neverjoinyou | lastvoyages IC Inbox

[None of the eggnog is poisonous, just some of it he got real bored and the recipe got stranger.

Bill sits up out of sheer exasperation and throws both of his hands out in front of him.]

I TOLD THEM MY FIRST DAY! I'M GOING AROUND APOLOGIZING AND PEOPLE ARE TELLING ME WHETHER OR NOT I'M REALLY SORRY. YOU DON'T GET TO GUESS IF I'M SORRY! I KNOW WHETHER I'M SORRY! WHY AM I HUMILIATING MYSELF IF I DON'T GET ANYTHING OUT OF IT??

[Luke nods sympathetically.]

That sounds really exhausting. What were you sorry for?

THE KILLING. MOSTLY KILLING, EH - THE BIG CRIMES... I TRAPPED A GUY IN A NIGHTMARE PRISON. TWO GUYS.

Hmm.

[He has no idea how to handle this, but he knows that being honest is his best defense.]

Why is that, do you think? I mean, why do you think people don't believe you?

I DON'T KNOW! THEY THINK I'M SORRY FOR THE WRONG REASONS OR SOMETHING, AND I AM! BUT WHAT DOES IT MATTER HOW I TALKED MYSELF INTO SOMETHING IF THE END RESULT IS EXACTLY THE SAME??

[Bill angrily downs his own cup of eggnog. It leaves a milk mustache on his upper eyelid.]

I see your point.

[Luke can't quite put himself in Bill's shoes--he doesn't really know what it's like not to actually feel responsibility for something.]

What does being sorry mean to you? I mean. How does that feel?

IT MEANS IN RETROSPECT I'D HAVE DONE SOMETHING DIFFERENT!

[So, entirely self-centered reasons.]

AND I KNOW WHAT THE REASONS I'M SUPPOSED TO BE SORRY ARE!

[He is deliberately avoiding a bigger problem here, which is that he's pretty sure if he was capable of actual remorse he'd have seen some sign of it by now.]

BUT THEY CAN'T READ MY MIND! WHY DO I HAVE TO BE THINKING THE RIGHT THING TO SAY THE RIGHT THING?

That's a good question. But here's what I think you're not taking into account: that it's not what you say, Bill. It's whether you've learned anything. Whether... you realize that living that way hurts others. And that hurting others is bad.

[He sighs, and rests a hand on his chin.]

Sometimes that's unfair. My father... before he died, he repented. He knew that he had done wrong, and regretted it. I knew this, because I could feel it. And also, because he made a choice that made his change clear. But if he'd lived? [Luke shrugs.] I don't think any amount of his saying he was 'sorry' would wipe out decades of death and oppression. Even though he truly was, there was too much for him to erase with words. It would have taken a long time, a lot of actions, for others to believe him.

It's not a spell. It's not something you can wave at a problem so it goes away. It's how you live your life, how you interact with others. You have to show that you've changed, not just say the words. But that's probably not what you wanted to hear. I'm sorry.

UUUUUUUGH I DON'T EVEN KNOW WHERE TO START. ONE, I KNOW! IT'S BAD! I'M SUPPOSED TO TRUST THAT IT'S BAD AND NOT ASK QUESTIONS, WHATEVER!

TWO, I ALSO KNOW THAT APOLOGIZING DOESN'T DO ANYTHING EXCEPT REMIND PEOPLE WHY THEY WERE ANGRY AT YOU! I DID IT ANYWAY, BECAUSE I'M SUPPOSED TO. I'M TRYING TO FOLLOW THE RULES!

[Bill's voice has never really passed for human, but as he talks it gets even more metallic and high, like the scrape of shredding metal.]

THE RULES MAKE NO SENSE, AND NO ONE CAN EXPLAIN THEM! I'M JUST SUPPOSED TO BELIEVE IN THEM ANYWAY, AND LIVE MY WHOLE LIFE AROUND SOMETHING I DON'T UNDERSTAND! WELL, I TRIED, AND I CAN'T DO IT. COMPLIANCE IS AS GOOD AS YOU'RE GONNA GET!

Edited 2017-12-24 04:34 (UTC)

[Bill's presence in the Force doesn't pass for human, either, but even so it's obvious the guy is in distress. And whatever the cause of it, it is real. Not for the first time, Luke reflects briefly on the fact that he is not made for this--that, really, these questions are for more intelligent people than himself, and what is he actually doing here anyway?

All he can do, therefore, is his best.]

I never said that.

[He selects another of Bill's concoctions to sip.]

I... don't think you should just trust that it's bad and not ask questions. I don't think you should just follow rules because they're rules. I didn't. I don't think you can truly believe in them without understanding them at least a little.

[Luke pauses, watching Bill, trying to feel himself into Bill's... shoes, or whatever. It's a strain on his imagination, but he's trying.]

I don't blame you, Bill, for being upset, or feeling this way. I think... I think I would, too.

[Bill rolls his big eye over to look at Luke, and although he's still otherwise, something about the amount of white showing is reminiscent of the kind of frenetic, inarticulate panic of a creature about to bolt.

He doesn't say anything for a little while. This is a trap. No, probably not, he's being paranoid. But that's kinda the thing about paranoia, the instant you drop it is when they get you.

What has he got to lose?]

I DUNNO WHAT HE WANTS ME TO DO.

[It's flat, and maybe a little redundant, but what he means is more significant than the actual words: Bill is choosing to take Luke at face value, against the general counsel of his gut instinct to trust nobody.]

WHAT AM I GONNA EVEN ASK? WHY THE RULES EVEN APPLY TO ME? WHY THE HECK I SHOULD CARE ABOUT KILLING PEOPLE THAT ARE GOING TO BE DEAD IN FIFTY YEARS ANYWAY? HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO DECIDE WHO TO CARE ABOUT WHEN I CAN SEE EVERYBODY, ALL THE TIME? INSIDE THEIR HEADS? I CAN'T HELP 'EM ALL, KID. I CAN'T EVEN MOURN EVERYBODY I KNEW WELL ENOUGH THAT A NORMAL PERSON WOULD MISS, 'CAUSE THAT'S WHOLE UNIVERSES. I'D GO CRAZY!

[He waves his little stick arms in a vague, agitated way, but doesn't move to get up.]

WELL, CRAZIER.

[It feels like a victory, though won at the expense of Bill's distress. But then, Luke thinks, a certain amount of that is going to be necessary. It's not supposed to be easy. If it was, they wouldn't be here, would they?]

I don't know, but I don't think it's necessary to help them all. No one can do that. And sure, people will die eventually. But most things live and die. Most things have... a limited amount of time. So if that's true, it can't be about the fact they die. It has to be how people are allowed to live--and how you've affected them.

[He sighs.]

You're going to make fun of me, but I think part of your problem, Bill, is you are too smart. You see too much. You ask so many questions. And that makes it harder, I think, to just be. To just... feel something for someone, and let that be real.

IT'S ALL TEMPORARY, AND NONE OF IT IS REAL. I'M SMART AND I'M ALSO RIGHT, AND I DON'T KNOW WHY I HAVE TO PRETEND I'M NOT.

[He clambers up now to reach behind the counter and refill his drink. He also almost falls off and into the sink.]

NOT - NOT TODAY, GRAVITY.

[Had he fallen, Luke was ready with the Force.]

I'm not asking you to pretend anything. I'm asking you to... to be smart enough to realize you might not know everything. That can't be impossible, can it?

[In theory, he can fly. In practice, he's hammered.]

WE DID THIS ONE ALREADY, [Bill whines.] YEAH, I DON'T KNOW, OKAY? I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO NOW. I'VE DONE... ALMOST EVERYTHING I CAN THINK OF.

[He glares down at his new drink.]

SNART THINKS I SHOULD GET THE ADMIRAL TO TURN ME HUMAN.

[The amount that he Does Not want to do this is apparent, but he also thinks he might be running out of other options.]

It doesn't sound like that's what you want. [Luke knows there's a bit of going in circles with this, but he's not sure what he's doing. That much, he's never denied.]

And you've tried to figure out how to get out of here, how to pretend to be what someone wants. I say... we stop that. I say we just figure out who you are, without that goal. Bill... do you have any friends? I mean people you'd call friends.

WHAT?

[He blinks, bleary.]

I HAVE HENCHMEN, THEY'RE GREAT. NOT THAT ANY OF THEM ARE GONNA SEE ME AGAIN. THEY'RE PROBABLY ALREADY EATING EACH OTHER. DUMMIES.

[He's fond of that gang of inter-dimensional cannibals and demons.]

[Sounds nice.]

Okay. Well. That's... good. I guess. Are there any... is there anyone you, ah, feel... closer to, than most?

I MEAN THEY'RE KINDA INTERCHANGEABLE, ISN'T THAT WHAT HENCHMEN ARE FOR?

[He squints.]

I GUESS 8-BALL IS OKAY. HE JUST DOES THINGS WHEN I TELL HIM. I DON'T HAVE TO MICROMANAGE!

[Luke rubs his eyes.]

Okay, well, henchmen aside, ah... no one else? No one here, maybe? Or someone you know who isn't a henchman?

UUUUUUUH. I THINK I'M MICK RORY'S FRIEND, ACTUALLY. WEIRD, RIGHT?

[not that weird, they both like drinking and fire.]

[Not really.]

Why do you say that? I mean, why is it weird?

I DON'T KNOW! I THINK I WANTED HIM FOR SOMETHING AND THEN I JUST FORGOT TO STOP BEING NICE TO HIM.

[Luke is definitely NOT smiling. On the outside, anyway.]

That happens, sometimes. [He thinks of Han, and it's not the same thing at all but it's not utterly unlike, either.] So, can you tell me about him?

UUUUUGH, YOU KNOW HIM, HE'S THE ONE WITH THE BUZZ CUT THAT COMES IN A MATCHED SET WITH THE OTHER ONE WITH THE BUZZ CUT.

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