Dayshift 62: Sun Room [Third Shift]

[avengingfists]

Last night had been a nightmare. That had to be what it was, but Ilia couldn't deny reality. In her anguish, Ilia had slept through the first half of the day plagued by nightmares. In her dreams she saw Rose's broken body all over again with Gamzee standing over her, his club raised to strike again. Somewhere, she could hear Martin Landel laughing.

Much like the battle last night, Ilia was overcome by her powerlessness. Was she really so useless? Why did it have to be the children who suffered pain and death? Why was she left alive here? She didn't wish for her own death, but if she could have given up her life to save Rose... But nothing could be done now

Ilia had failed to save an ally in need. If only her Captain could have been here, then just maybe his uncanny luck and drive might have saved them. He had a miraculous touch that could solve anything. Ilia now understood why she would never be on equal footing with him.

Miserably, Ilia roused herself at her nurse's insistence that she come eat. She didn't take a moment to brush her hair or wash her face. She just followed along as directed, trying to ignore the hallow feeling in her chest. Ilia wasn't hungry, but she took one of the bags offered to her and trudged to the bulletin. She addressed a few notes then added one herself. It wasn't the prettiest note, but Ilia couldn't produce the level of prose that Rose deserved. Instead, she wrote it quickly, like ripping off a band-aid. Short. To the point.

Her task done, Ilia found seat in the corner and sunk down into the cushion. Burying her face in her hands, she concentrated on breathing. She couldn't face the sun today.

[For her children Claude and Anise]

Comments

[atrabilis]

How?

It was so strange to hear the disbelief, the lingering scent of doubt. Nigredo remembered Klavier in the question, and though this entity lacked the human's extremes, the effect remained. Nigredo felt afraid, and it showed in the pallor of his flushed skin and the absence in his eyes. He feared for reasons having nothing to do with an offended Reploid and everything to do with an existence that shouldn't be.

That was what he was, was it not? The ways and methods that composed Nigredo were entirely wrong. Of course, a weapon should never be in the form of a child. They should have conceived them to an age when ethics mattered to no one, should have bestowed numbers instead of identities, should have broken apart their fragile bonds-- They should have taken the knife away so Nigredo could never dream of hurting them.

Yet, here was his reality. Whether or not another approved, he had nothing else. Thus, unlike before, Nigredo did not shy away. He did not apologize for what he was, even as he understood how much he owed others for simply breathing.

The child spoke quietly, calm despite the strain pulsing underneath. "...It's not normal. Not in the slightest." Not where it mattered, Nigredo supposed. He stifled a shudder and angled his eyes upward to meet Zero's. "But it is what they decided. I can't do anything about that."

[dividedby]

Although he still didn't care whether this topic was too intrusive or not, Zero was at least aware that his opinion had bothered the boy in some way. Nigredo didn't need to say anything out loud to show that he was bothered; his expression was proof enough. Somewhat subtle proof, but still proof nonetheless.

However... Whether he was aware of this reaction or not, it wouldn't change the once-Reploid's opinion at all. He didn't blame Nigredo for being what he was...it wasn't like he had a choice in a matter. No, the blame rested solely on his human creators; they were the ones Zero couldn't forgive. There was no reason he could think of that could ever justify creating a weapon in the form of something so innocent. No reason whatsoever.

"I can't understand that." ...Well. Actually, no. That wasn't completely true. He could partially understand it. It wasn't that hard to believe that certain humans could be so careless and cold toward their own kind... Monsters could be born in any form. But as far as this conversation was concerned, Zero refused to understand the concept. "...No. It's your creators I don't understand. I know you had nothing to do with it... But I don't understand the reasoning at all."

sorry for the lateness!

[atrabilis]

A saner self might have justified the reasons his creators set forth. He might have established an explanation that allowed for the U.R.T.V. to have their place in understanding. The purpose, however, was lacking, and this Nigredo found himself coming up short in desires. Anything said would reek of overcompensation, and Zero...

He touched on things buried deep beneath the surface, past the rationale and the ego's prejudices, to where Nigredo kept his quiet wants. Of how they never should have existed.

Therefore, Nigredo abandoned the strain, instead taking up a bland approach. He murmured a noncommittal noise, wondering what should be done next. They should move on. From this, they should consider less damning concepts. "Did you have any other questions about us?" he asked softly.

no worries!

[dividedby]

Zero refused to answer the boy's question at first, preferring instead to stare a little hard at him. He did not blame Nigredo for feeling uncomfortable, or for trying to switch subjects if the current one was bothering him. But just because Zero didn't fault him for those things didn't mean he really cared that this was making Nigredo feel that way. He was too busy trying to understand this reasoning, the apparent careless reasoning of humanity in the future. If all humans were going to become heartless enough to be fine with using biological weapons in the form of their children, if public opinion had changed so much, or if Nigredo's creators were only a select few and most humans hadn't changed at all...

...But as much as he wanted to understand, Zero wouldn't continue this. Nor would he continue to ask questions in general. Not that he didn't have any - there were countless things he could ask - but Nigredo's response made the once-Reploid recognize that pushing the topic further, against the boy's wishes, would not be the right (or smart) thing to do.

"...No," he answered at last, continuing to stare. No, not right now. Some other time, he would continue to question and understand. But for the moment, he was done.