ]
Very well. In that case, I'll keep on fighting in your stead. [ Ragna, that's not how this works─ ] In the meantime, you can rest and live your life for a change. Eat some good food. Find a hobby. Maybe even do this friendship shit people keep yapping about.
[ His words may sound flippant, but is tone is firm, showing that the conviction behind them is nothing to be trifled with. Maybe it's a silly, idealistic dream; maybe there's nothing at the end of this road, and all he'll end up doing is bringing the poor woman even more pain. Still... he wants to try. She might have given up on life, but he refuses to give up on her. ]
And if after all that, you still decide you've had enough... then I'll kill you myself.
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She recognizes what she’s being asked to do, but… it’s difficult.
Ugh.
Gradually, her surprised expression fades into something thoughtful. Hard to read. Her brow furrows.]
… If you’re threatening to kill me, just know that I won’t make it easy. [She was a coward, in her opinion. But she would not die without honorable struggle. It was antithetical to what an android was.
Odd.
She had never considered that before.] Fine. Whatever. I’ll do it! But stop with your… [an irritated wave of her hand before she glances away with a scoff. Despite her annoyance, she seems a bit flustered.] hero speeches.
[After that, she adds, glancing at him sideways:] You don’t do any of that, do you? Friendship and shit. Don’t be a hypocrite.
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Wouldn't have it any other way.
[ Though if her attitude is any indication, maybe he won't have to. Regardless, his expression sours a moment later when she calls him out; he doesn't like confronting the fact he's awful at practicing what he preaches, since it's easier to just ignore his own good advice and pretend it applies to everyone in the world but himself. ]
Call me a "hero" again and I might not wait with the ass-kicking. [ The man scoffs, propping his chin on his hand as he looks away from her to the side. ] And I do have a hobby.
[ So it's not like he doesn't do any of it! Yes, it's semantics, but he just doesn't want to admit she's right by calling him a hypocrite. ]
... I may be an asshole, but even I'm not cynical enough to claim it doesn't work for some people.
[ Not him, of course. Nope. Not in the slightest. He'll just... try not to think about the people here he's genuinely grown to care for. That's... different, somehow. ]
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[Her usual attitude seems to have reasserted itself again. At least she isn't thinking about dying at the moment though. Instead she quietly listens to his careful omission: some people. So not him, then.
Something to think about at another time, she supposes. It wasn't really her business, but... he'd sat here trying to help her, albeit in an annoying and pushy way (in her opinion). It didn't sit well with her not to return a favor in some way. For now she steps away from the precipice again.]
... So. What about you? What's your wish, anyway?
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[ His confidence, while borderline careless, is not entirely unfounded, so he's not even remotely discouraged by her comment. Her question that follows, on the other hand, seems to throw him off, all his bravado disappearing in a blink of an eye, replaced by uncharacteristic hesitance. ]
I...
[ The man trails off, his expression turning somewhat wistful with his gaze fixed on the horizon, though he can't really see it; no, instead a different scene plays out in his mind, one that he's seen hundreds of times before: two little kids, a boy and a girl, both with golden hair and green eyes, playing in a field of flowers. An old nun approaching them, carrying a basket full of fresh produce. The idyllic scenery doesn't last, however, as a sneer breaks through it at the back of his head:
Ragna grits his teeth in frustration, any traces of his previous, playful attitude gone together with that silly, naive daydream. How stupid of him to even give it any time of the day; it's not like it could ever come true. No, it must never come true... for the sake of everyone involved. So when he finally continues his thought, he does so in a dismissive, angry tone. ]
─don't see how that's relevant.
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[It seems that regardless of their fifteen minutes being up or not, she's had enough. Her chair screeches across the floor as she pushes herself away from the table.]
Asshole... [She grumbles before turning to leave, still fuming as she does. What a hypocrite!]