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(no subject)

Who: Quatre, Edgeworth
What: A virus strikes! Quatre and Edgeworth are forced to stay within proximity of each other, lest they become terribly ill.
Where: The Maganac's village and base of operations.
When: Some random point in time.
Warnings: None!

The sun peaked through the curtains of the window, slowly bathing the small bedroom in light. It was a quiet morning; the only sounds that could be heard were those of men and women setting up shops at the market down the hill, and those were only faint echos at best.

It was a day to sleep in--not that Quatre normally did. There was something about this place, though, something peaceful and safe. Everyone knew who he was, just as they did nearly everywhere he went these days, but the Maganac Corps were like family, and so was everyone in the village by proxy. He could forget about politics and disarmament, at least for a moment, which was why--when a sliver of sunlight positioned itself directly over his face--the young man simply winced and rolled over with nothing more than a groan.

He could afford a moment more.

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[That stirred something that had been lurking in the back of his mind since they entered the hangar. He remembered then what Winner's predecessor had claimed was the Gundams' original purpose: indiscriminate slaughter. He stared up at the robot's expressionless face, feeling as though his guts were suddenly doused in ice water.]

Your predecessor indicated they were already re-purposed, in a sense. Strategic military use, while not necessarily desirable, is still a far cry from outright genocide.

[The response catches Quatre off guard. While the Gundams' original purpose isn't a secret among many of the circles he travels in, it isn't common knowledge to most people. That Edgeworth knows is another, surreal reminder that there are people who have interacted with another version of him, who may know certain things about him and his world.

There's no reason to keep secrets anymore, but it is something he's going to have to get used to.]

Yes... Well... [He looks to Sandrock again, then hops from the catwalk onto the platform leading to the cockpit.] They were built for destruction. In that sense, nothing changed. They're still a symbol of war.

[Edgeworth stops at the catwalk, staunchly keeping his eyes off the ground far below.]

Symbols have a tendency to become far more dangerous than the objects they grow from.

[As he says it he sees both truths in the statement. In peace time, the real danger of this thing lies in its symbolism and not its neutral parts. Hesitantly, he follows Winner onto the platform. He can't keep the fear from flaring again, but this time the height and the cramped cockpit ahead are solely to blame.]

[And when those objects are dangerous themselves, it leaves few options for their future, Quatre mentally adds, though he only nods in response. The eventual destruction of the Gundams seems inevitable to him, given the political climate and the current needs of society; he's certain the others have come to the same conclusion. It's only a matter of time before their mere existence becomes a threat to peace.

It hurts, but it's necessary.

Keeping his thoughts to himself, he takes the only available seat, leaving standing room for Edgeworth on either side. He smiles apologetically.]

Sorry for the lack of room. You can sit once I have the computer running.

[Whatever blood is left in Edgeworth's face finally drains. Hoping against hope that running the computer won't necessitate closing the door, he carefully takes his place on the boy's right side. He has to hunch his shoulders uncomfortably to get in.]

[In response to the man's rising panic, Quatre casts a sideways glance at him. Perhaps it isn't the height (or at least not exclusively) that he finds so distressing.

To give fair warning--and an out, if Edgeworth wishes--Quatre lets him know:]

I'll have to close the door now.

[Edgeworth's jaw clenches, but he nods stiffly at the boy. He casts one last longing look at the world outside then starts exploring the cockpit with his eyes, hoping the myriad screens and panels will provide some distraction for him to focus on.]

[With the press of a button, the door closes smoothly, revealing two widescreen monitors. Darkness lasts for only a moment, before the power kicks on with a whir of electricity. The screens--four of them in total, with the other two on either side of the cockpit--flicker to life, although only the two in front display what appears to be a web browser. (The side screens afford a live view of the hangar outside.)

Quatre pulls up the community and then stands, stepping aside as well as he can in such a cramped space. At least he doesn't have to hunch.

He smiles and inclines his head, indicating that Edgeworth should sit.]

[Despite all his mental preparation, when the darkness descends panic comes too close to overtaking him. Edgeworth clenches his fingers on the edge of the boy's seat, breathing so heavily that he's sure the sound is filling the entire cabin.]

[Then there is light shocking his sight, and on either side they're treated to views of the people moving around the hangar below them. It's enough to pull him back from the brink (though not nearly as far back as he would have preferred). He stares at one of the hangar images, wrestling his vital signs back into more reasonable levels, until Winner's movement draws his attention. Words still won't come to him, but he gives the boy an awkward nod and hesitantly settles into the seat he vacated.]

[Quatre hopes that sitting, as well as being given a view of the hangar, will help to alleviate the feeling of being closed in.

He gestures to the controls then, both to explain and in an effort to occupy the man's mind.]

There are scroll buttons on the armrests, as well as touch pads. If you need to type something, press that, [he points to a yellow button] and the keyboard panel will open.

Edited 2012-08-20 02:14 (UTC)

[He follows the instructions intently, giving it all of his focus. When he thinks he has it he nods and says quietly] Thank you.

[For the next few minutes he stumbles through the process of bringing up the community. Perhaps unsurprisingly, it's already logged into his account when the page opens. He does a quick scan of the most recent posts, going faster as he gets used to the controls, then starts to write up a post of his own.]

[Every once in a while he shoots a long look at the screen on the side, grounding himself with the sight of the wide open hangar he'll be able to get back to soon.]

[Quatre patiently waits for him to finish. He turns and crouches against the side of the seat, keeping his eyes on the view of the hangar, so as not to intrude on Edgeworth's privacy.]

[The boy needn't have bothered. In such close quarters, Edgeworth wasn't planning to write anything he didn't want Winner to see. The post he makes is locked to his circle of friends. It consists of a request that Wright or anyone else who has access to his apartment should take care of Sigi's basic needs until he's home, and for someone to contact Gumshoe to handle things with his office if it becomes necessary.]

[He doesn't wait for a reply. As soon as the post goes through he turns to Winner and says a bit hurriedly] Things should be taken care of now. ...Thank you.

[Quatre stands and nods; his abilities aren't needed to sense the underlying gratitude in Edgeworth's words, though it goes unremarked.]

Sorry for the trouble. I suppose I should start keeping a laptop with me, in case something like this happens again. Here--

[He punches a code into the keys on the armrest closest to him; the screens in front slide up with the door as it opens, offering a view of the outside world again.]

[Winner's abilities likely aren't needed to sense the supreme relief that comes over Edgeworth at the sight of the door opening. His entire manner changes, tension falling away as he hurries to his feet and ducks out onto the platform. Once freed of the metal confines (how can anyone stand to spend any amount of time in what amounts to barely more than a metal coffin?) he's able to respond with something approaching normality. He turns back to peer inside the cockpit.]

[dryly] I could see that saving you a lot of trouble.

[Quatre follows him out with an apologetic smile.]

I've never had to deal with anything quite like the community before. Here there are multiple ways to contact people with relative ease, so I've never felt the need to bring my laptop when I'm not on certain business. That's easy enough to fix, though.

Edited 2012-08-20 21:47 (UTC)

If you had dealt with anything like the community before, I would be extremely concerned. [He offers the boy a wry smirk, but it doesn't quite reach his eyes. The momentary relief he felt on escaping one harrowing situation is fading in the face of the last harrowing situation yet to come.]

It is its own entity, isn't it?

[The message gets across. Quatre hurries onto the catwalk and heads towards the elevator, attempting to make this as quick as humanly possible.]

Singularly so.

[Edgeworth guesses at Winner's intent and again can't quite quell the wave of gratitude. Steeling himself, he follows at a hurried pace, not eager to get into the elevator but desperate to get out of it.]

Even those members who live lives that would be considered bizarre and outlandish by average standards seem to be stumped by the community's workings.

[The elevator is still positioned at the second story platform. With a push of the call button, the doors open, and Quatre steps in.]

I wonder if it's even possible to get to the root of its origins...

[Edgeworth follows, his pace slowing a bit before he enters the elevator. Just as before, his emotions will reveal the mounting fear he struggles to keep off his face as the elevator moves.]

If there's one thing the community has taught me, it's that nothing is impossible. ...But so far it doesn't seem to be possible for anyone that's made the effort.

[The distinct waves of Edgeworth's emotions are coming together in Quatre's mind, like puzzle pieces. It isn't something he can help; much like it's impossible not to build an impression of someone based on what they show you, it's all but impossible for him not to build an impression of their motivations based on what they feel. Acrophobia, claustrophobia... These seem likely candidates for the man's distress, given the pattern.

Again, though, Quatre keeps his observations to himself.

He nods in response.]

I've heard. Do you know what methods have been used?

[He throws an apologetic look at the boy.] All I can tell you is that they were beyond my ken. I believe one of them was a hacker with skills worlds above anyone on my world. There may have been one or two others, and...one of my colleagues spent some time inside the community's...coding or something. I'm not at all clear on how that worked.

[As he's talking, one hand slowly creeps to the crook of his other arm and starts worrying the fabric of his shirt. He doesn't notice the gesture himself, but the rubbing beats in time with his singing nerves.]

[Fortunately for Edgeworth, the elevator has almost reached the end of its descent. Quatre keeps the conversation going, serving the dual purpose of satisfying his curiosity and trying to keep the man focused.]

Inside...? [Although tangentially related at best, the ZERO System springs to mind, and the gears immediately start turning.] Ah. I wonder...

Edited 2012-08-21 01:57 (UTC)

[By this point he's practically counting down the seconds until the car comes to a stop and the doors open. Still, he's handling this ride better than the first, probably due to the worst experience now being behind him. He's aware enough to grab on to Winner's musing.]

Wonder what?