PRIVATE MEETINGS

[andexecutioner]

If you'd like to have a private meeting with the Adjudicator, this is where you should go! The Adjudicator is available at almost all hours of the day; just knock and he'll answer.

Comments are screened for privacy; no eavesdropping, that's rude.

Comments

[andexecutioner]

[Usually Juri is in the practice of just kind of yelling for whomever's out there to come in, given that this room is vaguely less soundproof than the dorms; tonight, though, it seems that either he's waiting for someone or he's just having difficulty sitting the hell down and staying that way, since he'll be coming to open the door in person for once.]

...Yeah?

[Walter, you never come to his door, why are you deciding to be the one who knocks now of all nights - ]

[bluemeanie]

[He is the one who knocks.]

...Hello.

[Walter holds out a sealed thing of "non-alcoholic wine" and two glasses.]

I was wondering if we could have a chat. I got this from the machine - sealed, since there's...probably some concern about that.

[andexecutioner]

...Just a bit, yeah. But I can't say I'm opposed, either.

[He tips his head back toward the office, a clear indication to follow and come in; come on, then, let's talk.

The office is pretty nice, actually, all done up in wood and leather; the shelves have a fair amount of books on them, though they don't seem to be titled, but other than that there are a few things that look a little out of place here and there - the model glider and dice sets from the machine, a chessboard and a few decks of cards from the game room and a trio of stuffed cats with little ribbons tied in bows around their necks - one white with a red ribbon, one orange with black, and a calico with green.

The desk itself doesn't seem to have a lot on it - a lamp for the sake of not killing his eyes, one of the d20s from the dice set, and a different type of board from the game room used for European solitaire; he picks up the d20 and starts toying with it idly between his fingers once he sits down, leaning over the desk as he does so.]

What's on your mind?

[bluemeanie]

[Well, there's enough tack here for one lifetime. He didn't expect anything less, honestly. He sits down at the chair in front of Juri, and sets the bottle and glasses down. He unseals the bottle, and pours the liquid into the glasses. He spins his glass idly in his fingers, making some sort of face as he thinks, before he speaks up.]

I don't suppose you saw what I did earlier in the week.

[...right, I guess he's gonna take a sip from his glass to punctuate that sentence. Might as well, just to show there's no ill will in that.]

[andexecutioner]

[...Well, this is already more interesting than a lot of conversations he's had in his time, let's put it that way. He doesn't move to drink right away; he does set his dice down after a long moment, picking up the glass and toying with that instead. Giving his hands something to do, really.]

I'd be kind of a bad overseer if I had no idea, wouldn't I?

[bluemeanie]

Well.

[He shifts his positions a bit, placing both his hands on the table, folding them as he speaks.]

...Death from ricin poisoning tends to take place anywhere between 36 to 72 hours after exposure. It has to be happen sometime tomorrow. So, as of tomorrow, I will either be out of here. Or you'll kill me.

Just figured we'd get everything out on the table.

[andexecutioner]

That sounds about right.

[He tilts his head a little at that, really; takes a sip of that drink. It's fuckawful, in his esteemed goddamn opinion, but it could be worse. He supposes.]

It's probably in poor taste to wish you luck, and you probably don't want that from me anyway.

[bluemeanie]

No obvious signs of death. No discoloration of the skin. I'm completely unconnected. It'd be a relatively pointless gesture, wouldn't it?

[You really should have stocked the machine with actual alcohol.]

I did have a suspicion about something, and I was wondering if you could confirm it for me while we're here.

[andexecutioner]

[Well, you know what they say about hindsight.]

Depends on what it is. Whatever it is, I'll hear it; if it's something I can't or won't answer, I'll tell you, but if I can then I don't see why not.

[bluemeanie]

I was dead. Or at the very least...close to death before I came here.

[There's a small amount of silence after that. You could hear a pin drop.]

If these dreams are memories, that's the only logical conclusion.

[andexecutioner]

[He'll glance over at that, though it isn't long before he's returned his attention to the glass; he'll take another drink of it before continuing. Weighing options, really, though at least it doesn't take him long to settle on a decision.]

You were, yeah.

[bluemeanie]

[There's no immediate response in Walter, no rapid-fire change in expression that takes place, outside of a single nod.]

It didn't take much to figure it out. I...needed that extra push.

[Walt comes very close to a sigh, but stops. Stares.]

My wife and child detest me. My brother-in-law is dead because of me. If I'm dead, there's...no doubt I must've figured out a way to secure their financial future. I wouldn't allow myself to pass without doing it. If I'm victorious tomorrow, there's nothing more I can do. Nowhere to go. I'd have no reason to live.

[andexecutioner]

[Juri's expression doesn't falter any at that, though a slight shift does take place; it's gone kind of cold, really, though there's no agitation behind it.]

I'd imagine you're telling me all this for a reason...?

[bluemeanie]

I wanted to thank you.

[...huh.]

[andexecutioner]

[That...well, then.]

...What for?

[bluemeanie]

Your motive.

[He adjusts himself in his seat again. He picks up his drink, and speaks, rationalizing every word both to himself and Juri.]

My legacy - the thing that I've built with my own damn hands. That's all I have left. By threatening that, I suppose that...you've given me motivation. To defend it. To do anything, really. Call it peace of mind, call it cold-hearted murder. Both of them work fine.

I can't have a happy family life, I've come to terms with that. I am well beyond that, as much as I'd love to deny it. But it can't all be for nothing. My work. My struggles. My sacrifices. My empire.

[Walt spins his drink, but his expression doesn't change.]

To the point, I've had an epiphany. If I'm beyond saving, if I can't be remembered as a family man, the grand patron saint nabbed from this great big beautiful life by some terrible disease that a desperate war was waged against. Well, maybe I wouldn't mind being remembered as a devil. It wouldn't be unfitting. To cast silence over rooms with the very mention of "Heisenberg".

[He takes a sip from his drink, finally. He doesn't notice the taste, nor does he particularly care.]

Food for thought.