robopriest | PC WITH ANAXAGORAS

[ Today has been a dreadfully long day, so of course Anaxagoras thinks that it's very well a good opportunity to relax. He turns to see the expression on the other man's face.

A smile that may appear as just that, but the typical lightness absent, as if dimmed by time in a dark cavern. Reasonable, because what happened is no happy affair, but it makes him want to ensure...he won't bottle it up, either. ]

My choice of drink is typically nowhere near light. If you're the type to tend towards that sort, you'll likely hardly be happy with it.

[ He's a heavyweight drinker indeed. But he will begin to grab the bottle in preparation because he believes he knows Hansa's answer. ]

...I'd also like to hear your thoughts, Hansa. It looks like there's much on your mind.

Please. I'll take it. I'm no lightweight.

[He doesn't make it a habit of drinking or anything, but tonight calls for a different approach. He'll reach for the bottle, sighing at the question.]

[Where does he even begin?]

It's a mess. First, we appear in this place, now we're made to do a trial to figure out who's the culprit for a murder. There's no logic to any of this.

...Somehow, I imagined that would be the case.

[ Anaxagoras allows him the bottle, naturally, handing it over carefully, but he will also be generous enough to slide over a glass to Hansa.

He watches him for a bit longer, but his gaze on him is one of understanding. ]

No logic, no sense...and, we still know almost nothing about it all.

It's a mess, indeed. There's nothing wrong in saying that. Though neither of us are the type to give up in difficult situations - I know this - it is a pain to muddle through uncertainty in the face of copious nonsense.

...I'd been hoping that the oddities meant whatever darkness was lurking would have revealed itself so we could take it down as well. Quite a pain it still hides, hm?

[ He downs a heavy gulp of his drink. ]

I just want one thing to make sense. Just one.

[Instead, more questions. He's no investigator. He's the person who uses the network to get the information he needs to come in and finish it all.]

[He's pouring himself a glass, knocking back a swallow without a wince.]

But we're just still in the mist of this nonsense. I can't even figure a way out of here. Neither do those puppets. I wonder if we should even put our trust in them at all.

...Not even the sky here makes much sense.

I've been taking the time to catalogue the stars. They're unrecognizable to me; and each night, it looks slightly different to my eye. A little shift.

Not that I'm certain what that means, either.

[ Another false sky? Who knows. Of course, Anaxagoras plans to look into it. Like he always does.

But also, he feels like them slamming down criticism on everything else is an excellent way to spend time. Though, all the while Hansa is indeed proving that he can hold his liquor well. ]

It'd be wise to rely on ourselves first and foremost, until they can prove we can trust them. They claim that it is we who must prove we are not a threat, but...have they considered that whatever else they know could help us in figuring out something more tangible? Hmph. Perhaps I also was counting too much on them being more logical than not.

But, I am also no fool. What is the point in considering relying on someone else when they refuse to show proper reliability?

Of course you'd pay attention to the sky. You big nerd.

[Said good-naturedly. Of course Anaxa would look at the stars. He's that type of man.]

[It's an interesting observation, too.]

Exactly. [He's leaning forward on the counter, leaning his chin on his hand.] It has to be tit for tat. Not tit for nothing at all.

[Something has to give. And now it gave with blood, it seems.]

The more the distrust...the more violence will happen. It's just fact.

[ He recognizes that kind of tone well enough, letting out a light scoff. ]

Calling myself a nerd, are you?

...Then, you'd be the opposite of one, wouldn't you? A very driven musclehead. But one nonetheless.

[ Anaxagoras's lips are turning into a little smirk, and just like that, he's tipping his glass back down for another gulp. But, of course, the way he said such words are...in his own way, fond.

Hansa's stubborn, determined drive is one of his best qualities. Though, he's sober enough to know if he said that Hansa would be making a face like this. But, there is danger of that slipping out anyways, given his words. Incidentally, in regards to the other male's words... ]

Facts are facts for a reason indeed.

Truthfully, it would be nice if said facts had fists that would set everything right. A little whack on the head or two would knock some foolishness right out! Hah, that'd be a sight.

[ ...okay that's still violence, but it doesn't shed blood, and rights things, so it'd be fine. ]

That's me. The driven musclehead. I did end up with my foster father because of my skills in fighting when I was a boy, you know. So it's not THAT much of a stretch...

[He laughs a little. His upbringing wasn't the most usual thing in the world, but he ended up where he belonged.]

[...He remembers Anaxagoras mentioning losing everything, too. He knows this isn't the time. Maybe later. It's nice to knock back alcohol and laugh a little, with someone who understands him so well. A mirror, yet not.]

[The mental image makes him chuckle a little - his eye creases, softly amused.]

You're speaking my musclehead language. I'd beat up the facts if it means getting out of here sooner. It would be easy. But I guess we have to rely on smart cookies like you.

[ Oh, now this surprises him little. Although, when he mentions "foster" father, he thinks of his own - Empedocles, to be exact. ]

Ah, as expected - it is far more fitting than I could have fathomed. Another point to genius...cultivated initially with help from my own guardian.

[ Anaxagoras allows himself that, even if he doesn't tend to like to brag much. Perhaps it helps that as they're enjoying their drinks mutually, he is very much reminded of their respective backgrounds. Where their paths lead them even in the wake of loss, as even his mind is more focused on the lighter aspects in the shadows of their uncertain situation.

He'll even let out a little light laugh, thinking about "I'd beat up the facts", his own gaze a bit soft. Is it also because of the compliment? 'Smart cookie'... ]

As such, I'll accept your compliment. After all, not only are we in agreement and speaking the very same language - it is wise to recognize our strengths. My own included.

...A pity I wouldn't be able to witness exactly the impossibility of what exactly an individual "beating up the facts" would look like. But, perhaps my imagination of you swinging your powerful fists around may suffice, hm?

PC WITH ANAXAGORAS

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