paradisa | 018 || written/dictated; (BACKDATED → late afternoonish)

[ Private ]

PARADISA

Obvious from the start. Not even worth the mental energy. Castle takes them, figuratively, literally. Castle brings them back. Cyclical. Pointless.

[He draws the underline hard enough to tear through the page. He exhales loudly, harshly (frustration, anger, noise) and there's the whine of a chair being dragged across hardwood.

The kidnappings, this "mirror" world, it's all been a blip to him. There was a flicker of interest, in the middle, but it's more or less resolved now, with all the justice-minded residents fighting the good fight to get their comrades home. Lovely story, really, all wrapped up in a bow.

But it's not helping anymore, this protracted game of tag they're playing with the castle. Been reduced to running in circles, chasing their tails. He's sick of it, has been. The only reason he's still playing is for the distraction, for the puzzle, a way to keep his mind from spinning itself off the rails.

(Kidnapping, 2007, 12-year-old girl tore her nails off her hands trying to claw her way out of a padded crate on a cargo ship.)

Makes him restless, irritable, nauseous. Psychological effects bleeding into physiological ones. The situation has always been an obviously temporary one, but this is becoming unlivable.

He needs a case.]

----

[ Jim Moriarty ]

How long has it been, now? Three months? Three whole months and the place is just as placid and boring as it was before you decided to drop in. Didn't realize a magic castle was all it took to cow you. I expected better.

Come on, Jim. I'm waiting.

----

[When he speaks to the castle at large, it's with all of the frustration pressed out of his tone. He's calm, musing -- and almost pleasant. He doesn't even really care if anyone's paying attention to this page of the journal.]

Stirring, isn't it, the camaraderie in this place. Some of these people you know, most of them you don't, and here you are, furiously scribbling away to pull them out from under the castle's thumb. Unified force against a common enemy.

[There's a small pause. If he's being sarcastic or derisive he doesn't really sound like it.]

Makes one wonder.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

And bringing them back here, that's saving them, is it?

Y-Yes...

Should saving them mean something else?

Seems more like a transfer from one prison to another.

[hmmm she's quiet for a moment]

You think Paradisa is a prison?

I'd say that's the most comprehensive term for it, yes.

I think... if I called Paradisa a prison, wouldn't every world be a prison?

[Silence.]

Who's to say they're not?

[:(] I don't think either of them are prisons.

I love my world very much... and in a way, I think I love Paradisa too. They're both places that are filled with people who are trying their best to create a good future, and they're both full of beautiful and wonderful things. Of course... there are sad and painful things in both worlds, but I don't think those things make the entire world and unhappy place.

So... no, I don't think it's a prison.

Edited 2012-06-26 06:05 (UTC)

[Oh. She's one of those types. The endlessly hopeful ones, with their hearts full of ~love~

He closes off a little, his tone tinged with derision.]

Well. The illusion of this place is well-constructed, to be sure. And while I'm sure you're perfectly content to lie in it, I'm not quite so easily swayed.

[she hears that tone. So she considers her words for a moment before she replies]

You think that if you find good things here, you're believing a lie?

I think it's in Paradisa's best interest for us to believe ourselves satisfied.

[Which is not quite the same.]

So it wants us to be happy here... and if we do that, we're falling for its trick?

[Sharply:]

It doesn't want us to be happy. It wants us to be comfortable, sated, pliable. It wants us to decide that staying here until it's finished with us is acceptable in the meantime, and to believe that we came to that decision on our own.

You can be happy in a prison, but that doesn't make it any less of one.

[.... she's quiet]

Do you really hate this place?

[He didn't always. In fact, it was fun at the beginning. It was interesting, it was new, it had thrown his tried and true conceptions of how the world worked out the window. There was John, Mycroft and Irene, all these interesting people from interesting places.

But that was months ago, and now he's just tired.]

Justifiably, I'd say.

I'm sorry.

[it's a short, simply reply, but one that's completely sincere]

Why? Because you think I'm suffering at the hands of a sentient citadel?

Take your bleeding heart somewhere else, I don't want or need it.

No... because it sounds like you've experienced painful things.

B-But, if that's insulting, then I'm s- [....] Um, then, nevermind...

[There's a long, long pause on his end.]

I hate this place for being unspeakably dull and nothing else. You're wasting your breath.

[hoo, whatever she was expecting, that was not it]

I-It's boring? But there's so much here.

Yes, there is. And not a single bit of it worth my time.

Oh...

[she tries to figure that out] Are you a Prince?

[That gets a laugh out of him, if a mirthless one.]

Me, royalty? No.

[hm... not royalty of any kind. If he had something of great importance to return to, something that was much larger than everything here, that would make sense. But... ]

Then I don't think I understand. Why is nothing here worth your time?

Because it's all the same. Don't you see? This place is a pit of stagnation, has you all prancing in place like a collection of show dogs, but you're all too busy yapping away to notice.

It's pointless. Rubbish.

dictated

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