[They shouldn't be surprised. Even if Altius wasn't exactly in his right mind at the time, he did leave a bit of damage in his wake. And probably destroyed more than just that table in the library after.]
< ...You know, for all the talk about "rehabilitation" they give, I still don't know what that looks like for any of us. Especially when sticking around in here can be so dangerous. >
[Altius hums to acknowledge it. Ultimately, the practical aspects of his sentencing haeve seemed more ridiculous than anything—but the fact that they would manipulate his emotions to punish him for having his emotions manipulated is infuriating in its hypocrisy.
He bites back his anger towards the idea of this whole system, but some of it he allows through in his expression. For all his moment of lecturing towards that piece of the program was satisfying, it didn't last, and he doubts it will amount to anything.]
Even if they truly believe they seek redemption for us—inasmuch as code can believe in anything—they have no answers to that question and don't listen to ours when we try to give them.
[Persuasion isn't an avenue he's keen to close off, but it seems highly unlikely. He lets a breath out through his nose.]
But that danger makes it all the more important for us to take care of each other. [He turns his eye back to Dante.] If you do start feeling anything off... will you let me know, if you can?
[They can't promise anything. For all they know, this odd mood of theirs, no matter how much it's lingering, is normal. They've been through a lot here. Why wouldn't it get to be too much sometimes? Why not just wait for it all to blow over?
A thought comes to mind. It leaves them before they can pull it back.]
< You think any of it matters, Altius? You think it'll ever be satisfied? >
[He knows any true promise would be easily broken, through no fault of their own. Who knows how many promises have been made in this place, only to be rendered moot by the machinations of this world and its attempts to mold them into people they're not. He can only trust that they'll do their best.
... and what a question that is to ask a man who'd only recently expressed a lack of belief in any meaning at all. In his face there's a brief hint of surprise, a rise of his eyebrows and a loosening of his expression, before it all settles into serious consideration.
According to what he's learned this program has been ongoing for less than thirty years, but... how many years has it been? Long enough for a program to evolve? To begin to feel? How long until it understands that redemption is a concept too mutable and indistinct to measure by any machine's standards?]
I don't know that it can be, [he answers honestly, but there's something solid to his tone and the way he keeps his eyes on Dante. He tilts his head slightly towards them.] What matters is that we make it through this as best we can, whatever it does or doesn't believe.
< Right. Sorry, that was a silly question. Maybe I am more affected than I thought. >
[Or maybe it makes for a nice excuse. It's not like they haven't had moments of doubt before either. It all just seems to blur together, the question of what they feel vs what they're being made to feel. It should bother them more.]
< But thanks all the same. >
[They turn to face him and try to sound more confident than they feel.]
< I'll try and keep my chin up. Or, uh, whatever the equivalent is for me. >
[He smiles slightly in an attempt to reassure them, and it's made a little brighter by their attempt to brush past it. With a faint chuckle:]
Alright—but you don't have to apologize. I'm glad you felt like you could ask me. [He puts a hand on their shoulder for a moment—a longer moment than usual, perhaps—before offering two encouraging pats and shifting back to rest against the tree trunk.]
[Ah. He's feeling better now. Or he's got more control over his new power. They're curious, but now doesn't seem like the best time to ask. It certainly isn't very restful.
...It's nice to have him back.]
< Definitely. > [It's nice out, and peaceful enough to allow for it here. So...] < Just say something if you need me for anything, okay? >
[Their shoulders relax as they lean back against the trunk of the tree behind them, the fire that surrounds their head beginning to dim. And as the sun's warmth sinks in through the limbs of the trees, they turn their gaze to the Star that never sets in their sky, and they rest.]
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[They shouldn't be surprised. Even if Altius wasn't exactly in his right mind at the time, he did leave a bit of damage in his wake. And probably destroyed more than just that table in the library after.]
< ...You know, for all the talk about "rehabilitation" they give, I still don't know what that looks like for any of us. Especially when sticking around in here can be so dangerous. >
no subject
He bites back his anger towards the idea of this whole system, but some of it he allows through in his expression. For all his moment of lecturing towards that piece of the program was satisfying, it didn't last, and he doubts it will amount to anything.]
Even if they truly believe they seek redemption for us—inasmuch as code can believe in anything—they have no answers to that question and don't listen to ours when we try to give them.
[Persuasion isn't an avenue he's keen to close off, but it seems highly unlikely. He lets a breath out through his nose.]
But that danger makes it all the more important for us to take care of each other. [He turns his eye back to Dante.] If you do start feeling anything off... will you let me know, if you can?
no subject
[They can't promise anything. For all they know, this odd mood of theirs, no matter how much it's lingering, is normal. They've been through a lot here. Why wouldn't it get to be too much sometimes? Why not just wait for it all to blow over?
A thought comes to mind. It leaves them before they can pull it back.]
< You think any of it matters, Altius? You think it'll ever be satisfied? >
no subject
... and what a question that is to ask a man who'd only recently expressed a lack of belief in any meaning at all. In his face there's a brief hint of surprise, a rise of his eyebrows and a loosening of his expression, before it all settles into serious consideration.
According to what he's learned this program has been ongoing for less than thirty years, but... how many years has it been? Long enough for a program to evolve? To begin to feel? How long until it understands that redemption is a concept too mutable and indistinct to measure by any machine's standards?]
I don't know that it can be, [he answers honestly, but there's something solid to his tone and the way he keeps his eyes on Dante. He tilts his head slightly towards them.] What matters is that we make it through this as best we can, whatever it does or doesn't believe.
no subject
[Or maybe it makes for a nice excuse. It's not like they haven't had moments of doubt before either. It all just seems to blur together, the question of what they feel vs what they're being made to feel. It should bother them more.]
< But thanks all the same. >
[They turn to face him and try to sound more confident than they feel.]
< I'll try and keep my chin up. Or, uh, whatever the equivalent is for me. >
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Alright—but you don't have to apologize. I'm glad you felt like you could ask me. [He puts a hand on their shoulder for a moment—a longer moment than usual, perhaps—before offering two encouraging pats and shifting back to rest against the tree trunk.]
For now I think we've earned some rest, hm...?
no subject
...It's nice to have him back.]
< Definitely. > [It's nice out, and peaceful enough to allow for it here. So...] < Just say something if you need me for anything, okay? >
[Their shoulders relax as they lean back against the trunk of the tree behind them, the fire that surrounds their head beginning to dim. And as the sun's warmth sinks in through the limbs of the trees, they turn their gaze to the Star that never sets in their sky, and they rest.]