asgardchrysalis | o2; Discovery [Closed]

Entry tags:

o2; Discovery [Closed]

Who: Ariadne (

dataset)
What: Talking about mission stuff
When: April 2
Where: Ariadne's Garden
Warnings: Tiniest bit of blood, Potential Game Spoilers.

It was natural for him to look into strange matters and investigate them. In this case, he had been given something new to investigate involving a strange occurrence with the local lake. The details were sparse. He only knew that the lake exhibited some type of ...abnormality.

The best approach was to interview the witness who initially reported the incident before looking into matters further. In this case, the witness happened to be someone he was casually familiar with: Ariadne. Ariadne said that she could usually be found in her garden, so Connor headed there first to see if she was available for a few questions.

He ducked under a branch and stepped into the garden he had been to a few times before, careful to avoid any of the newly budding strawberry plants. "Ariadne?" It had become a habit to look up into the tree branches overhead first in case she was perched up there.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Seeing a Human--well, Android--climb a tree was a little jarring. It wasn't done much in Valeria. Aside from children, of course. Jarring wasn't such a bad thing, though. At least focusing on Connor, watching him climb, pulled her thoughts away from the fire a little bit.

A very little bit.

"Don't get too close," she warned him. "I don't know if it's going to happen again. I don't want to hurt you. I can't...I can't explain what's happening."

She was no scientist, but there was, of course, the obvious variable in the whole situation.

"Ever since...the gods brought us back..." What? Was she cursed? Changed? Mutated? She didn't feel like any of those things. What she felt was...overwhelmed, more than anything else. But that seemed like a reasonable response to what she and the others had gone through in the cave.

Conscious of her request, he stopped climbing once he reached a limb which seemed sturdy enough to support his weight. Connor sat down and let his feet dangle off the side of the branch. It wasn't close, as she had requested, but he was close enough to where they could continue talking.

He craned his head upward. She couldn't explain what was happening, but she had said that the 'gods had brought her back'. Perhaps that would be a good place to start trying to discern what was going on.

"Brought you back?" He asked. "Brought you back from where?"

She gathered her long, luscious braid over her left shoulder, hugging it against her chest like a security blanket. It was an old habit, one that Aunt Lysia had tried to train her out of, any number of times. Usually, Ariadne was good at remembering her lessons. But at the moment, there was just a little too much buzzing around in her brain to worry about manners.

Anyway, who could begrudge her some comfort?

"After we died in the cave," she said, almost dismissive, assuming that it was somewhat common knowledge.

She really had no idea what people were saying. Connor was actually the first person she'd really conversed with, other than the typical pleasantries of the day.

The response he was expecting in return was a physical place, not to be answered with an impossibility. People like her were tangible beings made of flesh and bone that couldn't just be replaced. So why would she lie and say that she had died?

However, given her current state, he didn't want to aggressively pick apart the logic behind it. Connor calmly responded by saying "But you're here now." Which, in his mind, disproved the former.

"I know," she said. It didn't make much sense to her either, even after hearing Jim talk about the last time the gods had brought him back fro the dead. Important people were raised from the dead. Great people. Legendary people.

People who mattered.

What was she?

Ariadne leaned her cheek against the rough bark of the tree. She liked feeling something living. Something alive. She closed her eyes, letting the tree fortify her. "Jim says this isn't the first time the gods have revived the dead."

If her posture was anything to go by, she seemed to have relaxed a little. Sentences were easier and more coherent. It was progress which hadn't required much in terms of patience. Though death was still something of an impossibility that he had to consider, perhaps, for the moment, he could try to get some concrete details about what had happened instead.

She had mentioned something about a cave. That would be best to start. "Can you tell me about what happened in the cave? That's where this happened, isn't it?"

Ariadne nodded, just slightly. She knew, of course, that she was going to have to talk about it. Not just because the information was important, but because she'd spent enough time watching people to understand the danger of bottling up something like this. Admittedly, now that she was on the other side of the situation, she could definitely see the appeal. But it felt a little selfish. Especially in a place like Asgard.

"When we got there, a group of us went inside," she said. "We passed through some kind of barrier. It allowed us to pass, but wouldn't let us go back the other way." She shrugged. "Magic, I guess. Deeper in the cave, we found a cavern where the missing travelers were sitting around a fire. They were all...sick."

Sick. Sick wasn't specific enough. Ariadne had experienced it all firsthand. And she knew Connor liked details.

"There was this...burn first, like acrid static through the veins. It caused a deep bruising along all of our skins." She ran her splayed fingers up the side of her leg, as if to illustrate. "After about an hour or so, all the muscles tensed up. Taste of metal. Then cramping. And then...numbness. I guess that part was a mercy."

There was a certain level of distance Connor was used to keeping when taking in details of investigations. Information wasn't inherently positive or negative, it was there to help learn what happened and achieve a goal. It always felt distinctly neutral. He always approached matters with that mentality in mind.

This was no different.

The beginning of the description was normal enough. Mention of a group, a barrier, and an illness were items of particular interest. But as he listened to what she described - the various injuries and afflictions - he found himself feeling ...unsettled by what he heard. Connor clasped his hands together in his lap tightly laced his fingers together to try and detract from the feeling. He tried to proceed in spite of the strange feeling bubbling up within him.

"The group didn't..." He canted his head a little, "think to call for assistance?"

"The last thing we wanted to do was trap other people," she said. "Infect them. No. We told them to stay far away. Some of them tried to break the magical barrier but..."

Simple as that? Some of them tried to break the barrier.

No. It had been more than that. It had been a battle between life or death. Only a matter of whose life and whose death was on the line. Ariadne had seen the hope fade from the eyes of those on both sides of the barrier. For her, self sacrifice was the right choice. It was almost easy.

For some of the others...

She cleared her throat, looking down at the charred remains of her raspberry bush. "We eventually called the gods. Asked them to secure the barrier, to make sure the disease stayed inside. That meant us."

There were several details that were still unclear, but Connor clamped his jaw shut in lieu of a response. The more details he got the more distressed he felt. Felt... which implied some sort of emotional reaction.

He glanced down at his hands. What about this situation was any different from other times he dealt with potential death?

It couldn't have been the obvious impossibility of death being temporary for mortal beings. Impossibility in Asgard - though still not acceptable - seemed more and more commonplace. He had grown accustomed to handling the absurdities as they arose. Sometimes, he would have to set them aside to be rationalized later. It was unlikely that it would cause an emotional reaction.

So then...

He lifted his head up and looked to Ariadne with a look of concentration. In humans, an emotional reaction would be caused by some sort of personal attachment to the situation. Connor didn't have any personal attachments to what happened in the cave. The only person he knew in the cave was Ariadne and...

Connor slowly let his gaze drop to the grass down below as the realization sunk in.

...And he'd thought she was an acquaintance. Evidently, He'd become more attached than he realized.

After a long pause, Connor continued without asking any more questions. "I understand your reasoning," That didn't make her a friend, did it? He'd never had friends before. "but I would appreciate it if you would let me know the next time you're in trouble."

It was, without a doubt, the longest she'd ever seen Connor go without speaking. Not that she minded, exactly. Sometimes, there was something comfortable about silence. Even companionable. It was only that she wished she knew what he was thinking. Trying to prove what she'd said happened hadn't actually happened? He liked to explain things in a logical, rational way. Unfortunately, she feared, the only explanation was the outrageous one. She was still having trouble accepting it herself. And she liked to give a lot of leeway when it came to benefit of the doubt.

When he finally started speaking again, she didn't have any closer clue as to what was going through his mind. She was going to have to watch him more carefully in the future. Even he had to have some kind of tell.

...right?

People just did. And Connor, despite his protestations otherwise, was definitely a person.

Which made her answer simple enough. "Like I said, we didn't want anyone else to get sick. That includes you. And...Connor. This plague didn't seem to care about species. It took us all down. Human. Alastrian. Orc. It didn't matter. I would never have forgiven myself if it got you too."

It didn't seem like the right time to insist. Instead, he offered a simple "I appreciate your concern, Ariadne." All things considered, interest in his wellbeing still felt rather novel.

"Do you think what you're experiencing now is a symptom of that illness?" Perhaps she, and all the others, hadn't fully recovered from their ailment.

"I don't remember anything about fire," she said. Or blood turning into fire. Or blood turning into fire and burning down one of her precious plants.

Her head would start spinning again, if she wasn't careful.

She sighed, "I have no idea what they discovered after we..."

Saying it once was hard enough. She wasn't sure she could say it again. Not so soon, anyway. And Connor seemed...

Well, he was something, anyway.

"I don't know," she said. "But I feel just fine, I guess. Aside from being a little horrified right now..."

Though his first thought was that it could be a side effect of the illness and his second thought was about going to investigate the cave, in both instances he stopped himself from voicing those opinions. That feeling within him twisted at the thought of providing indifferent and impersonal ideas like it was a regular case.

Instead, he reacted with concern for her safety. "I'm glad you feel okay. I was worried." Considering the state he had found her in it that seemed reasonable to be concerned.

Gratitude lit up Ariadne's eyes like silver coins. It wasn't that she'd never had anyone concerned for her well-being. Of course she had. But given the nature of her position at court, given the fact that she was always pretending to be something she wasn't, she often had to mask her concerns and pains. It was...nice...not to have to lie. And nice to hear words of compassion.

"Thank you," she said. "I'm sorry if I scared you or something."

She'd scared herself.

Ariadne shook her head a little bit. Feeling more secure than before, she dropped her legs over the side of the branch, holding on with one hand as she lowered herself, to another branch just above Connor. She moved through the tree as easily as if she were just taking a stroll. It was her native habitat, after all.

Having her move closer was a tangible sign of progress. It meant she felt safer than she had and was willing to inch out of her safe haven. If he could continue making progress perhaps they could find themselves on solid ground again.

"Not scared," He clarified. Fear wasn't something he was acutely familiar with, but he was almost certain that it wasn't what he had felt at that point. "But concerned for your well-being." Connor looked up and in her direction. "I'd like to make sure that those issues which were causing you distress are fully resolved."

Saying that felt...right.

"You always have a very roundabout way of saying that you care," she said. "There's no shame in that." Unless there was for Androids, but he hadn't given her the impression that they had any kind of shame culture.

She settled herself on the branch, letting her feet dangle over the side, leaning against the trunk for balance. This was how she used to talk to other Alastrians. Her brothers and sisters. Elves were too dignified to climb trees.

"Anyway, I'm not sure that the issues causing me distress really can be fully resolved..."

If there was anyone stubborn enough to try and solve an unsolvable puzzle, it was Connor. He was created for impossible challenges like that.

"I'm willing to try." There was an optimistic sound to his voice.

"I know you are," she said, giving him a bit of a smile. "But the thing of it is...however you want to explain it...I died."

Maybe he'd assume it was just a really bad coma. It didn't really matter to her if he accepted the notion of resurrection or not. That wasn't the point, anyway. What had happened happened. And it was now, in the aftermath of it, that the real work began.

She whet her lips, giving him a thoughtful look. "May I ask you something? You don't have to answer, if you don't want, I'm just curious. And I think it may help frame the conversation a little bit." She paused, taking a deep breath because she was actually a little nervous to ask him something so personal. "Do you have any...regrets? In life, I mean."

Explaining what she had experienced without concluding that she had died was his intention. There were also issues aside from death, like the fire, which had yet to be resolved.

But it seemed that there was something bothering her which she hadn't yet eluded to: Regrets. It was logical that 'death' would potentially force someone to confront the idea of regrets in their life. Perhaps that was why she had brought it up.

Motivation aside, Connor stilled at the question. If he answered and was asked to elaborate on it, then he would have to explain everything. Everything. If he redirected the question then he could potentially avoid the situation altogether.

It was a very intentional decision when he nodded and said "Yes. I do."

She sensed the kind of trust that he was investing in her, with his answer. It was a difficult question to answer. And even more difficult one to answer honestly. Of course, her natural curiosity meant that she really, really, really wanted to know more about those regrets. Part of the puzzle that was Connor.

But friends weren't puzzles and she wouldn't treat him as such.

All she did was nod. "So, you understand, then. How being faced with your own mortality can make someone start cataloging all of those regrets."

Connor gave her a middling answer. "Those faced with their own mortality tend to look back on their lives and think about what they wish they would have done differently if given the chance."

Which lead to the reason he was being guided down this specific line of questioning. He tapped the tips of his fingers together idly as he carefully broached the subject she was eluding to. "Is that what you were thinking about in the cave? That you wished certain circumstances in your life could have been different?"

"You can't change the circumstances of your life. You can't change the past. That's outside of your control. I think it was the lack of a future that got to me."

Ariadne wasn't sure if that made any sense. But she couldn't clarify it well. Mostly because she was only beginning to put her feelings into words now. There had been no point in talking about it with Jim and the others. They had to deal with their own feelings. Ariadne wasn't going to burden them with hers, not in what they thought might be their last moments.

Perhaps it was wrong to burden Connor too. But he seemed eager to fix her. He needed to understand, she supposed.

"I never thought I had any regrets," she continued. "Now, I feel like I'm a bit haunted. By the life I never led."

It was strange how she talked about her life as if it had ended despite being presently alive. Like she had truly lost something intangible in the cave. It was perplexing.

If she was struggling with that loss in the same way that humans struggled with loss, then he didn't need to remind her that she could still do those things she hadn't done.

Connor looked off. "Can I ask a personal question, Ariadne?" His intention to ask about her life she wanted to lead was almost implied given that was her last statement, but it was polite social etiquette to ask beforehand.

"Of course," Ariadne said.

She was trying to live honestly. It was...liberating, in a lot of ways. But a lot of that, she figured, was luck. She'd lucked out to find herself in a place where no one feared Alastrians. And she'd lucked out, finding people who were as tolerant and open-minded as she tried to be.

For the life of her, she couldn't think of anything Connor could ask that she wouldn't want to answer.

If he did, she supposed she could just lie.

But she doubted that would be necessary.

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