kinesia | IC Contact

[Since arriving in the mythical kingdom of Florida, Edgar's been texting Grey pretty frequently. It's mostly been utter nonsense intended to test out his phone and get a better handle on spelling and basic punctuation. He knows Grey will never give him flack for being a novice in this arena; he knew how to read well enough to hold conversations with Grey, and on the Train, no one but Gilliam needed any better literacy than that.]

[This isn't the train, though.]

got a question four you

[ Grey isn't surprised. If Edgar is anything like he was at first, he'll be questioning almost everything. ]

ok

what question ?

[This one is more philosophical than does every one really use forks i think they are just lazy. It's why, despite the fact that Edgar could easily find Grey and ask him himself, he opts for text instead. Might make it easier on Grey.]

do you know what a slave is
thought i did when i got hear but some bird had plenty to say on the subject
not that any of it was all that fucking clear tho you know i was distracted at the time just a tad

[ This is unexpected

This is...

How does this happen? Grey hesitates, fingers poised over his phone. It's a good thing this wasn't in person. It's easier to detach, easier to think about. He leans his head against the wall. ]

i knew a man who talked about slaves
once
they had them in his world

i didnt like it . i was angry with him

[Angry with him? Angry alongside him, or-?]

what did he say they were like

they kept them in his world he was kind he was good to people . he was good to me but he kept slaves and didnt think it was wrong . he thought people would be happy even if they werent free i tried to argue but i didnt have the words

[ Gilliam would have known the words. He would have known exactly what to say. Grey has never been the man who had to argue against injustice. He was the weapon in other men's hands. He had tried to express what he thinks Gilliam would have, but of course, he had fallen short. ]

Sent from my iPhone

well fuck him frankly
?he still around

[Way to get distracted from what you came here for in the first place, Edgar.]

no
he left months ago

~~i liked him~~
~~dont be angry with him~~
~~he didnt know better~~
~~i miss him~~

he was my friend .

[ That will have to do. Grey hadn't liked fighting with Anavha, but he'd liked it even less when he vanished. ]

who asked you about slaves ?

seems like everybodys always leaving
sorry your friend was an arsehole lucky youre used to that by now

[Because he's friends with Edgar, har har.]

lady i met on the first day said there were slaves in her world and they were folk forced to follow orders no matter what and got no rights

[He wants to ask, but he can't ask it. Grey, were we slaves?]

[ It's why Anavha's story had upset him. He'd identified with the slaves. ]

they cant have them here
they cant make us go back
they cant make us do anything

[ Even register, which is why Grey hasn't. That glowing tattoo is one that makes him very uncomfortable. It's not a mark of identity, like his others, but a brand. ]

[This is why he went to Grey. Grey's always had this quiet judgement, this cool, collected sense of the world. He knew the score and didn't question it. If Grey thinks they were slaves, then they were. Then there's nothing to be ashamed of, it's just the truth.]

[Edgar is deeply comforted by this revelation.]

fat lot of good it would do them to try after giving us magic powers more like they are trying to build some bleeding army witch i will die before i sea

[Die again. Is he dead? That's the second question he can't ask.]

[He was sure he was going to die. But then, he was sure death meant never waking again.]

[But.]

what do you mean they cant have them

they have laws

[ Once upon a time Grey would have said rules, but he's more aware of Jeff Winger's life now. ]

its not allowed

[ And then, fiercely: ]

you arent going to die . we are going to live
i wont let them take you .

fuck i wont let them take me you think i wont put up a fight
didnt mean to get so bloody dark with this just wanted to know what you thought anyway
you really think they care about laws hear

[Because that will be sure to lighten the mood. Edgar knows that law means the same as rule, but there are always rules. That doesn't mean they hold when things get rough.]

[ Grey’s opinion of the authorities is not wonderful. It’s not that they’ve treated him badly, it’s that the Train’s mentality has never left him. It’s ingrained, like a stain that won’t come out. He’s suspicious of every bureaucrat, and of every person who supports them. This world seems too good to be true. ]

they care about looking like they care

[ They care about having supporters. Followers. Soldiers for their war, the subject of which veers into territory that is far above Grey’s head. Propaganda isn’t, though. He sees it everywhere. It reminds him of videos and songs that made Wilford the saviour of humanity, and so he trusts none of it. ]

they want us to fight for them
they try to make us register . they put cameras outside houses and send their doctors to check us . they have random searches
they put the tattoo on us . i dont trust them
do you ?

how nice of them

[He's being sarcastic, but honestly, it's more than Wilford and his goons ever did. The irony gets lost in the shuffle.]

i dont trust any one i have never met and i know the people in charge here will never come back to talk to me or you or regular people that is never how it works is it
why do you think their collecting us
i dont think its to do work for them
feels more like their saving us for later just in case they need us
got to make sure we dont run befour then

[ Grey doesn't know. He hates not knowing, and he hates how many people he likes are fine with it. Even Will, who is otherwise among the most intelligent people he has ever known. There's no one here who galvanises a need for rebellion, like Gilliam did. There's no leader like Curtis. There's no one to follow, so Grey is left with what looks like paranoia, and a need for action that few people are ever able to give him.

Except for Archangel. He wants to take Edgar there. ]

to use us
or our powers . to make us fight
to make us " heroes "
but we cant run . theres nowhere to go
not for us .

[ There's no home to go back to. And even if there was, even if they could go back to the Train, Grey doesn't think he would. Not after knowing something so much better. ]

so we do what we always did
we go forward

[It's a page, stolen in its entirety, from Curtis' handbook. Repeating those used to make Edgar feel better, to clarify things, but not as much lately. It doesn't matter, anyway. Maybe it will come back to him if he just keeps trying.]

[ Grey sets his phone down. He doesn't like this. It feels wrong, feels false. Edgar is asking him for guidance, and he knows he has to try and give people what they need. But Grey is not good at guiding, or leading. Not for the first time, he wishes Gilliam were here. Secondarily, he wishes that Curtis were here. Going forward without them is not easy. It was hard enough when he had to do that alone. Now there's two of them, equally lost. He leans back, eyeing the phone like it's an enemy.

Finally, he lifts it again. ]

is that ok ?

im not the leader
i dont decide for you

[ You can make your own decisions, he thinks. That's what people keep telling Grey. ]

fuck do i look like a leader of any one to you mate
its always what i done so i will keep doing it
reckoned it was the same to you but i don't control shite around here

[He's not sure what to do with the idea of Grey confusing Edgar for a leader. Yeah, it's something he'd like to think himself capable of, but let's be realistic. That's not happening today, or likely ever. He's not that man.]

[He's not Curtis.]

[ It makes Grey smile. He understands. Grey is not Gilliam. Edgar is not Curtis. Both of them are used to looking to others. That only makes sense. ]

i know
its ok .

gilliam would tell me to go on
thats what i will do .

[ He'd tell him to protect Edgar, too, like he once told him to protect Curtis. Grey feels very sure of that. ]

i could use some fucking gilliam wisdom right now if any comes to mind

[Edgar has no idea what Gilliam and Grey talked about late at night, but he wagers it was more insightful than being asked what he remembers and then told to shut up and go to sleep. Not that he's envious-- he wouldn't trade his time with Curtis for the world-- but he knows the difference between Curtis' brilliance for strategy and organization and Gilliam's somber and wide-reaching intelligence.]

[ So could Grey. Thinking of Gilliam makes him terribly sad, the sort of sad that doesn't really go away. It had been sharper at first, to the point where he hadn't wanted to think about Gilliam, or home, or the Train, or any of it. Now it's more settled. He doesn't think it will leave him, but it has become easier to bear. ]

he used to tell me about the earth
this earth
he told stories about things like trees and wind and the sea

when i saw the sea here . i thought of him
i wished he could see it

this world cant go like ours did . thats what hed say .

were the stories like this
he wasnt from america was he every one sounds different here
most of them any way

we have to protect what we can

[There are too few of them to do anything real, that's what Curtis would say. And then he'd start organizing. Edgar doesn't know how to do that, but he wants to learn. He'll have to, won't he? Unless-- until?-- Curtis shows up here, he has to do his best.]

no

[ To both. The stories weren't like this, and he wasn't from America. He was from somewhere else. Even after a year in this place, Grey is no great shakes with geography. Gilliam's country could be half a world away, or it could be in the next State. He doesn't know. ]

they came from books
when his eyes were good he read them
later we remembered . he talked about cities
people who fought over a girl . people who got in a horse made of wood

mountains with fire inside
boats that found sea monsters

stories .

[ Classical stories. The kind Gilliam thought should not have been lost, and also the kind he thought would inspire. Grey can hear his voice now, retelling them. Always the same words, memorised, always whispered close to his ear so that it was private even though there was no privacy.

Grey misses that desperately. ]

his heroes always won .

do you know if they have those stories here
i would like to hear them if you don't mind i mean

[He understands the privacy of memory, though he can't explain why. That urge is what caused him to wish his mother's face into existence.]

IC Contact

10/23.

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sent from my iphone christ

somehow i pegged grey as more of an android user.

what heresy

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