I am making the bold assumption that you made it home safely after all the frigid commotion.
[ This is sent the afternoon of the day the streets are slowly becoming safe to travel again. Gil would have texted sooner, if not for the fact that the network device is extremely cumbersome to carry around so he... kind of didn't have it with him when he got stuck. Oops. Well, he's home now, and ready to bother his only friend in this weird town. ]
[ These little reminders that Gil has an extra two years of life on him are constantly unsettling, but thinking of him outside the controlled confines of a colony is particularly odd. ]
Now you're being bold. Did you run out of things to poke and prod?
[ Yes, he put a kaomoji there. Yes, he hopes you'll forget the deep hatred it made you feel by the time he gets to your place.
Which does take a bit because it's still massively snowy and he's trying not to either slip on ice and eat shit, nor to get his legs stuck in a snowbank. Even a thick winter coat and boots are not doing great to hold out the cold, so once Gil arrives at Rau's doorstep, he looks like a very rednosed snowman.
Ring ring, doorbell. Please let him in, he'll die. ]
[ Rau opens the door in large part because he wants to see if the kaomoji is the result of some bizarre plant- or food-induced status effect. After looking him up and down, Rau is slightly disappointed to see that Gil is just an icicle -- although being an icicle is visibly amusing, too. ]
My. You've looked better.
[ He doesn't immediately invite Gil in, though he will sooner than later if Gil doesn't just walk in. Rau has a vested interest in Gil not dying. ]
[ This is said in the very awkward way of articulating that you get when your cheeks are frozen stiff. Gil is not going to wait for being invited - Rau gave him permission to come over already, they do not need to play games at the door. Not that banter isn't a beautiful pastime, but is is too fucking cold for that. At least, he does have the grace to brush as much snow off his clothes as possible before dragging it all into Rau's apartment. ]
[ Rau tsks in soft disapproval at the mess this will make, but there's no real venom in it because it's still funny to see Gil frozen and struggling. On the other hand, he's doing absolutely nothing to be helpful -- after he closes the door against the chill, he just folds his arms and smirks. Rau would be perfectly gracious if he had a guest, but Gil is, annoyingly, too domestic and mundane to really be a guest. ]
But, of course, it was so urgent to tell me something that couldn't be shared by network.
[ Rau's voice is all faux polite interest, but really, he's just baiting Gil to admit that he wandered over because he was bored.
Beyond the doorway, the small space is tidily kept and completely impersonal other than a pad of handwritten notes next to a large stack of newspapers. "Tidy" could be applied to Rau with equal accuracy; because that wearing a uniform is more conspicuous than not, he's reverted to his posh roots and is wearing a button-down and slacks. But for the mask, it would all be perfectly mundane. ]
[ Gil peels off his thick gloves and even thicker jacket, to leave dripping miserably at Rau's coat hangers. The generations prior did have the right idea about moving to space, if it meant avoiding such massive inconvenience. ]
I never said it was urgent. It's more that work has been canceled due to the weather, so it's convenient timing.
[ So yeah, he was bored. Gil slips out of his shoes as well because they'd just track hell all through Rau's living room. The only snowy thing that he's going to carry further inside is his briefcase. ]
But you are correct that I'd prefer to leave my findings off the network as a matter of principle.
[ Rau looks from from Gil to his coat and back again -- moving his head so it's a visibly deliberate gesture rather than a glance hidden behind the mask -- with a faintly mocking smile. ]
Very convenient.
[ But the promise of information gets Rau to step out of the entryway space and take a seat in the small apartment, which is all the invitation Gil will get to do the same. (He makes no effort to put away the newspapers and notes, which are about the Solstice Ball incident and the recent kidnappings, away. Even if it were worth hiding, Gil has kept much more important things quiet.) ]
[ Being free from the coat at least gives Gil the freedom to simply smile and shrug at that comment. Fair enough.
Just like his own apartment, the accommodations here are nothing to write home about. Certainly a far cry from what their salaries could afford them in their old lives. It makes sitting down across from Rau feel strangely conspiratorial - a vibe that is not helped by the investigating Rau has clearly been doing.
From his briefcase, Gil produces a folder and hands it over to Rau. ]
It's a copy, you can keep it.
[ Opening the folder will reveal printouts upon printouts of data on the Monsters and their physical makeup - microscope pictures, experiment reports on how the goo reacts to various chemicals, and so on and so forth. Some handwritten notes in the margin have also been copied over. ]
The gist of it is that the material we retrieved as 'blood' makes up their entire bodies. The amount of mass a Monster needs to sustain itself is not fixed - you can remove a significant amount of its body without harming it. It will merely shrink. The same matter can then be reapplied to inspire growth. This does not appear to cause any specific distress.
[ He takes the folder with a thoughtful frown and, for a moment, looks at the briefcase like he expects there to be a pill-sized Umbra rattling around in a sealed beaker -- though no, surely taking something like that out of the laboratory is a bridge too far for Gil. ]
That certainly isn't true for souls.
[ He runs his fingers through his hair, tugging a few strands loose. They clearly do not function as miniature versions of himself. And yes, he knows as well as anyone that microscopic portions of those strands could be converted into embryonic stem cells and eventually grow into a doppelganger, but that's not the same as dividing into two immediately functioning versions of himself. What Gil is describing sounds more like cutting and grafting trees.
He opens the folder for an initial skim, and for a few minutes he's simply focused and intent. When he looks up, he's serious, thoughtful, briefly devoid of mockery or needling. ]
How do you intend to restore a monster to a soul, when any monster could be a part or a patchwork?
[ Gil doesn't mind just watching Rau as he reads. Even as the mask hides the most expressive parts of his face, the way he's focusing is still obvious in the way he holds his shoulders, the slight press of his lips. It's nice. It fills him with a certain pride that he's brought something interesting enough to hold Rau's attention like that - a repayment for when Rau delivered the first Umbra to him. A gift for a gift. ]
I don't think it's quite so limitless. I've looked into the reports delivered by my new researcher colleagues - if a Monster is injured enough, it will dissolve into individual ghosts. That implies that the merging of souls within Monsters isn't permanent or irreversible, even if there is intermingling involved.
[ As he speaks, he rapidly shifts from watching Rau to staring into space with great intent as though there was a scientifically sound future that he could already see if only he tries hard enough. ]
There must be a smallest possible amount of Monster that one can take before the matter dissolves back into a singular substance-less Ghost. Fixing Ghosts in that position, solid enough to work on... I think that's the best base conditions for restoring it into a proper Soul.
But there are a lot of other factors to be worked out before I can test this hypothesis.
[ Rau is fairly indifferent to the idea of turning any particular monster or ghost back into a whole soul -- he doesn't know anyone who has become a ghost or monster, and isn't concerned about becoming one himself -- but he's absolutely interested in what the underlying research might show about the nature of Requiem and souls, particularly why Niesha permits, or is forced to tolerate, the presence of ghosts and monsters in her city. And he's absolutely interested in ribbing Gil for grandiose and/or messianic tendencies.
He closes the folder and rests his chin in a hand. ]
[ Don't you just love that angelic smile which makes people want to follow him into hell for the promise of a paradise awaiting them on the other end? There's a sincerity in it that's like catnip to weaker personalities than Rau, who is unfortunately irresistible specifically because of his immunity. ]
Mind you, I don't believe it will be easy or fast to achieve. But I'm not in the habit of taking strange goddesses' word for what can or cannot be done.
[ Rau's conviction that nothing will ever get better makes optimism-based appeals ineffective with him, yes. He waves Gil's smile and confidence away with the flick of a hand. ]
It would be a difficult habit to form, given the absence of goddesses in life.
[ But, more seriously, with the crisp efficiency of real interest -- ]
Let me know whether she helps, hinders, or ignores your work.
[ At least the shining optimism is replaced by a more focused expression quickly enough. ]
Nominally, the whole Research department has an interest in this but everyone's pet fields of study are highly specialized and often not particularly goal-oriented. So I don't think she's had a lot of reason to take an interest yet.
[ He obviously plans to change that sooner rather than later, but for starting out it is just as well that nobody seems particularly interested in the mumblings of a lot of people in labcoats talking right past one another. Less scrutiny really widens the scope of what you can get away with. ]
[ No one pays attention to the university's goings-on because most researchers have their heads in the clouds, got it. Well, Gil can tell him if and when that starts to change. ]
She's been preoccupied, at least in the last month.
[ He flips through the stack of newspapers, pulls out the edition covering Niesha's post-Solstice Ball speech, and passes it over. ]
[ Gil takes his time to read through it. He's heard whisperings of the Solstice Ball here and there, but he'd been too absorbed in his scientific work to go dig into it. Maybe this goes to show being a politician had tired him out more than he realized. Throwing himself headfirst into labwork has basically been a vacation...
When he is done with the article, Gil exhales in a low whistle. ]
Talk about a PR disaster.
[ Niesha, how are you even Mayor... ]
I wonder how many gods on the level of Niesha and Nemesis are out there - knowing that she is not the only force who could have a hand in our eventual fates is valuable.
Public relations are particularly dangerous, if the rule of expectations applies to Niesha herself.
[ Can eroding trust in a goddess's capabilities actually undermine those capabilities? Rau would love to put that to the test. Perhaps something can be engineered to trip her up, the same way that leaking the details of Operation Spitbreak was attributed to the Clynes. ]
How many gods, and what their objectives are. You'll note that our mayor-queen fails to identify why a goddess of entropy wants to destroy Limbo.
I expect she doesn't believe it warrants explanation. Entropy is a universal constant after all, a simple set of rules that indicates that everything must eventually burn out and die.
[ So clearly, a law of nature that Rau should enjoy. Gil does shoot him an according knowing glance. ]
If Nemesis if after Limbo and the souls it holds, one must wonder what that means for us on the cellular level. Is this realm aptly named? Are we truly 'in limbo', stagnating our modest contribution to the heat death of the universe?
[ It would be exciting if they were. Unlike most others, Gil kind of wants Niesha's bureaucratic machine to slow down even further, giving him the next bit of eternity to study all this new input and craft a utopia like never seen before. ]
[ Rau meets that glance totally deadpan, and not just because wearing a mask makes it easy to be deadpan about most things. Entropy as a long-term law of thermodynamics is too distant to be particularly interesting to Rau, actually. Stars growing cold billions of years in the future is less fun than humanity blowing itself up now. Entropy as a social and political concept, on the other hand -- ]
Entropy can be disorder, as well. Decay seeping into a system, creating chaos or stagnation or both.
[ He's not chiding Gil for thinking too much like a scientist, though, and his tone is more serious than challenging or bantering. Without more information on Nemesis, it seems genuinely important to think about entropy in the broadest sense of the term. (Also something something city bureaucracy something something regulatory capture as an example of entropy.) Rau settles back, thoughtful again. ]
In either case, the existence of Requiem and souls would seem to be stalling some process.
Souls are meant to be processed - and from the grumblings you can hear about our dear Mayor here and there, she hasn't always been slacking.
[ Gil interlaces his hands, as he likes to do when he's thinking. Coming at it from a strictly personal point of view, he's grateful that Niescha's dropped the ball on sending Souls on their merry way. He is a lot more interested in working with what Limbo has for him than he is in passing on peacefully. The chance for peace in death has come and gone, ripped from him the second he found himself on that train awake and alert. ]
So far, I'd been thinking of that as a nuisance only to those within Requiem, contained in our little microcosm of the dead... That was shortsighted of me. The existence of Anima suggests that Souls and energy are closely linked. Congregating so many Souls and keeping them for a prolonged amount of time might be upsetting some kind of balance.
What a shame. The imbalance is working so nicely in our favor.
[ He holds up a hand and observes its relative steadiness for a moment. It's an odd thing, that in death he's been given a chance to live. But now that he has the opportunity, he doesn't want to give it up for something as undeserving as a well-functioning universe. ]
[ That makes Gil laugh, a short but very genuine sound. ]
I was not kidding about that part.
[ Even if they've amply communicated the unspoken awareness that mostly he just wanted to hang out for a bit. ]
There's a number of substances here that don't exist in our world in quite the same form. Even though I expect my medicine to work, I'm not taking risks with your health.
[ As he speaks, he reaches into his bag yet again to produce a small black case containing his testing kit. ]
[ He rolls up his sleeve obligingly -- he can't really fuss about routine testing after putting that Umbra through it. But the question of expectation and medicine is interesting. If Gil gave him a placebo, would Gil's expectation that it wouldn't work trump Rau's expectation that it would work? (If it was all a matter of anima, was the question irrelevant?) ]
[ There is the briefest moment of hesitation before Gil puts his hands on Rau's arm to hold it steady and apply his scratch testing. He's confirmed that Rau is tangible before, of course, but there is still a part of him that expects his fingers to go right through. Touching is weird in a way that just talking isn't - two years of hallucinations will do that to you, Gil has to grudgingly accept.
He gets over it fast though, and the actual application of the tests is quick and clinical. For all his faults, he is a decent doctor and he and Rau have played through this song and dance often enough. ]
"Expectations" are collective, so I'm afraid simply expecting to make better medicines is nothing more than a mildly amusing joke. Nobody has reasoned out just how many Souls need to share a belief in order for it to take physical shape here, but just one or two people do not account for notable changes in reality.
[ Rau notes the hesitation, and would chase after it if there wasn't a shinier idea in front of him. He's watched beliefs on both sides of a war shift in response to speech-making and propaganda, and he sincerely doubts that world politics changed dramatically after his death -- even if Gil may have been more subtle about it than Patrick Zala and Ezaria Jule. ]
But a collective can be mistaken or manipulated, or both.
[ His free hand flicks to the newspaper. ]
If enough souls hear and think Niesha cannot protect us, does she lose some power?
[ Nobody is losing any literal magic, of course, but so much of politics is having people believe you're capable of following through on your promises. It's not as on the nose as the power of expectations, but Gil thinks it'd be a mistake to call that kind of effect intangible.
He's smiling like this is all some private joke, because really... It kind of is. Rau has never seen him in his function as propaganda king, but Gil is still quite proud of himself. ]
Attempting to weaken Niesha comes dangerously close to biting the hand that feeds, of course. Given our precarious state of existence, I'd urge to have a plan for redirecting that hypothetical power elsewhere.
[ That's a bold smile -- Rau's lips quirk into a visibly surprised oh for a moment, before slipping back into a smile of his own. ]
You're too attached to existence to put her power to the test?
[ For all that Rau is himself attached to existence-after-death, he would be willing to take some calculated risks to learn how to pull the levers of the universe. ]
[ There is a lot Rau doesn't know about him now. Most of the time this feels like a nuisance, disturbing what used to be a reasonably close relationship. In this specific case though, Gil is deriving a good amount of enjoyment from. Maybe he shouldn't feel so pleased with himself for what was an ultimately unsuccessful attempt to take over the world but... it was pretty good for a while there, alright? ]
I didn't say that - just that I'd like for the risk to be calculated. Besides, isn't it a waste to weaken one powerbase without strengthening another?
[ ... actually...... ]
Don't answer that, I know you love your violent anarchy.
[ Rau laughs -- briefly, quietly, but with real amusement. Having Gil here for medicine is useful, but having Gil here for conversation is entertaining. There are only two people Rau is willing to be this candid with, and only one he can tolerate doing this sort of physical examination. ]
Not just me.
[ He was giving humanity exactly what it wanted in terms of world-ending hyper-violence. ]
One could test the opposite, at least in theory -- "Niesha can protect us," "Niesha can keep Nemesis at bay." But reassuring a city would be more difficult than stirring up panic.
And more than that - doing so would mean tying one's own credibility to a government that seems... mismanaged, as the absolute most generous interpretation.
[ Niesha can handle her own PR, he's not touching that nightmare with a ten foot pole, thank you very much. ]
What I am wondering is if there is a limit to what 'expectations' can influence. Is it just this world, Niesha and the wraiths? Things that belong her? Or would it be possible to siphon power for yourself, as a Soul that came here from a different world?
[ He tilts his wrist as he says it, emphasizing the little test scratches by way of illustration. But. Talking politics and power is stirring up curiosity that he's been keeping in check since Gil told him on the train about taking control of the PLANTs and the Alliance. Rau knows Gil as a researcher, but Gil as a political force is mostly a matter of informed guesswork. This could be a decent time to needle more information out of him about it. ]
Though you’ll want to find somewhere -- [ he relaxes his wrist, deliberately brushing his hand against Gil’s fingers with the tiny movement ] -- to “redirect that hypothetical power” first. To be safe, that is.
[ They have a ten minute wait until it's worth it to conclusively check for reactions, so theoretically this would be a great time to lean back into his chair and bring back normal conversational distance. It's just the small touch that delays Gil from doing so, that keeps his eyes on Rau's bare hands for a moment longer than necessary.
When he then leans back and focuses his eyes on Rau's face again, he once again feels the strange difference of time between them. ]
If I told you I want that power for myself, you'd have every right to scold me for having learned nothing.
[ Rau's voice is still light and lazy, but a forced quality starts to creep in at the very edges of the words, and he reaches out to place a hand over Gil's chest for a beat. Rau isn't bothered by wanting power -- playing god is only human. But if Gil hasn't learned anything from Rey choosing to shoot him in the chest over "destiny," then Rau is kicking him out in the snow without his coat. ]
[ The same gesture as on the train, unmistakable and clear. It is just as effective in throwing Gil off his game as it was then, if not more so. There's a beat where his expression goes blank, like he hasn't quite sorted out what face to make here. What he wants for the future is a jumble now, compared to the clarity of the Destiny Plan that he's spent decades honing, but... ]
Not enough.
[ The blank melts away into a thin smile, melancholy and self-ironic. ]
I'll leave the living to the living, and I'm certainly not planning to make an afterlife that would make Rey sad.
[ He is still waiting for him, thinking he might arrive on the next train. What kind of expression would he greet him with? It's difficult to imagine. ]
But I'm myself, and I cannot let an imperfect world remain as is. This afterlife isn't sustainable - you know it, I know it, and surely so does Niesha.
[ Rau’s hand is much steadier than it was that day on the train, and he’s significantly less tense; this gesture is an admonition rather than an angry, unsettled bid for connection and understanding. Still, there’s a faint frown on his face as he drops his hand and draws back. An afterlife that would make Rey sad, hm? It’s tempting to ask what Gil if he can articulate what that would entail, but, knowing only one-sided snippets of things, Rau isn’t completely certain that he could call Gil out on a wrong answer. Rey thought today could be better than yesterday, certainly, but even something as mundane as sitting here was infinitely better than rotting alone in Mendel. ]
Perhaps it doesn’t want to be sustained.
[ But there’s no heat to the words. For all that the ever-increasing ghost and monster population shows that Requiem is unsustainable, souls really aren’t as self-destructive as living humans of the Cosmic Era, and this place hasn’t quite stirred up Rau’s inclinations to facilitate mass destruction yet.
And speaking of wrong answers -- well, a destroyed Requiem wouldn’t have much of a “tomorrow.” ]
[ Gil is silent for a moment. Rau and him have always viewed desire differently. To Gil at his most extremist, wanting something is a sign of an imperfect world, that you are not yet as content as you could be in your rightful place. So it shouldn't matter what Requiem wants, what its denizens want. An ideal reality, an ideal afterlife, should have to lay beyond the concept of wanting... Should, anyhow.
Rey wanted tomorrow, uncertain and imperfect. It's that wish that brought Gil here, and he should at least try to honor it.
So Gil won't argue the point of wanting. Instead, he asks a simpler question. ]
Do you want it to disappear? To disappear alongside it?
[ Rey is Rau and Rau is Rey, in essence but not in execution. Their desires are different, the way they feel about Gil and Gil feels about them is different. How different are their answers?
How much or little has death changed Rau from the beast clinging to existence for its own destructive purposes, vibrant and mesmerizing in just how alive it feels? ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
un: whiteking; private text message
[ This is sent the afternoon of the day the streets are slowly becoming safe to travel again. Gil would have texted sooner, if not for the fact that the network device is extremely cumbersome to carry around so he... kind of didn't have it with him when he got stuck. Oops. Well, he's home now, and ready to bother his only friend in this weird town. ]
text; un: providence
[ Trying to sneak around in the snow is such a pain in the ass, though. ]
no subject
[ It only occurs to him after hitting 'send' that this was after Rau's passing, so he had no real way of knowing it. Hm. Weird. ]
Either way, tell me now if you want me to bring anything when I come over.
[ Which he will. No escape. He has invited himself. ]
no subject
Now you're being bold. Did you run out of things to poke and prod?
no subject
And speaking of poking and prodding:
a) I have some preliminary results I want to show you.
b) I want to run a small allergy test on you because I had to slightly alter the ingredients for your order according to afterlife availability.
[ And also yes, he absolutely wants to just hang out. He just happens to be very good at collecting excuses. ]
no subject
Bring the results, then.
[ He's not going to ask for anything, when his ability to function already depends on Gil. ]
text->action
[ Yes, he put a kaomoji there. Yes, he hopes you'll forget the deep hatred it made you feel by the time he gets to your place.
Which does take a bit because it's still massively snowy and he's trying not to either slip on ice and eat shit, nor to get his legs stuck in a snowbank. Even a thick winter coat and boots are not doing great to hold out the cold, so once Gil arrives at Rau's doorstep, he looks like a very rednosed snowman.
Ring ring, doorbell. Please let him in, he'll die. ]
no subject
My. You've looked better.
[ He doesn't immediately invite Gil in, though he will sooner than later if Gil doesn't just walk in. Rau has a vested interest in Gil not dying. ]
no subject
[ This is said in the very awkward way of articulating that you get when your cheeks are frozen stiff. Gil is not going to wait for being invited - Rau gave him permission to come over already, they do not need to play games at the door. Not that banter isn't a beautiful pastime, but is is too fucking cold for that. At least, he does have the grace to brush as much snow off his clothes as possible before dragging it all into Rau's apartment. ]
no subject
But, of course, it was so urgent to tell me something that couldn't be shared by network.
[ Rau's voice is all faux polite interest, but really, he's just baiting Gil to admit that he wandered over because he was bored.
Beyond the doorway, the small space is tidily kept and completely impersonal other than a pad of handwritten notes next to a large stack of newspapers. "Tidy" could be applied to Rau with equal accuracy; because that wearing a uniform is more conspicuous than not, he's reverted to his posh roots and is wearing a button-down and slacks. But for the mask, it would all be perfectly mundane. ]
no subject
[ Gil peels off his thick gloves and even thicker jacket, to leave dripping miserably at Rau's coat hangers. The generations prior did have the right idea about moving to space, if it meant avoiding such massive inconvenience. ]
I never said it was urgent. It's more that work has been canceled due to the weather, so it's convenient timing.
[ So yeah, he was bored. Gil slips out of his shoes as well because they'd just track hell all through Rau's living room. The only snowy thing that he's going to carry further inside is his briefcase. ]
But you are correct that I'd prefer to leave my findings off the network as a matter of principle.
no subject
Very convenient.
[ But the promise of information gets Rau to step out of the entryway space and take a seat in the small apartment, which is all the invitation Gil will get to do the same. (He makes no effort to put away the newspapers and notes, which are about the Solstice Ball incident and the recent kidnappings, away. Even if it were worth hiding, Gil has kept much more important things quiet.) ]
no subject
Just like his own apartment, the accommodations here are nothing to write home about. Certainly a far cry from what their salaries could afford them in their old lives. It makes sitting down across from Rau feel strangely conspiratorial - a vibe that is not helped by the investigating Rau has clearly been doing.
From his briefcase, Gil produces a folder and hands it over to Rau. ]
It's a copy, you can keep it.
[ Opening the folder will reveal printouts upon printouts of data on the Monsters and their physical makeup - microscope pictures, experiment reports on how the goo reacts to various chemicals, and so on and so forth. Some handwritten notes in the margin have also been copied over. ]
The gist of it is that the material we retrieved as 'blood' makes up their entire bodies. The amount of mass a Monster needs to sustain itself is not fixed - you can remove a significant amount of its body without harming it. It will merely shrink. The same matter can then be reapplied to inspire growth. This does not appear to cause any specific distress.
no subject
That certainly isn't true for souls.
[ He runs his fingers through his hair, tugging a few strands loose. They clearly do not function as miniature versions of himself. And yes, he knows as well as anyone that microscopic portions of those strands could be converted into embryonic stem cells and eventually grow into a doppelganger, but that's not the same as dividing into two immediately functioning versions of himself. What Gil is describing sounds more like cutting and grafting trees.
He opens the folder for an initial skim, and for a few minutes he's simply focused and intent. When he looks up, he's serious, thoughtful, briefly devoid of mockery or needling. ]
How do you intend to restore a monster to a soul, when any monster could be a part or a patchwork?
no subject
I don't think it's quite so limitless. I've looked into the reports delivered by my new researcher colleagues - if a Monster is injured enough, it will dissolve into individual ghosts. That implies that the merging of souls within Monsters isn't permanent or irreversible, even if there is intermingling involved.
[ As he speaks, he rapidly shifts from watching Rau to staring into space with great intent as though there was a scientifically sound future that he could already see if only he tries hard enough. ]
There must be a smallest possible amount of Monster that one can take before the matter dissolves back into a singular substance-less Ghost. Fixing Ghosts in that position, solid enough to work on... I think that's the best base conditions for restoring it into a proper Soul.
But there are a lot of other factors to be worked out before I can test this hypothesis.
no subject
[ Rau is fairly indifferent to the idea of turning any particular monster or ghost back into a whole soul -- he doesn't know anyone who has become a ghost or monster, and isn't concerned about becoming one himself -- but he's absolutely interested in what the underlying research might show about the nature of Requiem and souls, particularly why Niesha permits, or is forced to tolerate, the presence of ghosts and monsters in her city. And he's absolutely interested in ribbing Gil for grandiose and/or messianic tendencies.
He closes the folder and rests his chin in a hand. ]
But you believe it can be done.
no subject
[ Don't you just love that angelic smile which makes people want to follow him into hell for the promise of a paradise awaiting them on the other end? There's a sincerity in it that's like catnip to weaker personalities than Rau, who is unfortunately irresistible specifically because of his immunity. ]
Mind you, I don't believe it will be easy or fast to achieve. But I'm not in the habit of taking strange goddesses' word for what can or cannot be done.
no subject
It would be a difficult habit to form, given the absence of goddesses in life.
[ But, more seriously, with the crisp efficiency of real interest -- ]
Let me know whether she helps, hinders, or ignores your work.
no subject
[ At least the shining optimism is replaced by a more focused expression quickly enough. ]
Nominally, the whole Research department has an interest in this but everyone's pet fields of study are highly specialized and often not particularly goal-oriented. So I don't think she's had a lot of reason to take an interest yet.
[ He obviously plans to change that sooner rather than later, but for starting out it is just as well that nobody seems particularly interested in the mumblings of a lot of people in labcoats talking right past one another. Less scrutiny really widens the scope of what you can get away with. ]
no subject
She's been preoccupied, at least in the last month.
[ He flips through the stack of newspapers, pulls out the edition covering Niesha's post-Solstice Ball speech, and passes it over. ]
no subject
When he is done with the article, Gil exhales in a low whistle. ]
Talk about a PR disaster.
[ Niesha, how are you even Mayor... ]
I wonder how many gods on the level of Niesha and Nemesis are out there - knowing that she is not the only force who could have a hand in our eventual fates is valuable.
no subject
[ Can eroding trust in a goddess's capabilities actually undermine those capabilities? Rau would love to put that to the test. Perhaps something can be engineered to trip her up, the same way that leaking the details of Operation Spitbreak was attributed to the Clynes. ]
How many gods, and what their objectives are. You'll note that our mayor-queen fails to identify why a goddess of entropy wants to destroy Limbo.
no subject
[ So clearly, a law of nature that Rau should enjoy. Gil does shoot him an according knowing glance. ]
If Nemesis if after Limbo and the souls it holds, one must wonder what that means for us on the cellular level. Is this realm aptly named? Are we truly 'in limbo', stagnating our modest contribution to the heat death of the universe?
[ It would be exciting if they were. Unlike most others, Gil kind of wants Niesha's bureaucratic machine to slow down even further, giving him the next bit of eternity to study all this new input and craft a utopia like never seen before. ]
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Entropy can be disorder, as well. Decay seeping into a system, creating chaos or stagnation or both.
[ He's not chiding Gil for thinking too much like a scientist, though, and his tone is more serious than challenging or bantering. Without more information on Nemesis, it seems genuinely important to think about entropy in the broadest sense of the term. (Also something something city bureaucracy something something regulatory capture as an example of entropy.) Rau settles back, thoughtful again. ]
In either case, the existence of Requiem and souls would seem to be stalling some process.
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[ Gil interlaces his hands, as he likes to do when he's thinking. Coming at it from a strictly personal point of view, he's grateful that Niescha's dropped the ball on sending Souls on their merry way. He is a lot more interested in working with what Limbo has for him than he is in passing on peacefully. The chance for peace in death has come and gone, ripped from him the second he found himself on that train awake and alert. ]
So far, I'd been thinking of that as a nuisance only to those within Requiem, contained in our little microcosm of the dead... That was shortsighted of me. The existence of Anima suggests that Souls and energy are closely linked. Congregating so many Souls and keeping them for a prolonged amount of time might be upsetting some kind of balance.
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[ He holds up a hand and observes its relative steadiness for a moment. It's an odd thing, that in death he's been given a chance to live. But now that he has the opportunity, he doesn't want to give it up for something as undeserving as a well-functioning universe. ]
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[ He breaks into an easy smile, even as he follows Rau's gaze to his hand. ]
Does Anima or lack thereof affect your remnant symptoms at all?
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It's better than it was at the end. Perhaps it's anima, perhaps it's that I don't expect my body to be dying when I'm already dead.
[ He holds out his hand to Gil, palm down, and the frown slips into a wry, slight smile. ]
But of course, you came here to run an allergy test.
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I was not kidding about that part.
[ Even if they've amply communicated the unspoken awareness that mostly he just wanted to hang out for a bit. ]
There's a number of substances here that don't exist in our world in quite the same form. Even though I expect my medicine to work, I'm not taking risks with your health.
[ As he speaks, he reaches into his bag yet again to produce a small black case containing his testing kit. ]
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How far has the university tested "expectations"?
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He gets over it fast though, and the actual application of the tests is quick and clinical. For all his faults, he is a decent doctor and he and Rau have played through this song and dance often enough. ]
"Expectations" are collective, so I'm afraid simply expecting to make better medicines is nothing more than a mildly amusing joke. Nobody has reasoned out just how many Souls need to share a belief in order for it to take physical shape here, but just one or two people do not account for notable changes in reality.
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But a collective can be mistaken or manipulated, or both.
[ His free hand flicks to the newspaper. ]
If enough souls hear and think Niesha cannot protect us, does she lose some power?
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[ Nobody is losing any literal magic, of course, but so much of politics is having people believe you're capable of following through on your promises. It's not as on the nose as the power of expectations, but Gil thinks it'd be a mistake to call that kind of effect intangible.
He's smiling like this is all some private joke, because really... It kind of is. Rau has never seen him in his function as propaganda king, but Gil is still quite proud of himself. ]
Attempting to weaken Niesha comes dangerously close to biting the hand that feeds, of course. Given our precarious state of existence, I'd urge to have a plan for redirecting that hypothetical power elsewhere.
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You're too attached to existence to put her power to the test?
[ For all that Rau is himself attached to existence-after-death, he would be willing to take some calculated risks to learn how to pull the levers of the universe. ]
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I didn't say that - just that I'd like for the risk to be calculated. Besides, isn't it a waste to weaken one powerbase without strengthening another?
[ ... actually...... ]
Don't answer that, I know you love your violent anarchy.
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Not just me.
[ He was giving humanity exactly what it wanted in terms of world-ending hyper-violence. ]
One could test the opposite, at least in theory -- "Niesha can protect us," "Niesha can keep Nemesis at bay." But reassuring a city would be more difficult than stirring up panic.
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[ Niesha can handle her own PR, he's not touching that nightmare with a ten foot pole, thank you very much. ]
What I am wondering is if there is a limit to what 'expectations' can influence. Is it just this world, Niesha and the wraiths? Things that belong her? Or would it be possible to siphon power for yourself, as a Soul that came here from a different world?
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[ He tilts his wrist as he says it, emphasizing the little test scratches by way of illustration. But. Talking politics and power is stirring up curiosity that he's been keeping in check since Gil told him on the train about taking control of the PLANTs and the Alliance. Rau knows Gil as a researcher, but Gil as a political force is mostly a matter of informed guesswork. This could be a decent time to needle more information out of him about it. ]
Though you’ll want to find somewhere -- [ he relaxes his wrist, deliberately brushing his hand against Gil’s fingers with the tiny movement ] -- to “redirect that hypothetical power” first. To be safe, that is.
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When he then leans back and focuses his eyes on Rau's face again, he once again feels the strange difference of time between them. ]
If I told you I want that power for myself, you'd have every right to scold me for having learned nothing.
[ He has learned nothing. ]
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[ Rau's voice is still light and lazy, but a forced quality starts to creep in at the very edges of the words, and he reaches out to place a hand over Gil's chest for a beat. Rau isn't bothered by wanting power -- playing god is only human. But if Gil hasn't learned anything from Rey choosing to shoot him in the chest over "destiny," then Rau is kicking him out in the snow without his coat. ]
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Not enough.
[ The blank melts away into a thin smile, melancholy and self-ironic. ]
I'll leave the living to the living, and I'm certainly not planning to make an afterlife that would make Rey sad.
[ He is still waiting for him, thinking he might arrive on the next train. What kind of expression would he greet him with? It's difficult to imagine. ]
But I'm myself, and I cannot let an imperfect world remain as is. This afterlife isn't sustainable - you know it, I know it, and surely so does Niesha.
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Perhaps it doesn’t want to be sustained.
[ But there’s no heat to the words. For all that the ever-increasing ghost and monster population shows that Requiem is unsustainable, souls really aren’t as self-destructive as living humans of the Cosmic Era, and this place hasn’t quite stirred up Rau’s inclinations to facilitate mass destruction yet.
And speaking of wrong answers -- well, a destroyed Requiem wouldn’t have much of a “tomorrow.” ]
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Rey wanted tomorrow, uncertain and imperfect. It's that wish that brought Gil here, and he should at least try to honor it.
So Gil won't argue the point of wanting. Instead, he asks a simpler question. ]
Do you want it to disappear? To disappear alongside it?
[ Rey is Rau and Rau is Rey, in essence but not in execution. Their desires are different, the way they feel about Gil and Gil feels about them is different. How different are their answers?
How much or little has death changed Rau from the beast clinging to existence for its own destructive purposes, vibrant and mesmerizing in just how alive it feels? ]