[ 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}
no subject
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.
no subject
[ 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?
no subject
[ 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.
no subject
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. ]
no subject
[ 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. ]
no subject
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.
no subject
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.” ]
no subject
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? ]