savetheearth | Entry #A-4: "Ante" [February 21, Text]

Entry #A-4: "Ante" [February 21, Text]

Though the police and the Blood Keys obviously represent a threat to many numbered individuals, I have a question about organized religion, and what pulses might mean when framed within certain philosophical contexts. No matter how natural it might feel, if there really is another being nudging its way into an existing consciousness, changing a person's aptitudes, physical attributes and even their personality... there have to be at least a few churches that would consider that demonic possession, right? Has anyone tried to reconcile what's happening with influential religious practices, and do we have any resources for assisting anyone who might wind up the subject of an attempted exorcism? Those still happen today, they can be extremely dangerous, and I'm concerned about the possibility of frightened numbered people seeking out such assistance, or being subjected to it by their families and communities. Thinking you're crazy is one thing, but sincerely believing that the devil is wielding you as an instrument is another entirely. Probably not something that the FAQ page can successfully assuage, for the most tenaciously convinced.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Before-hand? Before what? Your echoes?

Yes.

[Ah. His brevity can't be ignored, but L thinks he might actually want to talk about this.]

Theology, angels, the devil... it must be confusing to echo such things. I can't say I've experienced it. What is it like?

[Xander isn't exactly fond of talking about himself or the person he's becoming. Most of the echoes he's received involved people who looked and sounded like his father and his deceased twin brother.]

It's complicated to explain.

[Like having a 'second skin' that appears when he's badly injured, being able to disappear in to shadows and take another person with him, unable to control personality traits he's never had before, or even stating that his other self rescued an embodiment of death was hard to explain from a very brief memory.]

Edited 2014-02-24 06:29 (UTC)

Compicated doesn't actually scare me.

I rather not discuss it on here.

[He was a private man and swore to refrain from divulging in to things that hit too close to home on the network. Then again, he wasn't too great about talking about it in person either. Yet, his response made it seem like an invitation to talk face to face.]

Fair enough. I can absolutely respect that. So... when and where?

[Sounded a lot like an invitation bro.]

[That question was inevitable. Where would be a place that wasn't too private and not too public?]

The park, possibly in an hour?

The one near that old bookstore? Yes, that's more than acceptable. Look for someone with dark hair and a grey coat.

[He, too, would have insisted upon a place that was exactly the right balance of private and public.

An hour later, should Xander go to the park, the man matching the sparse description the closest is more than a little worrisome. Not because he looks dangerous, but because he looks like he's in danger. His dark hair is uncombed, his grey coat hangs off his stick-thin frame, and his huge, hungry saucer-eyes look like they're eating up his face. He looks downright brittle.

Since he expects someone, he appears alert enough, if on the verge of tipping over due to exhaustion.]

Edited 2014-02-25 04:46 (UTC)

[He doesn't respond to the text message, not bothering to protest that several other people could have the same hair color and coat. At least there wouldn't be too many people out at this time.

About an hour later, Xander appears at their agreed place of meeting. He was wearing a dark coat, a black & white scarf and a pair of gloves that were holding a cigarette. It was nearly done with and he wouldn't hesitate to extinguish the butt with a container. He was looking around the park for the description he was left with.]

[Of everyone there, L was really the only one who so starkly matched the description he'd given. Though Xander had given none of himself, L recalled his appearance from the meeting, and was able to link it to his number.]

Aren't you worried about getting ash on your gloves? It's a dirty habit.

[L is a little more... charming online, than he is in person.]

[At being addressed, he quickly takes one more inhale of the cigarette before putting it out in a container with a shake of his head. Instead of answering right away, he turns his head away to blow out the smoke away from anyone.]

No, I don't.

[His tone is rather bland, no emotion behind them and his expression is rather neutral, except for the line his lips were making.]

I take it you're the one I agreed to talk to?

[It's definitely the guy from the meeting. L gives a stiff nod. At least he's a polite smoker.]

I would be, yes. I'm glad I'm not the only one who's reluctant to share certain things over a system we still don't know enough about.

[He gives a nod in return before putting the canister away and brushing his gloves to remove the ash that coated his fingertips. Lazarus' response was enough to tell him that this was the person he agreed to meet and talk to, even if he was regretting saying anything that lead to an open invitation.]

Of course.

[Although the private function was quite handy, but still, he could understand the level of distrust with a foreign system that was claimed to be created by aliens.]

I guess we should get introductions out of the way or would you prefer to remain anonymous?

[L has done this a few times, by now; carried an interaction from the network to real life, and he feels exactly like he's risking his neck every time. So far nothing bad has happened. So far. He's been very lucky.]

I'm Lazarus Lawliet. On the network, it is simply "L."

[He doesn't offer a hand to shake; they remain in his pockets, but his eyes remain fixed on the other man's recently-ashy gloves.]

[Xander was getting used to meeting network members like this and wasn't exactly worried about being found out. His concern was mainly on controlling his thoughts that would occasionally slip to a darker place if provoked or threatened.]

Xander. It's nice to meet you "L".

[There was a reason why he excluded his last name, so no one could do a background check on him, but he wouldn't be surprised if the other man thought his name was an alias. He wasn't offended when Lazarus didn't want to shake hands, he knew that the smell of cigarettes could be off putting.]

Would you prefer walking around as we talk or staying in one place?

[There might have been a flicker of concern in his voice and expression at the offer, unsure if the other man would be able to keep up with him.]

[If Xander was worried about the darker places his mind could go, that made two of them.

Not that L was a fallen angel, or a servant of a dark one; he was just a scrawny young man who was too smart for his own good.]

Likewise. Whichever you'd prefer...

[He sounds uncertain, maybe even slightly frigid, regarding the concern in Xander's voice. He knows he looks like hell, but he can walk.]

...walking is fine.

[He's silent as he waits for a response before nodding and takes a few steps forward.

Now, how could he break the ice without exposing too much about himself? The last time he did this, was with an Alex who could shape-shift and they discussed matters through a code involving a character from a book. That could work again and hopefully Lazarus would pick up quickly.

With a sigh, he starts to speak.]

...This character and what he's endured isn't very pleasant.

[Lazarus quirks a brow, falling into step beside Xander as the other man starts speaking. In the third person, about a character from a book. It's odd, but not incomprehensible. Some people might have difficulty talking about the person they supposedly were as being directly connected to themselves.]

What is this character's archetype? Or set of archetypes, if you prefer. He sounds complex.

[A chuckle escapes him at Lazarus' comment about being complex, but quickly brings a hand up to muffle himself. He didn't know why he wanted to laugh, but he did. Once he was in control, he brought down his hand and muttered a quick apology.]

Sorry, I'm not laughing at you. It's a bit of a... tic.

[Hopefully that would be enough to cover that. Although, he wouldn't be surprised if L didn't believe him. As for that question, he falls silent and tries to figure out what to classify his other self as.]

...At one point, he was a "hero" and something happened to make him "rebel".

[An understatement, perhaps, but L is prone to testing the waters rather than just diving right in. Especially where delicate matters are concerned, and he gets the feeling that this man's previous self falls into that spectrum.

He also understands tics, and wonders if this guy has ever been through any attempts at "correcting" them.]

So, his world was turned upside-down. That's a good setup. If he was really a hero, his reasons would have transcended law in terms of morals, wouldn't they?

[Lazarus wouldn't be too far from the truth. Xandaer prefers to not mention anything involving his family and their counter-parts that his other self knows. It was too painful for him to think about it.

The chuckling wasn't his only tic. In fact, his hands started to move on their own, tapping out a small tune on his leg as they walked. Talking to people caused his hands to become rather restless, but he would like to avoid having another incident of snapping his fingers and causing a flame to appear. He didn't want to burn more of his fingers, thank you very much.]

Yes. Except, I think his morals are gone completely due to an incident.

[He's not exactly sure when that happened since he was still missing several details about that point.]

Edited 2014-02-27 05:13 (UTC)

[It is his gift and his curse, but Lazarus seldom is very far from the truth. His eyes rest for a few moments on Xander's fingers as they drum out their rhythm sans music.]

That's a broad and serious claim. Morals are arguably what makes a person human. I question what kind of accident could be responsible for something so dire.

[An invitation to continue, if there ever was one, but L is treading cautiously.]

He's not human.

["I'm not human anymore either" was a thought that came to mind, but he refrained from saying it. His lips twisted in to a frown as he tries not to recall a horrible foreign memory that involved his other self being tortured. Luckily, it was replaced with a somewhat better memory, one involving a look-a-like of his father, but it included a threat of death for both sides. A warning that things could end up like that if his father was to become one of the numbered.]

...I don't know what it is, but it is enough to cause his allies to become wary of him.

[It elicited the response L was after, confirmation that this person's past self was not, in fact, human. The detective suspected that he would have said so if he'd simply asked, but speaking about it in the third person was established as a comfort. L preferred not to disrupt it, if possible.

That leaves the question, though... were the wary allies in the past, or the present? After the initial post this man made, L thought it was likely he at least perceived that he was losing friends.]

How had his fleeing morals manifested? It usually takes a serious breach of trust or a very wild change in behavior for a serious alliance to shift.

Entry #A-4: "Ante" [February 21, Text]

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