[ There's silence as he considers what he wants to say, what tack he wants to take. Most people he knows would be amazed to realize that Jonathan Sims very carefully considers quite a lot of things he says and does.
To paraphrase a certain meme: the risk is calculated but he is terrible at math most days.]
I shall have to endeavor to be worthy of your company then. Given... given that I know it's not... it's not an unconsidered difficulty.
[ He really can't dig into anyone's head at least not yet but he remembers their discussion, he remembers the question about being a telepath, and he knows Lark as a predator, someone constantly evaluating threats to themselves and those they claim as their own. He's under, well, less illusions than might be assumed about the people here, any of them really, but especially one who has been through the kind of madness this place subjects people to for as long as Lark has. The place is designed to unmake people, just from what he's seen in his short time. And Lark has survived it even without any exit but a path that satisfies his captors.
He thinks his own path will be in the opposite direction, but he's no more keen to satisfy Elias than he thinks Lark is to satisfy the Admiral and he has more faith in Lark than himself on this one.]
I won't throw your gifts in your face again, Lark. I won't- I can't consider whatever 'wardening' I'm here to do over the safety and well being of the people here, especially those who are just as trapped as the people I'm here to help.
Saying what I said, while you were still covered in blood, while there were bodies on the ground-
It was cruel. And I won't repeat the mistake. You deserve that, at the very least.
[ And, lightly, soft-]
You are one of my assistants as well, now. After all.
[Lark tries not to go into things with too many expectations. Believing you know what will happen will only keep you from adapting to what does happen, as he has finally learned. Or thought he had.
Being on the Barge has given him plenty of cynical expectations, it seems, because he listens to Jon start to finish in dumbfounded silence.
Frankly, Lark doesn't deserve many apologies. And he receives close to none of those he does earn. He doesn't ever go looking for someone else's 'sorry' and yet, having one now, it's...moving. Very.
He swallows hard and asks with just a slight rasp of feeling in his voice:]
Some of the talk we had. Some... some thoughts I had musing through the end of my statement on what happened in the library.
[ His words are quiet, thoughtful. Not so much careful as deliberate. Chosen. ]
I'm going to be a monster, whether I like it or not. But... it's up to me to choose what kind of monster I'm going to be.
I won't let Elias choose it.
And I won't let the Admiral choose it either.
Which means... being the man- the person I want to be, regardless of... regardless of anything else. And I like to think that person... that person concerns himself first and foremost with the people in front of him. The things he can directly do something about. Which, [ this comes with a mild chuckle ] is the people of the barge, for the foreseeable future.
I really appreciate that, Jon. [His voice is quiet, like it would be with another wolf. The words themselves feel inadequate but he isn't used to this, and if he tried to say more he'd be struggling to put anything together.]
Controlling the monsters we become is the single most important thing we can ever do, in my opinion.
[Kneejerk response, of course, would be a smile and a 'no'. And really there's very, very little that anyone can do to give Lark some peace of mind. That's part of life on the Barge; it's worse when you're serving a life sentence.
But there is one thing.]
Is there any balance for you? Working to contain the Leitners, and living?
I want to say that you should find it, but that would make me a hypocrite. [More of one. He's aware of his own double standards.]
I honestly can't tell if life would be any better, or if life is meant for a full-tilt pursuit of a given passion. Most people never find their calling at all.
It's something I've- well. I think about it a lot. The job I'm doing, the situation I'm in.
Apparently, I'm-
[ This is something he hasn't brought up to anyone, anyone else. Not Elias, certainly, and not Martin. Not Tim or Basira and certainly not Daisy. It's something he's struggled with, the very idea of it of course, but also what that means in the long run. Where he's going.]
I'm a very very good Archivist. I don't- that's not- I mean, you understand I'm not trying to-
[ Lark understands. He's sure he doesn't need to explain. He has a feeling Lark had the better part of his 'number' as it were well before now.]
The problem is, I don't even know what that means. At least, not in- not how it translates to my... abilities. Or whether things will go differently than... than how they went for the previous Archivist.
[ There's no other way to put that. Sometimes, he thinks of it as murder. Other times as an execution. It's certainly difficult not to think of it that way, given the cold and precise manner of her death.]
Three shots to the torso.
[ He presses his lips tight for a moment, wondering if he should mention it. It's relevant, but-]
She was, apparently, going to destroy the Archives. Her and... Jurgen Leitner.
[Maybe it's not a bad idea, if it's possible. Lark is increasingly doubtful that it could ever be done in a single lifetime.] What does that have to do with balance?
Because that was what Gertrude wanted. Or- or what it seems like she spent her life working towards.
[ And this is something that's bothered him for a while, something that's been niggling at the back of his head since he found out about the first ritual that Gertrude had stopped. Since he heard what the Entities did, how they worked- story after story of lives destroyed, people scarred. Or worse, taken. And Gertrude. Gertrude working for fifty years, preparing and knowing and watching to stop the rituals, using every account, every statement given to her like puzzle pieces.
Pieces. Instead of people. All in an effort to maintain balance. To keep the world exactly as it was, unchanged and unchanging. To keep it churning bodies just to keep it running for the rest of them. The needs of the many etcetera etcetera but how many?
How many more.
And all that while, she gave up pieces. Gave up her assistants. Gave up Gerry. Gave up her 'conscience', by her own telling. And who knew what else she gave up, over all those years? All while carefully measuring. All while planning. All while considering each and every tactical advantage and doing what was necessary for an immediate gain that would nevertheless equate to a zero sum game: the world as it was.
Balance as a microcosm. Balance as a macrocosm.
Was it all worth it?]
If you really care. If you really want something. If you really believe in something, if you know your path... what's the point of halfway?
Because even when you set out with one goal, one wish, one thing in mind...and even if you're devoting all of yourself to it, something else can sneak in. Even the robots here aren't built to be impervious to it.
And when you end up with two equally vital things-- losing either one would be giving up on something irreplaceable in you, because you realize that no one thing can ever bring to life all of you. So you can't stop, and you can't cut either one in half. You have to just find a way to keep juggling them, or better, to integrate them.
[ He wants to have an intelligent discussion on this topic, because it seems like... like Lark has a lot to say, a lot he feels on it. He wants to be able to discuss the intricacies of this, but the fact of the matter is that he can't. That experience is- it's alien to him, completely.]
I've only ever had one.
It's... changed, shifted a little. [ He considers for a moment. ] I've gained a better understanding of it, gotten my hands more firmly around what it is when for so long it was just a- just a nameless yearning.
[ He presses his lips together. ]
But I can't understand the idea of anything outside of it. Anything that doesn't... fold into it, when I'm being truly honest with myself. Anything important, anyway.
[ His voice is... it doesn't crack but the hair-line fractures are there all the same. It's not pain, exactly. Just... confusion. And something very like horror that it could even be possible.]
[Lark is ashamed that he can't say that with any force. That it comes as a near-whisper, as if he's as superstitious as a kid around a campfire. But he hears the way Jon's voice snaps, ever so slightly, and knows that if he tried to speak up the words would choke him.
But he has to say it. It's like warning the Titanic about ice bergs it can't yet see.]
[His voice is a little stronger, as if that will somehow make his point more clear.]
There is more to lose. And I hope you get to leave before that happens. The second you start thinking you're at the bottom here, Jon? The Admiral will take away your body. And when you think, at least you have your thoughts, he'll take those too.
There is always more to lose here. He will give you something just so he can take it away, if he has to.
[ He hears you, Lark. He hears every word, and he is- it's there, in his voice, clear as day: he is absolutely terrified of it. He's thought before that things couldn't get worse, that the world couldn't get any darker and he's seen it happen. There's so much to be afraid of in his world. But-]
But I can't-
[ He won't repeat it. That's just- unkind. Unfair. But even then, that's not right. It's not true. Instead-]
If you mean the real price is being stripped down, or being alone...maybe you're right. But I hope you never forget Merton's take on prophecy.
You won't be alone here, anyway. Whatever goes on at home, this place is a different kind of hell. You're helping no one if you tempt it, and you're making things worse if you ignore the few good things it does give.
[ And that... hurts. The first time, the real first time that Lark's misunderstood him. And on something so deep, so clear to him.
Don't bite. Don't run. Don't hunger. He might as well ask Lark any of those. Or all of them.
Maybe it's his fault, though. Maybe- maybe he just hasn't explained. Or maybe there is no explanation. Maybe there's something wrong with him, has been something wrong with him since well before he started being changed by something outside of his world.
There's a hollowness to his voice but even then, even now, he's still trying.]
I have... no intention of ignoring what gifts this place might give, Lark. I'm not a fool.
And I have no desire to be... alone.
[ Just a terrible tendency to be anyway. Mostly because it meant that he wasn't putting people in harm's way.]
I know you don't. [There are people here, have been others too, who have wanted to be alone. It's usually temporary. The Admiral doesn't bring on board anyone who is truly solitary. But more than that, Lark has seen Jon's desire to have friends, to make connections.
Just like he can hear now that the conversation is off track.]
[ There's the soft, low sound of his breath out, a relief that Lark caught that and a mild panic because he's not used to anyone caring even if they did. And the idea of apologizing-
To him?]
Asking. Not asking.
[ That's not enough, is it? No, he'll try again.]
It's like telling you not to bite. Not to run. Not to hunt.
[ A breath out.]
You asked, earlier. The price for my answers.
[ He hopes Lark understands this time. He doesn't know how else to put it.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
private audio
To paraphrase a certain meme: the risk is calculated but he is terrible at math most days.]
I shall have to endeavor to be worthy of your company then. Given... given that I know it's not... it's not an unconsidered difficulty.
[ He really can't dig into anyone's head
at least not yetbut he remembers their discussion, he remembers the question about being a telepath, and he knows Lark as a predator, someone constantly evaluating threats to themselves and those they claim as their own. He's under, well, less illusions than might be assumed about the people here, any of them really, but especially one who has been through the kind of madness this place subjects people to for as long as Lark has. The place is designed to unmake people, just from what he's seen in his short time. And Lark has survived it even without any exit but a path that satisfies his captors.He thinks his own path will be in the opposite direction, but he's no more keen to satisfy Elias than he thinks Lark is to satisfy the Admiral and he has more faith in Lark than himself on this one.]
I won't throw your gifts in your face again, Lark. I won't- I can't consider whatever 'wardening' I'm here to do over the safety and well being of the people here, especially those who are just as trapped as the people I'm here to help.
Saying what I said, while you were still covered in blood, while there were bodies on the ground-
It was cruel. And I won't repeat the mistake. You deserve that, at the very least.
[ And, lightly, soft-]
You are one of my assistants as well, now. After all.
private audio
Being on the Barge has given him plenty of cynical expectations, it seems, because he listens to Jon start to finish in dumbfounded silence.
Frankly, Lark doesn't deserve many apologies. And he receives close to none of those he does earn. He doesn't ever go looking for someone else's 'sorry' and yet, having one now, it's...moving. Very.
He swallows hard and asks with just a slight rasp of feeling in his voice:]
What changed your mind?
private audio
[ His words are quiet, thoughtful. Not so much careful as deliberate. Chosen. ]
I'm going to be a monster, whether I like it or not. But... it's up to me to choose what kind of monster I'm going to be.
I won't let Elias choose it.
And I won't let the Admiral choose it either.
Which means... being the man- the person I want to be, regardless of... regardless of anything else. And I like to think that person... that person concerns himself first and foremost with the people in front of him. The things he can directly do something about. Which, [ this comes with a mild chuckle ] is the people of the barge, for the foreseeable future.
private audio
Controlling the monsters we become is the single most important thing we can ever do, in my opinion.
private audio
I thought you might understand. I'm... glad... you understand.
And I certainly agree.
[ A pause before. ]
Is there anything I can do to... help you get some rest? You sound tired.
private audio
But there is one thing.]
Is there any balance for you? Working to contain the Leitners, and living?
private audio
There's not much to... balance. Honestly.
Never really has been.
Not for a long time now.
private audio
I honestly can't tell if life would be any better, or if life is meant for a full-tilt pursuit of a given passion. Most people never find their calling at all.
no subject
It's something I've- well. I think about it a lot. The job I'm doing, the situation I'm in.
Apparently, I'm-
[ This is something he hasn't brought up to anyone, anyone else. Not Elias, certainly, and not Martin. Not Tim or Basira and certainly not Daisy. It's something he's struggled with, the very idea of it of course, but also what that means in the long run. Where he's going.]
I'm a very very good Archivist. I don't- that's not- I mean, you understand I'm not trying to-
[ Lark understands. He's sure he doesn't need to explain. He has a feeling Lark had the better part of his 'number' as it were well before now.]
The problem is, I don't even know what that means. At least, not in- not how it translates to my... abilities. Or whether things will go differently than... than how they went for the previous Archivist.
And thus if a balance is... wise.
no subject
And he has thoughts, but he holds them back until he knows a little more.]
What happened to the previous Archivist?
no subject
[ There's no other way to put that. Sometimes, he thinks of it as murder. Other times as an execution. It's certainly difficult not to think of it that way, given the cold and precise manner of her death.]
Three shots to the torso.
[ He presses his lips tight for a moment, wondering if he should mention it. It's relevant, but-]
She was, apparently, going to destroy the Archives. Her and... Jurgen Leitner.
no subject
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[ And this is something that's bothered him for a while, something that's been niggling at the back of his head since he found out about the first ritual that Gertrude had stopped. Since he heard what the Entities did, how they worked- story after story of lives destroyed, people scarred. Or worse, taken. And Gertrude. Gertrude working for fifty years, preparing and knowing and watching to stop the rituals, using every account, every statement given to her like puzzle pieces.
Pieces. Instead of people. All in an effort to maintain balance. To keep the world exactly as it was, unchanged and unchanging. To keep it churning bodies just to keep it running for the rest of them. The needs of the many etcetera etcetera but how many?
How many more.
And all that while, she gave up pieces. Gave up her assistants. Gave up Gerry. Gave up her 'conscience', by her own telling. And who knew what else she gave up, over all those years? All while carefully measuring. All while planning. All while considering each and every tactical advantage and doing what was necessary for an immediate gain that would nevertheless equate to a zero sum game: the world as it was.
Balance as a microcosm. Balance as a macrocosm.
Was it all worth it?]
If you really care. If you really want something. If you really believe in something, if you know your path... what's the point of halfway?
no subject
And when you end up with two equally vital things-- losing either one would be giving up on something irreplaceable in you, because you realize that no one thing can ever bring to life all of you. So you can't stop, and you can't cut either one in half. You have to just find a way to keep juggling them, or better, to integrate them.
no subject
I've only ever had one.
It's... changed, shifted a little. [ He considers for a moment. ] I've gained a better understanding of it, gotten my hands more firmly around what it is when for so long it was just a- just a nameless yearning.
[ He presses his lips together. ]
But I can't understand the idea of anything outside of it. Anything that doesn't... fold into it, when I'm being truly honest with myself. Anything important, anyway.
no subject
no subject
What else could I lose?
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[Lark is ashamed that he can't say that with any force. That it comes as a near-whisper, as if he's as superstitious as a kid around a campfire. But he hears the way Jon's voice snaps, ever so slightly, and knows that if he tried to speak up the words would choke him.
But he has to say it. It's like warning the Titanic about ice bergs it can't yet see.]
no subject
It's gentle. Not with placation. With a truth he know Lark will understand immediately]
I won't ask you. I promise.
[ But he'll ask. He'll always ask. That's just who he is. He can't help that.]
no subject
There is more to lose. And I hope you get to leave before that happens. The second you start thinking you're at the bottom here, Jon? The Admiral will take away your body. And when you think, at least you have your thoughts, he'll take those too.
There is always more to lose here. He will give you something just so he can take it away, if he has to.
no subject
[ He hears you, Lark. He hears every word, and he is- it's there, in his voice, clear as day: he is absolutely terrified of it. He's thought before that things couldn't get worse, that the world couldn't get any darker and he's seen it happen. There's so much to be afraid of in his world. But-]
But I can't-
[ He won't repeat it. That's just- unkind. Unfair. But even then, that's not right. It's not true. Instead-]
It's who I am.
It's what I am.
[ A breath, a heartbeat, before-]
Maybe that's the real price.
no subject
You won't be alone here, anyway. Whatever goes on at home, this place is a different kind of hell. You're helping no one if you tempt it, and you're making things worse if you ignore the few good things it does give.
no subject
Don't bite. Don't run. Don't hunger. He might as well ask Lark any of those. Or all of them.
Maybe it's his fault, though. Maybe- maybe he just hasn't explained. Or maybe there is no explanation. Maybe there's something wrong with him, has been something wrong with him since well before he started being changed by something outside of his world.
There's a hollowness to his voice but even then, even now, he's still trying.]
I have... no intention of ignoring what gifts this place might give, Lark. I'm not a fool.
And I have no desire to be... alone.
[ Just a terrible tendency to be anyway. Mostly because it meant that he wasn't putting people in harm's way.]
no subject
Just like he can hear now that the conversation is off track.]
Tell me what I got wrong just now?
[It isn't a challenge, it's an apology.]
no subject
To him?]
Asking. Not asking.
[ That's not enough, is it? No, he'll try again.]
It's like telling you not to bite. Not to run. Not to hunt.
[ A breath out.]
You asked, earlier. The price for my answers.
[ He hopes Lark understands this time. He doesn't know how else to put it.]
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