♢ — @bogachs said: “ Dottore, do you have a moment? There is a matter concerning your recent request for funding that I wish to discuss with you. ”
He asks upon setting foot within the Doctor’s laboratory. A cursory glance is enough to reveal that this once bustling, sterile facility is noticeably quieter than usual, no doubt a consequence of the incident involving several segments that had occurred only recently — one of which, however, did not seem to faze the instigator who had just returned from active duty in Sumeru, jubilant with a Gnosis in hand, and who was now standing before him as if nothing had changed. It is only after a brief, irritated murmur of displeasure at the interruption that the Doctor consents to follow him back to his office.
They proceed in silence through the gelid halls, moving in tandem, ‘til they reach his office door and continue past it — the Doctor cant his head in puzzled curiosity at that, a reaction the banker is quick to account for ; “ I’ve been cooped up in my office for longer than I care to admit. Perhaps we could discuss the matter outside while I take a brief respite. You would not object, would you? ” In the moment that follows, they arrive at one of the grand entrances leading to the Palace's rear gardens, its greenery blanketed in fresh snow at this time of year. The Regrator’s lead them both to one of its pavilions, where, beneath its roof, they are sufficiently concealed from the marching troops’ view. He can feel Dottore’s gaze boring into his back as he languidly takes out a pack of cigarettes and lights one, prompting the other to wave a hand through the smoke in quiet annoyance. Pantalone takes a few measured drags of his cigarette, counting out the seconds that follows— just enough for the good Doctor’s patience to erode into irritation, and just enough for the banker to judge whether he will plead guilty of his own volition.
‘ Why did you bring me here? ’
Dottore enquires. He takes another drag.
‘ Pantalone⸺ ’
“ ⸺Now then, let's talk business. ”
He approaches Dottore with elegant ease, moving slowly, ere reaching out his right hand to gently pry the avian mask from his visage. The Doctor carmine irises’ study him with great interest, as though seeking to unravel both the man and his purpose ; that single moment of distraction is enough time to allow him to clench his left hand into a fist and land a clean blow square into the Doctor’s jaw. The force of the impact sends him tumbling backward into the snow. He inhales, glancing down at his left hand, where traces of blood are now visible across his rings. The use of his dominant hand had been deliberate— the metal would inflict damage, and he has always held more strength in a brawl when using his left. If nothing else, the sight of blood is enough to satisfy him that he is not as out of practice as he had feared.
“ Was killing half of your segments a spontaneous decision? ” Amber eyne glance downward at him in disdain, promptly followed by a low, cold chuckle, “ Of course it was. You have always been remarkably poor at understanding yourself. ” The ensuing words are spit out, like bullets, “ After all, you’re impulsively self-destructive, proud yet self-hating. Boredom and dissatisfaction follow you like shadows, born of a nihilism so deep that nothing can truly hold your interest. Every one of your curiosity becomes an obsession, every obsession a disappointment. Nothing satisfies you for long, because beneath it all lies the quiet certainty that nothing in the world truly matters. ” A breath, ( You can only speak of it because you know exactly what it feels like. ) and then, “ Your segments… they were different facets of your history, were they not? With different perspectives and opinions that you had let wander around and be themselves freely. You created advisors out of yourself as a form of legacy, not backups. Yet, you set half of them on fire upon being forced to consciously acknowledge that your past selves could not accept who you had become. It’s all just a petty act of defiance, isn’t it?”
His fingers betray a minute tremble, the abyss of his emotions threatening to break through his marblesque composure. He swallows, compulsively taking another drag, “ I couldn’t find Chi anywhere. Theta didn’t let me into the lab when it happened. He was one of your sacrifices, wasn’t he? Torn apart shortly thereafter by the remaining segments, as though he was nothing more than a meaningless pig— out of sight, out of mind. ” He feels the aftertaste of bile on his tongue, ( You hate how close your voice comes to breaking, for no one hears the weight of your grief ; not Him— absorbed in the grandiose act of his self-rebellion— and certainly not Her ), “ You could never stand to have him near, because he was the most honest of them all. You recoil from your vulnerability as though it is a weakness, dissecting your own emotions before they can ever be felt, like a doctor who can comprehend a wound without ever feeling compelled to soothe it⸺ You used to have emotions, Zandik ; he was the clearest evidence of that. But you cannot accept it. You are too arrogant to do anything other than run from yourself. ” A pause, then his next words ring hollow, vanishing into the empty air ‘round them, “ Believe me: you will not be able to remain a detached observer of yourself forever. One day, the distance you have so carefully maintained will collapse— and every fear, every grief, every longing you have plucked out of yourself instead of felt will come rushing back upon you. And when that day arrives, all your wit, intellect, and carefully cultivated detachment will not spare you from it. ”
He throws the finished butt of his cigarette at Dottore’s feet, his last words delivered in a final, cutting tone. “ I look forward to seeing the look on your face on that day. ” Before turning away and heading back inside, leaving him out to ponder in the cold.
(Hiii so you requested angst... i'm sending what happened after Sumeru because i have a /lot/ of thoughts about that hehe)
EXPERIMENT IN PROGRESS: UNPROMPTED ASKS - ALWAYS ACCEPTING !
A SUBSTANTIAL CHANGE lies within the lab ; the flurry of segments reduced to a handful. The most significant, the most useful, the ones of highest priority designated by a ranking only Prime himself possessed. It is far quieter now, the roar of a river reduced to a more restrained stream by external means. Humans may build WEIRS AND DAMS to shift a river's might and flow. Dottore has himself to create or destroy. A reminder that has been violently thrust upon the segments that survive. For they, too, were left in the dark of what was occurring when they began to drop dead with no seeming reason. It was not an idea predicament, and PRIME FOUND NO DELIGHT IN ALLOWING OMEGA TO PLUCK MANY OF THEIR EYES. But the rewards deemed it a necessary matter. And it would de a lie to say that he did not delight in outwitting a god yet again. the God of Wisdom yet ever to the fool ; all Prime had needed to do was temporarily sever connections so that she might not sense any lingering segments when gazing upon Omega. He will be returning soon, but it is Prime who returns first, and it is Prime reconnects and explains to the survivors what has happened with cold, impersonal efficiency.
It does not mean the other segments are unfazed. Even Beta is quieter than usual. When Pantalone's familiar steps ring out as he steps in the chill of the lab, Beta merely lifts his head from where he's peering over some reports with Prime but says nothing. ( Somewhere to the side there's the click of metal and running water indicating Theta is likely cleaning and sterilizing equipment. But it is still far quieter than it used to be. ) Prime turns as well, frowning in displeasure at the interruption, but agreeing nonetheless. There is no real answer otherwise, not with funding on the line. He mutters something to Beta before striding across the lab with purposeful, measured steps.
He is no fool. SOMETHING IS UP. This deviates from standard behavior and signals a change having been undergone in his absence. The question remains in how so and why.
Skipping the office is rather unexpected even in light of a change, offering only further cloudiness to the true matter beneath the present situation. HE DOESN'T BUY THE EXCUSE PANTALONE OFFERS. It is sound and reasonable from that silver tongue. But it is not Pantalone. His eyes narrow beneath the mask, scrutinizing the collection of oddities yet finding no answer in sight. " I have no objections. " His answer is cordial and curt as they proceed to the doors and into the eternal cold of winter's touch. Rather than speak, it seems the ninth fancies forcing the second bear witness to the disgusting habit of corrupting his own lungs with putrid filth. It earns an annoyed scowl and he grimaces in displeasure at the smoke waved away from himself - despite the fact it will do no harm to him. HE IS GROWING WEARY OF THIS NONSENSE. This game of facades and mysteries purposefully meant to conceal ; of actions and scenery that feel more akin to ACTS IN A PLAY than anything else. But that was Pantalone. Almost always playing a role, except for the moments when he was forced out of it, when Dottore would tear away the script for a brief moment. Unfortunately, this is not one. The best he can do is pick up the pace on the dreadfully stagnant meeting.
THUS HE SPEAKS. Thusly, he is soon to be punished for it. What a familiar rhythm that is.
Dottore does not like for his mask to be pried off anywhere other than in secured privacy. THIS IS NOT THAT. There better be a good reason for it ; a silent warning and threat when gloved fingers pry it away. ( And yet curiosity tinges his gaze still ; the banker and businessman knows this which means there MUST be a good reason lurking below it. ) And there is. IT JUST ISN'T THE KIND OF REASON THAT DOTTORE EXPECTS.
SURPRISE ECLIPSES ALL ELSE AS HE FALLS BACK INTO THE SNOW. Any ordinary person would have certainly yelled or sworn in response, but he says nothing. Half surprise, half because Dottore possess a greatly reduced response to pain. He is aware of it ; of the gashes on his face and the blood and skin that cling to gleaming rings; the blood that swells and spills over broken skin to trail down his face. HE MIGHT HAVE LAUGHED IN OTHER CIRCUMSTANCES ; twisted, delighted laughter to break that act, to pry open the other and see the teeth he keeps behind diplomatic features. But he is more puzzled than anything. Another muddled piece in a collection that he has yet to -
Ah. That was what this was about.
Rather than climb back to his feet, the second opts to lie amongst the snow with a leisurely attitude more fit for being spoiled in luxury than having just been punched. " You are somewhat correct. I did not expect for the god of wisdom to demand it. She finds it rather vile apparently. " Dottore laughs, as harsh and arrogant as the dragons that once roamed the skies and the few that still do. AH, TO BE REJECTED AGAIN. " It was a necessary sacrifice. Not done entirely without consideration. Omega does not possesses the full capabilities to override my own authority, and I still spared THE MOST USEFUL versions of me. " Only then does Dottore sit up, red eyes cast upwards to gold. Somehow, despite being seated, Dottore makes that act of looking UP still seem like looking DOWN. It is not unlike that of a tiger gazing upwards to a sumpter beast - it may be lower but it is not less dangerous or powerful for that fact." Difference facets of the original's history, yes. Just as I am. Segments from myself . . . I am not sure such a thing possible. " It is a good question - one that has UNFORTUNATELY detoured the doctor's eternally questioning mind. " I imagine so, but it would be pointless given my own stagnant perspective. " As such, it is a discarded thought. It is, in fact, more than half of him. Dottore does not correct Pantalone ; it serves no purpose and the other has never met some of the segments that would the greater tragedy all the more apparent. His eyes narrow slightly, less in anger and more like he's SCRUTINIZING the other. " On the contrary, the fact I and some of the other segments remain is the act of defiance that not even a god saw past. " And he is smug even in light of the fury before him. " I took no pleasure in the act, if that is what you so think. " Dottore adds with a dispassionate curve of his lips downwards. " IT WAS A WASTE OF VALUABLE RESOURCES. And a loss of perspectives that, despite being insufferable at times, were nonetheless valuable for my research. " Leave it to Dottore to strip it down to nothing beyond value, though not in the traditional sense of mora. " But Her Majesty wanted them and I have acquired what she sought, all while besting the God of Wisdom. Quite the performance. These are MY lives, of which I can do with as I please, yet you act as if i had cut versions of your life short, not my own. But I in several forms am still here, rendering this tantrum rather odd. "
Dottore's gaze drops to the fingers gripping his mask and how they tremble in uncharacteristic vulnerability. It is not as satisfying a taste in this context. But it does not evoke pity either. " I see now. " It is only now that Dottore rises back out of the snow, brushing it away from his form. " I told you not to get involved with him, yet you insisted. Taking him away, spoiling with attention and lessons. THAT IS THE CONSEQUENCE OF YOUR OWN ARROGANCE, PANTALONE. " Dottore's words are cruel and unminced, even for Pantalone. " Did you not think there was a reason I warned you? That I did not allot him the freedoms given to the others? Chi was always on a timer to a termination date. His sole existence was for the pursuit of Aranara, who only favor children, and to study dreams. I did not forsee his termination in this manner, but he was a dying segment from the moment of creation. I warned you as a form of kindness and you chose to ignore it. " It was kindness gone unheeded under belief it was mere cruely, and now the consequences had come to reap what was sown. " Torn apart? " That elicits a response closer to surprise at the suggestion. " Why would we do that? He's too small for anything to be of use salvaging unlike the other segments. " He does elaborate on what became of him. Mercy or cruelty? Dottore did not bother himself with wasting ideas or time over such an insignificant dilemma. If he was asked, he might answer. If not? Then it would remain unknown.
THE APATHY CRACKS. Dottore sneers, spine straightening - though the marginal height he has on the other is of little matter and Dottore has never been one for posturing, meaning this is mere byproduct. " YOU of all people having the audacity to try to lecture me on seeing vulnerability as a weakness? " Dottore laughs, vicious and pointed as he glowers at the others. " As if you're not cut from the same cloth. You are the same, with all your facades and acts, the masks you wear and the lies you tell and the truths you hide. You lash out if something so much as slips around me, rushing to bury truths that appear and fix your mask. Even the idea of a real name, though you know well I do not care about such matters. And yet you stand here daring to try criticizing me for it? " He steps closer, a prowl of a beast drawing nearer to something is is eyeing up. " Should I enlighten you to the obvious then? Like why Beta still snarls? " Can you not figure it out? A taunt and challenged tucked into words. " If you wish to play that game, then we are both subjects to that behavior, but we express it in different ways. At least I recognize it, distasteful as I might find it. " Does he? That is a question for another time. " But you hide and pretend it doesn't exist. That you can erase it all. Always grappling for control to cover for it, so you never need fear that something slips out or exposes itself. I am no fool, Pantalone. I am well aware of the absence and I am not blinded by pretty words, but I accept it all the same for your sake moreso than mine. Because of all people, you should know better than others that I do not care over such matters."
A leather-clad hand reaches out and wraps tightly around Pantalone's wrist with enough force that there will be bruises and an ache - yet it barely seems like anything to the second - his muscles not straining under the effort. Breaking bones would be easy, though he does not seek to inflict that harm yet. It is a silent reminder that Dottore is not a beast tamed, that danger still remains. Except that is not Dottore's goal. His alone is plucking his mask from the nimble fingers that have been grasping it all this time. " I SINCERELY DOUBT THAT SUCH A DAY WILL ARRIVE. " Prime replies, voice cool and calm again, though the tension in his jaw remains. He has long discarded such matters like fears and grief and he cannot fathom a predicament that might summon them back. Death does not scare him when he lives in defiance of it. The fierce brightness of his gaze has not dimmed. " So you say. But I wonder how true that will really be? " Dottore does not waver in his gaze. " Not in your act, I have no doubt that if only in spite you will act as such. And if not for that, then image. The day I permanently die will certainly be a celebration, and should you live long enough to see it, it would reflect poorly on you to be upset. You would never allow for it. " There will be no one who cries for his death. Dottore has known this truth for centuries. Not even of himself. " But deep down, if it should happen, will you really be satisfied? Delighted? Perhaps you truly could celebrate with the rest of the world. " One final rejection.
Dottore releases his grip, stepping aside while he slides the mask back into place. He does not follow as the other leaves. A surge of wind howls with vicious intensity, carrying with it a flurry of snow as Dottore draws in an icy breath. It was a harsh land indeed.
