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week 5; drowning our problems in liquor
[the walk is heavy, weighted with the morning's tragedies.
it's getting to all of them; he knows that. barnham looking two roommates in a row, and finding their bodies. noct trying to lay low and get through this alive while helping everyone else as much as possible. not that it's working, not when people he cares about keep getting hurt physically and emotionally.
he's felt all this pain before. he's felt it so much that his chest aches watching other people suffer through it. he wanted to prevent this. this is exactly what he's been trying so hard to find a way to stop this. to stop more deaths, to stop more people from suffering losses of their friends, their families, and whatever else may be in-between. it isn't fair.
life isn't fair, and he knows that but this is especially unfair in ways that he just can't comprehend.
but right now, for barnham's sake. he's trying to keep it together. he's trying to keep a hold on his emotions, but as it had once before in his life, it ends up being him holding those feelings in his chest. it's him trying to shove it down because he doesn't have a choice. he has to keep going, people need his help, even though he doesn't know if he can help them at all. he doesn't even feel like he can't help barnham, which is why the silence feels so heavy.]
So, um... [it's like before, and he knows that barnham doesn't want anything resembling his pity. even as they open the door to the saloon and head inside, all he can do is admit, weakly and with the most hollow undertone of a laugh.] Guess it's a little early for happy hour.
it's getting to all of them; he knows that. barnham looking two roommates in a row, and finding their bodies. noct trying to lay low and get through this alive while helping everyone else as much as possible. not that it's working, not when people he cares about keep getting hurt physically and emotionally.
he's felt all this pain before. he's felt it so much that his chest aches watching other people suffer through it. he wanted to prevent this. this is exactly what he's been trying so hard to find a way to stop this. to stop more deaths, to stop more people from suffering losses of their friends, their families, and whatever else may be in-between. it isn't fair.
life isn't fair, and he knows that but this is especially unfair in ways that he just can't comprehend.
but right now, for barnham's sake. he's trying to keep it together. he's trying to keep a hold on his emotions, but as it had once before in his life, it ends up being him holding those feelings in his chest. it's him trying to shove it down because he doesn't have a choice. he has to keep going, people need his help, even though he doesn't know if he can help them at all. he doesn't even feel like he can't help barnham, which is why the silence feels so heavy.]
So, um... [it's like before, and he knows that barnham doesn't want anything resembling his pity. even as they open the door to the saloon and head inside, all he can do is admit, weakly and with the most hollow undertone of a laugh.] Guess it's a little early for happy hour.
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He'd been scared.
When Barnham remembers how scared Russell had admitted to, he wants to break things.
Like a coward, he'd returned to his room at curfew, and he'd allowed Russell to die. That death, at least, was firmly on his hands.
Shakily, he breathes out, and then he grabs the first alcohol he can over the counter. He'll at least pour himself a glance--and then he quirks an eyebrow at Noct.]
Do you intend to drink as well, or are you simply here to be certain I do not do anything stupid?
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they probably talked.
and obviously along with that is the fact that barnham was forced to deal with his roommate being the stocks and reality that came with it.
—he knows all barnham really wants to do is right his wrongs and help those he can. he wants to fight for what is just and be the sort of knight that exemplifies what that means.
he needs to protect that somehow and make sure that even if he bends, he doesn't break.
but for now, he just sighs to himself, nodding his head.]
We're drinking buddies today. Drinking alone's what makes you a drunkard, right?
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Is that how it works? Well, perhaps you are right.
[Barnham's admittedly not had much cause to drink before this, though he'd join his men on occasion in the tavern. But... like this it's something completely different.
This is to cope, and it doesn't feel all that great.
Not that anything does in this hell hole, of course, but Barnham's at least critically aware that he's hardly doing himself any favors here. (Why is he even here--what is he even doing here? Is someone taking some sort of amusement from this?)]
That child... Russell. When he arrived, he had no desire to live. He did not care what happened to him, and I felt that was... concerning.
[Barnham pinches the bridge of his nose.]
... Last night, he was afraid for his life. He learned to care if he lived or died--
[... Just in time to die.
Dammit.]
He was just a child.
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and admittedly, being a bit suspicious of his behavior at the last trial, despite there not being anything definitively incriminating may have colored his view a bit. but it's clear that barnham sees things a bit differently. and really, it makes him a little more inclined to believe in it.
his head dips a little as he considers it, and there's something he can't help but to point out as he takes a sip from his glass.]
Whoever's doing this... they're really going for the low-hanging fruit. [there's something about it specifically that...]
The stocks... it's always kids in there. [or teenagers, but they're technically kids too, it's fine.]
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'Tis one of us.
[...]
One of us who chooses who goes in the stocks. There would be no point behind the Sheriff doing do. The drama, however, of having one of our own putting us there...
[... Fuck.]
And this person plays right into it, and chooses those who cannot defend themselves.
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[pretty exactly, not that he's surprised that a guy like barnham would pick it out.]
But...
[there's more to it that's questionable, right?] An adult in there would be defenseless too. But the oldest person who was in there was... Annabeth or Shinnosuke.
[and that's what he means by low-hanging fruit.] Making vulnerable people more vulnerable. I don't think that's a coincidence either. Doing it like that... it's weird.
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[Someone who is doing it... to pick out the people who are already vulnerable, and making them more so.]
They must know fully well... that person is likely to die.
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[it really, really gets under his skin.] It's messed up. It's so messed up.
[turning people into defenseless targets like that. even if not everyone died that way—it still isn't fair, right?]
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[There's... gotta, right... this keeps happening and it sucks]
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[but that's equally difficult, that he's learned well enough from the previous weeks.]
It's risky, though. Being out there at night. It a target, and... I know I'm not equipped for it in this place, either.
[without any of his weapons or abilities—the things that would be likely to save him from falling prey to an attack. and if he can't protect himself, then it's just a wasted effort on the whole.]
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Honestly. And barnham is immediately shaking his head, grimacing.]
No, do not stay out after curfew. That is asking... simply to die as well.
[They all know this by now.]
I fear we are approaching this entire...situation wrongly, Young Noctis. I fear we have been all along.
[He sighs, shaking his head.]
It is a game, and we must treat it as such. If we are to protect those who are in the stocks... it must be done within the rules.
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[he frowns; that doesn't make it any easier. he's been "going along" to some extent, in that he isn't actively rebelling against the system or trying to break the rules.
he's been trying to do everything within his power to try and circumvent or find away around it, but that hasn't exactly worked, either. so he just sighs quietly, sipping from his glass.]
Do you have any idea what we should do?
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[It's said with dry, almost black humor, even as Barnham takes another drink of his own drink.
Ugh.
He has no idea, and he feels like really, he should know. But he doesn't.]
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[obviously, noctis believes in that too—there isn't any reason for him not to. he'd hoped, even if faintly...
that maybe barnham came up with some crazy idea that they could try.
but apparently that's not to be, so noct just sort of lets his head dip, taking a swing from the glass. he's not going to get drunk, but this is a hard time, he's not going to hesitate to drink like he might have before.]
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If only.
It's a shame the world doesn't really work that way, and the way Noct's head dips makes him grimace in turn. He's supposed to be someone who can come up with these ideas.
But after all of this time... he has nothing.]
I apologize...for that.
[For not meeting up to expectations.
For not having what they both need--what all of them need right now.]
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[it's not something noctis wants apologies for—that's not fair to either of them.]
Not like I've been any help, either.
[what has he helped at all since the day he showed up here?
(nothing, the answer is nothing.)]
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A fun story.
Full of joy.]
... [He sighs.]
It is knowledge that evades us. Knowledge that would allow us to finish this.
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[they can't give up now.
noct is certain of that, even if his resolve doesn't appear to be quite where it needs to be just yet.]
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[He just lifts his glass, arching his eyebrows at Noct.
TAKE A BREAK... take a breather.]
I assure you, we can and shall return to this soon.
[They need a break.]
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[they need a break. and a nap. but barnham's right—they should probably let it go for now and get their minds off everything that happened.
it can't be doom and gloom all the time, no matter how easy it is to fall into that. noctis knows better—
so they can drink for now instead and put their concerns aside until the morning, when things will undeniably get worse.
(so, so much worse.)]