outer_divide | (no subject)

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[Private to Dylan | Audio]*

[Sent as soon as he returns, though he's not sure when Dylan will get it or what the range of the communicators is.]

I've returned. The Southern City didn't have many resources. The construction of the dome damaged its economy. I suspect most of the fishermen left are generational. The people there were notably friendlier to outsiders than the ones here, but of course their homes are at less risk from air raids from the domes.

[And sent a bit later.]

If you hear reports of fog, stay way until it's cleared. Or purchase the first gas mask you can manage.

[Private to Sma | Audio]

I want to speak with you. In person. [Where the conversation can't be recorded.]

*OOC: Slightly backdated to fog times.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Are you still along the route of the river? [At least they're still good at making excuses.]

Yeah. I moved uphill from the bank, just in case the fog decides to roll up the riverbed, but I'm still within sight of the river.

[He doesn't respond again. Instead he leaves and heads up the bank before the fog can roll in, following the course of the river. All the while, he's mulling over the thought that he doesn't want to voice. He supposes they'll have to discuss it at some point- he can't have been the only one who has thought it.

It takes him about an hour and a half to near Dylan's position because he's in a bit of a rush to get there. And he doesn't immediately see him.]

[Dylan sees Gaheris near the river before Gaheris sees him. He's glad for it (and a bit dismayed that he's glad for it), but there's still a piece of him in the back of his mind that wonders if he's going to end up shot in the back if he's not careful. He steps out from the trees and waves his arm to catch his attention.]

[If he knew he'd be somewhere between proud and disappointed. But now he just eagerly made his way over to Dylan, wearing his civilian clothes but saluting him and walking with a military air anyway.]

Captain.

[It was as if he was clinging to a last shard of civilization himself.]

Should we start back or wait here a while?

[Dylan nods in acknowledgement at the salute. It's nice seeing military discipline, but also a bit strange after a year and a half with a crew that very emphatically refuses to conform to anything resembling a military standard.]

Let's wait here until we're absolutely sure the fog is cleared out. I don't want to accidentally breath that stuff in. I might start singing Than courtship songs and then you'd be in trouble.

[Sad that it has to come with the face of someone who betrayed him.]

I don't know if I could resist your charms. [He raises a brow, quietly amused as he makes his way up the bank.]

Once you heard my singing you'd resist pretty fast.

I have heard your singing, Dylan. I don't know if you were in a state to remember...

[He makes it up to him and looks back toward the fog-covered city. Then just sits down, if they're going to wait a while. If it gets dark, they can light a fire.]

If it weren't for your Nietzschean metabolism, you'd probably be lucky enough to not remember, too.

[Dylan sits down as well, leans back against the trunk of a tree, and hopes they don't run into any large dinosaurs.]

I saw sea monsters in the lake. Not a good place for swimming.

Sea monsters.

[Well. That goes to figure. His brows raise lightly and folds his arms to rest on his knees.]

The children in the South wanted to see my boneblades. They were very excited to see outsiders. They weren't afraid at all.

[He sounds endeared, rather than ridiculing their lack of hesitance. To him they seemed very adventurous and brave.]

Next time we'll switch. You get sea monsters, I get happy children.

Only if there are mermaids.

I wasn't nearly so lucky. Mostly they looked like plesiosaurs.

Good to know that the environment can support megafauna.

[This is more comfortable than arguing. Especially with whatever weight Dylan carries now- the arguments have an edge to them that they didn't have before.]

I ran into Diziet. [He arranged a meeting with her.] Have you met, yet? Tall, rounded features, extra joint on all of her fingers?

I just hope we never run into the big cousins of those little dinosaurs you hunted.

Diziet. [He doesn't recognize the name, but he's seen a very pretty woman who fits the description Rhade gives.] I think I've seen her around, but we haven't spoken.

I didn't see any of the larger ones, but I'd hate to try to get that much meat to Edmund. [And he shifts to go sit by Dylan and lean his back against the tree.]

She's some variety of subspecies too. But not one of ours. [Which still baffles him.]

Oh, I'm sure you'd figure out a way. Can't let a little problem like two tons of dinosaur weight defeat you.

[Dylan tilts his head back and thinks of the people he's seen.]

If we've got people from alternate realities here, maybe she's from one where the subspecies developed differently.

It's funny, aside from the two AIs everyone looks human or human subspecies. No Thans or Perseids or Vedrans. Or Magog. [That last he's mostly grateful about although he misses Rev Bem.] I wonder if the ship was programmed with some sort of preference.

If it was set for a standard physiology, then perhaps. But we may be a small sampling.

[He picks up a piece of wood, thinking about starting to build a fire. He still doesn't want to give voice to the thought, but... there's no one else here he could really mention it to.]

I have vaguely considered the possibility we may be duplicates.

[And he can't think of much else to add to that.

Because if they are, does that mean that anything they've done or will do no longer matters? Is he actually a Nietzschean or a clone? Does that mean if they did find a way home, they'd just find themselves. And what would he do with himself?

He could still correct things, if what Dylan has told him is true.]

Well... [Dylan puffs out a breath.] ...that's a hell of a possibility. [Not impossible by any stretch but...if it were true, what would they do with themselves?]

Unless we stumble across some way of testing for it, we might as well work under the assumption that we're exactly who we think we are.

[He hums a response of agreement, but he idea really bothers him. Though he could very easily replace himself if sent back. Even go so far as to declare the original the duplicate and the traitor and take his place in his life.

He closes his eyes for a moment. When he did start hating himself that much? What a poor Nietzschean he's turning out to make.]

I'll go get us some kindling for a fire. [He gets up to do this.]

[Dylan, meanwhile, thinks that if he's just a duplicate, then there's some other Dylan out there building the Commonwealth, fighting off the Magog, and captaining Andromeda. And if that's true, he doesn't know what he'd do. He feels the desire to set the universe right...but if he's a duplicate then some other Dylan already has that job. He'd be left with all the feelings of responsibility and no clear outlet.]

I'll start clearing away the brush and digging a pit.

I'll stay within sight. [Which is well advised, since the dinosaurs aren't the only large animals they should have to worry about.

He picks up an arm full of wood in relative silence, though. To the point that it's getting awkward, and he knows that it's getting awkward.] Shepherd seems assertive. [Just something offered conversationally.]

[Clearing an area of dead leaves and twigs is a quick job, but digging a fire pit is a little more time consuming, especially since Dylan doesn't have any real digging tools. So it's a sharp stick to break up the hard dirt and his hands to move it.]

Hm. She's very forceful. [Dylan likes her. She's hot.]

[Poor Dylan, scraping at the ground like a dog. It's almost a little- alright, Rhade shouldn't enjoy that. He acts like a good subordinate when he returns with the wood and stoops to help him clear the area.]

Kara is more casual but no less unyielding. [She's hot too.] She asked me about the chess set I was making.

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