"So I offered him the chance to change wardens, and he said no. He didn't trust me any more, but he'd rather not go through the trouble."
He corrects, holding him back.
"I couldn't do it. I couldn't be there, doing nothing for him. And he'd been abandoned by so many people that me insisting would have fucked him up badly. It was break him out, get demoted, or get left forever in this dead end relationship of him drowning slowly while I idly watch and try to encourage him to talk about his feelings. And if this doesn't resonate, you aren't paying attention."
"If you're expecting it to, you aren't either," Elijah remarks. "I haven't
been abandoned by anyone. My trauma does not seem as...deeply seated. And
I don't consider my relationship with you to have been damaged, although I
appreciate the reverse is true."
"I don't know if we even have a relationship, Elijah. I'm socially inept at the best of times, and you're fucking impenetrable? For all I know I could just be someone who brings you food and trusts you a convenient amount?"
Because;
"Apparently I'm definitely not someone whose welfare matters to you."
He points out, with a shake of his head. Doesn't count.
"I've insinuated myself into your calendar, and accomplished very little else. Gortys loves you, and I can tell you care about her? Jesus, Rhys is free- sometimes the whole dating an inmate thing works great."
We talk by common consent, Elijah doesn't say. We talk because I
agree to participate. We talk because you're extremely intelligent and in
spite of myself, I enjoy it.
"Even if there was any guarantee that my next warden would be someone I
would choose, and we both appreciate that there is not - do you really
think my better option would be one of two people whose...affection for me
might color their judgement?"
"I don't accept your apology because I cannot accept your culpability,"
Elijah says crisply. "There is nothing you did that would have made me
more likely to respond to the given situations in the way that I had."
"I don't talk to you because you insist on it," he goes on. "If I didn't
want to speak to you, I simply wouldn't, regardless of proximity. Over
time, Rhys' extroversion would grate on me and Gortys' inability to be
actively confrontational would allow me to settle into old patterns without
challenge. The availability of bio-cybernetics would always have led me
to experiment without regards to the ethics, because I had never approached
any experiment from an ethical standpoint."
He says, breathing out hard enough that it's almost a laugh.
"Look, would you please begin? You don't have to agree with it, just take it as an intellectual exercise. As a muscle you're developing in advance of graduation, even if you don't organically perceive the need for it right now. Hippocratic oath. Full and informed consent."
Elijah blinks slowly. Honestly, this whole experience is...novel. He's
never had to consider the consequences of his actions on anything but an
abstract, macroscopic level. He could watch the riots and discontent on TV
from a hundred miles away, and then turn it off and enjoy the endless
silence of his estate. Up against the raw face of Quentin's betrayal,
exposed without barriers to his pain and anger, it's...
Unsettling.
He glances at his communicator, his message to Barnes; yes. He's doing
that. Call it a lesson in aversion if nothing else.
"No. As I told him, I'm willing to do the work and I don't plan on taking
advantage, but I would consider your permission to be a favor to him, not
to me."
He's built hundreds of cybernetic hands. Could do it in his sleep.
"I'm incredibly bored," Elijah says, first off. "And judging from the
literature I've found that I believe is from your world, I think I'd be
able to develop a reasonable degree of aptitude. Being able to defend
myself without weapons would also be useful."
"I'd be happy to work with him, although again I might need some medical
support. I assume you've told him that I can't be trusted and will in all
likelihood use the opportunity to my own ends."
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He corrects, holding him back.
"I couldn't do it. I couldn't be there, doing nothing for him. And he'd been abandoned by so many people that me insisting would have fucked him up badly. It was break him out, get demoted, or get left forever in this dead end relationship of him drowning slowly while I idly watch and try to encourage him to talk about his feelings. And if this doesn't resonate, you aren't paying attention."
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"If you're expecting it to, you aren't either," Elijah remarks. "I haven't been abandoned by anyone. My trauma does not seem as...deeply seated. And I don't consider my relationship with you to have been damaged, although I appreciate the reverse is true."
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Because;
"Apparently I'm definitely not someone whose welfare matters to you."
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Trusted, he thinks, but again doesn't bother.
"...We talk," Elijah points out. "That's more of a relationship than I've had with anyone I haven't personally created in the previous decade."
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He points out, with a shake of his head. Doesn't count.
"I've insinuated myself into your calendar, and accomplished very little else. Gortys loves you, and I can tell you care about her? Jesus, Rhys is free- sometimes the whole dating an inmate thing works great."
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We talk by common consent, Elijah doesn't say. We talk because I agree to participate. We talk because you're extremely intelligent and in spite of myself, I enjoy it.
"Even if there was any guarantee that my next warden would be someone I would choose, and we both appreciate that there is not - do you really think my better option would be one of two people whose...affection for me might color their judgement?"
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Sinking down, deeply unhappy and uncertain, completely unaware of the reassurances Elijah isn't offering out loud.
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"You didn't see that my - trauma - would push me to a point where I would take advantage of you."
He sips his water.
"I can't fault you for that. Until I realized I had an opportunity, I didn't either."
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He says, and swallows, hard.
"I'm sorry."
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"I don't accept your apology because I cannot accept your culpability," Elijah says crisply. "There is nothing you did that would have made me more likely to respond to the given situations in the way that I had."
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"I don't talk to you because you insist on it," he goes on. "If I didn't want to speak to you, I simply wouldn't, regardless of proximity. Over time, Rhys' extroversion would grate on me and Gortys' inability to be actively confrontational would allow me to settle into old patterns without challenge. The availability of bio-cybernetics would always have led me to experiment without regards to the ethics, because I had never approached any experiment from an ethical standpoint."
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He says, breathing out hard enough that it's almost a laugh.
"Look, would you please begin? You don't have to agree with it, just take it as an intellectual exercise. As a muscle you're developing in advance of graduation, even if you don't organically perceive the need for it right now. Hippocratic oath. Full and informed consent."
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Elijah blinks slowly. Honestly, this whole experience is...novel. He's never had to consider the consequences of his actions on anything but an abstract, macroscopic level. He could watch the riots and discontent on TV from a hundred miles away, and then turn it off and enjoy the endless silence of his estate. Up against the raw face of Quentin's betrayal, exposed without barriers to his pain and anger, it's...
Unsettling.
He glances at his communicator, his message to Barnes; yes. He's doing that. Call it a lesson in aversion if nothing else.
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He decides, into that blink.
"But if you accept that this is a useful wardening relationship, you should think about giving that advice a go."
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"Very well."
He rolls his shoulders, feeling an unpleasant stiffness in his spine.
"...I do have a request, if you're willing."
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No carte blanche, but he'll keep an open mind.
"Is it to do with Kepler?"
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"No. As I told him, I'm willing to do the work and I don't plan on taking advantage, but I would consider your permission to be a favor to him, not to me."
He's built hundreds of cybernetic hands. Could do it in his sleep.
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He's really listening, now.
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"I understand that your variety of magic has more to do with study and application than any innate talent," he says. "I'd be interested in learning."
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Not a no, or an interrogation, just genuine curiosity at the surprising request.
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"I'm incredibly bored," Elijah says, first off. "And judging from the literature I've found that I believe is from your world, I think I'd be able to develop a reasonable degree of aptitude. Being able to defend myself without weapons would also be useful."
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He decides, with a nod.
"What do you want to do about Kepler?"
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"I'd be happy to work with him, although again I might need some medical support. I assume you've told him that I can't be trusted and will in all likelihood use the opportunity to my own ends."
No sarcasm or accusation, he's just checking.
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So, there's that;
"Meet with him, you, Rhys and Harry?"
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