[ MIDNIIIIIIGHT, NOT A SOUND IN THE TAVEEEEEEERN--
Except for the fact that Dorothy is humming in mild intrigue when-- either hypothetically, everyone passes out, or in the extremely off-chance that it's just them, an hour's passed and she and The Man Who Once Called Himself Raven are still awake.
Not for long, she thinks, although it's a little concerning that he doesn't really seem to be groggy. Hm. ]
Well, that's one question answered. Captain Schwann, you have my apologies.
[He's still and unresponsive for a long moment. This is past when everyone normally falls asleep on Thursday. Dorothy's apologizing. So that's how this is, is it?
Now that he thinks about it, there's a fuzziness just starting to gnaw at his mind. Sleeping pills, probably. He's been drugged before.]
... I see. Perhaps this is for the best. You don't need to apologize.
[ ... All right, she had known he didn't have much reason to value his life, for whatever reason that might have been, but Dorothy still frowns as she pushes her empty glass off to the side. ]
You're really, truly fine with this? It's fine if you hate me.
After all the lives I've taken myself, I don't think I have a right to complain. [How can you hate other people when you already hate yourself the most!!!]
I'm not so gallant. It's always been my job to kill whoever the Commandant asks me to. People that are in his way. Does his goal of reforming the empire justify the methods, Dorothy?
... No? What sort of work did you do, Dorothy? [Choosing not to acknowledge the question!! Empty shells don't ask questions. Tools don't ask questions. Wanting to question it now.... isn't it far too late for him to do that?]
It's a blastia powered by my own life. More magic than mechanism. [The good thing about this dumb pirate costume is the neckline is pretty big, so it's just a matter of him tugging it off his shoulder to expose the blastia lodged in his chest. No wonder he was so coy at strip check! The gem in the center seems to glow faintly. For now!]
You just need to put in a formula. I know it. [He does have to think a moment, because it's honestly been years since he's really thought about it, but he went over it so many times in that hospital room that he couldn't have forgotten it. But when his hand brushes over it to open up the panel it just... doesn't come up. He tries again, to no effect, and then sighs.]
[Schwann isn't actually sure as to the answer to Dorothy's question, but at least he can address Ange's issue. He unfastens his sword... thing from his belt and holds it out.]
It doesn't hurt to try. [If Dorothy doubted his words before, she can confirm as she leans closer that there's just... resignation. He's not upset. Distantly sad and tired, maybe. And a faint glimmer of relief.]
[He's fading. Ange inspects him for a moment, her gaze sliding to Dorothy, before she shifts her grip on the blade's handle.]
You will want to get up and back away.
[Then she steps around to stand behind him, expression calm and flat. If she thinks about this as another job, then it doesn't matter, right? It means practically nothing. Another job, in another place, and Schwann is just the unlucky person who was in the way. Raven had been kind, but...
She fixes her gaze on her target, and for a moment, she leans in to murmur ever-so-softly:]
It is not as though I do not understand your feelings.
[He might be too far gone to hear her... but she gets it. She's been there too. And maybe that is what spurs her on--she leans back again, puts the blade to his throat, and slices straight through with a move that is too practiced and too professional. She's done this before, and most likely, she will do it again, because that is the person she is now.
The blood gets on nothing but her glove, and she walks around the blood splatters carefully to return his weapon, tucking it back into his hand.]
[By the time Ange actually does the deed, he's already unconscious, so it's hard to say if he did hear her. But if they choose to look... maybe it's just wishful thinking or imagination, but the look on his face is... peaceful, with almost a hint of a smile.
So maybe he did hear. In any case, Schwann Oltorain is dead.]
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Except for the fact that Dorothy is humming in mild intrigue when-- either hypothetically, everyone passes out, or in the extremely off-chance that it's just them, an hour's passed and she and The Man Who Once Called Himself Raven are still awake.
Not for long, she thinks, although it's a little concerning that he doesn't really seem to be groggy. Hm. ]
Well, that's one question answered. Captain Schwann, you have my apologies.
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Now that he thinks about it, there's a fuzziness just starting to gnaw at his mind. Sleeping pills, probably. He's been drugged before.]
... I see. Perhaps this is for the best. You don't need to apologize.
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You're really, truly fine with this? It's fine if you hate me.
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After all the lives I've taken myself, I don't think I have a right to complain.
[How can you hate other people when you already hate yourself the most!!!]
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[ It can't all be chivalry and gallantry, she's sure of that. ]
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I'm not so gallant. It's always been my job to kill whoever the Commandant asks me to. People that are in his way. Does his goal of reforming the empire justify the methods, Dorothy?
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I'm not so different. Or, I wasn't. Following the rules of those higher up, regardless of whether those actions were cruel or not.
But if you have to ask me if his goal justifies the methods, I would have to say probably not. You wouldn't be questioning it otherwise, right?
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... No? What sort of work did you do, Dorothy?
[Choosing not to acknowledge the question!! Empty shells don't ask questions. Tools don't ask questions. Wanting to question it now.... isn't it far too late for him to do that?]
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[ It's said very simply, but he probably also knows that Encompasses a Lot. ]
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Operating in the shadows, is it. [They really aren't so different.]
Of course, now I have to wonder how much of your personality is an act.
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Anyway, she steps in quietly, hands on her hips as she surveys the scene. She definitely has to step over some unconscious people.]
... Are you sharing all of my secrets? And what is the name you go by now, Raven? Since you are still conscious enough to share.
I forgot to turn on thread tracking like an idiot and just saw this.
Well, this is certainly one way to do it.]
Schwann. [A soft, sad laugh.] I suppose the two of you underestimated my constitution.
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[ And yet. Well. Here they are, and she lifts an eyebrow at Ange with a question in her eyes. ]
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[She just shrugs though. Murder is rarely clean, so this doesn't bother her.]
Since you are conscious, Schwann. Preferences on how your life ends? It is the best favor I can offer, small as it is.
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... You could just turn off my heart. [Sir, what.] Though with magic not working here I'm not sure if the control panel is even accessible.
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I'm sorry, are you saying that your heart is... mechanically powered? Of a sort?
[ Magic? ]
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She steps over to Dorothy, holding out a hand. Gloves pls.]
That sounds clean and efficient. How do I do that? [She is GAME TO TRY.]
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[The good thing about this dumb pirate costume is the neckline is pretty big, so it's just a matter of him tugging it off his shoulder to expose the blastia lodged in his chest. No wonder he was so coy at strip check! The gem in the center seems to glow faintly. For now!]
You just need to put in a formula. I know it.
[He does have to think a moment, because it's honestly been years since he's really thought about it, but he went over it so many times in that hospital room that he couldn't have forgotten it. But when his hand brushes over it to open up the panel it just... doesn't come up. He tries again, to no effect, and then sighs.]
I suppose it wouldn't be that easy.
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Not the time. His own efforts don't seem to cut it, and Dorothy leans in closer to study the blastia.
Enjoy the emotions of professional intrigue, some haziness, and a bit of unhappiness. ]
Is it possible to shatter it with enough force applied, I wonder?
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We would need a weapon. I do not have anything on me with which I could apply enough force.
[She was just gonna drown him...]
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It doesn't hurt to try.
[If Dorothy doubted his words before, she can confirm as she leans closer that there's just... resignation. He's not upset. Distantly sad and tired, maybe. And a faint glimmer of relief.]
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She doesn't say anything.
She just lifts the blade, and with a neat shift of her wrist, she brings her arm down to stab it against the gem in his chest.]
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No I'm kidding it doesn't work, we know this. She dings the metal frame a little, but the glowy gem part is undamaged.
Schwann, meanwhile, is starting to fade, it seems like drugging didn't not work, it just worked... slower.]
... Hah. Sorry. Looks like it's up to you, now.
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[ Dorothy says this a tad tiredly, but mostly because she knows Ange will know what she means. ]
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You will want to get up and back away.
[Then she steps around to stand behind him, expression calm and flat. If she thinks about this as another job, then it doesn't matter, right? It means practically nothing. Another job, in another place, and Schwann is just the unlucky person who was in the way. Raven had been kind, but...
She fixes her gaze on her target, and for a moment, she leans in to murmur ever-so-softly:]
It is not as though I do not understand your feelings.
[He might be too far gone to hear her... but she gets it. She's been there too. And maybe that is what spurs her on--she leans back again, puts the blade to his throat, and slices straight through with a move that is too practiced and too professional. She's done this before, and most likely, she will do it again, because that is the person she is now.
The blood gets on nothing but her glove, and she walks around the blood splatters carefully to return his weapon, tucking it back into his hand.]
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So maybe he did hear. In any case, Schwann Oltorain is dead.]