(where the bus is parked! outside! so, no, it wasn't intentional at all, because dante doesn't care nearly as much about what decisions or mistakes the sinners make outside of their shared transportation (and living space), but they would suppose to see the irony if it was pointed out to them.
hong lu is leaning against mephistopheles' door when the bus comes within sight. dante hastens their pace, raising one gloved hand to greet the sinner as they come within range. )
< Hello, Hong Lu. >
( they didn't have to walk from very far, so they're not feeling very tired right now, but... if the quest for this regal pizza takes as long as they're beginning to fear it might, it might be a very long day. )
< Do you have an idea of where we can start our search? That, or... I guess we could just choose a direction and start looking. >
[ his words come as a sing-song, playfully sung to copy the audible ticking dante makes. as entertaining as it is to talk about, he's pushing himself off from the door so he can close the distance between him and his manager. ]
I have a map of the district we're in, so we can check every pizza parlor.
[ he pulls a thin piece of paper from his pocket, unrolling it like a treasure scroll as he searches for the "x" that marks the spot. memorizing a few of the backstreets and alleyways, he turns it around to show to dante. his finger taps against a "you are here" that he had written in while waiting for the other to arrive. there's even a cutely drawn bus there too, just so they can remember where they parked. ]
Do you think the guy we helped could tell us the place his mother would visit, maybe?
( ...is someone tick-tocking at him a microaggression? food for thought.
regardless, dante doesn't really mind; they have to adjust their line of sight upwards slightly to maintain what passes for "eye contact" for them. )
< Oh. >
( they can't help but be surprised as they inspect the map that hong lu produces. how prepared? how forward-thinking? it's not something they would typically expect of him, but they end up chiding themself for such an assumption. it's not as though they've known any of the sinners for very long — they're certain they will continue to surprise them. )
< Good thinking! I'm sure this will be very helpful. > ( dante accents their compliment with a pleasant ding! sound. ) < Hm... We could certainly try. I'm not sure the same pizza place his mother might have liked to order from would serve this kingly pizza you're after, but he might have an idea of where it might be found instead. >
[ never... he tick-tocks because you're the cutest ever dante, favorite doomsday clock!
as much as they can run around as headless chickens (hah!), the map only makes sure they aren't entirely lost, and also makes this like a treasure hunt which is just as fun. he may not know that dante probably thinks little of him, or has low expectations, but hong lu does everything with a purpose — sort of how like he sets heathcliff up for his back jokes just to have the other attack him, it's pretty funny to see him irritated.
oh, oh, the ding. that must mean he's done good, and to praise dante for giving him a ding, he's outstretches his arms to wrap around the other's neck, pressing the side of that clock-cheek against his own cheek with a grin. ]
Thank you for the praise ~
[ he's not against it, but he doesn't overstay his contact, and pulls away. ]
If that's the case, then we could make it ourselves. I could find out the recipe, I'm sure you're good at cooking.
[ or good at stopping hong lu from burning down the kitchen... which is probably more useful than cooking, but whatever. he's already starting to choose a path to walk down as he keeps a steady pace so that dante can catch up. ]
( "lucky" is certainly a word to use for it. and dante does believe they are lucky, because certainly their job would be even more difficult and their mission might very well be insurmountable if they didn't have vergilius' (admittedly stern) guidance. that having been said... they have seen enough of the Color's brutal martial expertise and harsh handling of the sinners to have what they think is a healthy respect and wariness of the man. a wariness that can sometimes bleed over into an animal-instinct fear in certain instances...
instances such as vergilius seemingly teleporting through space to appear before them; it's something that dante feels rather than sees, given their state, but it's enough to cause their stomach to lurch and the remaining hairs along the nape of their neck to stand on end.
the stabilizing hand does immediately arrest their forward movement, and they're able to regain their balance. their composure, however... a faint shudder passes through their body before they manage to get that back under control.
dante is still concerned they're going to get into more trouble over this, though that emotion is somewhat stymied by something mysterious they perceive on vergilius' face — is that the shape of a smile? is that more or less terrifying? regardless, they try to calm themself down, tick-tocking out a response that is, of course, not going to make its contents known to him. there is one curious thing about the manager's visage, however: rather than the clock-hands progressing in any normal, circular way, each tick or tock just has them stick in place with a slightly atypical accompanying chk sound.
they aren't really sure if they are drunk in the traditional sense (doesn't that have to do with alcohol in your bloodstream affecting your brain? do they still have a brain in there??) or in one unique to their current state (the alcohol in their head simply interfering with their senses), but in the end it doesn't matter. the result is alarmingly similar. dante steels themself before nodding sadly; they control the movement more this time, so they don't risk falling, but there is the loud sloshing of liquor.
next they point to vergilius, tilting their head (slowly and carefully) to one side before giving one questioning tock? what is his plan, now that he's here? )
[The ticks and tocks are lost to him, of course. No blessing of chains and connection was granted to him, nor was it ever wanted, but somehow, there's a sense of understanding from them he can't quite put into words. Body language, movement, the way the manager holds themself, it all somehow translates on its own to him. The details may be lost, but the gist? Still there and true.]
[Vergilius did say that they were the easiest to talk to on the bus, after all.]
[He notes the uneven bob in their head, complete with the sound of liquid moving in unseen compartments, and determines that yes, indeed, maintenance is in order. But not here. Not now.]
I'm taking you back. To open you up here would be asking for vulnerability.
[He may be capable of protecting their wayward, troublesome manager, but its not something he particularly wants to do. He shifts his grip very slightly, and before any form of proper warning is given, he lets out a "hup"-]
[And throws Dante over one shoulder as roughly as one would a bag of potatoes. For Vergilius, though, with his strength, Dante barely weighs a thing. His grip, now on the other's side, holds strong as he turns on his heel in the direction he came.]
I'll empty you out in the bus. I'll kick out those Sinners if I have to.
[He remembers Ishmael's "attempt" to help. He hardly wants a repeat of it.]
Edited 2023-04-24 03:51 (UTC)
it could have gone better, but at least it's over 😄
( with vergilius and charon, dante is certainly most aware of those nonverbal methods of communication; it's vital that they hold themself in the correct way and use them to the best of their ability, or else they risked being either misunderstood or completely conversationally impotent when one of the sinners wasn't around to (oftentimes loosely or incorrectly) interpret for them.
they do wonder often what vergilius had meant when he'd said that — they'd at first thought it was because, being unable to reply back and be understood, it just made them into a better listener. but that doesn't ring very true for the man, considering he's reticent even in his comparatively better moods... so maybe it instead has something to do with how dante can't be anything but guileless, given their circumstances?
perhaps they should just take the comment at face value and stop ruminating on it.
if they do have to open up their head in order to drain it, it does make sense to do so on the bus... even though dante is concerned about making a mess of the floor that is both their transportation and more often than not their sleeping quarters. but they have neither time nor chance to attempt to give their opinion on the matter before the arm around their waist tightens, and they are thrown unceremoniously over vergilius' shoulder. where someone might have gone oof at such a thing, dante instead makes a sort of ka-CHUNK sound; for just a moment they go stiff and weakly struggle against the iron grasp, out of more instinct than anything, but they give up the ghost fairly quickly and go completely limp in defeat.
though, as they make their way back to the bus, they do dolorously tick-tock to themself about the state they're in and how they don't want to be seen either like this or carried like this by the sinners, but... that's not really in their power anymore.
maybe they won't be there already... hopefully... )
Oh. You're a scientist then? I suppose I could trust it to you, then...
( everyone should trust luchino at all times )
No, I don't think I would be able to deal with more heat than normal. I'm already worried the heat might boil the alcohol and that would cause a problem?
( did they mention their head is basically on fire at all times, luchino? probably not, and maybe that's for the best, because dante couldn't explain it even if they wanted to. )
Straws, though... That's kind of funny, even if I would rather people not use my head as a cocktail mixer.
Well, now that you've gone out of your way unprompted to say that, I'm starting to feel a little worried...
( it's just maybe a little bit sus, luchino??
but dante is in quite a predicament, and they don't want to task it to the sinners or vergilius, so... they might as well believe in the good will of a stranger. )
Well... I won't say that I'm not afraid, but. I'm not going to let it stop me.
( there is perhaps a telling silence as gregor asks how they are and brings up vergilius. it seems his guesses landed fairly close to the truth... )
He was... very displeased... Both with you sinners' behavior and with my inability to control you properly... I don't believe anything was broken that we can't fix, but I'm afraid we probably won't be allowed to spend our free time at a bar like that for quite a while. Though, really, we have mostly the usual suspects to blame for that...
( relatively speaking, gregor had been one of the good ones once drunk. don quixote, heathcliff, rodion, and ryoshu, however... they had made things much more challenging for dante to deal with. sometimes they think it's too bad they can only rewind them back from death and not rewind all of the damage they can cause as well... )
Damn. Sorry, Manager Bud. I'll keep myself in check next time, at least? But that's probably a smart choice, to not let any of us near a bar. In general.
[Is Donki even old enough to drink? Not that he had been when he'd enlisted, so Gregor knows damn well he can't judge, but man...Man. It's like herding cats at the best of times, let alone with everyone sloshed and tottering about.]
If it makes you feel any better, I don't recall what your ass feels like or anything?
...Is that even reassuring? I'm not sure. Look, the point is that you always do your best, and the only reason Vergilius has success in calming everyone down is the fact that he's such a threat. But I like you as you are, personally. It's nice having a manager who's also my pal.
( she and sinclair are old enough to have their Fixer licenses and work for the Company, so they should be old enough to drink. that's the assumption that dante has been working beneath, at least... )
I do think you all deserve a reward for doing so well lately. Though... Yes, in the future, it probably won't have anything to do with alcohol.
( there is a pause which might have been filled with a surprised-sounding tock sound were they speaking in person, but gregor will just have to imagine it before dante manages a response. )
Well that's probably for the best I think considering our working relationship and all!!
( the easily-flustered clock needs a moment to regain their composure.
as happy as they are to hear such encouraging words from gregor, dante feels their situation is more complicated than that. vergilius and faust seem to have some sort of expectation of them, and they can sense the importance and gravity of their mission. they don't want to fail — they feel like they can't fail... as much as they want to be a friend to the sinners, they are here to be their manager, and they worry those two things can't always coexist perfectly. but still... )
Thank you, Gregor. I do think I need to improve at what I do, or else I might end up further endangering you all. But I will try not to change too much.
( they hope they don't change too much. if they ever managed to regain their head and their memories, would they end up becoming a worse person? )
To tell you the truth, though, I enjoyed seeing you relax and enjoy yourself last night.
[ legally, you are allowed to take digs at your sous-chef. ]
smokey, earthy... TANG. we can try a chip of you if not the whole thing, no?
[ admittedly, she's not keen on losing their auto-revivalist. not because she's scared of death by any measure, but because she can't experience a plethora of "art" without him. it's not a bad thing, getting sliced open or seeing her comrades in the same position... to her, anyway.
true art is hard to come by, and dante provides it.
But, hypothetically-speaking... If we could break off a chip of it, or a clock-hand or something, what on Earth would you do to it to make it palatable?
( call it morbid curiosity.
ryoshu is unsubtle enough about her proclivities and passions that dante would have a good understanding of why it is that she values them and what they contribute to the team. they may be the wrong reasons, but... considering how they feel many of the sinners take them and what they do to revive them for granted, they will still take the appreciation gladly. )
( it was not a mission for a Golden Bough, but it had still been a failure.
since the LCCB had been called in to settle the issue that had arisen between Bodhisattva Chicken and Eunbong's Bar and Fryers, which they'd found had resulted in the latter's owner becoming a Distortion, it had settled into an uncommon routine that the team aboard Mephistopheles would occasionally be dispatched to take care of other issues. dante has never been able to see any pattern among these missions, no real rhyme or reason for why they were called to handle it and not any of the dozens (if not hundreds) of other Fixer Offices and Associations in the City. they have to assume there's some sort of overarching plan to it... certainly it can't be that the Company is hurting for cash, given all of the resources that they've seen the other teams to have available to them?
even if vergilius pleads poverty whenever they too often suggest to stop somewhere and get food for the sinners, as a reward for a job well done.
there is certainly no reason for something like that this evening. even though dante had tried their best to direct the sinners (and the ensuing chaos had resulted in several of them dying and needing to be rewound), they hadn't been able to establish control of the situation. they had been called upon to retreat (as threat to the Executive Manager was getting a little too high to be acceptable to continue, or so the team that had come to retrieve them had claimed), and other groups that dante hadn't even recognized had stormed in to try to recover whatever they could from the mess left behind.
of course, dante feels like it's their fault. they sit quiet and defeated in their seat on the bus, shoulders bowed and otherwise unfocused. they can hear the sound of the door opening to the corridors beyond the back of the bus as the sinners quietly file away to their own quarters — they had released them from their duties for the rest of the evening before sitting. they assume that they will all retreat once given time to do so; there's no awkward jockeying for who might take first watch, as there are enough teams from other branches of the Company about outside that it was unnecessary.
they... will go to their own room at some point soon enough. for now, they just want to sit here and gather their thoughts. they go through the paths they had taken, the commands they had given, the choices they had made over and over, trying to figure out if there would have been a successful combination... and if it was even in their power to choose better the next time —
yes, they prefer to think through this here on the bus rather than inside the corridors and the rooms beyond. there's still something about them that unsettle dante ever-so-slightly. )
[ Meursault arrives at the front of his door. He stares at the familiar surface but does not go into the room. His eyes drift up to look through the window before turning to glance back from where he came.
He draws back away - firmly, purposefully - and shifts to walk back down the corridor. Passing through the entryway, he lifts his head. The gesture is more for appearance than need. Though, he does not know who he may be performing for. Perhaps, any of the Sinners that happened to loiter before going to their room? Perhaps.
His gaze fixes on the back of Dante's head and he begins to cross the short distance to reach them. He doesn't feel a tightening in his chest; there is no falter in his steps. Meursault opens his mouth but closes it soon after. The first thought that hit him was a wasteful comment. It was a comment on how Sisphysus found happiness and fulfillment in his task.
But that is not what he wants to say. ]
Bonsoir. [ He calls to them instead. ] I have returned to check on you.
( meursault is alone in refraining from entering his room within the corridors. all of the other Sinners, exhausted and defeated, had filed into their own cell-like accommodations one by one, and vergilius and charon had similarly retired. mephistopheles is a strange place to be alone. the lights dimmed, it is strange in its stillness, bizarre in its near-silence — the vast majority of dante's experiences with this indescribable engine are characterized by movement, by near-bestial howls from its engine... inert and powered down as its inhabitants go to sleep, it is nearly as eerie and unsettling as the network of corridors that it is linked to.
as they are prone to do, dante has pulled out their PDA; they look through the notes they've already taken, through the statistics and information they have on each of the Sinners and their various Identities and E.G.O., pouring through them as if there were a puzzle hidden beneath that they hadn't quite managed to figure out yet. eventually they pull up their notes again, ready to record something about their failure so they can hope to learn from it, when they are alerted by the sound of a voice greeting them.
they had heard the quiet sound of footsteps, but they had simply assumed it was one of the Sinners, slow to retire to their room. dante recognizes meursault's low voice, of course; they lower their PDA, looking over their shoulder to the tall man as he approached down the center aisle of the bus. )
< Oh. Meursault, um, > ( putting their PDA away inside of their pocket, they stand to face the man a little more conversationally, nodding, ) < Bonsoir. >
( for some reason they think it's strange that they know a few words of this language that meursault speaks sometimes. they know enough to know it is a different language, but not much more than that. are they ever going to stop being such a mystery to themself? just as much of one, if not bigger, than the world around them. )
< You don't have to do that... If anything, perhaps I should have spoken more to you all to make sure you were okay before dismissing you for the evening... >
( their right hand worries at the glove on their left. )
< Even so... Thank you. >
( most of the Sinners are so turbulent by nature, making them difficult to work with and handle. meursault, typically so reasonable and dependable, is a welcome relief in comparison. )
[ Meursault is silent, at first. It doesn't seem like Dante wants a reply regarding what they should have done. However, he does not think that their manager did anything wrong - there is much that people want to digest on their own. The same, he thinks, could be said about Dante themselves.
And yet instead of returning to his room, he came out to see them.
So, he stands - still, unmoving, and staring with the same expression as always. He tilts his chin a fraction to indicate that he acknowledges the thanks. ]
This is only normal to do. While we are in your care, you are still a new manager. [ Emotional, psychological, physical - Dante's state of existence matters more than any of the Sinners. And not just because of how they can turn back time.
A few more precious seconds follow before he takes a step closer. He turns his head - another slight fraction; his ear facing the door and listening. But it is just silence. Everyone truly has retired for the day. Yet still he pauses, listening. The quiet drag on before his eyes swerve back to look at Dante. ]
There is little chance that anyone will be interrupting us. [ Meursault finally breaks his silence. ] Executive Manager, I have something to say. [ Rare is it that he has any desire to voice his opinion about anything. Sometimes, he finds a comment or two slip out before he can stop them. But usually, he is but a shadow remaining in the background, observing everything. ]
I like you.
[ There is no real preamble to his confession. He waited only a beat to let it sink in that he has something to relay to Dante before telling them his feelings. Oddly, he feels a weight pressing down on his shoulders instead of being lifted off. He frowns, lips curling down a few degrees more than usual, and fixes his stare on their clock face. ]
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BKST OVERFLOW CONTINUATIONS:
𝚜𝚑𝚎𝚕𝚝𝚎𝚛𝚎𝚍:
( where the bus is parked! outside! so, no, it wasn't intentional at all, because dante doesn't care nearly as much about what decisions or mistakes the sinners make outside of their shared transportation (and living space), but they would suppose to see the irony if it was pointed out to them.
hong lu is leaning against mephistopheles' door when the bus comes within sight. dante hastens their pace, raising one gloved hand to greet the sinner as they come within range. )
< Hello, Hong Lu. >
( they didn't have to walk from very far, so they're not feeling very tired right now, but... if the quest for this regal pizza takes as long as they're beginning to fear it might, it might be a very long day. )
< Do you have an idea of where we can start our search? That, or... I guess we could just choose a direction and start looking. >
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[ his words come as a sing-song, playfully sung to copy the audible ticking dante makes. as entertaining as it is to talk about, he's pushing himself off from the door so he can close the distance between him and his manager. ]
I have a map of the district we're in, so we can check every pizza parlor.
[ he pulls a thin piece of paper from his pocket, unrolling it like a treasure scroll as he searches for the "x" that marks the spot. memorizing a few of the backstreets and alleyways, he turns it around to show to dante. his finger taps against a "you are here" that he had written in while waiting for the other to arrive. there's even a cutely drawn bus there too, just so they can remember where they parked. ]
Do you think the guy we helped could tell us the place his mother would visit, maybe?
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regardless, dante doesn't really mind; they have to adjust their line of sight upwards slightly to maintain what passes for "eye contact" for them. )
< Oh. >
( they can't help but be surprised as they inspect the map that hong lu produces. how prepared? how forward-thinking? it's not something they would typically expect of him, but they end up chiding themself for such an assumption. it's not as though they've known any of the sinners for very long — they're certain they will continue to surprise them. )
< Good thinking! I'm sure this will be very helpful. > ( dante accents their compliment with a pleasant ding! sound. ) < Hm... We could certainly try. I'm not sure the same pizza place his mother might have liked to order from would serve this kingly pizza you're after, but he might have an idea of where it might be found instead. >
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as much as they can run around as headless chickens (hah!), the map only makes sure they aren't entirely lost, and also makes this like a treasure hunt which is just as fun. he may not know that dante probably thinks little of him, or has low expectations, but hong lu does everything with a purpose — sort of how like he sets heathcliff up for his back jokes just to have the other attack him, it's pretty funny to see him irritated.
oh, oh, the ding. that must mean he's done good, and to praise dante for giving him a ding, he's outstretches his arms to wrap around the other's neck, pressing the side of that clock-cheek against his own cheek with a grin. ]
Thank you for the praise ~
[ he's not against it, but he doesn't overstay his contact, and pulls away. ]
If that's the case, then we could make it ourselves. I could find out the recipe, I'm sure you're good at cooking.
[ or good at stopping hong lu from burning down the kitchen... which is probably more useful than cooking, but whatever. he's already starting to choose a path to walk down as he keeps a steady pace so that dante can catch up. ]
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𝚒𝚖𝚖𝚘𝚛𝚝𝚊𝚕𝚙𝚘𝚎𝚝:
( "lucky" is certainly a word to use for it. and dante does believe they are lucky, because certainly their job would be even more difficult and their mission might very well be insurmountable if they didn't have vergilius' (admittedly stern) guidance. that having been said... they have seen enough of the Color's brutal martial expertise and harsh handling of the sinners to have what they think is a healthy respect and wariness of the man. a wariness that can sometimes bleed over into an animal-instinct fear in certain instances...
instances such as vergilius seemingly teleporting through space to appear before them; it's something that dante feels rather than sees, given their state, but it's enough to cause their stomach to lurch and the remaining hairs along the nape of their neck to stand on end.
the stabilizing hand does immediately arrest their forward movement, and they're able to regain their balance. their composure, however... a faint shudder passes through their body before they manage to get that back under control.
dante is still concerned they're going to get into more trouble over this, though that emotion is somewhat stymied by something mysterious they perceive on vergilius' face — is that the shape of a smile? is that more or less terrifying? regardless, they try to calm themself down, tick-tocking out a response that is, of course, not going to make its contents known to him. there is one curious thing about the manager's visage, however: rather than the clock-hands progressing in any normal, circular way, each tick or tock just has them stick in place with a slightly atypical accompanying chk sound.
they aren't really sure if they are drunk in the traditional sense (doesn't that have to do with alcohol in your bloodstream affecting your brain? do they still have a brain in there??) or in one unique to their current state (the alcohol in their head simply interfering with their senses), but in the end it doesn't matter. the result is alarmingly similar. dante steels themself before nodding sadly; they control the movement more this time, so they don't risk falling, but there is the loud sloshing of liquor.
next they point to vergilius, tilting their head (slowly and carefully) to one side before giving one questioning tock? what is his plan, now that he's here? )
I HOPE YOUR MOVE WENT WELL!!
[The ticks and tocks are lost to him, of course. No blessing of chains and connection was granted to him, nor was it ever wanted, but somehow, there's a sense of understanding from them he can't quite put into words. Body language, movement, the way the manager holds themself, it all somehow translates on its own to him. The details may be lost, but the gist? Still there and true.]
[Vergilius did say that they were the easiest to talk to on the bus, after all.]
[He notes the uneven bob in their head, complete with the sound of liquid moving in unseen compartments, and determines that yes, indeed, maintenance is in order. But not here. Not now.]
I'm taking you back. To open you up here would be asking for vulnerability.
[He may be capable of protecting their wayward, troublesome manager, but its not something he particularly wants to do. He shifts his grip very slightly, and before any form of proper warning is given, he lets out a "hup"-]
[And throws Dante over one shoulder as roughly as one would a bag of potatoes. For Vergilius, though, with his strength, Dante barely weighs a thing. His grip, now on the other's side, holds strong as he turns on his heel in the direction he came.]
I'll empty you out in the bus. I'll kick out those Sinners if I have to.
[He remembers Ishmael's "attempt" to help. He hardly wants a repeat of it.]
it could have gone better, but at least it's over 😄
they do wonder often what vergilius had meant when he'd said that — they'd at first thought it was because, being unable to reply back and be understood, it just made them into a better listener. but that doesn't ring very true for the man, considering he's reticent even in his comparatively better moods... so maybe it instead has something to do with how dante can't be anything but guileless, given their circumstances?
perhaps they should just take the comment at face value and stop ruminating on it.
if they do have to open up their head in order to drain it, it does make sense to do so on the bus... even though dante is concerned about making a mess of the floor that is both their transportation and more often than not their sleeping quarters. but they have neither time nor chance to attempt to give their opinion on the matter before the arm around their waist tightens, and they are thrown unceremoniously over vergilius' shoulder. where someone might have gone oof at such a thing, dante instead makes a sort of ka-CHUNK sound; for just a moment they go stiff and weakly struggle against the iron grasp, out of more instinct than anything, but they give up the ghost fairly quickly and go completely limp in defeat.
though, as they make their way back to the bus, they do dolorously tick-tock to themself about the state they're in and how they don't want to be seen either like this or carried like this by the sinners, but... that's not really in their power anymore.
maybe they won't be there already... hopefully... )
awww AT LEAST ITS OVER
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𝚕𝚞𝚌𝚑𝚒𝚗𝚘:
Oh. You're a scientist then?
I suppose I could trust it to you, then...
( everyone should trust luchino at all times )
No, I don't think I would be able to deal with more heat than normal. I'm already worried the heat might boil the alcohol and that would cause a problem?
( did they mention their head is basically on fire at all times, luchino? probably not, and maybe that's for the best, because dante couldn't explain it even if they wanted to. )
Straws, though...
That's kind of funny, even if I would rather people not use my head as a cocktail mixer.
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i see. it's only a problem if you feel that it might be. i'm not some kind of monster. i'm proud of my accomplishments.
[ as long as no one does him harm, he is a friendly sort. sorry to all those he's sent back to the manor time and time again. ]
even if the original plan doesn't work, i'm sure we can figure something else out. you're not afraid, are you?
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( it's just maybe a little bit sus, luchino??
but dante is in quite a predicament, and they don't want to task it to the sinners or vergilius, so... they might as well believe in the good will of a stranger. )
Well... I won't say that I'm not afraid, but.
I'm not going to let it stop me.
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𝚋𝚕𝚊𝚝𝚝𝚎𝚕𝚕𝚊:
Yes, that's true...
( there is perhaps a telling silence as gregor asks how they are and brings up vergilius. it seems his guesses landed fairly close to the truth... )
He was... very displeased...
Both with you sinners' behavior and with my inability to control you properly...
I don't believe anything was broken that we can't fix, but I'm afraid we probably won't be allowed to spend our free time at a bar like that for quite a while.
Though, really, we have mostly the usual suspects to blame for that...
( relatively speaking, gregor had been one of the good ones once drunk. don quixote, heathcliff, rodion, and ryoshu, however... they had made things much more challenging for dante to deal with. sometimes they think it's too bad they can only rewind them back from death and not rewind all of the damage they can cause as well... )
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[Is Donki even old enough to drink? Not that he had been when he'd enlisted, so Gregor knows damn well he can't judge, but man...Man. It's like herding cats at the best of times, let alone with everyone sloshed and tottering about.]
If it makes you feel any better, I don't recall what your ass feels like or anything?
...Is that even reassuring? I'm not sure. Look, the point is that you always do your best, and the only reason Vergilius has success in calming everyone down is the fact that he's such a threat. But I like you as you are, personally. It's nice having a manager who's also my pal.
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I do think you all deserve a reward for doing so well lately. Though... Yes, in the future, it probably won't have anything to do with alcohol.
( there is a pause which might have been filled with a surprised-sounding tock sound were they speaking in person, but gregor will just have to imagine it before dante manages a response. )
Well that's probably for the best I think considering our working relationship and all!!
( the easily-flustered clock needs a moment to regain their composure.
as happy as they are to hear such encouraging words from gregor, dante feels their situation is more complicated than that. vergilius and faust seem to have some sort of expectation of them, and they can sense the importance and gravity of their mission. they don't want to fail — they feel like they can't fail... as much as they want to be a friend to the sinners, they are here to be their manager, and they worry those two things can't always coexist perfectly. but still... )
Thank you, Gregor.
I do think I need to improve at what I do, or else I might end up further endangering you all.
But I will try not to change too much.
( they hope they don't change too much. if they ever managed to regain their head and their memories, would they end up becoming a worse person? )
To tell you the truth, though, I enjoyed seeing you relax and enjoy yourself last night.
me, hours later, like 'holy shit i forgot to say I HOPE THE MOVE WENT WELL' sorry orz
the movers were like 5 hours late so it Wasn't Great, but it's over with now at least
what in tarnation......at least you can enjoy your new place at LAST tho X(
yes!! all's well that ends well
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tfln late to the party, 2
( Saw And Laughed, yes. )
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it doesn't make it any less hurtful... )
So it wasn't you who did it, Ryoshu?
You should know by now that, yes, I do sleep!!
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didn't do it, though. i'd have made you into a real piece of art.
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𝚌𝚊𝚝𝚌𝚑𝚢:
( ryoshu, please... this is all they have, this is all they are )
A roast??
I... I don't know? I must have survived long enough for the prosthetic to be attached, but...
I would really rather not find out...
( let's leave microaggressions at gregor out of this )
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smokey, earthy... TANG.
we can try a chip of you if not the whole thing, no?
[ admittedly, she's not keen on losing their auto-revivalist. not because she's scared of death by any measure, but because she can't experience a plethora of "art" without him. it's not a bad thing, getting sliced open or seeing her comrades in the same position... to her, anyway.
true art is hard to come by, and dante provides it.
she appreciates him for all the wrong reasons. ]
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The whole thing is absolutely NOT an option!
But, hypothetically-speaking...
If we could break off a chip of it, or a clock-hand or something, what on Earth would you do to it to make it palatable?
( call it morbid curiosity.
ryoshu is unsubtle enough about her proclivities and passions that dante would have a good understanding of why it is that she values them and what they contribute to the team. they may be the wrong reasons, but... considering how they feel many of the sinners take them and what they do to revive them for granted, they will still take the appreciation gladly. )
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𝚏𝚞𝚛𝚒𝚘𝚞𝚜:
What did you do???
This is terrible... We have to get you out of there immediately!
𝚌𝚑𝚊𝚒𝚗𝚟𝚎𝚗𝚐𝚎𝚊𝚗𝚌𝚎:
since the LCCB had been called in to settle the issue that had arisen between Bodhisattva Chicken and Eunbong's Bar and Fryers, which they'd found had resulted in the latter's owner becoming a Distortion, it had settled into an uncommon routine that the team aboard Mephistopheles would occasionally be dispatched to take care of other issues. dante has never been able to see any pattern among these missions, no real rhyme or reason for why they were called to handle it and not any of the dozens (if not hundreds) of other Fixer Offices and Associations in the City. they have to assume there's some sort of overarching plan to it... certainly it can't be that the Company is hurting for cash, given all of the resources that they've seen the other teams to have available to them?
even if vergilius pleads poverty whenever they too often suggest to stop somewhere and get food for the sinners, as a reward for a job well done.
there is certainly no reason for something like that this evening. even though dante had tried their best to direct the sinners (and the ensuing chaos had resulted in several of them dying and needing to be rewound), they hadn't been able to establish control of the situation. they had been called upon to retreat (as threat to the Executive Manager was getting a little too high to be acceptable to continue, or so the team that had come to retrieve them had claimed), and other groups that dante hadn't even recognized had stormed in to try to recover whatever they could from the mess left behind.
of course, dante feels like it's their fault. they sit quiet and defeated in their seat on the bus, shoulders bowed and otherwise unfocused. they can hear the sound of the door opening to the corridors beyond the back of the bus as the sinners quietly file away to their own quarters — they had released them from their duties for the rest of the evening before sitting. they assume that they will all retreat once given time to do so; there's no awkward jockeying for who might take first watch, as there are enough teams from other branches of the Company about outside that it was unnecessary.
they... will go to their own room at some point soon enough. for now, they just want to sit here and gather their thoughts. they go through the paths they had taken, the commands they had given, the choices they had made over and over, trying to figure out if there would have been a successful combination... and if it was even in their power to choose better the next time —
yes, they prefer to think through this here on the bus rather than inside the corridors and the rooms beyond. there's still something about them that unsettle dante ever-so-slightly. )
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He draws back away - firmly, purposefully - and shifts to walk back down the corridor. Passing through the entryway, he lifts his head. The gesture is more for appearance than need. Though, he does not know who he may be performing for. Perhaps, any of the Sinners that happened to loiter before going to their room? Perhaps.
His gaze fixes on the back of Dante's head and he begins to cross the short distance to reach them. He doesn't feel a tightening in his chest; there is no falter in his steps. Meursault opens his mouth but closes it soon after. The first thought that hit him was a wasteful comment. It was a comment on how Sisphysus found happiness and fulfillment in his task.
But that is not what he wants to say. ]
Bonsoir. [ He calls to them instead. ] I have returned to check on you.
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as they are prone to do, dante has pulled out their PDA; they look through the notes they've already taken, through the statistics and information they have on each of the Sinners and their various Identities and E.G.O., pouring through them as if there were a puzzle hidden beneath that they hadn't quite managed to figure out yet. eventually they pull up their notes again, ready to record something about their failure so they can hope to learn from it, when they are alerted by the sound of a voice greeting them.
they had heard the quiet sound of footsteps, but they had simply assumed it was one of the Sinners, slow to retire to their room. dante recognizes meursault's low voice, of course; they lower their PDA, looking over their shoulder to the tall man as he approached down the center aisle of the bus. )
< Oh. Meursault, um, > ( putting their PDA away inside of their pocket, they stand to face the man a little more conversationally, nodding, ) < Bonsoir. >
( for some reason they think it's strange that they know a few words of this language that meursault speaks sometimes. they know enough to know it is a different language, but not much more than that. are they ever going to stop being such a mystery to themself? just as much of one, if not bigger, than the world around them. )
< You don't have to do that... If anything, perhaps I should have spoken more to you all to make sure you were okay before dismissing you for the evening... >
( their right hand worries at the glove on their left. )
< Even so... Thank you. >
( most of the Sinners are so turbulent by nature, making them difficult to work with and handle. meursault, typically so reasonable and dependable, is a welcome relief in comparison. )
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And yet instead of returning to his room, he came out to see them.
So, he stands - still, unmoving, and staring with the same expression as always. He tilts his chin a fraction to indicate that he acknowledges the thanks. ]
This is only normal to do. While we are in your care, you are still a new manager. [ Emotional, psychological, physical - Dante's state of existence matters more than any of the Sinners. And not just because of how they can turn back time.
A few more precious seconds follow before he takes a step closer. He turns his head - another slight fraction; his ear facing the door and listening. But it is just silence. Everyone truly has retired for the day. Yet still he pauses, listening. The quiet drag on before his eyes swerve back to look at Dante. ]
There is little chance that anyone will be interrupting us. [ Meursault finally breaks his silence. ] Executive Manager, I have something to say. [ Rare is it that he has any desire to voice his opinion about anything. Sometimes, he finds a comment or two slip out before he can stop them. But usually, he is but a shadow remaining in the background, observing everything. ]
I like you.
[ There is no real preamble to his confession. He waited only a beat to let it sink in that he has something to relay to Dante before telling them his feelings. Oddly, he feels a weight pressing down on his shoulders instead of being lifted off. He frowns, lips curling down a few degrees more than usual, and fixes his stare on their clock face. ]
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