ardent | 012. Video/Action for Goldenrod City

012. Video/Action for Goldenrod City

[VIDEO]

[Ishimaru is outside again today, seeming to be taking advantage of the nice weather while it holds; at least he's looking at the camera today, and his gaze is shifting...a little less, maybe. He still seems a bit tired but at least he's calm; the view behind him is, once again, that square in Goldenrod near the Center.]

The place I came from put a lot of emphasis on punishment...both for what we did, and what we didn't do. Failure to act in a certain way, to do as we were told, was punished; failure to not act in the way that we were expected to was likewise punished. Rules and laws and "justice" were used to control us, not to guide or help us; instead of keeping us safe, they were used to tear us down.

No matter what we did, we were going to be wrong.

[His voice remains firm but calm through all that; he's not shouting, but he doesn't seem about to cry, either. Just...working through it, really.]

When situations are hard like that, and seem unwinnable, it's easy to forget what justice is intended for. It's meant to protect people, and most importantly, it's meant to give people hope - for themselves, and for the future!

So even if...even if you haven't always done what's right, even if you've made mistakes or taken punishment - if you choose to do right afterwards, the wrong you've done doesn't have to define you!

I think there comes a time when you deserve to be considered good again!

[...yep, there's the shouting.]

It's not going to be easy - it's something I'm still working on, too. But if we're willing to work hard and not lose hope, I think we'll all be all right, in the end! We just have to do our best.

I hope today is both good and productive for you, and if not, I know that tomorrow will be better!

[ACTION]

[Returning to Goldenrod City has been...strange.

It's not strange in the way that coming to a new place tends to be strange, or perhaps returning to an old place that's changed drastically in your absence; there's no lack of familiarity, and if anything the strangeness is caused by just the opposite - there's a weird sense of returning home to it, and Ishimaru isn't entirely sure what to do with that. He hasn't felt that way since before Hope's Peak; it's weird to experience it now, but it's not altogether unwelcome.

...granted, it's not something he has long to dwell on; he finishes the video and takes a while to just...collect himself, but eventually he heads back to the house. And as soon as he manages to get the front door opened there's a sudden sharp skittering of nails against the floor and the vibrations of twenty-odd Eevees hup-hup-hupping their way down the stairs, and he flinches a little and braces for the moment where the swarm hits -

And then there's a thud, and there is quite simply nothing.

...

... ... ...

Huh.

It takes him a moment to open his eyes, given that they'd slid closed while he was in the middle of preparing for impact; apparently the thud was the fuzzball legion all sitting in unison, and now they're just kind of parked on the floor and headtilting like confused pugs because grandpa's home and we sat and why is he just standing there.

He's clearly going to be spending some time playing with the fuzzballs today, because oh my god they did so well. c: ]

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[It feels strange, to be talking about this sort of thing with an adult, much less one who works for law enforcement; normally he'd assume this is some sort of test, to make sure that he can justify whatever he's throwing out there and isn't just screaming about idealism for idealism's sake.

But somehow he doesn't...think that's what this is. He doesn't know what this is, but he doesn't think it's that. In some ways it's a little unsettling, in others...well, welcome to conversations with Carter Blake, really.

The question makes him think of Celes, and that time all those months ago when he actually saw her upset and screaming and covered in blood; it makes him think of the very few times he's talked about Maizono, and the talks he's had with Mondo about Fujisaki. It's not an easy thing to answer, but maybe he has more experience with it than most.]

Well...like I've said, all the bad things they've done aren't going to go away. It's possible that some people might never really forgive them for what they did - whatever it was - and that's their choice. No one can make people forgive them, because that should be their choice, how they decide to handle it.

But sometimes people do terrible things, and you know they're terrible - but no matter what was done, it always feels worse somehow if the person doesn't show any remorse for it, isn't it? I mean, you can find the crime unforgivable either way, but a lack of feelings about it makes the person seem not even human anymore.

I think people...want each other to do good in whatever way they can, whether what they've done before is forgivable or not.

[He may be young, but something about this kid is insightful. Honest. He doesn't run anything through the protective filters of bullshit that most people use to get by. He says what he means, and that's so rare that it takes a while to get used to.

Blake looks down at the ground as Ishimaru talks. He thinks about a guy on the floor, arm stretched up awkwardly to the cuff on the bar on the table. Drug runner. Eyes closed, breathing in little quiet pants, red trickle at the corner of his mouth. A satisfying ache in your knuckles meant you were getting somewhere.

In the end he'd gotten the names.

The worst part about what the kid says is that it makes sense.

Blake exhales roughly. The standard line is, Time to come clean.]

I'm not a good guy, Ishimaru.

[He doesn't hesitate; he just throws a private filter on it and is done with it. He's locked down channels often due to...well, his classmates just being who they are and their circumstances in Hope's Peak being what they were; it's more or less second nature by now.

He seems a little unsure, maybe, but he's still there.]

You can tell me about it, if you want.

[Now that he's talked himself into a corner, he doesn't know where to start.]

It was...complicated shit. There was always a good reason, you know? It was never just that I woke up and thought, hey, today I'm gonna break some gangbanger's face for the fun of it.

It was all about results.

[...Okay. Okay, right, that's...

Just let him kind of settle for a moment, despite the urge to go off about how there's never a good reason, and just breathe and refocus because he's not here to pass judgement. Or at the very least, he shouldn't be.

After a moment his thoughts find Kuwata-kun, and...ah.]

...It's easier to be terrible to people if you think they deserve it, too. Right? If they're a bad person already, it's easier to do whatever you can to get the result you want.

Damn right. Some of the shit these sons of bitches did-

[Blake notices that his fist is curled until the short nails bite into his palm. He forces it to relax. Breathes in deep and looks past that old, reliable friend of an excuse.]

They all say they didn't do it. Christ, you get so fucking sick of getting lied at. Maybe some of them were telling the truth. I'll never know.

[Blake scrubs a hand over his face.]

I'll never know if I killed him, either.

[Ishimaru closes his eyes as he listens to that, finding it hard to make eye contact with the device; he breathes deeply, nodding a bit on the exhale, and he reminds himself silently that there's a place he can go after this if he wants to, somewhere cold and impartial and quiet, but for now he's needed here.

The one good thing about going back to Hope's Peak is finding out that that place exists; most people would probably argue with him about it, saying it's not a good thing at all and he really needs to not use it, but they wouldn't know, now, would they.

He presses his hands into his lap, his nails digging into his thighs a bit. ]

You'll never know if you killed who?

[He can't be telling this to this kid. This kid respects him. That's what he wants, right? Somebody who looks up to him and thinks he's the good guy.

Even if that's not everything he is.

Is it even fucking fair to the kid to tell him this? It's not his problem, he's got enough to worry about. Or is that just cowardice talking?

You can't just let somebody believe you're someone you're not.]

This is gonna sound fucking nuts. Hell, could be I lost my mind. That'd explain a lot.

[Shit, how does he even start?

In the end, he rattles it off like a typewriter.]

See, where I come from, there's this guy. He was a suspect for a while, big kidnapping and murder case. Ugly shit. Everything said it was him. Turned out it wasn't. He gets cleared, the kid lives, it's all happily ever fucking after.

Except his kid says he's dead. And he says it was me.

...But you don't remember doing any of it.

[That doesn't mean it didn't happen; Ishimaru's still got a gap in his memories large enough to drive a boat through. But still, that's...]

Is it possible that the kid had his memories affected? Maybe by the person who did the kidnapping...

[Blake shakes his head.] You can't change somebody's memories. Bash them in the head so hard they lose some, yeah, but you can't go putting in anything new. The bastard who kidnapped him was [nails biting into his palm again] an evil son of a bitch, but he wasn't fucking magic.

I remember it. Clear as fucking day. He comes out of the warehouse, snipers are on him, that journalist lady comes out with him, we stand down.

[He's staring down at his hand, flexing on his leg. Feeling the rain down the back of his neck. It'd felt like a long time they stood there, waiting.]

But that's not the way the kid says it happened.

[Looking for that first motion.]

He says I gave the order.

[That's true, he supposes; from what he's experienced, he knows that everyone had memories removed, but he's not sure that anything was changed...hm.]

...I know people who have killed others. I've sent someone to die, and I tried to kill ten people, including myself.

Maybe some people would call giving that order unforgivable, if you did it at all, but I'm not going to.

I don't believe you.

[It's not angry or accusatory. Just a statement of fact. Ishimaru and sending somebody to die doesn't add up.

Unforgivable. Yeah, that's about the size of what Shaun's face said, every time he saw him.]

I would've. I still thought he was the one out there drowning little kids. If he'd made one false move... [he spreads his hands] I'd've had him shot.

He didn't, so I didn't. That's not how the kid tells it, though. Every detail's the same except that one little thing.

[He drops his hands and sighs, looking like an old, tired man.]

You know Shaun Mars, right? I'm surprised he hasn't told you about it.

...Maybe I'll tell you about it sometime, if you want to know.

[But that isn't the point, is it.]

I know Shaun Mars, yes! He's stayed with us a bit in the past...he's a nice kid, and he told me something happened, but he didn't tell me what, exactly. He implied that his brother died in a car accident; he said he has nightmares when it rains, which I'm guessing relates to the drowning...?

He also implied that he knows you, but he didn't say anything either way about that.

You can if you want. You don't gotta. [a twitch of a bitter smile.] I'm not gonna fuckin' interrogate you.

[Of course the kid would have nightmares in the rain. Who doesn't?

He can't look Ishimaru in the face.]

It was his dad.

...And it's hard to not know for sure if that really happened, right? I had to verify with someone that I hadn't killed any of my classmates after a certain point; it's not the same thing, but it's hard to deal with not really knowing.

[...]

I don't think you're a bad person - maybe you'll just call me naive again, but I think there's a difference between being a terrible person and being someone who's done terrible things.

I don't know. I know it happened the way it happened. But the kid says he's been dead for months.

[He wants to protest that he knows Ishimaru wouldn't kill anybody. Then again, he knows he'd never shoot an innocent man, either. Look how that turned out.

He's expecting horror. A How could you, or a How could you hide this at the very least.

He's not expecting understanding, and the shock is stark on his face.]

You think so?

...Yes.

[He doesn't miss that look; he isn't altogether sure what to do with it, or how he feels about it, but he's not changing his mind, either.

He hesitates just the same, though.]

I told you some things about the situation in the school, correct? About how we're all locked in there and can't get out or contact the outside, and the person who did it is making us kill each other? That's the condition for if we want to leave - we have to kill one of our classmates and get away with it. We were given things that could be used as weapons, and goaded once in a while by the person responsible.

One of the girls tried to kill someone and ended up stabbed to death in a shower with her own knife; the boy who did it tried to say that it was self-defense, but there was a lot of evidence that says that probably wasn't the case.

One of the boys had problems that the person responsible used to their advantage and manipulated; he ended up having an episode and bludgeoning a smaller boy to death. He didn't even remember doing it.

According to people who are from further in the timeline than me, I'm going to lose my mind in about twelve hours. I become violent and unstable to a point where someone believes I hurt someone else and smashes my head in - I've seen the weapon he's going to use to do it, this last time in the school. He's going to get killed by the girl who told him to kill me shortly after.

Another girl is going to commit suicide. Another boy is nearly going to be crushed, and the only thing that saves him is a mechanical failure. One of the other girls thought she was safe, but her sister set up a trap for her and she was impaled on something.

[His voice is strange, when he recounts all that; it's almost alarmingly empty, devoid of the usual emotion behind his words. He's reciting it like he would facts from a textbook; his gaze is going a bit distant, but he's still there.

He's just very, very tired. Maybe not physically, but the sort that takes everything out of you mentally.]

Every time someone dies, we have a trial. During that trial, we're supposed to find out who the culprit is; we talk about the evidence we found, because we're allowed a few hours to investigate the body, and then we have to vote on who we're handing over to the person running the game. If we're right and hand over the murderer, they get executed; if we're wrong, we're all killed and the murderer is allowed to leave the school.

I handed over one of my classmates to die, and deliberately affected the vote of another trial - I didn't want to see the culprit executed for personal reasons, and we thought the vote had to be unanimous. So I voted for someone else and hoped that in the best case scenario I would be killed for voting incorrectly, and in the worst that everyone else would die but the culprit would be spared.

[The funny thing is, if you got something ugly to get off your chest, Blake isn't a bad one to tell it to. After all his years on the force, there's not much left that can shock him. He just takes it in.

He's done a lot of hearing this kind of story. Usually it takes coaxing and questions, leading them on, trying to get it all straight and calling them back when they break down crying or stare into nowhere. It would have made his job a lot easier if there were more like Ishimaru who just listed off the facts.

Of all the sick shit he's seen in his life - and there's a list that'd take days to read down - this is something special. Something elaborate. Usually the nasty shit gets its special oomph from the makeshift brutality that comes in the heat of the moment. A head smashed in a freezer door, a nailfile through somebody's hand. The rarest thing is a plan.

What Ishimaru is talking about is orchestrated. Meticulous pre-fucking-meditation. Most murders don't actually have that many moving parts. Guy shoots a guy with a gun. Maybe if he's the real intellectual type, he thought about it first. The real world's messy and unpredictable. You don't really see elaborate horror-movie mad-scientist set-ups.

He can think of one exception.]

Christ. That is a special kind of sick. Making you into a part of the machine.

[Don't even do the dirty work yourself - give them no choice but to do it for you.

Conviction darkens Blake's eyes.]

It was never you. Any of you. You get that, right? There was one murderer there. They just used some of you as the fucking weapons. No real court in the god damn world would hold you responsible.

Now, the other way around, if I was up on one of those trials of yours... [There'd be some kind of weird justice in that. In front of a court of kids, for a crime that a kid suffered for.

It's a total honesty that he looks at Ishimaru with. In a way, it's kind of comforting. Bright and certain as headlights when you're standing in the middle of the road.]

I wouldn't give a lot for my chances.

[There's something about that that actually seems to relax him; he has no idea what it is about the way Blake's put it that's managed to shift something inside his head but the fact is that something has, and it's not the sort of shifting that he's been experiencing for the last couple of months, either. That's been largely unpleasant, the sort of thing that gets his hackles up and makes him want to retreat back into his head, where it's cold but it's quiet and most importantly it's safe; this is more like something he hadn't realized he'd needed to hear, but now that he has...

Well. There's a sense of relief to it, one that runs deep.

He shuts it away for now, though, and focuses on the rest.]

Whatever would have happened in one of our trials wouldn't have meant anything, though - they didn't determine whether someone was a good or a bad person, and they didn't determine whether someone actually deserved to die for what they did. They were murder, too.

[Blake's not really used to anything he says making anybody feel better.

This kid has to know that it's not his fault. That's important. He can't do a damn thing to hurt the son of a bitch who did this to him, but maybe he can point his hate in the right direction.

Blake shakes his head.] A real court wouldn't be kind, either. I wouldn't be put under for it, but...yeah, if I didn't have people on my side, I'd get put away for a long time.

[He's always known that. It's different to say, though.

The kid should know the truth.]

I've hurt a lot of people bad, Ishimaru. And there wasn't any gun to my head.

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012. Video/Action for Goldenrod City

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