An Internal Dialogue
| An Internal Dialogue | |
|---|---|
| Date of Cutscene: | 24 April 2013 |
| Location: | The Dream Realm |
| Synopsis: | Isaac dreams. |
| Cast of Characters: | Isaac Hanlon, ??? |
Nothing in front of him. Nothing beneath his feet. Nothing behind. Just him, not quite floating, not quite falling. It should be terrifying, or disorienting... but it's nothing of the sort.
Sometimes, the nothingness can be sort of peaceful.
But not that peaceful. "This again," he mutters. Isaac closes his eyes, takes a breath. When he opens them, he's sitting on a shard of rock, a chunk of worked stone jutting out of the side of a massive structure that terminates just above eye level. Nothing grows up the ruin, nor around it. When he looks over the edge, he just sees the blackness far below.
The sound of a shoe scuffing against the stone is barely audible. He doesn't have to turn around to know who it is. He looks out into the blackness, hunting for a horizon. It takes his mind off things for a moment more.
The presence stands behind him, looming by its mere inclusion in this place. A prickling grows at the back of his neck, turning into an itch. He sighs silently, and finally, very slightly, turns his head to the side. "Do you live here or something?" he asks irritably.
The second figure steps up alongside him. His reply comes smoothly and easily, in a voice accustomed to a tone of general amusement. "Is there anywhere else?"
"Yeah. Someone else's head. Mine's kind of..." Isaac glances back into the darkness. "Out of order."
"I know. I am, after all, standing here with you, aren't I? Well, so to speak," he asides. "You took a risk." The other voice sounds like it's shrugging. "It might be something of an endearing quality in you, that courage. Have you rethought holding onto it?"
Isaac turns. He looks up at the second person on the stone ledge, a scowl on his face. His companion, such as these things are measured, is smiling in a way that might be called enigmatically. He shrugs a little as if to adjust the cape around his shoulders. The material is of a dark enough shade of blue to almost be black, and it still stands out against the pitch backdrop. He reaches a pale hand up to brush a lock of long black hair out of his eye, and still it falls in his face.
"I thought not." The young man looks out into the distance. "You'll have to contend with that, then, you know. It won't simply go away."
"Shut up, Albireo," Isaac mutters.
"I wouldn't be here if you didn't want my opinion. Just think of me as the angel on your shoulder." Albireo steps up to the edge. He looks down, cape fluttering in a breeze Isaac neither heard nor felt. He turns sideways, stepping along a narrow ridge that runs half the length of the broken monument. "But it /is/ interesting, isn't it? The way these things turn out. It reminds me of a book I once read --"
"Mercade never wrote anything, Albireo," Isaac interrupts, looking back into the void. His voice is hollow. "He didn't have time."
"Didn't he? I rather think he did. All the time in the world, if you will. More than he could have hoped." He turns on the ledge, deftly twisting all the way around and balancing precariously on one foot. "You're living on the razor's edge, Mr. Hanlon. Isaac. I won't say you've bitten off more than you can chew -- I've been there during Sunday breakfast at that bar after all -- but, well, Chaos is..." He sucks a breath through his teeth.
"What?" Isaac looks up with a start. "What did you say?"
"Garland," he replies, enunciating clearly. "I said 'Garland is,' followed by an ellipses. He's more than a man in armor, you know. Of /course/ you know, he showed you, didn't he?" His voice softens a touch. "You made an assumption, incorrectly, I might add, for perhaps the first time in your life. You paid for it. Next time, you won't make the same mistake."
Isaac frowns a little. He stares at Albireo for a long moment before he finally asks, "Why do you say that?"
The young caped man halts in his balancing act. He smiles a little off-kilter. "Why, because I have faith in you." He takes a step to the left, off the platform. He begins to fall, the sound of laughter trailing behind. Isaac jerks, starting to reach a hand out for him and catching himself. He lowers his hand, watching the man plummet.
"Now I /know/ this isn't real," Isaac mutters. "Albireo's never given me a straight answer in his life."
He turns back to the curtain of blackness, once more hunting for a horizon that will never be.
