Barok van Zieks (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
discourtesies) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
songerein2022-12-05 12:41 am
discourtesies) wrote in songerein2022-12-05 12:41 am
Entry tags:
open ⚔️ cold
Who: A plush prosecutor & dreamwalkers
Which: Interactive dream
What: A sad Nyan Zieks in the snow...
Warnings: Huge spoilers for Great Ace Attorney 2! Like literally the last 10 minutes of the game or something.
[It's the dead of winter for the residents of a particular brick flat, a blond man lounging on a red couch next to a roaring fireplace as a pink-pigtailed girl of ten years taps away on her typewriter. He turns his attention to a box of toys in her corner of the suite, in particular a felt toy with a top hat and cape, a peculiar cross stitched over its nose.]
My dear Iris, don't you think that old doll is rather... ratty?
[The girl perks up with some curiosity, turning to where the purple cat lies. After a moment of consideration, she picks it up carefully in her gloved hands, as if with some distaste.]
Hmm... it is unpleasant-looking, isn't it? [With that declaration, she nods her head with confidence, offering it to the man.] Could you get rid of it, please, Hurley?
[Acquiescing to the girl's request, he rolls off the couch to his feet and strides over to accept it, holding it up to briefly acknowledge the toy.]
That's goodbye to Mr. Reaper, then. [With a casual, fluid motion, the man opens the window and simply tosses the doll out into the snow, closing it soon after to keep out the bitter cold.
But then—doll begins to stir, struggling to move its limbs out of the white pile and get to its feet. It can't quite make it that far, but it manages to lift its head and watch as the man and girl smile at each other before both busying themselves with the company that appears—a moustached man in a hat and slick suit first, then a man with a dark ponytail, and another man in red regalia accompanying a woman with long, curly hair—all of them pleased to be there, clearly smiling with the pair of residents even as their faces blur, indistinct.
A pathetic wheeze leaves the stuffed cat as it trembles:]
W-wait...
Which: Interactive dream
What: A sad Nyan Zieks in the snow...
Warnings: Huge spoilers for Great Ace Attorney 2! Like literally the last 10 minutes of the game or something.
[It's the dead of winter for the residents of a particular brick flat, a blond man lounging on a red couch next to a roaring fireplace as a pink-pigtailed girl of ten years taps away on her typewriter. He turns his attention to a box of toys in her corner of the suite, in particular a felt toy with a top hat and cape, a peculiar cross stitched over its nose.]
My dear Iris, don't you think that old doll is rather... ratty?
[The girl perks up with some curiosity, turning to where the purple cat lies. After a moment of consideration, she picks it up carefully in her gloved hands, as if with some distaste.]
Hmm... it is unpleasant-looking, isn't it? [With that declaration, she nods her head with confidence, offering it to the man.] Could you get rid of it, please, Hurley?
[Acquiescing to the girl's request, he rolls off the couch to his feet and strides over to accept it, holding it up to briefly acknowledge the toy.]
That's goodbye to Mr. Reaper, then. [With a casual, fluid motion, the man opens the window and simply tosses the doll out into the snow, closing it soon after to keep out the bitter cold.
But then—doll begins to stir, struggling to move its limbs out of the white pile and get to its feet. It can't quite make it that far, but it manages to lift its head and watch as the man and girl smile at each other before both busying themselves with the company that appears—a moustached man in a hat and slick suit first, then a man with a dark ponytail, and another man in red regalia accompanying a woman with long, curly hair—all of them pleased to be there, clearly smiling with the pair of residents even as their faces blur, indistinct.
A pathetic wheeze leaves the stuffed cat as it trembles:]
W-wait...
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Her droopy ears start to twitch, like the cat’s plea is awakening something in her. Her eyes blink, and her gradual movements shake off the snow like dust. ]
Oh…m, my head…
[ Her voice quivers with cold, but then the brain fog starts to lift. She still can’t make sense of anything; but as she tries, a familiar laughter erupts from inside 221B, causing it to feel like electricity was just sent through her body. ]
…?!
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What did I... do wrong...?
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[ Her eyes close, as if she's trying to pick out the voice she can hear. Mr Sholmes, certainly. Iris, definitely. But then there are some she doesn't recognize. A feeling of dread washes over her like a cold waterfall, and when she opens her eyes, she can see the beaten cat, stretching out its paw.
That voice. She knows that voice? (Doesn't she?)
Shaking off the snow from her head and the flowers that adorn it, she hops to his side, voice quivering. ]
Lord... Lord van Zieks? I, Is that you?
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His voice is uncharacteristically small.]
You should be inside.
[Shouldn't she? Or—perhaps she'll only temporarily be left out before the moustached doctor comes to retrieve her. Or perhaps, unlike him, she'll be able to climb back in through her own power.]
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Despite that, however, she can't do nothing. Neither of them are in great shape, but she will still try to help him to his feet so that they might seek some shelter together, even if it can't be in that place. She still remembers the feeling, leaving the flat for the last time--luggage in tow. ]
No...
[ Was her father among the voices? Was Ryunosuke? It doesn't matter. In her mind, they think she's already set sail from the Port of Dover. ]
By now, they will have already forgotten about me.
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They will return... for you.
[She was accepted for quite some time, after all—loved, even. A temporary absence would do little to make them forget their affection for her. Meanwhile... was the scarred doll ever more than a simple novelty for the girl inside? He thinks not.]
They only discarded you due to your proximity to me.
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I am still waiting.
[ For father. For Mr Sholmes...
But this shouldn't be about her. Not only her, at least. ]
Come. We can at least find our way out of the snow together.
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He turns to look down the cold street. The windows have fogged over, removing any details of the inhabitants from view, and the sound of their conversation becomes more faint. For van Zieks, at least, the possibilities there have long been lost, but the knowledge does little to help him move forward.]
... You must lead. [But he will step where she directs them, even if he's ashamed to rely on her.]
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[ Susato finds herself looking longingly at 221B. A part of her has come to view it as her home, but in the moment, she feels as alienated as Barok does. Perhaps it is an merely effect of the dreamscape shaped by Barok's emotions, but she doesn't feel like she can go back there now.
Susato doesn't waste her energy replying and instead just moves in next to him and helps him forward as they both struggle against the snow.
The flowers at her ears start to glow, as if trying to guide the way, but it's clear they won't make it too far. Amidst the howl of the wind, hurried footsteps sound as someone rushes past to get into the store just ahead of them. ]
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The ground seems to shake with each step of the passerby and their hurry creates enough of a disturbance in the air to almost catch that cloak and upend them, but van Zieks at least manages to stay upright with Susato's support—and funnily enough, bracing himself briefly against the pile of snow they're working through.
And how lucky it is for them that those footsteps have left a much more navigable path, and that the door to that shop stays open a crack—just enough for two small dolls to squeeze through.]
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Lord van Zieks' cloak will get caught on the door as it closes with a bell chime, giving them something of a surprise as they attempt to distance themselves further from the snow and cold. ]
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Urgh—
[Well... it's less cold in here with the door shut, even if he's shut in it. On the upside, he won't be toppling over until he's removed from said door. The cloak is already worn down, so it's more likely to rip than stay in one piece, even if his attempts to tug at it were at full strength.]
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[ Susato is still in the lead, and thus feels the resistance quickly. She panics, struggling to to free him, before the door opens once more with that same chime, thus allowing them inside. The force from her tugging causes her to fall back once this happens, though at the very least, she only lands on her back (and shockingly, no one steps on her or even takes notice).
...... ]
S, Sorry. [ Though despite everything, she feels relieved. Even the floor seems warmer here, though at this point, anything would.
She struggles to her little bunny feet. ]
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... why did he never tell me?
[Later, he will berate himself for not attempting to aid her immediately despite no part of the dream being truly his conscious doing. His paws come to his face, but it seems like he can't decide whether to cover his eyes or grasp his fur.]
None of them did. Secrets... upon secrets. Why?
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[ Despite the fact that this...seems to be coming from out of nowhere, Susato knows. Somehow she knows exactly what he is talking about, and it is a struggle not to collapse back onto the floor under the weight of it. ]
Secrets... I...
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I hate secrets. But...
[ She's realizing for the first time how much she can relate to him. Even before all that, Kazuma never told her of his true intentions in Great Britain. Someone she saw as a brother figure, keeping dark secrets about something sinister, it should make her skin crawl to know he was a part of it. ]
Perhaps... Perhaps he didn't know how.
[ Was that an excuse...? She can't speak for Klint. ]
Perhaps he did not want to tarnish your image of him so completely.
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And in so doing... he cut away my own flesh and blood.
[His voice is a whisper, but there's more than simple defeat in him; simmering beneath for so long but now coming to the surface is an undeniable anger. It first manifests as a hardness to his tone, a stiffness to his shoulders. He shakes his head.]
I can see now my own brother did not trust me. Did not think I would do what was right and still love him despite everything—never gave me the chance to prove that I could. The others only made certain that the damage was complete, maintaining the bars that kept me chained to my miserable solitude.
[Van Zieks remembers the dream where he was shackled to a false memory. However it was brought on, the violence within was merely a reflection of the harm those lies had caused—through others and himself. He will never deny his own role, his own faults, but for not one of them to reach out... Genshin. Lady Baskerville. Mikotoba and Sholmes.]
Did they think me a naive fool? ... A heartless demon?
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She'd gotten that chance, to love unconditionally. But only because she reached for it and twisted his arm. She struggled with what that might mean for her, that she could love a murderer. Maybe she still does... but on some level, knowing that someone like Barok could feel the same brings her comfort, even if this dream isn't about her. ]
No... it is not that. And... I do not believe it was about trust, either.
[ Her voice falls, and she speaks just as softly with a surprising amount of composure, considering she feels like she is on the verge of tears. ]
He was afraid. He feared his own depravity, and his own demons that bested him. He feared that you... someone with so much love and admiration for him, would not be able to look past it. Or perhaps... he simply did not want to put you in that position to begin with.
Either way, he died with regret for that decision. He asked for your forgiveness, even if he felt you would never understand.
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And if I cannot forgive him? Or any of them?
[That's the ironic part—because he can understand Klint's motivations, having watched his brother so closely for all his life. His brother had become obsessed with his own sense of justice at the expense of all else, and it spelled his doom. But he was far from the only one affected by the act.]
Would that make me deserving of the past decade, removed from the truth of my family?
[Is the regret of the dead enough? Do those who've yet to pass feel any for their part?]
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No... [ After being rendered speechless for a moment, she speaks, ] No, of course not. Nobody deserved what Mael Stronghart put you through.
[ The Asogis. The van Zieks. Daley Vigil. Tobias Gregson. How many lives, ruined, taken? ]
You are all victims.
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He wonders if he'll ever find that sort of acknowledgement outside these few companions, once the truth reaches the public—or if he'll be vilified once again as a new type of scapegoat. In truth, he'd almost rather disappear.
He allows himself another moment of weakness; the stitched scar across his nose meets the shoulder of the companion trying so hard to keep him upright.]
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...and eventually, her back reaches the floor. There's a squeaking noise, though she can't tell whether it was from something inside one of them, or whether she'd involuntarily made the sound herself. Before they can find out, she can feel a foot kick against her back.
It's about time they caught the attention of some passersby, she supposes. ]
Hmm? Hey, how'd you get here? [ For some reason, Susato feels the urge to stay completely still
this is a toy story au. ] They yours, Windibank?no subject
The purveyor of the pawn shop doesn't seem to recognize the dolls, but dismissively remarks that they must have fallen off a shelf while he was attending to his books. Perhaps the customer would be so kind as to place them back?]
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[ The gentleman speaks dismissively, though he has picked up both dolls has requested to take a closer look at them, whether he means to or not. He stares at them for a moment, this lonely cat and rabbit, then shrugs as as she places them on the highest shelf he can reach. ]
Anyway.
[ He saunters towards the counter... Susato stares, noting how they have quite a vantage point of the store from here.
...Then after a moment, when the gentleman are out of earshot, Susato turns to nyan Zieks. ]
Are you alright?
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[For a few moments, it seems as if Barok isn't going to respond, as if he might be overly cautious about the two people in the shop spotting them. The fact that his ears turn backwards after her question and remain that way may indicate the true reason, however.]
... Pray forgive the discourtesy of burdening you with such unnecessary [
feelings—wait wrong prosecutor] things...(no subject)
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