Log:A New Perspective
It's... well, now; it's always now. More of a pure 'now' at present than some, with the feeling of a fair bit of time passing since everyone woke, and no hint yet of tiredness implying sleep is imminent. It's been fairly quiet in the hall for a while, before that's broken by a couple good knocks on the door. On opening it, the first thing one would see is the likely source of the knock, clad in a close-fitting, brightly-patterned t-shirt and standard but well-cut jeans, and barefoot. The Bon-Vivant's clean-shaven today, with his hair cut shortish and carelessly spiky; at the time the door opens, he's got a grin and hanging on his shoulder what seems like a shirt tied at the bottom, its arms tied together as a 'strap'. It's full of... something. Something or things lumpy, anyway, which are definitely weighing it down a good deal.
The Rogue was holed up in his room. Hey, he was out in the last several houradn got provisions and returned with his loot. he was dedicated at least to trying to make the effort. It wasn't easy but he was keeping to it. Blue eyes flashed up at the knock curious. It was the new and familiar face that brought both a narrowing of his eyes and a curious quirk of a grin to his face, "You... look awfully pleased with yourself, Champ." Keeping that name for now. It tracked well. "To what do i owe this apparent stroke of inspiration? get your arse in here."
The Bon-Vivant seems both pleased with and thoughtful about the name; it probably counts as ambivalence, but if so, it's an unusually positive-leaning version of it. "I had a thought," he says, probably unnecessarily, and accepts the invitation, stepping in and giving the room a curious look-around, since all the ones he's glimpsed seem different so far.
His gaze falls back on the Rogue, and the grin lifts just slightly farther at one side, "Didn't think to bring crackers, though. Anyway-- busy? I was thinking about the skydiving thing you were talking about, and pissin' on physics. Mostly not literally. But I did think: well, you don't need to have ground at all, you could just fall forever. 'course if you did that, you better not have other plans for the day, because getting to the door again to leave seems tricky. But then I had another thought. Wanna go see if there's an open magic room and fuck with physics?"
The room the Rogue had seemed some nature of holdout bunker with sheet concrete for the walls that arced with raw wires and hanging bulbs spanning. There was still ambient light from...somewhere. The floor remained a nice polished wood and the furniture was plus wine colored leather and fine. There was a bed and a desk in there too, sure, but so many compartments in the walls and edges of the furniture.
the comment about the crackers warmed a wry smile from him, "weeeeell had you I guess that'd be a different discussion." Still he heard him out, shaking his head. his fingers found the edges of the page in the book he was reading, and like a savage, dogeared it...because tomorrow it'd be fine. He paused to commit the page number to memory at least. hell he was amused he could read again. "You never stop surprisin me, Champ. You know what? Yeah actually. I can't sit about waiting for history to come back around." Decisive on this he flipped the book shut.
Still... he had to ask shaking his head, "Okay yeah we can go fuck with physics. Sounds titillating, but what's with the shirt?"
The Bon-Vivant manages to look /more/ pleased, which takes a bit of doing, so it's probably helpful that the last question has him looking down at himself with a more quizzical look. "Just called to me today, I guess. There's a LOT of stuff in my closet. Also, here, feel." He twists and leans slightly toward the Rogue, apparently offering his shoulder and upper arm; if the invitation's taken, it's clear the fabric's got a cool, sort of silky texture to it, as well as a little stretch. "And it does look pretty good." He said modestly. Matter-of-factly will have to do. Rather belatedly he adds, "...it's also probably pretty aerodynamic," as if that's just occurred to him, "although now I'm thinking a cape or something's got appeal too."
Another glance around the room, as the book's set wherever it's going to wait. "You've got lots of doors and drawers and such too... do you know what's in them all?" he asks, starting toward the door.
The Rogue boggled at this and actually did feel up the fabric out of put indulgent curiosity, "hell that's soft." yeah okay you win this round. He hopped up and opened one panel closet to pull a few things out. "Ya know, I haven't the foggiest to be honest. I just find if I need something there's... sort of an intuition I get sometimes and know where things are but really? Your guess is as good as mine. We could likely go on a scavenger hunt in here." He pulled out though a flight jacket and goggles and then dug out his boots and fingerless leather gloves. rummaging around he tossed a second pair Champ's way. "Here. Trust me. I was on a space ship. You'll want the gloves and thank me later." He looked around and said "ya know we... could make you a cape if you wanted one. Be kinda a riot."
The Bon-Vivant grins, and manages to catch the gloves, though with the 'bag' unbalancing him it's a bit inelegant -- one bounces off the other and he has to make a quick grab to save it before it falls. "Thanks," he says, feeling the outside of them and then pulling them on. "I haven't gotten through all the compartments in mine, either. I wonder what's hiding in all these rooms that none of us have even found yet?" He flexes his hands when the gloves are on, before looking back up. "I wonder if I've actually got a cape in my closet? I don't think I've seen all of it, yet. Though you should try walking through there with your hands out to both sides sometime, it feels cool. We could probably just bring a sheet or something for now, though..." Another grin, probably imagining it. "What was the spaceship like?"
The Rogue reasoned, "Well the more they don't want us to want to know I think the more important it probably is for us to look. A lock is just door-speak for step up yuir game, punk." He turned and squint a look to Champ, head tilted. as if challenged, which he wasn't at least externally, he went and flipped back the comforter and grabbed a hold of the bedsheet and with a boot to the edge of the mattress and a tug? yeah he filched his top sheet and spiraled it up in a bundle. He shrugged, "In case the parachute fails...also it's damn funny." he curiously considered the Hephaestus. "It was a lot of cramped metal that smelled of grease and fuel at times and often cold but, that aside? It was like freedom. It felt like hope. Grew up in that world with no family and had to fight for everything I needed until Aaron...well Evan or ...whatever he's calling himself, hooked me up with a job. Then it became a home. Some place i could leave a bad situation behind and that view, you saw, is just," His nose scrunched up with the fondness of that singular memory, "Anything bad that happened up til that point was worth it. but it was also quite scary if you don't have the things you need to get from hard point to hard point. It's easy to run out of things like fuel, air, food. But it was amazing and weightless and what we worked for was ours owed to no one else. It was a hell of a feeling." He paused and squeezed Champ's shoulder admitting, "Also there was a space station filled with diseased people and homicidal robots...but space was great."
"Aside from the disease and murderous robots, it does sound pretty good," the Bon-Vivant agrees, replying to the squeeze via a small, brief lean into it, "...and yeah, that view was great. That's one thing I wish about the rooms... that they had some kind of view. Even if it wasn't actually real, I like that feeling of there being an out there out there like the space deck had." A small pause, as he moves toward the door again, "The other thing I wish is that I could bring the music back with me. Why's that only in the parlour, you think?"
It's not until they're about to leave the room that he circles back to, "Seems to me anything that we have access to, they must want us to see or know, even if we have to work for it. Because if they really want to keep it away, couldn't they just... keep it away? So maybe stepping up our game's the point, if something's locked. Or making us want it because they're not letting us have it." All of that kind of thing seems still a bit more theoretical for him than it seems for the people with proper memories.
The Rogue nearly bumped into him as they headed out and quietly agreed, "I think that's the point. I'll say this much, I beat them at their own game twice. So they ignore the win. Maybe resist what they want us to want and want our things on our terms. They can make the rules but they really only have so much say in how people regard them." There was that toothy grin and the pluck back in his spine, "Criminals break laws. Great criminals just rewrite them. We will just have to make new rules.' and with that he gestured to the door, "Starting with physics. After you, Champ."
Onward to the rooms of Anywhere! On reaching them, the Bon-Vivant stops a moment, and studies the door before them. "Okay," he mutters, "if you really can make them be anything at all..." and he pushes the portal open.
Inside, it looks somewhat similar to the space deck, in some ways: there's a large platform, right now, surrounded by a night sky. Around the platform is what seems like a see-through globe; a faint shimmer that the sky shows easily through. BV grins when he sees it, and walks on in. "So far, so good!" he says, and stops in the middle of the platform, looking up. "Hey, room!" he addresses the invisible ceiling, "Give me a sunset!"
The sky lightens around them, easing into a gradiated blue-orange-pink, and BV's grin widens. "Kickass." He looks over to the Rogue, making sure he's come in and closed the door. "Set on skydiving to start?"
The Rogue looked around, expression fixed, but he was definitely queuing into this plan. "Niiiiiiiice. Good job on that electric tangerine colour." He squint looking around and as miserable as things have been of late he was happy to openly admit, "This is pretty kiff, mate." That not-exactly British drawl carried approval. His feet planted, and fingers hung loose for now. A genuine, honest as the dispensary does serve coffee smile warmed in place clarifying, "To start with? I like where your head's at." He tapped the top of his boot to the platform and offered, "What's the worst that can happen? we die critically entertained bon our own will?" He sniffed and nodded giving that thought appraisal, "Or we prove infinity has a bottom. Fekk it. You're in then I'm in."
"Well, if we're gonna die, entertained's better than not!" the Bon-Vivant says, still grinning. He looks quite pleased with things so far, though it goes a bit thoughtful as he looks around again, taking a moment to adjust the way his ersatz bag hangs -- across his chest, now, which is a bit of a tight fit, but that might be the point, considering. "Okay," he says then, with a nod, "All in. Ready?"
He only waits long enough that a 'no' could get slipped in there before looking up toward the invisible ceiling again, and raising his voice slightly -- as though it might be hard of hearing. "Hey, room! Turn off the platform, let us fall!"
And it does. The support beneath them does a strange amalgam of fading away and opening up like an iris, and gravity does what gravity generally does, drawing them quickly down toward an as-yet invisible ground. No way to know yet if there is one, or if this just goes on forever -- unless BV's consciously decided, presumably, but if he has he isn't saying. Just giving an almost-startled and decidedly-thrilled whoop as he finds his stomach suddenly feeling as though it's trying to leap up through the top of his head. The sound turns into a delighted laugh, pulled quickly away by the rapidly increasing speed of the wind rushing by.
The Rogue turned to Champ and grabbed the front of his shirt giving him a nod. "Punch it." And then the ground was just gone; dissolving with all of his other concerns at the time and leaving both men adrift in a sea of painted sky. There was wind but without the clouds occasionally for reference it's be impossible to tell they were doing anything but floating.
Having some familiarity with zero-G and terminal velocity speeds he knew not to let Champ drift far or it'd be a boring ride down. Turns out wind is also kinda loud but as everything was moving with them, not impossible to communicate. He crowed with exhilaration, "WOOOOOOOOOOO I have not done this... in a long... long time!" He laughed letting go with one hand to hold it wide to the side, "And not outside! This is great!"
"I have not done this... ever!" the Bon-Vivant calls back gleefully. He doesn't show any objection to having his shirt grabbed, even before the reasoning for it becomes clear -- he's been thinking things through to the best of his ability, but the potential for getting separated may not have been one that occurred to him. Avoiding that's definitely worth the extra breeze that ends up on his stomach, although really, it's possible that'd just justify itself anyway, at least for a while. Still, he offers a hand as an anchor point instead, letting his other arm imitate the Rogue's; he tries to spread out more intentionally against the air, just to see what that does.
It's difficult not to laugh, and he doesn't really bother to try; it shifts to just a grin as he looks around them, eyes squinting against the rush of air. "You did it inside, before?"
The Rogue could pass as a totally different person when he didn't have a field of vision he was constantly assessing and figuring out what angle people were operating from.
Here there were no angles, no people, no concerns, no threats...apparent. This might be as close to actual freedom as this place could simulate. he loved everything about it.
The rogue known to most as Caleb or Sinclair nodded, grabbing his elbow with the free arm pulling him back a moment and the turning his hand over so they could do a wrist grab before letting go with the other hand. He didn't answer and just fell into zen with the rush. "Hard to remember, but I think we were crashing. Suffice t'say? This is MUCH better." His hand gave Champ's arm a squeeze and side= nodded as if to show him something else which was... the art of being fancy while plummeting to perceived demise. because if this was going to fail spectacularly it was going to be with panache. And right now this was a win still. Knees tucked in and he rolled forward pulling himself and hen his partner in high diving into a somersault. When there's nothing to hit acrobatics were not difficult. What was going to happen? Spin out and still not hit anything. Black out and wake up in their room the following day? Pfft.
"I kinda love, for your sake, that this is the beginning of what you get to know life to be. It's going to get worse... but they can't take this from us. This is fekking great."
The Bon-Vivant has enough unexplained knowledge in his mind that he can't help laughing again at the parallel of crashing and note that this is better. "Gotta be," he agrees, and cooperates with the grip-arrangement, figuring the Rogue knows what he's doing, there. The somersault, though, there's the definite impression that he had exactly the same idea, if perhaps less skill in just how to pull it off. It makes for a much smoother and better-aligned movement than it might have otherwise, and brings out another breathless laugh, even as the 'bag' of Stuff thunks itself against his back in the movement and adds an extra push to the roll.
"It'll probably suck," he allows, managing to shrug slightly, and the grin broadens again, "but that's later! And this is now. And now is fuckin' awesome!" Which could equally fit the potential for them meeting a ground down there. Still hard to tell if there is one, though maybe it does look a little bit different from the sky around them? It might just be that it's bluer there, though -- less near the colour-changing rays of sunlight. He attempts with less than total success to plummet straight head-down for a few moments, ending up rolling again, just more slowly and more spread out; the grip may well pass that on. "I think maybe I'm glad too, though. Starting here."
The Rogue just rolled with it. Maybe it was a clever part of the metaphor, or unintended success at making Champ's point, but sometimes riding the moment is the only control over this shit one had.
Right now Caleb could let go of grief, and sure it'd be there when he got back. He was dead certain those things that you care about you never un-care about, nor do they become less important but this? This was the vacation from anchoring himself entirely in his short, profound past. That was a jarring and terrifying start, but this? someone had a chance to have it better off and he was entirely on board with stealing that opportunity back for someone allowing him this reprieve.
"I got in, right? It was scary shit, unfamiliar unexplained weird shit, and right into... well the rest." He wasn't going to rehash it again. Champ knew what he needed to know and would ask if he needed to. He didn't seem shy on that front. "This spin works, this freefall works, in theory because we have some frame of reference to anchor to. It's a bit telling, ya know?"
The Bon-Vivant nods, and takes a moment to notice how that feels in freefall before saying, "It seems like everything's that way. But if we turned off the gravity and floated among stars, with nothing else around, I wonder how that would be? We could still spin, so we'd have to be anchoring to some frame of reference, I guess. Except that whichever way we ended would be 'up' then, wouldn't it?" It sounds like a genuine question, which maybe isn't unreasonable when you're talking to someone who's spent time working on a ship in outer space. He may well know!
For the moment, BV seems happy to continue finding out what kind of movements do what to their fall; he tries swinging his legs sideways to see if it'll make them turn in a circle. Have to know what physics will do on its own before you start really trying to mess with it, one supposes. "Hey," he says suddenly, "I'm glad you came with."
The Rogue turned his arm and instead of punching cattle rustlers it was to pull BV around and grab the other arm. As the leg flew wide he half 'threw' him without letting go setting a spiral pattern. When you're falling indefinitely you got time to try things. rogue couldn't honestly tell anyone the last time he cut loose or, if in fact, he ever had. When you change the physics there's really no real ceiling on what one could come up with. "Yeah in zero gravity you just kinda pick a bearing and you're moving toward or away from it. Up and down are just... gone." Still he looked up and around at electric an pink and orange fading to deep violet above and a light blue "below" which was the only real indicator they had. The spontaneous 'hey' rallied his focus back arching an eyebrow hair whipping up and thankfully out of his face. The words won a grin. he laughed giving the daredevil a nod, "I'm glad I came with ya too, Champ." he wasn't letting that name go. It was title earned.