to sleep, perchance to dream

[theonlyori-blog]

mandalas | open

[theonlyori-blog]

shizukanashizumaru‌:

He’s not sure if it’s his imagination or reaching worry, but something about Ori just walking by themselves out here seems lonely to him. Not that he supposes he’s one to talk, but the image sticks in his brain, somehow. Even before answering, it feels as if Ori’s been here for at least a little while, given their face. It was peculiar, in some vein. Despite having a reddened face from the cold, they really didn’t give the appearance of someone particularly bothered by the weather. Perhaps they had gotten used to it. Or were simply less bothered, like he was. Shizumaru himself didn’t even need to wear long sleeves. In the end, their backstories and origins, despite everything, were still a mystery.

“I see… it goes without saying, but make sure to take care of your health. We have no idea when the weather will change for the worse.” he glances up, as if to check the weather again. Being fine with cold weather is one thing, but it can still get dangerous. Even for him.

Shizumaru turns back to Ori, a little puzzled by the question and perturbed by the word choice. 

“I… am not sure. You mean to say some sort of hobby? I haven’t really done anything to spend time like that. Most of my days I study the island and try to find some new clue. Otherwise, I suppose I am talking to people… it helps to check in, even if you don’t have the right words. I think…”

I am not an interesting person.

That thought crosses his mind, but he feels no need to share it.

“I feel… the more comfortable we get, the harder it will become to leave. Not that I feel you could get comfortable here…”

Ori shrugs. “I can get comfortable anywhere,” they say. “There’s wisdom in it, I think... if you can sleep, sleep. If you can eat, eat... Because you might not be able to tomorrow.” Wow, that sounded ominous, but they’re not thinking about it in a death sort of way. But then again- “But even if you’re comfy you might want to leave... people die here, after all.”

They turn to Shizumaru again. “As long as you’re keeping yourself busy, I guess... People who get bored are going to want to go home... And for now, there’s only one way to do that.” And then they frown, the slightest furrowing of their brows. “Not having a hobby sounds kind of dull, though... Maybe you just don’t remember what your hobbies are.”

But they look at the lake, and the tracks of footprints winding this way and that in patterns in the snow. That doesn’t seem like much of a hobby. And it’s not, really, they don’t think. “Maybe I’m not one to talk right now, though.” And they actually laugh a little, a light laugh, a slightly more forceful exhale, but a laugh all the same.

[theonlyori-blog]

mandalas | open

[theonlyori-blog]

shizukanashizumaru‌:

Nobody was looking for him. Whether it be on this island or outside of it, he knew now that he was alone. Once he got over the initial shock and disappointment, Shizumaru did his best to see it as a net positive. It meant nobody would be grieve for him if it came to the worst. What really came as a concern was what he saw after all that. To think that people on this island, people he had talked to casually were capable of such horrific acts… could they become like that again? Were they like that now? Did they remember it… or was it a vague blur to them?

It was an obvious concern but he wasn’t sure how to handle it. Whenever it came to people and their feelings, he seemed to mess it up royally. And every time he tried to help and protect the others, it was criticism after criticism. At this point, he just wasn’t sure how to do it ‘right’.

And so, he walked. And he thought.

His routine these days had been to wake up at the Confinement Centre, eat at the guesthoue and then train himself by subjecting himself to what lay in his room at the Atonement Facility. The timing of which could change, depending on what was around him. Like now, for instance, as he caught sight of a figure near the lake. He hadn’t visited the lake often. It was frozen over and bore no clues nor tools with which to get out of this situation. But there was some aesthetic appeal, he supposed, in the smooth blue surface. Interestingly, there appeared to be something even more aesthetically impressive to see; patterns dotted into the snow with an almost expert precision. He had never been one for arts, so this sort of talent seemed otherworldly.

Ori Okinose… so they were the one responsible. They seemed as placid as ever. In the vaguest sense, they were in the same boat. Neither of them had seen relatives begging for their safe return. Neither had Kou Tsukino. Nor Yukari Murofushi. He only briefly pondered what they could mean before returning Ori’s wave with a nod, his arms folded.

“You seem to have worked quite hard on this… it’s uh… I commend you, I think. It looks good.“

He tosses his head up to the sky, watching to see few flakes fall down. It must not’ve been snowing much today… or at the very least, it wasn’t over here.

“Have you been out long? I don’t mean to fuss… I’m just… curious.“

Before Ori can say anything a snowflake lands squarely on the tip of their nose. They blink at it and then look up. Maybe it hasn’t quite stopped snowing after all. It’s not snowing so much that their pattern will disappear, not for a little while longer.

They plod over to Shizumaru, tracking a line of footprints partway across it to the shore where he’s standing. “I’ve been out here for a little while,” they say. They pat their face with their mittens, their cheeks all red from being outside for a couple hours now. 

They turn to look at the pattern from Shizumaru’s point of view. It still looks basically the same. They shrug. “Just something to pass the time...” they say, “It’s not really hard, you just have to put a little bit of thought into it before you start.” 

They look at Shizumaru. “What do you do to kill time around here?”

[theonlyori-blog]

mandalas | open

[♫♫♫]

Ori remains pretty unbothered by the stuff the cube had told them. They didn’t hear anyone looking for them on that tape, so they don’t even remember who would be out there for them to talk to if they did go to all the effort of actually killing someone. As for the scenes of the others doing awful things? Well, two people had been murdered so far. Seems pretty par for the course, actually.

So they’re doing what they do best: idling away the hours doing nothing much at all. It’s the day after those strange videos, and while everyone else seems to be in a state about them, Ori remains perfectly calm and at ease with their surroundings.

They’re at the lake, the one down the hill by the guesthouse, edging onto the woods. They don’t have skates, nor would they know how to skate, but they have boots, and the ice is thick.

Ori amuses themselves by bootskating this way and that around the lake, cutting patterns in the fresh snow. Looking down from above would show that they’re drawing simple mandala-like patterns, almost perfect, save for a bit of human error and one messy section that looks suspiciously like Ori slipped and fell.

They’ve been at this all afternoon. They spend a few minutes making a pattern and then stop to admire it and let the snow cover it up, and then they start again. It’s calming work. Very zen.

Now, though, they stop, and look up at the clear blue sky. It’s stopped snowing. They look down at their pattern, marred only by a single butt print, and are satisfied with it. And then they turn to whoever they hear crunching their way through the snow nearby and give them a little wave, their hand covered by a kitted mitten.

[theonlyori-blog]

keep your enemies closer | rxn

Parents and families all looking for the lost loved ones, loved ones lost in a deadly game, which five lost loved ones have lost. That’s a lot of losts. But no one is looking for Ori! Everyone on that television screen looks nice enough, but why should any of them matter to Ori, personally? They don’t.

And how is Ori going to call someone when they don’t even remember who they can call? They figure they have a family out there, in some form or another. most people do. But they don’t seem to recall anything. Not your smartest motive, cube.

Oh, but- now this is interesting.

They watch the visions of their classmates committing wildly violent acts with a sort of morbid fascination. They don’t really... react to it, per se. Slowly their head cocks, their eyes narrow, and they watch the scene unfold in silence.

And once everybody else is too busy losing their minds to really pay attention to Ori, standing toward the back with their hands clasped, Ori turns their attention to watch the others’ reactions, still silent and calm.

[theonlyori-blog]

late nights | open

[theonlyori-blog]

shizukanashizumaru‌:

For a second, there’s a sense of warmth. Was this a sign of concern from Ori? Perhaps they simply didn’t want to see a companion stress themselves out. Shizumaru was eager to insist on his health before realizing Ori’s true intent. There was no such soft concern; perhaps it was naive to ever expect it.

“You don’t want that… why? I can see no harm in working together. The more we pool together ideas and supplies, surely the easier it becomes to survive this ordeal. I admit, I might come on too strong sometimes but… I truly have everyone’s best interests at heart. Furthermore, if we’re together often, people won’t have as much time nor space to plan out a murder. We would all be witnesses.“ Though he says that, even he doesn’t enjoy the idea of spending all day watching people and hounding them. While that strategy has clear pros, he can’t help but figure the close proximity will only stress everyone out more. He’s never been… good with people. But he’d had some time to observe those on the island. And he’d grown to at least try and understand them.

“You would… imply I’m a hypocrite of some kind. Yes? Arrogant, maybe? My standards for myself are different from those I place on others. I appreciate that you are not worried for me. But you’re asking… what you’re asking for, I cannot do in good conscience.“

He pauses, eyes averting as he considers his words. This, too, is something he’s made an effort to do more of, the longer he remains around these people. At a time like this, word choice is important. ‘I’m bad at it’ can’t be an excuse.

“You would consider yourself intelligent, correct? I think I would agree. Okinose-san, you know how to take care of yourself. But if a snow storm hits us, will you know what to do? If someone attacks you, will you be able to navigate the situation without committing murder? … Remember, ‘self-defense’ is no excuse here. I am not doubting your abilities. Please believe that, just… it helps a lot, for someone to have your back. I imagine you and many others consider it a pain. But maybe that pain will save you. That’s… that’s my thought on it.“

Though, if he’s being annoying he should really tone it down. It’s just… a difficult subject, the idea of balancing something he finds so crucial.

“If I’m pestering you too much, I will attempt to give you more space but… I can’t give up on helping people out like this. I’m sorry, annoying or not, I feel this is something I have to do.“

Ori props one hand under their chin and listens patiently while Shizumaru talks. Their eyes are half-lidded and sleepy as ever, but they seem to actually be paying attention - the eyes under their eyelids remain alert and focussed. 

“You doubt what I can do, don’t you?” they say, “I don’t hold it against you. You don’t know me... I don’t even really know me.” Their words are slurred a little by the fact that there’s a hand pushing against their jaw. “But you don’t doubt yourself. Why should I trust that you’re better at any of this than me? Is it... is it because I woke up in fancy embroidered clothes not fit for this weather, and you woke up better prepared for survival? I don’t think that means much.”

Their eyes travel downwards and back up, since their head is currently stuck in one position. Really, this is inconvenient, but they don’t feel like moving now that they’re here. “I’m not the one who’s had an oozing thigh wound for weeks, either.”

They way they talk, they might as well be discussing something as trivial as the weather. They sigh, ever so softly. “You can’t control anyone’s actions but your own, Kirikubo-san. The only one you can keep from dying is yourself. Trying otherwise is a fool’s errand... If you had magically saved Jise-san... it would have been someone else. You know that, right?

“If you really want to look out for me, I cannot stop you... But don’t expect me to follow your rules just because you’ve decided to make yourself the leader. You probably think I’m a... a jerk, but... I do think you’re sacrificing your own safety here.”

[theonlyori-blog]

late nights | open

[theonlyori-blog]

shizukanashizumaru:

Ori Okinose is a riddle. What a shame then that Shizumaru has never been one for figuring people out. Nor does he really have any desire to. Straight-forward terms and words suit him better, not just because he’s socially broken, but because iti s easier to know what people are about  Easier to get one’s viewpoint and believe. But Ori, he feels, is something the opposite of that. Or perhaps he really is too dense to understand them very well. They seem as composed as ever.

“I… suppose that’s true. But, we won’t be here forever. Some time soon, we’ll be leaving this place. When that happens…“ he leaves that thought half-finished. He doesn’t actually know what comes after ‘when that happens’. He certainly does believe they’ll get out of here. But will life just go back to normal after that? How could it? They didn’t even remember who they were. He’s snapped out of such thoughts by Ori’s next question. And honestly, he isn’t sure how to answer. It seems to show some concern, no, perhaps just curiosity. But their tone is the same as ever. Perhaps Ori’s also bad at communicating. Shizumaru does his best to think about it.

“I believe… someone has to. I’m… strong, I think. In any case, these harsh conditions don’t seem to faze me very much… I think this is a boon. If I can use myself to help everyone else, I will, gladly. And…“ he shakes his head. “I don’t really need to be protected. I’m not saying I’m invincible, just… if I die, but everybody else manages to live… I’m… I’d be okay with that. So… you don’t need to worry about me, Okinose-san. I’ll be doing my best to look after you, too.”

Ori fixes Shizumaru with a look, dropping their chin and slightly cocking their head to one side as they do. “You will burn out if you keep thinking like that, Kirikubo-san... You... expect too much of yourself, I think. There’s-” they pause and actually count on their fingers “-fourteen of us left here, thirteen if I don’t count you. You can’t have eyes on everyone all the time.”

There’s a moment where they look like they’re about to hop up onto the table, but then they reconsider. It’d really suck if the whole thing shattered. Frankly, Ori thought, with everything happening here, dying like this would be embarrassing. Instead, they sit down on the edge of one of the booth seats, sideways, with their legs sticking out into the hallway.

“Do not... misunderstand me,” they say, leaning forward onto the table, “I know I don’t need to worry about you, and I won’t. This conversation is... selfish.” Their gaze keeps drifting around but then it snaps back onto Shizumaru. “I don’t want you looking out for me and trying to tell me what I can and can’t do... You’re very fond of getting angry at others when they do things you don’t like, but then you go off and do those same things yourself. It’s a pain in the... in the bum, and I don’t really want to deal with it.”

[theonlyori-blog]

late nights | open

[theonlyori-blog]

shizukanashizumaru:

There’s something about the bar that puts a sense of dread in Shizumaru before he even enters the area. There’s likely nothing wrong with it in terms of a place of business, it just disagrees with him tremendously, on some visceral level he can’t quite put into words. Is it too modern? Too noisy? He wants to say it is and yet, it’s not really… making any noise. Nothing other than a gentle hum, anyway. He enters anyway, perhaps just desperate to put whatever doubt and thought he has to rest. There’s a gentle ambience to the inside but it still alarms him, the colour’s not even close to natural and he feels out of place here.

Walls and stands of mirrors show him, well, himself, and he feels deeply perturbed. For some reason, the idea of seeing his own face is… unpleasant. He’s not quite sure if he’d disgusted by the sight of himself or not. The hole where his memories should be leaves a lot of doubt. Is it that he’s ugly? Is it a hatred of looking at himself? It’s hard to say. He averts his eyes, but a flash of orange blinds him for a second anyway. That’s. Very clearly not him. No, it’s Ori, a fact that only becomes more obvious when they speak up. Their voice feels as composed as always but it makes him curious - are they tired? Perhaps they are putting on a brave face despite dire conditions. That was someting he could understand, at least. Shizumaru takes some careful steps towards Ori without peeking at the mirrors. He wasn’t a fan of those, either.

“I am, yes… I fear it’s becoming a pattern. But sleep doesn’t come easy in these dark times. I worry about things if I’m not vigilant. Naturally, I can’t be around all the time but… if I patrol every now and again, check on people… I’m at least doing something.“

It’s better than staring at the ceiling. He’d tried that before and it only made his body weigh more, his arms sinking like anchors when he’d try and move them. At least this way he had motivation.

“You are up late yourself, Okinose-san. Are you feeling alright? Times have been… bleak. I worry.“

Ori frowns at Shizumaru and turns around to look at him directly, instead of through the mirrors. Get a slightly better view of him. Ori doesn’t feel particularly strongly about much of anyone here, but Shizumaru especially. Taking everything so personally like this couldn’t be good for his health. Ori couldn’t imagine trying to be as responsible as that. It’d be so much effort.

Ori shrugs. “It’s funny... there’s no... school or anything here. I don’t have any... structure to my day. I eat when I’m hungry, and I sleep when I’m tired. So I’m up at odd hours a lot. That’s all.” And they had just taken a big nap after that trial. Running all over the place, collecting evidence, shouting at people in a trial room - that was a lot of effort too.

They move over and lean onto one of glass booth tables, not really sitting back onto it but also not standing, either. “You see it as your responsibility to keep everyone safe, right, Kirikubo-san?” they say, cocking their head slightly as they say it. Their voice remains as impartial and bored as ever. “Who... is protecting you, then?”

[theonlyori-blog]

late nights | open

[theonlyori-blog]

satokoihara:

Between the deaths of Giselle and Kaizou, and her memories of Sakuno and the older man from the past, Satoko found herself with quite a bit to think about. It probably wasn’t wise to be wandering around at such a late hour, but it was the only thing that she could think to do. She eventually found herself at the bar, heaving a sigh upon recognizing the kimono-clad figure seated there.

‘You’re up late…’

Her brow furrowed at these words. 

“And? So are you.”

Her voice was soft, however, lacking its usual bite. She shuffled her way over to a seat several spaces down from where Ori was, sitting quietly for a moment before she spoke up again.

“…what are you doing here?” Her eyes darted up to glance at them for only a moment before returning to their position on the counter top. “I thought you were the type to sleep whenever you could.”

Aww, she’s sitting so far away. Is it a respectable distance, or has today taken a greater toll on her than she’s letting on? Satoko can be hard to read, but Ori thinks that that’s on purpose - which, actually, can be read in and of itself.

Ori doesn’t look directly at her, but they do make occasional eye contact (or try to, anyway) through the mirrors. And there are so many reflected-Satokos to choose from.

“I like to sleep, yes... but you can only sleep so much,” they say, “Too much of a good thing, you know.” They tilt their head, and shift their attention to their own reflection. They don’t look particularly tired. No more sleepy than they usually do, anyway.

“Besides, I had a nap after the trial... Being both a detective and a lawyer is hard work. So much running around and shouting at people... It takes a lot out of you.” It’s said without any hint of irony or facetiousness. “So I’m not tired anymore.”

They drum their fingers along the bar. “This is quite an... interesting place, isn’t it?”

[theonlyori-blog]

late nights | open

[♫♫♫]

There’s a moment where Ori stands in the Prism Bar, staring into one of the mirrors, staring at the multitudes of Oris, some staring back at them and others staring off into space. The intersections of mirrors create infinities within infinities.

They tilt their head, raise their chin, and examine the scar across their cheek. They see it every time they look in the mirror, of course. They have a vague idea of where it came from; just looking at their own reflection(s) triggered memories, way back when. They can see the scar from every angle, the different texture catching the purple-pink light just a little differently than the rest of their face.

Ori waves one hand, watching the dozens of identical hands make the same motion, from so many different angles. The hand is scarred too, scars that are different, but not different, than the one on their face. They’re all scars. They watch all of the other Oris move in synch. Maybe some of those infinite Oris aren’t stuck in such a dreary and cold place. Maybe they’re somewhere a little more comfortable.

That’s stupid, they’re just reflections. Still, Ori just kind of stares at themselves. It’s been several hours since Giselle and Kaizou died; it’s getting late, and it’s dark out, and usually by now Ori would be back in the therapy centre relaxing in their nice private bedroom. But they’re not. They’re here instead, for reasons they don’t even really know.

Maybe they just don’t feel like sleeping just yet. It’s been a long day, too long to end the day just yet.

And then they see, behind them, someone else entering, infinite copies invading the infinite multitudes Ori currently occupies. Ori doesn’t turn around; they can see the newcomer just fine - a dozen times over, no less. “You’re up late...” they mutter quietly.

[theonlyori-blog]

digitized | closed, kAIzou & ori

[theonlyori-blog]

kaizouanzai:

“No. You’re fine. I’m just… surprised, I think.”

They ignore the last part, quickly moving the conversation along. There’s no point on dwelling on it. If they could simulate emotions as strong as their living self did, they would have shut off the second they saw Ori.

“I’m grateful you made the effort to see me. However, I can’t ignore the feeling I have that you came here solely to mock me. I hope you can understand where I’m coming from. I-I’m not a toy.”

Even if they left on their own accord, they could click a button and easily bring them back. There’s no escape.

“Yes, I’m– I’m aware. I saw what happened to Hwan. I don’t understand how one gets uploaded, but I believe I’ve been given the same treatment. Have you been… talking to her?”

Kaizou looks unsure of what to do with themself. They occasionally break eye contact to focus on anything that isn’t the person in front of them. They can clearly remember everything they said in that trial. Not just them, of course, but Ori stood out against the ones in denial.

“Do you have information on my talent? I can’t seem to recall it. I never discovered that part of myself. That’s all I want. Then you can cut to the chase.”

Ori half-smiles, which is about as much smile as anyone’s going to get from them. There’s something about the way Ori smiles. It looks the same as anyone else’s smile, really, but coming from Ori, one might find it... unsettling. They’ve never had a particularly friendly smile.

“I know you’re not a toy, Anzai-san,” they say, “Don’t worry... I’m not here to play with you. I’m just... curious, is all. We ran out of time, back at the trial, and there were some loose ends...” And the clinic had given Ori the perfect way to tie up those loose ends. Who needs a ouija board when there’s a computer system like this?

Ori lifts one hands and rests their fingers against their chin, almost supporting their head in their hand but not really, only making a superficial version of the gesture. That half smile is gone, replaced by their usual neutral, exprionless look, although their head is tilted just a little in thought. “Hwan-san... I downloaded her program file, but she has never come to see me... I do not know if the others have spoken to her, or if she just doesn’t want to talk.” They shrug slightly.

They stand and walk up to Kaizou. Kaizou’s a bit taller than Ori, but it doesn’t deter them. “You’re a fashion designer, Anzai-san... Does that ring any bells?” They’re not looking Kaizou in the eyes, but rather at their own hand, which they wave through the digital Kaizou like there’s nothing there. Fascinating.

[theonlyori-blog]

digitized | closed, kAIzou & ori

[theonlyori-blog]

kaizouanzai:

As soon as Ori accepts the prompt, it disappears. The cursor turns into its buffering animation, leaving Ori to stare at the pulsating circles for a few minutes.

Finally, they’re live!

Their form dims before completely taking shape. They silently look at their surroundings, down at their hands, then up at the one who summoned them.

“Huh? Okinose!? What– What do you want from me? You out of– You out of all people…”

The hologram shoots them a glare and flickers now and then, clearly not expecting them to be their first visitor. They sigh and cross their arms, taking their time to process the most recent events… or they’re at least pretending to do that. It’s all automatic anyway, being electronic and all.

“Hmm… It appears that I’m unable to leave this building.”

“Both this and being executed are a light price for what I’ve done. I can do nothing but accept my fate, I suppose. If I’m lucky, nobody will ever feel the need to summon me again.”

No matter how close one was with them, it’s obvious that the Kaizou that stood before them was different. They’re only a replica. An imitation.

“Alright. I’ll talk, Okinose.”

For anyone else, seeing a recently dead acquaintance suddenly materialize into mid-air might be shocking, or upsetting. It was the first time Ori had seen this happen too, no less, and they blink at the process but, outwardly, don’t seem perturbed at all by it.

Half of a wry smile tugs at the corners of their mouth. “You sound disappointed to see me, Anzai-san... Would you prefer one of the others? They are all still very upset.” That smile has disappeared just as quickly as it appeared. “That might upset you, too... Or provoke some sort of simulated upset, I suppose.”

They walk over to the reclining chair and perch on it, not quite sitting back into it. They sit straight-backed, with their hands clasped. They look very proper, and almost dainty. “I could also just shut you off, if you want... Return you to oblivion, or wherever it is dead people and inactive computer programs go. You... do remember that you’re dead, right?”

They shake their head. “Before I do that, though, I’d just like to talk. Just like when Hwan-san died, we learned things about you that I don’t think you know... I could tell you just a little bit about yourself, if you’d like. But I do have some questions.” Boy, are they talking a lot right now. The trial has put them into some sort of mood, apparently. “Nothing bad... Just conversation.”

[theonlyori-blog]

digitized | closed, kAIzou & ori

[♫♫♫]

Everything is... quiet, after the trial. Kaizou Anzai is dead. Giselle Bellerose is, too, but Ori already knew that. This means that four of their number are gone. Bit by bit, they’re chipped away. It always seems so much emptier after a trial, they’ve come to learn. Fewer faces, but more spaces. Fewer people spread out across a larger area, and the silence left behind by the dead can be so loud.

It gets lonelier.

But Ori isn’t really concerned by that right now. They don’t mind being alone. Anyway, they don’t care to ruminate on it; they have something more pressing to think about. They had spent too much of the trial piecing together a timeline, and then once Kaizou was revealed, everything had fallen together very fast.

Ori still has questions. They’ve been left... unsatisfied.

Luckily, they know how to speak to the dead. They return to the clinic, where the deed had been done, but they don’t bother to revisit anything. They walk to the computer desk, robes trailing behind them, and open up the list of names. All of the living people are laid out before them - there’s Ori in the clinic, of course; Shizumaru, Asao, and Chuichi are together (that’s an odd trio), as are Matias, Yukari, and Ryoka (not quite as odd). This could be useful. But not right now.

Kaizou, of course; file not found. But yes, they would like to create kaizou.exe. They wait for it to load, and... ... ...

[theonlyori-blog]

gone and gone and gone

Ori has just left the therapy center and is standing outside when they notice that their bracelet is no longer lit up. They stretch. They still feel kind of shitty, but maybe its a little better now. They’d gotten so used to feeling like crap all the time that they’d stopped paying attention to it.

But if the bracelet was off, that meant - ah, yes, there it is. Their ID buzzed, just like last time. Someone’s dead. They pull the card out, and frown. Giselle. She’s the one who disappeared a week or two ago. And now she’s gotten herself murdered. It’s unexpected. It raises a lot of questions. First thing’s first, though. 

They put the ID card away and slide off the bracelet. It comes off now, like a normal accessory. With hardly a glance they flick it into the snow, not caring where it lands, and walk away from it.

Toward the clinic, then. They suppose they should go and take a look. After all, they do have a lot of questions.

[lewiscoley-blog]

contaminant [open]

[theonlyori-blog]

lewiscoley:

Ah, Ori. To think he had been frightened of them before. Well, he still was, but on a much lower scale. He relaxed his posture and gave them a gentle smile. “Please. I made some tea as well. I’m unsure if I did it properly but…it’s back there.” He gestured to the kitchen area. 

“How are you putting up with all this, Okinose-san? There’s this….calming sort of vibe I get from you, even in the most dangerous of situations.” Well aside from the whole Serenade debacle, but Lewis wouldn’t blame them for that. 

“I’m…not brave at all. I’m deathly afraid of what could happen to me or you or the others here, and it feels like it’s out of my hands.” Lewis glanced down at the glowing red bracelet. Even if he helped his partner, it’d hurt someone else. Stuff like that drove him up the wall. 

Ori looks back at the kitchen, and then down at the chair they were just pulling out. Tea sounded good but that also meant they’d have to go all the way back there again. “I may go get some soon,” they decide, sitting down across from Lewis, “Thank you, Rui-san.”

They tilt their head and listen to Lewis talk. They’re a decent listener, certainly not interrupting him. They’re content to be unobtrusive. While he’s talking, they idly spear one of the little pastries and pop it into their mouth. Mm, octopus-flavour. And still warm. A classic. What’s he saying now?

They chew for a moment, letting the silence hang while they mull over the question. “I’m not sure I have an answer for you...” they admit, “I’ve never been... well, I assume I’ve never been a terribly anxious person. My time here so far has demonstrated that I am just... naturally calm, I suppose.”

Actually they kind of do want that tea, but they’re already sitting down. Maybe more takoyaki will help. They spear a second one. “I believe I can also adequately defend myself. Perhaps that is the key. I can’t trust anything but my own abilities... and I do trust them.”

[nullifystartagain-blog]

Confrontation [Ori]

[theonlyori-blog]

nullifystartagain:

No mistake indeed. Chuichi’s voice is distinct and clear, a whining sort of nasal tone with far too much inflection, and his face expresses similarly as he is FINALLY greeted. With an irritated tone and a pointed finger, he chastises Ori immediately. “What took you so long??”

At the question, though, he gives a puzzled look behind them and spots the kettle. He then takes a look around the rest of Ori’s room and squints suspiciously. Whatever judgment he’s made here, it isn’t good. Regardless, the open door and the question seem like invitation enough, so he walks right in and inspects the cups Ori placed for poison of any kind.

“….what kind of tea? Maybe. Is it good?” He asks, eyeing the cup instead of actually meeting eyes with.. Them. He continues speaking, though, no longer raising his voice but still seeming pretty abrasive in general. “Is it going to make me sick?? I’m _already_ poisoned, it wouldnt take much to turn my organic body into organic potting soil, don’t think I haven’t realized that. So now that I’ve foiled your murder plot, I have something serious to talk about.”

His voice is surprisingly confident, and he clutches the puzzle rock safely in his free hand, against his chest. He’s… threatened by Ori, ever since the incident with the knife, but like hell if he’ll admit it. He’s giving them a serious, businesslike stare- why shouldn’t he?? They’re partners, aren’t they? In this, at least, Ori and Chuichi are on the same team, so at the very least the idea of mutually assured destruction soothes Chuichi’s anxiety.

He puts down the cup and looks sternly at Ori.

 "Did you reduce our dosage??“

“I was sleeping-” Ori starts to say, but they’re cut off when Chuichi rudely barges his way into their room. They don’t actually try to stop him, but rather they watch him go, standing in the doorway and looking at him inspect all of their dishes. Their expression remains as flat as ever. All they ask is that he not break anything.

If Chuichi is of the paranoid type, he might get the impression that Ori is blocking the only exit from the room. But it’s probably not intentional.

“It’s green tea...” they say. Expensive stuff, so you’d better enjoy it, they add, but decide that saying it aloud would be useless. “Unless you are allergic to tea, it will not hurt you.” They cock an eyebrow, the most emotion they’ve shown so far in this interaction. “It might even calm you down.” Goodness knows you need it.

Finally they move back into the room, letting the door hang open. They sit down on the floor beside their low table and arrange the cups back where they’re supposed to be. The water isn’t quite boiling yet, but it should be soon. They look up at Chuichi, sitting comfortably. “I did,” they say, “And in the process I poisoned Bai-san and Ryuuko-san... although you may have discovered that already.”

[nullifystartagain-blog]

Confrontation [Ori]

Chuichi is on a mission. Or at least, you’d think so, judging by the way he walks up to Ori’s therapy room. He stops at the door and glares at it with mild determination, holding the large Puzzle Rock in his arms, and otherwise sporting his usual attire. Large sandler shirt, knit hat, lanyard items, and messenger bag. He’s not here to hang out, but to talk with his bracelet partner.

After all, things had been happening lately. He’d been poisoned, and had certainly been suffering the effects, and there had been a number of conflicts among the others. To be frank about things, Ori _terrifies_ him; Chuichi finds them not only dangerous, but unpredictable. Being partnered up with them was Chuichi’s #2 worst case scenario, #1 being Tatsuya. So far, though, they haven’t had too much trouble between them.

Instead, Chuichi is just now deciding to stir up a problem by pounding his fist against Ori’s therapy room door. It’s a loud, obnoxious knock that expects a response.

“HEY! I know you’re in there- hey, Ori!” He shouts, not stopping his knocking until he gets an answer.

[theonlyori-blog]

Ori was, indeed, in there, not quite napping, but not really doing anything either. Just sort of lying there, enjoying the brief respite from this place’s current brand of bullshit. And then they were so rudely interrupted. By Chuichi, no less. There was no mistaking that voice. And they had no doubt as to what exactly he wanted to talk about.

Slowly they drag themselves off their bed and stretch. They’d been having headaches recently, ever since the bracelet was put on them. Chuichi must suffer some kind of chronic condition. Ori had yet to tell him to take some advil or something, but if this went on for much longer they might have to.

On the way over they plug in the kettle and let that start boiling, and took out a few dishes. You know preparation. And they were taking their sweet time. Chuichi could pound on the door a few moments longer.

Finally they slid open the door and looked at their visitor, face flat and unreadable. “Hello, Genda-san,” they say, their normal voice much quieter and softer than his shouting. “Would you like a cup of tea?”

[lewiscoley-blog]

contaminant [open]

Having too much power was never a good thing, was it? Especially for a worrier such as himself. After everyone else cleared out of the cafe, he remained to reflect on his thoughts. First things first, however was some tea. He…may have known how to make tea. It couldn’t be too difficult.

Using the stove…not his favorite thing to do, but he was careful about it. There was this twang of fear he felt when the water boiled, as if he’d do the wrong thing and cause an accident. Miscalculate one thing. Each movement he made was unnecessarily careful, even from dropping the bag into the pot to pouring it into his small cup. Though with each success, he felt a little bit more confident.

Setting the cup down on the table he was at, he sat down once more. Lewis didn’t like how quiet it was despite not taking the initiative to go after someone. He was hoping someone would walk in and talk to him, or else all that noise in his head would flare up again. The bright red glow of the bracelet was already a huge reminder of it. If anyone did come in, they’d see him looking rather serious. 

[theonlyori-blog]

The door jingled at Ori as they came back into the cafe. They frowned up at it. How noisy. They always seemed to come back to this cafe, which was odd. They didn’t even like it. The white, shiny decor just made them feel cold. They had to wonder what sort of designer would approve this? Outside was cold and snowy, so inside should feel warm and cozy, not just cold and snowy as well.

Well, no matter. This place had desserts, so they would forgive the bad thematic decor. The thought crossed their mind that they could redecorate it in the night while the cube slept - did cubes sleep? - but that sounded like far too much work.

They looked at Lewis as they entered, made the slightest nod of acknowledgement, and then drifted past them to raid the dessert display case. There was takoyaki here today - and they took back every bad thought they’d had about the place. They sniffed at it, and couldn’t tell what flavour it was. Hopefully good flavoured.

They drifted back into the main area, holding the little plate of takoyaki, and stopped in front of Lewis, looking down at him. “Rui-san...” they said, “Would you like some company?”