towerofanimus | Sinking In

Entry tags:

Sinking In

Who: Cain Knightlord and YOU
Where: Cafeteria
Format: Either is fine with me
Warnings: None

Cain was struggling.

They had been here for days now, eight now to be precise, and still they had come no closer to discovering a mission objective. His stomach had grown more knotted each day they awoke in those beds in that room, a rising sensation of undeniable truth - however insane it seemed. The logic that he had used to prove this was a simulation at the start, seemingly so incontrovertible, was slowly dissolving as time passed without change.

Firstly, their superiors would never have left them inside a simulation for eight days if they were making no headway. They would have been pulled free and reprimanded, perhaps even properly punished (though that was unlikely now they were adults), and sent back to their duties. A week was a long time on the colony, and there was no way that they both could have been spared for this long. Secondly, he had never seen such a variety of programs with such diverse and full personalities; they were well-rounded and independent in a way that simulated people never could be, and each time he met someone new it made the doubt grow.

Of course, he was sure that Abel would be having none of it. That if he told his brother that he was starting to consider the possibility of other worlds and a kidnapping tower, then Abel would have him restrained to the bed until psychiatric help could be brought. Either that, or he'd punch him and be done with it. And he wouldn't blame Abel if he did, this was absolutely ludicrous as a situation, and every time he thought about it logically, then his mind wanted to strangle itself for even contemplating that it could be true.

Torn, lost, confused; Cain had become more withdrawn as the days had gone on. Until it had culminated in a rather dejected blond man sat in the cafeteria, pushing food around on his plate without any interest in actually eating it. When he spoke, it was to nobody in particular, just exhaling his frustration to himself.

"...this can't be real. How can it be? How can--?"

[ooc: Open as an open thing, everyone welcome!]

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Abel had watched.

He had watched -- observed the way that his brother had slowly but surely withdrawn inward. He had seen the reservation in his eyes, heard the hesitation in his voice when he spoke... He noticed the uncertainty where there had been that sense of unwavering patience, before. Oblivious though the younger twin may be to a great many things, Abel could also be incredibly perceptive when he put his mind to it.

His brother's discomfort was his own. Though he remained outwardly confident all of this were some extremely pointless and increasingly infuriating simulation -- ruse, joke... he was beginning to doubt the foundations of that belief, himself. There was no way to dismiss all the inconsistencies. The reality in an utterly realistic scenario had sunk into his stomach, and he found (not for the first time in his life) he was faced with the prospect of recognizing that his fate -- his future... had been taken completely from his control.

Too long. This was taking too long... if for no other reason than that, this was becoming too difficult to comprehend for what they had been so sure it would be. This isn't just a simple training simulation. The AI's; the detail in their surroundings... even things like the quality of sleep when they closed their eyes -- all the finer things pointed to a realism that should be impossible.

Fear is met with defensive mechanisms that keep him in one piece -- so like everything else, Abel's buried it away under the guise of a bitterness, an apathy. He follows in his twin's shadow, more often than not, unwilling to stray far from his side. If this were real...

...He can't believe the thought has even crossed his mind. But he catches himself thinking it, whether he likes it or not.

If this were real...

Then...

Abel sits opposite his twin, no tray to be found -- simply leaning an elbow upon the table and watching disinterestedly at the serving of food his brother was playing with more than eating. It's yet another sign that their minds have instinctively gone the same route. ...It's another source of uneasiness. He wants Cain to tell him it's just a glitch; they'll wake up soon and everything will be fine... that he's pieced together a plan to get them out of here. That none of this is real.

He knows, looking at him now... he's asking for too much.

Cain knew that Abel felt it too.

It was as though they were magnets, one's distress pulling at the other and dragging them to the same place. Not to mention he knew that Abel was just as intelligent as he was, however much he pretended he didn't see the signs, and therefore must be reaching the same conclusion as he was.

Eyes downturned to the mess of ice cream on his place, he pushed his spoon through what was rapidly becoming melted soup. He disliked the food-stuff, but it seemed to be all that was on offer so far, and so that's what he had ended up with. If this were another time, he would have made a joke and offered his brother the ice cream, but now wasn't the right moment for such a thing.

He opened his mouth once. Then again, still without saying anything. It felt as though if he gave voice to his thoughts, he would be giving this permission to be real. And if it were... then Seth and Lilith were...

"--it's not a simulation, Abel."

The only outward sign of acknowledgment that his brother had said anything at all was the most minute twitch of his fingers where he was resting his cheek in a palm seemingly boredly.

Those were not the words he had wanted to hear at all. Not at all... in any shape or form. The words that were supposed to come from his brother's lips were meant to be ones of reassurance -- of steadiness and confidence, as always. Not ones that fed this ridiculous paranoia that had somehow managed to worm its way into his head and heart in unison... not ones that meat that this was... perhaps--

He gives a soft furrow of his brow in response, dismissing the statement in full despite the quiet unease in his eyes behind the vague displeasure and mask of apathy.

"Don't be ridiculous."

"You know I'm not."

The rebuke was soft and slightly chiding; Abel knew him well enough to know that there were certain times Cain didn't mess about, and this was definitely one of them.

If he had reason to believe it wasn't a simulation, then he must have thought it through from every angle before saying anything. While Abel burying his head in the sand was expected, it was not helpful at the moment.

"There's no way something with this much detail could be a simulation."

He wants to hiss under his breath for him to shut up -- to stop right where he was going, before he could get there. Abel doesn't want to hear this... he doesn't want to face the possibility all of this really is--

He shifts, leaning both elbows down on the table and regarding his twin from his vantage point directly across from him with a sharp look, eyes probing their mirror with intensity. Abel's voice has dropped down, quiet, for his brother's ears alone.

"So what are you suggesting? That our world is dead, and we're the only survivors? Pulled across dimensions, time and space, to some... nonsensical shithole without explanation?"

Can't be true. None of this can be true, Cain, it just... can't be true. You realize that, don't you? How ridiculous all of this sounds. There's another explanation. There has to be.

He knows what it sounds like, he is acutely aware of how insane it sounds to even think about humouring this as truth, but he has no other explanation.

"No... I don't think our world is gone, if that were true then we would be on Earth and not here."

It was too much of a stretch to say that both Mars and Earth were gone, although he would believe that of all the people saved if the colony went under, he would definitely be among the first for how valuable he was.

"But wherever we are, it's no simulation. I don't believe we're being told the whole truth, but we're not hallucinating either."

It was a given, to Abel, to distrust whoever was in authority. It wouldn't have mattered what the situation had been; he was instinctively mistrustful of everyone around him with the few exceptions being his family. And even then... sometimes, that trust was strained.

He doesn't seem moved by his brother's explanation. According to what he'd read between one of the other supposed 'survivors' and their brief discussion with an 'official' of sorts, people were pulled on the cusp of their world's destruction -- sometimes sooner, if they could manage it. If Cain and Abel were the only ones from their Mars, then the explanation could be that they had been stolen moments before that Mars had been destroyed. There would be no time to plant them or anyone else safely on Earth.

Did he buy it?

...He wasn't sure. His knee-jerk reaction was an immediate and thorough denial -- but the truth was, he had no idea what was real or not. The prospect that it could be... that he could believe any of this were real... meant he had to accept that all parts of it might be, as well.

And that scared the fucking shit out of him.

He rubs a hand over his face, annoyed, before waving him off. "This place is insane." From disembodied arms to the things they'd witnessed on various floors of the Tower, the entirety was just... beyond comprehension. The surreality of it all made it harder to stomach as reality.

He believed that parts of this were true, which meant that their surroundings were as real as they were themselves. This was highly unsettling for so many reasons, not least the collars that they sported around their necks, a deep ingrained disgust at the treatment of anyone as though they were nothing more than animals.

But which parts were true was something he hadn't managed to figure out yet. He believed that they had been taken somehow here, but he didn't buy the multiple worlds or the apocalypse. Yet he couldn't figure out why the other prisoners were playing along, pretending to be from all different realities... it made no sense.

Heaving an irritated sigh, he scrubbed a hand through his hair before finally abandoning the tray of ice cream completely. "Insanity doesn't mean it's not reality."

"So, what, Cain?"

His annoyance, his anger and irritation covering his fear, make the bleed of displeasure into blue eyes all the more obvious despite the mask of apathy he had hoped to adopt and upkeep. Abel stares at his brother, the chill almost tangible as his mood took a further downward turn through the tubes.

"What are we supposed to do?"

"Stick together, and work out a way to get out of here."

He thinks the most likely explanation is a rival scientific company, one that wasn't part of the UNASF and had no access to the advanced cloning technology. The ruined world and other participants (likely actors), were probably a mind game to demoralise and deter them from attempting escape.

"Until then, keep ourselves out of trouble."

Asking Abel to stay out of trouble when it was entirely likely they had been separated from Lilith and Seth to purposely influence their mentalities and prey upon their familial relationship was a bit much; Cain had to be aware as much. But the Commander merely gave his brother a dispassionate stare in reply, before his cheek settled into his palm apathetically again.

It seemed there were no easy answers... and no easy out, by default. Had he expected Cain to have something? He'd certainly hoped.

Cain knew that asking Abel to keep his temper here was like asking a chocolate fireguard not to melt, but he had to do his best not to get them into more trouble than they were already in - though how they could be in much more trouble than kidnapped was up for debate.

"Don't look at me like that." He sighed, flicking a bit of ice cream at Abel to try and pull the mood back from where it had settled in rock bottom.

He makes a face, rubbing mostly-melted ice cream from his face with a sigh in response to his twin's. What is he supposed to do? All things considered, it's quite lucky that he hasn't beat the shit out of every single person supposedly aligned with the Tower already. The restraint on his temper is thin, at best, at present...

"I'm not content to sit around and wait for something to happen."

"I'm not saying we should do nothing at all, just turn our attentions to smaller hurdles while we wait."

He rubbed a finger under the collar at his throat, feeling uncomfortable still with the statement that it made - lesser, inferior, animal.

"We've worked on enough different technologies that, pooling our skills and with enough research, we should be able to get these off."

Abel's eyes drift to the collar at his brother's throat; he truly didn't need any reminders of its existence. It made him sick to see his twin collared this way... a grave, grave insult, and one he absolutely would not forgive. It made the cold, icy grip of a hatred so strong it made his chest tight settle all the deeper inside of his core.

"...we should explore some more of the tower. Maybe we can find tools or the area they're built in."

"I'm making a map with Suzaku, we've already worked out a fair division of the tower to explore each."

He would prefer Abel to work on the collars, his brother had always been more technologically minded and security systems were his expert area.

"You focus on the collars, I want these off us."

He gives a grudging nod of his head, though there was a vague displeasure in this. Suzaku...? So, his brother was already forming 'friendships' with the vermin they were forced to share confines with. It was utterly typical and naive of him.

"Then I'll see what I can find."

A small smile quirked the corners of his lips upwards, as he reached out to squeeze Abel's forearm reassuringly. It couldn't be pleasant for Abel to see him trapped here and collared, he knew it was agony for him to see his brother that way too.

"I know you'll figure it out."

Lifting to his feet, he gathered up several dinner plates and turned for the door.

"I'm going map-making, I'll see you later."

See him later...?

Abel's eyes follow his brother as Cain lifts to his feet, something perplexed in his expression before it's buried under the familiarity of an apathetic mask, and he gives a dismissive wave.

"Yeah..."

A hesitant pause, before the Commander is drawing upright, as well.

"...be careful, Cain."

Pausing at the words that must have come hard for his brother, his smile turns from a tiny smirk to a full on derp grin as he waves a hand.

"You know me, I'm always careful."

So he says, almost dropping his pile of plates. It was an act, of course, he wasn't genuinely that clumsy, but the charade was designed to make Abel feel better.

Abel's expression doesn't change -- and he certainly would never admit that the gesture did, in some small part, ease a little of the tension in his gut. He doesn't like this place... He doesn't like being unable to trust that should anything happen, he would be able to protect the both of them.

...Or even simply his older brother.

He turns for the opposite exit of the cafeteria, giving a wave of farewell over his shoulder as he retreats to begin his search for clues to the collar's operation in earnest.

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Sinking In

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