Hm. Well, they could only get so far using other people as fuel.
[hah. that's some dramatic irony. Gordon would love that.
(Gordon also loved giving his heroes a glimmer of hope before burying him with grief. Skulduggery's just trying to avoid thinking about that similarity...)]
I was sort of hoping that memory would be the puzzle piece we needed. I can't help but think there's a reason why certain memories are cropping up...
[a pause. bending the corner of a page to save his place, he places the book on the ground.]
... I don't know. Something like... [he brings a hand up to his chest, then slowly balls it into a tight fist.] Like the first few seconds after pain stops, when you're waiting for it to begin again.
[he asked because he was worried the memories were from what's hidden inside the ship. he could say his relief is pragmatic; that he's glad to see the Captain take possession of a memory, that it helps to know there's a connection there. but the truth is, he is simply relieved to know that old memories can still conjure up some feeling. he knows now that when he's gone, hopefully four-hundred years in the future, the Captain will still remember this. him. and he can damn well make himself more memorable than any individual pain. he will never truly be able to outweigh the bad with the good, but at least he'll be remembered for his attempt to balance the scale.
...and, if all of this resolves with the Captain becoming someone new, who may not care to spend another four centuries with a skeletal fortune cookie, then at least he can be fondly remembered for this. he'd said he would do anything to bring the Captain back to himself. he hadn't really considered what that might entail, but a promise is a promise.
when he speaks, his voice is low, rough, with an edge of playfulness to hide his thoughts.]
This is your last chance to interrogate me before I become thoroughly distracted from my investigation.
[more selfish relief. talk is as dangerous as it is cheap, and the Captain's skin provides ample distraction.
he could snap his fingers and whisk them both away from clothes and the familiar trappings of the bridge, but he is a sucker for taking it slow. the Captain's ribbon tie first, the top two buttons of his shirt...]
I think we could use a change of scenery. Any requests? Besides anywhere with a bed and less clothing?
[he contemplates it as he finishes undoing his shirt buttons. he hasn't felt homesick in months, but the memories have brought sentimentality to the fore. he may not get to share the real thing with the Captain, but his memory is strong enough to bring a sample of it here.
he pushes gently, and the back of the couch is gone. instead of the familiar mess of the bridge or the room from the Midnight Hotel, there's long green grass cutting through a field of yellow flowers. sheer vertical cliffs draw off into the distance, towering 200 meters over a blue sea. for a moment, the sky is gray and misty, before clearing like a time-lapsed video.]
[he turns his head to observe the changes, eyes darting to take in every possible detail. reaches a hand out to trace a flower. somehow manages to not make a crack about roots.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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I'm sorry.
[no amount of sympathy will change the past, though. ...present circumstances excluded.]
Do you remember what she was trying to do?
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[hah. that's some dramatic irony. Gordon would love that.
(Gordon also loved giving his heroes a glimmer of hope before burying him with grief. Skulduggery's just trying to avoid thinking about that similarity...)]
I was sort of hoping that memory would be the puzzle piece we needed. I can't help but think there's a reason why certain memories are cropping up...
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It doesn't feel particularly important to me.
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No, I guess not.
[he turns away from the stacks to look at him.]
Does it feel like anything, when you think about those memories? Do you feel anything?
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... I don't know. Something like... [he brings a hand up to his chest, then slowly balls it into a tight fist.] Like the first few seconds after pain stops, when you're waiting for it to begin again.
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(trying very hard not to think about burning thatch and Serpine laughing at him.)]
I wish there was a way to ease that ache, but instead, I'll just be glad you still feel it. You've been around a long time and given up too much.
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[...]
It's awful. I can see why I always tried to avoid it.
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[he could say that the pain makes the nice memories all the sweeter, or that it can be turned into motivation to change.
he moves back to the couch.]
I don't know if enough time can pass for it to ever stop aching. But it's part of you, whether you've forgotten it or not.
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You sound like a fortune cookie.
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Oh, shut up. The point I'm getting at is... I love you. All of you. Including those painful parts.
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And I love a fortune cookie.
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[look he's going to try to turn it into a flirtatious comment, even if it falls flat on its cookie face.]
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Anything particular coming to mind?
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... Maybe.
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...and, if all of this resolves with the Captain becoming someone new, who may not care to spend another four centuries with a skeletal fortune cookie, then at least he can be fondly remembered for this. he'd said he would do anything to bring the Captain back to himself. he hadn't really considered what that might entail, but a promise is a promise.
when he speaks, his voice is low, rough, with an edge of playfulness to hide his thoughts.]
This is your last chance to interrogate me before I become thoroughly distracted from my investigation.
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cw: this is the part when things get spicy
he could snap his fingers and whisk them both away from clothes and the familiar trappings of the bridge, but he is a sucker for taking it slow. the Captain's ribbon tie first, the top two buttons of his shirt...]
I think we could use a change of scenery. Any requests? Besides anywhere with a bed and less clothing?
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he pushes gently, and the back of the couch is gone. instead of the familiar mess of the bridge or the room from the Midnight Hotel, there's long green grass cutting through a field of yellow flowers. sheer vertical cliffs draw off into the distance, towering 200 meters over a blue sea. for a moment, the sky is gray and misty, before clearing like a time-lapsed video.]
Hmmm. That's better.
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It's beautiful.
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he pointedly keeps his sockets directed at the Captain as he skates his fingers up the center of his chest.]
It is.
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