championoftime | (no subject)

[Private to Ariadne | Voice]

I would like to secure my inmate a work position in the art room, if you're willing to discuss it with me. [He sounds exhausted, and he is seriously considering also making him work in the kitchen until he proves that he stays clean for a little while.]

[Spam for Arkady]¹

[After putting Jesse away in Zero, the Doctor quickly goes up to the pub and looks around for Arkady. He's calmed down now, considerably. Or at least he's tried to for her sake. He knows she'll be hurt and angry. He can almost feel it, or maybe that's his mind playing tricks on him.

After asking where she is, he leaves Stildyne behind and goes to the back storeroom and closes the door behind him, and then goes over to kneel beside of her.]

I am profoundly sorry for all of this.

[Spam for Jesse]²

[The Doctor stays nearby for much of the night, waiting for Jesse to sleep it off. It's fine for him because he doesn't need sleep, but that means that he's awake for the majority of it. At some point, he doesn't know what level of irritated, angry, or even disappointed that he's supposed to be at.

To be honest, he's almost as disappointed as when he was responsible for the Joker. Because the Joker- if he did something, it could be written off on his near deranged nature quite easily. But Jesse? Jesse's just a boy who should know better. At least when he's in his right mind, he can speak with him more meaningfully.

He goes in again to check on him, gauging his sobriety through the bars.]

Are you going to be needing something for your head?

OOC: 1. Response to this. 2. A follow up to this thread.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Yeah, 'cause all they gotta do is say they're sorry, right? Oh, they're real sorry. Are you deaf, old man? I asked you a question -- what am I supposed to do? 'Cause apparently that ain't good enough for me. Work, work, you keep saying -- work how? Doing what?

What're my magic words supposed to be? ["Sorry," he's said, to Gale himself, even, or what he thought was Gale, way back in October. And he's even sorrier now that he knows it was all completely for nothing. But that's not enough, apparently, for the Admiral, and underneath the anger he's pretty sure he knows why; it's what's keeping him, for all his insistence that he's working things through, as stuck as he is.

Because "sorry" isn't the same as "I'll never do it again," and he already knows -- Claire and Richie proved to him -- that he would. That he will. That he's no different from Arya, on that one. That the only work he's actually done is trying to make her better, not himself.

He presses on before the Doctor can answer, fists clenching at his sides, the remains of his barely-smoked cigarette falling to the floor.]

Did you ever think that maybe I'm not gonna be any better than this?

[He still addresses it, even if Jesse has moved on.] No, you don't have to say you're sorry. No more than a few days ago you were sorry for the drugs, and you came back for them. That that is precisely the attitude that needs to stop. That you can't be better than that. Is that what makes you so angry? That someone like Hoffman- like Amanda, that they can become better? There have been men that destroyed planets here, that did experiments on people, that they can become better?

There are things you don't really want to do anyway- that you know are morally wrong. What you need to learn is not to be sorry, but not to do them anymore no matter how badly you want to please someone.

So I should have let them kill us, that's what you're saying. Or I shouldn't have even tried to-- [He's hung over enough, not thinking clearly enough, that he almost says "get rid of Richie." He switches tacks halfway through the sentence, badly.] To, uh, get the guys back that got Tomas, Andrea's little bro.

That's bullshit, man. Half the wardens here would've done the same, in my shoes. Taking out child killers? Protecting your partner? This ain't about pleasing no one, jack, it's about family.

One of the wardens here is also a robot programmed to annihilate life on Earth. She's not you. Nor is anyone else.

Immediate self-defence is one matter. Premeditated, calculated, wilful destruction of someone's life is another. Recklessly harming the wellbeing and peace of mind of others because you become so despondent that you no longer care is another. This affects everyone you care about. And as much as you demand that drawing away from them will improve matters, it won't.

You hurt people by doing what you know, what you very much know. [He gestures.] ...Were you going to say something else?

No. And see? That's what I'm saying. This is bullshit. That robot bitch is better than me? Much less the folks who chose to off like twenty guys -- I mean, at least she's got programming to blame.

[He shakes his head, trying to move past the Doctor.] The NA thing was dumb as shit, I get that now, but the rest? Fuck that, man. Face it -- if that's my problem, I'm never getting out of here. Sucks to be both of us.

She's not better than you. That's like squabbling over whether or not the woman behind the check-out counter is better than you. You do have choices, you can choose not to do things.

If I didn't believe I could help you I would have asked for reassignment already.

Yeah? So how come evil robot bitch and evil cop asshole are wardens, then? That's supposed to mean they're better, right? You people are better. Otherwise, who the hell are you to tell me anything? Not like you know anything about slinging dope, or where I come from.

Edited 2012-04-19 07:51 (UTC)

None of us come from the same place, Jesse. You can't make someone less than you by continually insulting them. All you can do is make yourself a better person.

I keep trying to tell you, you know where you come from. You know what is right and wrong. You know who you want to help and what you want to do.

But since I'm at least in a position of authority over you at the moment, contact Ariadne when you have a chance.

[He wants to argue further, because seriously, this is all bullshit, and the guy still hasn't answered his stupid question... But the world is starting to reel away from him in a way that means he ~~either~~ needs sleep ~~or meth~~, so he gives it up with a frustrated, disgusted little sound.]

Fine. Awesome. I'll go be the art room bitch. Whatever. [He reaches into his pocket, like he's going to do it right now, and frowns. Where the fuck did his communicator go?]

[He reaches too deeply into a pocket and pulls out Jesse's comm, holding it out for him.]

...Thanks. [Bitch. >:| He takes it and shoves it away for later. With one last angry glance at the blank door, he slouches off for his own room.]