synflux | closed.

[ The lingering sting in his eyes tells Elan that what he's seeing is an effect of the implant glitching. It explains how can he suddenly be here, looking down the span of a fancy opera house that for some reason is hosting the trial of a boy... named Wriothesley. His expression furrows listening to the hushed rumors and accusations. ]

He really wasn't kidding...

[ Is everyone seated already? It might be conspicuous if, at the last minute when order is called, he slipped towards the front row of the theater to get a better look, but either way, that's what he's doing. ]

[ Everyone is, in fact, already seated, and the weaving of Elan's slender body through the row of seats towards the front garners him no small amount of attention: another flurry of whispers from the audience, a brief glance of disinterest from Wriothesley, and a perplexed look from the judge Neuvillette himself. ]

Is there something you'd like to say, Mister…?

[ He doesn't sound particularly irate at the disturbance, just resigned, as if this sort of thing happens all the time during trials. (Unfortunately, it does.) ]

[ Elan's aware of the eyes on him as he steps forward, but the only person's attention he wants to catch is Wriothesley's. The boy looks worse for the wear up close, the look in his eyes void of light, no sign that he recognizes him in his reaction.

He smiles pleasantly at the judge, opening his mouth to say...what should he say to him? He's sure it'll go over well if he told them they're all part of a weird wormdream he's viscerally experiencing. So, uhhh..... ]

......I'm his lawyer! May I have a word with him?

[ What is this stupidity he's blurting out. ]

His...lawyer.

[ Press (x) to doubt. But despite the doubt that drips off those two words, the blue-robed judge seems to give the request an adequate amount of thought before waving one meticulously gloved hand towards where Wriothesley stands. ]

Very well, but please make it quick. There are quite a number of trials scheduled for today.

[ Congrats to Elan for being free to move forward once more, although it doesn't seem like Wriothesley's looking forward to discussing anything with his newfound lawyer friend, still standing silently and listlessly. Looks like Elan is gonna have to take the lead here. ]

[ That worked?

He's baffled, but he takes the chance he's gotten to step onto the stage. Where is the real lawyer, anyway? Elan takes Wriothesley aside, whispering urgently. ]

I'll be honest, I'm not your lawyer but you already know that. Do you remember me? The kaiju? Sandstorms?

[ He must sound like a madman ranting right now. Wriothesley doesn't even look well, and of course. Who would be well in his position? If the accusations are true...there had to have been some reason. ]

[ Imagine getting a lawyer for a homeless kid off the street who's just committed patricide. Ain't no one got time for that.

And Elan absolutely sounds like a madman, the inane words causing Wriothesley to look over, a little life flaring back into his eyes at the babbling, his brows pulling deeply together in confusion as he tries and fails to make sense of what's being said. Is this guy from Sumeru? Is he just here for a laugh?

Eventually, he dismisses it all as some sort of terrible prank and turns away. Sorry Elan, please try again later. ]

...and you have no idea what I'm saying. Nevermind.

[ Alright, trying to snap him out of it clearly isn't working. If he makes a scene (any more than he has already) it might make things worse for the Wriothesley in the mirage. If what he's seeing is the past, the outcome has long been decided anyway. He's only delaying the inevitable.

Now he's at a loss. Leaving the kid alone to the court doesn't feel quite right, but what else is there to do. ]

Hang in there. When we meet in the future, tell me your side of the story then.

[ With that, he stalks back to his seat disgruntled, gritting out an apology to the judge for his earlier theatrics. ]

There was something I had to say to him. Sorry for the disturbance.

[ There's no reply to Elan's apology, either from Wriothesley or the judge, who simply turns his attention back to the trial now beginning.

Despite the somewhat sensational nature of the case - here stands the defendant, Wriothesley, accused of the murder of two people - Neuvillette's voice remains even and unaffected. What details there are are listed out, including the time and place of death, as well the cause (nighttime in the family home, the woman succumbing to puncture wounds in the neck while the man died of multiple lacerations and stab wounds across his arms and chest). A few other details are tacked on, a brief nod to the relationship of the fallen man and woman - his foster parents - as well as a brief look at Wriothesley's background - an abandoned infant picked up on the streets. ]

Are there any questions before we ask the defendant to present his recounting of the event?

[ Elan has many questions, the big one being what Wriothesley's relationship with his foster parents was like, but he's going to sit his ass down and let the proceedings continue because screwing around wasn't helping before. When the kid is called on, he leans forward in his chair. ]

[ Whether or not Elan manages to glean any answers depends entirely on the types of answers he's looking for.

Wriothesley's statement is surprisingly clear for a teenager still half-wrapped in bandages. There's a newfound conviction in his eyes when he finally begins to speak, voice even and clear despite all the accusations being leveled at him. He confesses to his crimes readily, sparing no detail on the gruesome demise of the two people he'd once called Mother and Father. A premeditated act, years in the making, one that he'd apparently do all over again if given the chance.

The crowd bursts into another uproar at that admittance, said without a trace of remorse or regret. Somehow though, no one seems to be questioning the still concealed motive, too busy gossiping over the fact that there seems to be some sort of child psychopath in their midst. ]

[ Come on, kid. Elan feels increasingly on edge listening to the testimony. He's getting the sense that either someone put Wriothesley up to this or Wriothesley doesn't want out of his charges at all, because that's a crappy defense if he ever heard one. Doesn't he know how to lie?

What's more, nobody cares to ask this kid why he did it. If his parents were assholes, he should just say it. If Elan knew he'd be like this, he would've shaken him harder earlier. ]

[ Nobody cares enough to ask and nobody does ask, more concerned (and in some cases, delighted) with the spectacle of the whole thing than with apparently seeing a teenager be properly accused. Even Neuvillette on his stage says nothing, though as the arbitor of fairness and impartiality, perhaps he doesn't have the room to say anything.

Eventually, after some murmured discussion, the verdict is handled down: guilty on all charges, with a sentence of over ten years in the Fortress of Meropide. The ruling doesn't seem to faze Wriothesley at all, who looks straight ahead and marches towards the guard in charge of escorting him away.

It's there the dream fizzles out, the heavy atmosphere of the courtroom fading away...though maybe after all that talk about murder, the atmosphere in the present is just as heavy.

Sorry for making Elan sit through all of that, he's free now. ]

[ Now he gets why they're using a stage for a courtroom, because this trial is as good as a circus. There's clearly more to the story, anyone can see the kid's in no mental state to be taking the stand. It's like they'd already decided the verdict before the trial began.

Elan stands up to...go to him? He's not sure, but the memory begins to dissolve before he can make up his mind. He may not have made it to Wriothesley while he's being escorted away, but he certainly can question the Wriothesley of the present left in the room with him. After a heavy pause taken to reorient himself, he breaks the silence. ]

Was that the truth?

[ Back in the present, Wriothesley looks....well, he looks a lot more alive than the Wriothesley of the past had, even if the recounting of that sham of a trial has his expression a little pinched. Really, but the implants seem to want to drag out his worst moments for everyone to see. What a breach of privacy.

He sighs, rolling one shoulder as if to stretch it. ]

That I murdered my parents? Yes. Did you think I was lying when I said I'd killed before?

[ There's a slight lilt to the end of that question, almost like he's cracking some sort of joke, but he looks dead serious about this whole thing. ]

[ Elan rubs at his temples, walking a few paces to peer out the window and check that Vegas is as they had left it before the illusion. These ocular implants are shitty, invasive devices that he'll be salty about later, but for now his attention remains on what he just witnessed.

Anyone would want to think someone admitting to murder had better be joking, but no, he believes what Wriothesley confessed to was true. He's certain that's not the whole picture though. ]

There's got to be more to it. Why did you do it?

[ He's still looking out the window instead of at Wriothesley if that makes the confrontation any less uncomfortable. ]

[ Why.....Always it boils down to why. But it makes sense. Most people have a tendency to want to understand, to dig towards the root of a matter. And then when things don't make sense, they twist themselves into coming up with absurd theories that fit the events they've witnessed.

He'll save Elan the twisting part, at least. ]

Because they used me. [ He says it simply, following Elan's gaze out the window. ] Because I - and my siblings - were nothing more than livestock to them, to be raised and sold to the highest bidder. And then, if we didn't sell, they found a way to get rid of us.

[ His voice is terribly dispassionate, devoid of emotion. It's a tone of voice more appropriate for a dry university lecture than a talk about child trafficking. ]

[ Elan keeps his own reaction in check, save for a glance over in shock because what the hell. Given his condition at the trial Elan could've guessed Wriothesley's foster parents were abusive, but this is a whole other level of fucked up. Parents treating their own kids like disposable livestock...He's met some despicable people but these two so-called parents are gunning for worst. He crosses his arms, fingers digging into his skin. ]

You should have said something to the judge. Why cover for those assholes?

[ He gets that adults are pretty useless. It shouldn't have been Wriothesley's job to defend himself, or to take matters into his own hands in the first place, but sometimes that's the hand you're dealt. ]

[ Another good question. With enough waterworks, enough pleading, enough time, he probably could have convinced both judge and jury. Then he could have lived a free life and ended up in a vastly different place than he had. ]

Under the law, everyone has a right to a fair trial, regardless of whether their crime was a stolen loaf of bread or the murder of hundreds. I should have reported them to the authorities.

[ Should have but even at the tender age of way too young, he'd known better than to place his faith in a judicial system that freely allowed kids to struggle on the street while those with money and power continued to cling onto their cushy lives protected from the law. The law is supposed to be fair and just, but in Fontaine it's become a mockery of what it should have been. ]

At the end of the day, what I did was still murder. [ 'Cool motive, still murder.' ] Who knows, maybe if they'd been given a fair trial, a proper sentence, and enough time, they would have come to repent for what they'd done. [ He glances over at Elan. ] Don't get me wrong, I don't regret what I did, but I didn't want to be like them, taking lives without receiving due punishment.

[ And so: prison. ]

It's only a fair trial if you get to say your piece. Looked to me like you got the short end of the stick. Besides, who are they to judge when they haven't been in the situation themselves.

[ Right and wrong aren't so clear cut even if the law determines someone guilty or not. People in desperate situations do desperate things. In that sense, he can understand where Wriothesley is coming from. Elan's not exactly proud of the person he's been in the past, either. Maybe there were other, better choices they could have made, but he doesn't want to hear it from anyone who hasn't gone through it. It's easy to say when it's not your future being threatened and it feels like there are no other options left. ]

[ Despite the gravity of the situation - and the memory they'd both had to sit through - Wriothesley can't help but smile a little. Not very many people have ever come to his defense, largely because he's never given anyone a reason to, but he has to admit that it's a nice feeling all the same. ]

Maybe, but there's nothing that be done now to change what's already happened. [ All things considered, he's not sure if he would change anything that happened regardless. ] Besides, I turned out okay, didn't I?

[ This is such a loaded question. ]

Compared to others? I'll give you props.

[ Wriothesley gets credit where credit's due for being one of the more normal-passing people around. He could have turned into yet another shitty adult, there was certainly no shortage of them in that memory. However, if we're talking okay, don't think Elan hasn't noticed the way he trivializes the horror of what he went through. ]

The real question is whether there's a single one of us who's okay.

[ That's also a loaded question. Maybe we don't get into that. ]

Edited 2024-07-19 06:56 (UTC)

[ Look, it's fine, his coping mechanisms are completely normal and healthy? It's completely normal to trivialize traumatic experiences and put on a carefree face.

At least Elan's not digging too much more into things, which he appreciates. ]

Somehow I doubt LILITH picked us for our mental and psychological stability.

[ People who are nice and normal probably aren't going to have a good time fighting giant monsters in a civilization on the verge of collapse. Just sayin'. ]

[ It's not like Elan can judge since he copes in the exact same way. Shhh, it's fine. ]

These glitches aren't making it any easier when we relive memories like that! If they're going to put stuff in us, they could at least test it properly.

[ He rubs his temples. He would have better mental health if technology that's been installed in his body did what it's supposed to, but Peil and LILITH prove scientists just shouldn't have that much power. ]

Speaking of, we should probably check on things.

closed.

no subject

no subject

I promise I'll sit him down

no subject

no subject

no subject

1/2

2/2

cw: brief mentions of violence and gore

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

we can probably wrap this one up?