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pluviosa2024-02-14 09:13 pm
pluviosamods) wrote in pluviosa2024-02-14 09:13 pm
Entry tags:
GAME OPENING LOG
GAME OPENING
There's still dripping everywhere, and the gurgle of standing water shifting and draining to somewhere further down...
... But the sound of the rain outside has stopped. And you haven't heard the thunder in a while.
Take a moment. Look out the windows, the glass doors leading out to the balconies - the world beyond is lighting up. Mountains stand out against the distant eastern horizon, breaking up the first of the sunlight into scattered beams. The ship chases that light, running eastward towards the glow of dawn. Its motion is easier to bear now that the storm is over - the wind no longer tries to blow it off course.
You've survived the night - survived the storm. You get the feeling it won't be the last.
The storm abates over the course of the night - by midnight, it's dropped back enough that water and wind are no longer forcing their way through the bubble barriers, and by about an hour before sunrise - just when the sky is starting to get light - the rain has stopped completely. The clouds persist a bit longer, giving characters a spectacular sunrise to look at. When the first rays of the sun are visible over the mountains, any characters still affected by hallucinations feel their minds clear.
Fifteen minutes after dawn - about when it's getting to be a pain to look directly in the direction the ship is travelling because of the sun directly in the eyeballs - characters who are sensitive to electricity may sense the power kick back on. It's just in the wires and cables spread throughout the ship, however - the lights don't turn on, although the elevators do.
Five minutes after that, there's a crackle that is audible to all characters, from speakers spread throughout the hallways and rooms of the ship. Not every speaker is functional - some of them just continue to emit static instead of the message that follows - but enough of them are that every character will be able to hear a single piercing beep, followed by an artificial voice in an androgynous tenor:
"ALL PASSENGERS, PLEASE REPORT TO THE AFT LOUNGE ON DECK R-ZERO FOR A HEADCOUNT."
There's silence for a moment, and then another, quieter alert beep, and the same voice adds, almost as an afterthought,
"Please follow the emergency lighting in the hallways for guidance."
After that announcement, strips of lighting on the ceiling of the hallways - the lights are also on the floor, but even after the rain has washed so much dirt away, you're unlikely to see them anywhere except close enough to the stairs that you don't need them - light up. They begin to move in a pattern of diodes that leads characters to the staircases and elevators near the back of the ship, in the somewhat drier part of it that has more decks above the one where characters woke up.
The stairs are now navigable - even if there's still a decent amount of water flowing down them, not entirely contained by the channels cut into the outside of the turns of the staircase - and the elevators are now powered. Well, sort of. Although the elevators have power, the buttons inside do not - all of them are dark. Instead, the elevators automatically move characters upwards after they enter, depositing them on deck R0 for the indicated headcount.
Other than the increasingly large number of confused "passengers," however, there doesn't seem to be anything here. Some furniture in varying states of decay, sure, and puddles and debris from the storm's flooding, but no indication of humans or any other form of sapient life. The space is wide and open, and decently well-lit even with the overhead lights off, since the majority of the walls to either side appear to be made of glass.
Once everyone has assembled - or at least everyone who is willing to come, as nothing forces characters do follow instructions from a strange voice - there is another crackle of speaker feedback. At least there's no blaring alert tone to start this message.
"THANK YOU FOR YOUR COOPERATION."
The voice is the same as before - and anyone from a semi-modern world would be able to tell, from the pattern of speech, that this is a synthesized voice, not a real person, or at least not a real person willing to reveal themselves to be such. It speaks entirely in the language characters discovered knowing when they woke up here. The volume of the voice decreases somewhat after the initial announcement gets everyone's attention, but it is still audible to everyone.
"Please excuse the inadequate accommodations. Your arrival was unexpected. This ship has not entertained new passengers in 317 years, 6 months, and 19 days."
"We will do our best to prepare appropriate accommodations as quickly as possible. However, the immediate priority is to supply passengers with meals and other appropriate provisions. Please accept this with our sincerest apologies."
At the close of those words, the elevator doors to either side of the lounge area open, and self-propelled carts - the kind you might see in industrial kitchens - roll out. Their lower shelves are stacked with bowls, cups, and those plastic utensil holders filled with spoons, while the upper halves are full of food and drink. Specifically, the majority are full of cafeteria pans of oatmeal, the kind with the metal lids that keep the heat in. In addition to the oatmeal, there's a wide variety of raw fruits and vegetables, and some additional options for throwing in your oatmeal such as cinnamon, honey, both brown and white sugar, shaved almonds, and other things that can be made from plants and stored for a long time. There are also two carts at either end full of hot drinks - one of tea, one of coffee - and one each of cold drinks such as fruit juice. There do not appear to be any meat or dairy offerings, although there's both almond and soy milk for your coffee if you can tolerate the substitutes. (It tastes somewhat metallic, like it was dehydrated for a long time, but the coffee and tea themselves taste quite fresh.)
Once the carts have wheeled themselves out, the voice continues from the speakers.
"In order to better serve our passengers, we would like to ask you a few questions. First: What is your locale of origin? Second: Why have you come?"
For OOC questions about this event, please use the OOC Questions header in the comments below. To respond to the Ship's questions, or ask it some of your own, please use the Talk to the Ship header. Otherwise, this post is a mingle, and players are encouraged to post their own top-level comments for their characters and reply to each other.
Following this post, simple food will be available in this area during "active" hours, starting from around dawn to two hours after sunset (the ship's days, at least at present, are about evenly divided). At night, the food carts roll away into one of the restaurants around the edges of this area. Instead, wheeled dumpsters with grabbing attachments collect up the old furniture and cram it into themselves, and starting the second night, 'new' furniture takes its place, mostly dining tables and chairs of various sizes.
Characters now have theoretically full access to the ship; however, the elevators are only mostly functional as debris is cleared from them. The rear elevators go all the way up the residential levels, but only as far down as deck 3. The front elevators only move between decks R0, 0, and 1.
More information on the schedule of shipwide upgrades will be available on the event plotting post in a few days. Until then - at least it's dry weather and smooth sailing for a while?
... But the sound of the rain outside has stopped. And you haven't heard the thunder in a while.
Take a moment. Look out the windows, the glass doors leading out to the balconies - the world beyond is lighting up. Mountains stand out against the distant eastern horizon, breaking up the first of the sunlight into scattered beams. The ship chases that light, running eastward towards the glow of dawn. Its motion is easier to bear now that the storm is over - the wind no longer tries to blow it off course.
You've survived the night - survived the storm. You get the feeling it won't be the last.
The storm abates over the course of the night - by midnight, it's dropped back enough that water and wind are no longer forcing their way through the bubble barriers, and by about an hour before sunrise - just when the sky is starting to get light - the rain has stopped completely. The clouds persist a bit longer, giving characters a spectacular sunrise to look at. When the first rays of the sun are visible over the mountains, any characters still affected by hallucinations feel their minds clear.
Fifteen minutes after dawn - about when it's getting to be a pain to look directly in the direction the ship is travelling because of the sun directly in the eyeballs - characters who are sensitive to electricity may sense the power kick back on. It's just in the wires and cables spread throughout the ship, however - the lights don't turn on, although the elevators do.
Five minutes after that, there's a crackle that is audible to all characters, from speakers spread throughout the hallways and rooms of the ship. Not every speaker is functional - some of them just continue to emit static instead of the message that follows - but enough of them are that every character will be able to hear a single piercing beep, followed by an artificial voice in an androgynous tenor:
"ALL PASSENGERS, PLEASE REPORT TO THE AFT LOUNGE ON DECK R-ZERO FOR A HEADCOUNT."
There's silence for a moment, and then another, quieter alert beep, and the same voice adds, almost as an afterthought,
"Please follow the emergency lighting in the hallways for guidance."
After that announcement, strips of lighting on the ceiling of the hallways - the lights are also on the floor, but even after the rain has washed so much dirt away, you're unlikely to see them anywhere except close enough to the stairs that you don't need them - light up. They begin to move in a pattern of diodes that leads characters to the staircases and elevators near the back of the ship, in the somewhat drier part of it that has more decks above the one where characters woke up.
The stairs are now navigable - even if there's still a decent amount of water flowing down them, not entirely contained by the channels cut into the outside of the turns of the staircase - and the elevators are now powered. Well, sort of. Although the elevators have power, the buttons inside do not - all of them are dark. Instead, the elevators automatically move characters upwards after they enter, depositing them on deck R0 for the indicated headcount.
Other than the increasingly large number of confused "passengers," however, there doesn't seem to be anything here. Some furniture in varying states of decay, sure, and puddles and debris from the storm's flooding, but no indication of humans or any other form of sapient life. The space is wide and open, and decently well-lit even with the overhead lights off, since the majority of the walls to either side appear to be made of glass.
AT THE CAFETERIA
Once everyone has assembled - or at least everyone who is willing to come, as nothing forces characters do follow instructions from a strange voice - there is another crackle of speaker feedback. At least there's no blaring alert tone to start this message.
"THANK YOU FOR YOUR COOPERATION."
The voice is the same as before - and anyone from a semi-modern world would be able to tell, from the pattern of speech, that this is a synthesized voice, not a real person, or at least not a real person willing to reveal themselves to be such. It speaks entirely in the language characters discovered knowing when they woke up here. The volume of the voice decreases somewhat after the initial announcement gets everyone's attention, but it is still audible to everyone.
"Please excuse the inadequate accommodations. Your arrival was unexpected. This ship has not entertained new passengers in 317 years, 6 months, and 19 days."
"We will do our best to prepare appropriate accommodations as quickly as possible. However, the immediate priority is to supply passengers with meals and other appropriate provisions. Please accept this with our sincerest apologies."
At the close of those words, the elevator doors to either side of the lounge area open, and self-propelled carts - the kind you might see in industrial kitchens - roll out. Their lower shelves are stacked with bowls, cups, and those plastic utensil holders filled with spoons, while the upper halves are full of food and drink. Specifically, the majority are full of cafeteria pans of oatmeal, the kind with the metal lids that keep the heat in. In addition to the oatmeal, there's a wide variety of raw fruits and vegetables, and some additional options for throwing in your oatmeal such as cinnamon, honey, both brown and white sugar, shaved almonds, and other things that can be made from plants and stored for a long time. There are also two carts at either end full of hot drinks - one of tea, one of coffee - and one each of cold drinks such as fruit juice. There do not appear to be any meat or dairy offerings, although there's both almond and soy milk for your coffee if you can tolerate the substitutes. (It tastes somewhat metallic, like it was dehydrated for a long time, but the coffee and tea themselves taste quite fresh.)
Once the carts have wheeled themselves out, the voice continues from the speakers.
"In order to better serve our passengers, we would like to ask you a few questions. First: What is your locale of origin? Second: Why have you come?"
OOC INFO
For OOC questions about this event, please use the OOC Questions header in the comments below. To respond to the Ship's questions, or ask it some of your own, please use the Talk to the Ship header. Otherwise, this post is a mingle, and players are encouraged to post their own top-level comments for their characters and reply to each other.
Following this post, simple food will be available in this area during "active" hours, starting from around dawn to two hours after sunset (the ship's days, at least at present, are about evenly divided). At night, the food carts roll away into one of the restaurants around the edges of this area. Instead, wheeled dumpsters with grabbing attachments collect up the old furniture and cram it into themselves, and starting the second night, 'new' furniture takes its place, mostly dining tables and chairs of various sizes.
Characters now have theoretically full access to the ship; however, the elevators are only mostly functional as debris is cleared from them. The rear elevators go all the way up the residential levels, but only as far down as deck 3. The front elevators only move between decks R0, 0, and 1.
More information on the schedule of shipwide upgrades will be available on the event plotting post in a few days. Until then - at least it's dry weather and smooth sailing for a while?
no subject
[He'd respect that wish. Except... one nagging thing in the back of his mind.]
So uh. Do you have a true form, then? Something not quite so human going on there? You've already seen me at my strongest.
[Childe is genuinely curious, with the implication being that he wants to see it, if possible. Deeply interested. He understands if the answer is no-- It's a very private thing to reveal the true nature of one's being, he gets it.
But Childe also figured since he's appeared in front of the man in Foul Legacy form... Maybe he'd have a little luck asking. A... 'You show me yours and I'll show you mine' kind of exchange. With a dragon much stronger than his human brain could fully comprehend. A dragon that he also wouldn't mind dying in battle against.
...There was a lot wrong with him.]
No pressure.
no subject
[In other words: what you see is what you get. Neuvillette passes for human at even moderately close inspection, unless he's using enough of his power for the glow and other effects to kick in. Only the pointed ears and dragon's eyes really set him apart.
Of course, under his clothes is perhaps a different story - but you're not likely to get any Fontainian to show enough skin in public to tell, much less the Chief Justice.]
That I was born in a human form remains perhaps the greatest mystery of my life. Perhaps someday I will find an answer for it. Until then, I appreciate the fact that it would be rather difficult to fit a dragon of my age into a theater seat.
[He does enjoy the opera, when he's not being called upon to sit center stage over a trial.]
no subject
Eh, I figured I'd give it a shot. No harm in asking.
[That was one hell of a mystery. A dragon who was only a dragon by.... Power? Name? Childe didn't know the specifics, and he wasn't about to ask the guy about his family history to figure this one out.
In any case, at Neuvillette's admittance that he did like fitting into the theater seats, the Harbinger laughs. Neuvillette's voice didn't quite fit the tone that a joke would normally carry, but the image of a fuckhuge dragon in that giant courtroom in a tiny seat was. It was a lot.]
Fair enough. They'd have to make you a whole other opera.
[With Childe's earlier assumption in mind, and his own presence at Rex Lapis' great yeetus deletus, he figures it was safe to think that if Neuvillette were to turn into a dragon proper.... He'd be pretty big. Maybe even like a whale. His fondness for cetaceans knew few bounds.]
In any case. I hope you can figure it out one day. Every dragon I've ever met has.... more or less been a dragon. Mostly. Kind of.
[Rex Lapis' draconic form had been part qilin, he'd heard. And that form was also more symbolic than him being a 'real actual dragon' thing--- he was still a guy.]
no subject
At the minimum. You've seen reports of the dragon known as 'Stormterror' in Mondstadt, I presume?
[After all, the Fatui were involved in that incident, if not Childe himself. The Anemo Gnosis was the first of the other nations the Harbingers laid claim to for their Archon's plans.]
Based upon age, I would be approximately that size. An open-air theater might be more appropriate, though I think some of the humans might object to inclement weather in that case.
[Especially any time a tragedy was showing.]
no subject
[Yeah, he'd heard of it. He didn't know its full size personally... But he was no stranger to dragons, having hunted a few in his homeland. Childe can more or less guess how big he might have been, with the admittance Neuvillette would need another opera at minimum.]
Yeah, I looked over a few reports. I got the news first, since I was in Liyue at the time for the Rite of Descension.
[They hadn't happened quite at the same time, but he had been in Liyue some time beforehand, just so happening to run into a funeral consultant he would then require the services of, later on.
Funny how that happened.Childe remembers the reports of the Fatui in the area attempting to gain some diplomatic sway during the disaster. And then of Signora having taken Barbatos' gnosis. A long-term coordinated plan in the will of the Tsaritsa.]
Inclement weather, huh?
[That rhyme. He supposes there is a shred of truth in every song and story told to children: If Hydro was an element of life and emotion, and Neuvillette was a dragon with enough esteem to stand guard over the Primordial Sea... Then it would make sense that Neuvillette's own emotions might influence the weather to some degree.]
Yeah, I get the feeling people might not like that. Imagine dressing up for a play and your nation's dragon has a monsoon coming down on you.
[Childe laughs just a little, imagining torrential rains just dousing the audience during a climatic moment.]
no subject
['That entire debacle' being the Geo Archon faking his death, of course. Most people aren't privy to that fact, and Neuvillette isn't petty enough to out him if Childe somehow doesn't know.
Given that the Fatui left Liyue with the Geo Gnosis, though, he would wager they're both in on it, just from very different sources of information.
Still, as for the rest... If he was human, his cheeks would color. As it is, there's just a faint expression of embarrassment, his eyes flicking away.]
A monsoon is a bit of an overstatement. I can say with complete honesty that I have never caused that strong of a weather change over a play.
no subject
[Childe sighs, softly. His being there was the point of it all. Childe can be petty, and still hasn't totally let go of his grudge, but he's not petty enough to out Zhongli. The Harbinger figures if Neuvillette is willing to share some of his information, the fatuus might as well offer up his own, too.
If anything, they were getting to know each other. It was necessary in these conditions.]
Yeah. I was given a plan to sow discontent among the humans and adepti. And then I summoned a god to drown Liyue while they argued so I could draw Morax out and collect the gnosis.
[If the fatuus had mora for every region he went to that was nearly drowned, he'd have two mora, but it was really weird it happened twice. It'd been years, he was over it, he'd bill Zhongli for therapy one day.]
Didn't quite happen the way I planned, but hey. I'm good at what I do. And I don't mind being used.
[And what he did was cause problems.
Neuvillette seemed... embarrassed. Not even looking at the redhead, now. So he hadn't caused a strong weather change over a play. That didn't mean at all. Childe remembers something on the way into Fontaine, that sometimes it rained on days when court was in session.]
I was joking, I swear.
[Before Childe can think about the implications of asking this guy to bare his fucking soul to him, the words are already leaving his mouth.]
...You say theater hasn't stirred you enough for something like that, and sure. I believe that. But you are the Iudex of Fontaine. You oversee every court case, right? I can't imagine it's easy.
no subject
It's a good thing he doesn't mind being used, because that's exactly what she did.]
The Lord of Contracts led you around by the nose, I take it.
[Between what the Traveler has told him and his own knowledge of the Archons, it's not a difficult guess, really.]
Don't be hard on yourself. Outwitting the eldest of the Seven is a difficult task, no matter what appearance he may be putting on these days.
[As for the rest... Neuvillette is quiet for a moment, but his microexpressions tell a good portion of the story before he even opens his mouth.]
Most of the people who have figured it out in the last century did so by observing the weather after particularly fraught trials, yes, usually over a period of years. Fortunately, the average Fontanian overlooks how I might feel about a given case in favor of watching Furina's response, for which I am grateful.
[Furina, of course, acts up her emotions, both the genuine ones and the ones she thinks are appropriate to a given situation that she doesn't feel.
no subject
The nice conversations, the fancy dinners, sharing drinks, buying shit for the guys own funeral, the chopsticks, no second glance, no warning-- Childe felt like a total idiot, like everyone else was playing by rules he wasn't told. Like his feelings had been played around with. His trust in the other man.
Childe was fine being used as a weapon. He loved it, lived it.
He wasn't okay with being treated like a plaything.]
...He did. I felt really stupid at the time. Now I'm just angry at him. With him. But-- er. He's gone and all so it uh. Doesn't matter.
[That is some real bad lying. Neuvillette seemed to already know.]
It wasn't just him, anyways. Where was a whole contract that I wasn't privvy to. Imagine. The God of Contracts somehow not having a contract around the ownership of his gnosis right after Barbatos loses his.
[His voice leans sarcastic the longer he speaks. But he was so over it, of course. Childe rubs the back of his neck. It was fine, he would say, through gritted teeth.
The Harbinger recovers as Neuvillette responds to his question, and it only makes the Harbinger wonder:
They had an interesting seat placement. Neuvillette as the judge of the trials, front and centre. The Court swayed at his command. But the people turned to watch Furina's reactions rather than continue to look upon Neuvillette's impartiality. He supposes the Iudex couldn't afford to be emotional about things the way she could, loud and showy and exaggerated.]
Huh. Yeah, the way you guys run trials does make it look like more of a show. But... it's not just a spectacle. It's very serious.
...You guys seem to have a weird relationship with the concept of justice.
no subject
You needn't attempt to maintain his cover story. I am well aware that Morax is alive and well; there are certain pieces of information that even someone in your position wouldn't be privy to that make it all too obvious.
[The Throne of Geo would not stand empty, and no constellations departed the sky when the Archon 'died,' certainly not those which have sat guard over Liyue for longer than Neuvillette himself has been alive. Under that evidence, the case brought before the court would be ironclad.]
Also, the Traveler has made mention to me of Archons, plural, who wear fake Visions to go undetected among their people. As there are only two of the Seven who are not publicly acting in their capacity as gods of their nations...
[Again. Simple logic. That is the kind of thing that is fundamental to Neuvillette, the thought patterns he's bathed in for centuries before the court. If Furina carries the emotional response of the court, then Neuvillette carries the logic - an ironic position indeed, for the dragon who commands the element of emotion.
Childe's own misgivings about Morax's behaviour are noted, somewhere in the back of his mind, as a subject to return to later. Before passing judgement, it is important to obtain statements from witnesses. As the one who will pass judgement on the gods, it is of course important for Neuvillette to get testimony from those who have seen their behaviour in the flesh, without the pretenses they may put up in front of him, knowing who he is.
But they can come back to that later. It seems they will have nothing but time.]
Many people think that 'justice' is a single, isolated concept or force. In my experience, there are many kinds of justice, and one of the most important is the justice that stems from the emotions.
Those who have been wronged wish to have that wrong acknowledged, often more than they desire to have an actual physical harm set right. They tell each other about those feelings, and so does the court of public opinion carry an ever-evolving docket.
And even those who have not been harmed want to believe in justice, because the concept brings them comfort against the fears of what might happen to them in the future. They want reassurance that villains will be punished and heroes will be rewarded.
[That belief is the root of the power Focalors used to break the Throne and return his power to him. 'Justice' truly is and ever has been Fontaine's god, far more so than Furina ever carried the title. On a fundamental level, the belief that things will be made right has powered Fontaine for centuries - quite literally.
It's the legacy the Hydro Archon left him, and perhaps the only god he could ever respect.]
The spectacle of the court at the Opera Epiclese serves both of these purposes of 'justice.' It is every bit as much a place of emotional catharsis as the many plays that share its stage. Such has been my observation, at least.
no subject
[He laughs, but his heart isn't fully in it.
The fatuus sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. The whole thing was still a headache for him. Caught within something between habit, respect, and a very personal score to settle. It wasn't the same as what had happened in the courtroom-- That wasn't personal, Childe knew. And while he'd been angry, and frustrated, and lashing out, there had been tons of space to do so.
Childe couldn't have and wouldn't have acted out like that in a bank in the middle of the city he just tried to drown. And thanks to his misadventure with his brother, by the time he left Liyue, the opportunity to meet up with Zhongli and fight it out had evaporated.
So here it festered. He'd let go* of it eventually.
*Childe has never let go of anything in his life.]
In retrospect, it was painfully obvious anyways.
[The only other archon he had heard of to act that way was Barbatos. Of course it was the two oldest of the Seven, that walked among their people with fake visions. Lying to everyone they came across, regardless of-- He reels his thoughts back. Neuvillette had a little insider information from the Traveler, at the very least.]
He wants to live how he wants to live now. I can't blame him for that.
[Neuvillette explains the nature of a sort of justice to him, as he saw it, as the people of Fontaine did. The intention of the Court as both a spectacle and institution. Childe listens, hand up to his chin, his fingers grazing idly at growing stubble.
And... It made sense. Everyone wanted closure, catharsis. A sense of yeah, that happened, it was horrible, here's where it ends. The Harbinger understands the idea, very well. A little too well.
The people wanted something to believe in, something to assure them that even if something were to happen, their woes would be taken seriously, that justice would come, and things would be okay.
The Iudex's words also reveal quite a bit about himself. It helps the redhead's mind form a clearer picture of who he was, what he valued. What did making justice a public affair on par with magic shows and theatre mean for the man who oversaw it all? What did it make of him, the one who stood as judge, who doled out punishment, who allowed citizens to battle to the death for a chance to leave the Court a free person?
The answer comes to him the longer Neuvillette speaks: It made him someone who was attuned to the feelings of his court, the people under his care. This wasn't just a job to him, not simply a task, but something he cared about. It meant something to him.]
That... makes a lot of sense. You've really thought about this.
[He did have like. 500 years of pondering it, to be fair. The Harbinger thinks of his own sentencing, one that left more questions than answers for everyone involved. The case was over, and he'd been uninvolved in the issue at hand entirely.]
But... Some people fall through the cracks, don't they? Basing this sort of thing on the emotions of the people and what they believe justice to be is... fragile. Fallible.
no subject
Or correctly enough, at any rate.]
Of course. I'm skeptical that a truly 'perfect' system of justice is even possible.
[He sounds tired, when he says it. Childe is correct in guessing that Neuvillette cares deeply for this matter; the imperfections of the justice system, both those he can fix and those he can't, have kept him up for more than a few nights over the centuries.]
Some aren't satisfied with the sentence the justice system hands out, and take things into their own hands. Some feels that the system won't support them, and so they work outside it. Many victims, of course, never live to see justice handed out at all.
[The young women whose longing for justice persisted even after their deaths were unusual, in that case. And it is precisely because of the failure of the system to protect them that Neuvillette allowed their final justice, allowed Vacher to make the mistake that he did, stepping into the fountain.
He had heard their voices, felt their anger, for a very long time, and he could not say they were not justified. The waters are quiet, now.]
I believe that the system we have, even with its flaws, is better than none at all. Part of my role is to compensate for those flaws where I can, to try and make the system more fair to those who would otherwise fall between those cracks, and to, when possible, change things so that those cracks no longer exist.
[Indeed, no one is more intimately aware of where the system is fallible than Neuvillette, who from his position at the center of the court, sees every place where the gears of justice catch and slip. He is the very face of that system - but a face that is perfectly willing to look the other way, if the situation calls for it.]
no subject
You can't make everyone happy. You can't save everyone. Sometimes the damage is done. I guess all you can do is try, huh?
[Like most things in life. He was unsure what to think of the Iudex, before they'd met. He'd only heard things in passing. Largely praise, of course. He'd kept his opinion curbed until actually meeting the man.
Now that they were actually talking, not within a courtroom, not between the Opera and Meropide... He had a chance to see a different side of him. Less commanding. Thoughtful, even kind.]
I don't have much experience with your legal system, but I'd say it's better than nothing, too. People lie and cheat all the time. You'll never know every detail that happened. If it gives most people something to believe in, and can set the score straight for those who have been harmed, even after death... Maybe that's all it needs to do.
[It was an interesting juxtaposition, but Childe knew everyone had their facets. Neuvillette had shown that aspect of his role earlier, offering him a sort of compensation for the wrongful imprisonment, his role in forcing the Narwhal back into the Primordial Sea before it could hurt the civilians in the opera.
Making the system more fair... Childe's mind thinks back to the Oratrice..... Er. Whatever all those words were. How it had given him a different ruling than even Neuvillette had.]
Fairness, huh. So did you fix whatever was wrong with the. Oratrice...?
[He's sure he's saying it right. Childe is not going to attempt to repeat the whole name. He'd probably get banned from Fontaine, too.
It does make Childe wonder. If he hadn't been imprisoned, he probably never would have found the Primordial Sea. And then never have found the Narwhal that he'd been chasing. Maybe his being there was the intention.
He's not going to wonder why a machine would want that, or how it could have figured that one out. He's willing to chalk it up to pure coincidence. Or fate.]
no subject
[Thoughtful, at least, is a descriptor Neuvillette can feel confident in. He truly has rolled over these thoughts many a time, and even more so now, that the concept of justice without the supporting structures of the court hangs before him.
The question of what it means to judge the gods is one without precedent, after all.
At the mention of the Oratrice, a faintly wry look crosses Neuvillette's face.]
In a manner of speaking. The Oratrice Mecanique d'Analyse Cardinale was powered by the Gnosis of Hydro, which I forfeited to the Knave after the events of the flood. As such, it no longer functions, and the role of passing judgement at court falls entirely upon my shoulders.
[So, while it is not exactly 'fixed,' it is no longer a subject of concern.]
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So the people really were gone. But... they couldn't be, right? Childe has trouble grasping the concept. Surely not, Neuvillette would have been a lot more sombre about this whole thing if they were all dissolved.
Neuvillette had a faint expression on his face, like he'd thought of something funny. There was something the other man knew but wasn't quite revealing, Childe is sure of it. And he's also sure that whether or not Neuvillette revealed it to him depended on how badly Childe wanted to know.]
So the prophecy came true, then. Fontaine flooded.
[Childe had spent the first week back in Snezhnaya asleep and recovering. Very little, if anything, was said to him about the state of Fontaine after his fight with the Narwhal. He'd assumed the Knave and her children more than capable of handling it. And given that she now had the gnosis...]
But you're still Iudex, and there's still court. So. What happened to the citizens, then? Is everyone alright?
[The redhead wonders what exactly happened, after he'd passed out. A glimpse of Skirk, after having desperately tried to enter the Abyss for years just to find her again. Waking up in an unfamiliar place with a nurse trying to take his temperature.
Childe's mind drifts back to the gnosis. It had powered the Oratrice, and had not been inside Furina or with Neuvillette after all.]
So the... gnosis declared me guilty?
[Or had it been Furina? She was a known stage actor.... But the gnoses weren't wholly connected to the archons that held them, right? They were passed from archon to archon.
His mind shifts to that strange guy in the wide brimmed hat that was also on the ship, the warnings about being careful with his family. Childe was not made for this weird political struggle between gods. He just wanted to knock heads together and get the daylights beat out of him for fun, and see how well he fared against each nation's most powerful warriors. Yes he wanted to see the Tsaritsa's plan through, but he had no real love for playing power games between nations.
The gnoses were somehow connected to... Celestia. And tied very deeply into the Tsaritsa's plan to topple it.
Maybe the fatuus' thinking was too grand. He was just another pawn to be used, after all, and everyone who ended up with his piece was more than happy to borrow it from the Tsaritsa for a bit. If he hadn't stayed in Fontaine, he wouldn't have been able to find the Narwhal. It wouldn't have called to him, if he weren't already close to the Primordial Sea at the time. It would have just attacked the city.
So he was being used by the gnosis itself. Maybe. Okay, yeah. He'd believe that.]