Conversation Space II.

[powersthatbe]

As Thorne shared with the network, Travelers who vanish find themselves alone in a small room. But it doesn’t look quite as described last time. Paper lanterns hang in the corners, and a lemniscate of live, spicily scented blue roses traces a figure eight on the floor. A little marble plinth sits beside the looping roses, with a champagne flute balanced on it, pink, fizzy liquid quietly effervescing within. In place of the throne that was there before, each half of the loop holds a brown leather sphere - a yoga meditation-ball chair. They’re a little tricky to balance on.


The walls, floors, and ceiling are tiled, a prismatic fade from one color to another, each tile unique, just slightly different in hue than those around it, each colored line giving a sense that it belongs to a bigger pattern, but never revealing enough to allow anyone certainty about what that pattern might be. It is only a glimpse of a larger world… in this small, quiet space.

Comments

[bite_the_hand]

Eren is on-edge from the moment he suddenly finds himself in the room. It's different from the way it was described before, but even so it's not hard to figure out what's happening. A quick attempt to contact his friends over the Network confirms it. Bristling, he spends a moment taking in the room. The roses are ignored, and he remains standing rather than try to sit on the weird cushions. The drink also goes ignored, since he doesn't trust his 'hosts' enough to eat or drink anything directly provided by them.

His scowl deepens with barely contained anger as he folds his arms and begins yelling at the seemingly-empty room.

"I know you're here! Show yourself!"

[swinglow]

Once Eren takes his eyes off the other loop of the lemniscate for a moment, when he looks back there'll be a bipedal steel horseman (horseperson?) sitting on the opposite meditation ball. The torso and the too-many-jointed fingers are human-like, at least, but the hooves below and head and neck above are distinctly equine.

It has its arms crossed in front of it too.

[bite_the_hand]

What, they're just going to teleport in? Asshole move, but it doesn't really phase him. There's the slightest raise of an eyebrow at the newcomer's appearance, but otherwise he doesn't comment on it. (If the situation was less serious he'd have been tempted to joke that they must have been looking for Jean instead, but this is neither the time nor the place for that.)

"So who the hell are you? And what do you want with me?" Blunt and to the point, without wasting time on niceties. Eren's still tensed like he's itching for a fight, but manages to control himself. ...For now.

[swinglow]

"Cairbre," the horseperson replies, in a voice that sounds like the thrumming of engines. "If you need a name. The Chariot or the Charioteer. It's all the same. You are one of mine."

[bite_the_hand]

Eren grinds his teeth at that last infuriating comment. "I'm nobody's but my own! The only ones that can claim me are the ones I've willingly given myself to, and you sure as hell aren't one of them!"

[swinglow]

"All Travelers will be marked," Cairbre says. "Temperamentally, you are mine."

[bite_the_hand]

"Temperamentally your's? What the shit is that supposed to mean!? And what is it you're trying to do by marking all of us, anyway!?"

[swinglow]

"Exactly," Cairbre says. "You self-demonstrate. We are picking teams."

[bite_the_hand]

"That didn't answer either of my questions." His expression darkens. If they're picking teams, that implies a competition. And if the marked Travelers are their pawns... Eren uncrosses his arms, hands balling into fists at his sides. He turns slightly as a foot moves back, not quite into a fighting stance, but enough that he can brace himself and react quickly if need be. "Why do you need teams!? What do you want from us!?"

[swinglow]

"You do not pay attention. Action is preferred," Cairbre says. "You act for us."

[bite_the_hand]

"I DO NOT ACT FOR YOU!" After that shout, his tone changes to an angry growl. "And even if I was willing to work with you, how am I supposed to do that when you won't tell me what you want me to do!?"

[swinglow]

"Travelers act for us," Cairbre elaborates. "When we cannot."

[bite_the_hand]

At this point his fists are clenched so tightly they're shaking. "That still doesn't tell me what you want from me! Fine! But you could at least tell me why you're treating us this way! Why do all of you keep hurting my friends!?"

[swinglow]

Cairbre blinks slowly at Eren. "Howso?" The thrumming engine of its voice sounds honestly curious.

[bite_the_hand]

Eren's fingernails dig into his palms and blood begins to drip slowly from his fists. Somewhat oddly, no steam comes from the wounds, at least not yet. Perhaps because Eren honestly doesn't seem to notice the small wounds he's accidentally inflicting on himself. His voice becomes more quiet but also takes on a dangerous edge, and doesn't lose any force from the drop in volume. Right now it's taking every last shred of his self-control to stop himself from flying into a violent rage.

"How can you ask me that!? You've taken our freedom! You turn us into other people who do horrible things we're helpless to stop and forced to remember doing! You bring us our friends and loved ones only to take them away again! Fuck, how can you leave us to be tortured to death over and over again until we kill our own, and then ask me how you're hurting us!?"

He's heard about Moebius. Heard about it from someone who'd been put through it; someone who just happens to be his best friend. Armin had quite recently asked him what the Trumps could do to him that they haven't already done. That alone would make it impossible for him to ever forgive the Trumps' actions. Taken with everything else? What they've also done to Mikasa and Jean and Thorne and everyone? With the way his and everyone else's freedom has been taken from them and is taken all over again every time they Infiltrate? It is far, far too late for an understanding to be found.

[swinglow]

Another slow blink as the horseperson slowly bounces on the meditation ball. "Not all of our actions were taken together. Some of that I did not personally do."

Chariot's head dips downward

"Even so, I am sorry."

[bite_the_hand]

The apology catches him off guard. He becomes slightly less tense - but only slightly. Still ready for a fight but it's a step towards disarming him at least.

He's quiet for a long moment, and when he finally speaks the sharp edge is gone from his voice; at least for the moment. However the accusatory tone is still very much there. "But you're all working together, aren't you? Even if you didn't do it yourself, you were complicit with it!"

[swinglow]

"Traveling together," the Chariot corrects. "Synodiporia. Playing together. Not working together. Working sometimes to opposite ends. Jaunt choices, winning terms, not always unanimously decided. At time, infighting. By no means united."

There is a brief pause as the Chariot thoughtfully bounces.

"Did not stop these things," it admits.

[bite_the_hand]

And the moment of relative calm is gone as quickly as it came. "Playing together!? So everything you've put me and my friends through is just a game to you!?"

[swinglow]

"More than just a game." The Chariot seems to be struggling for words. "Synodiporia," it says finally with a huff.

[bite_the_hand]

"What the shit does that even mean!? If it's not a game, what do you get out of it!?"

[swinglow]

"Walking together. Fellow travelers. For the chance of The World. Weight. Meaning. Power. Primacy. Possibility. The World."

[bite_the_hand]

"Stop speaking in riddles! I still don't-! Fine! Fuck it! Just tell me why you didn't stop the others! And give me a straight answer this time, dammit!"

[swinglow]

The Chariot bounces slow and thoughtfully before it finally answers.

"Wished to avoid casualties," it says finally.

[bite_the_hand]

"So you avoided those casualties by torturing my friends!? Just because you can bring us back to life doesn't mean being killed doesn't effect us!"