[video]

[ka_sera_sera]

[The lines and creases of his face are carved deep with stress. There are bags under his eyes. Neither of these things are going to be unusual, he thinks, and he's seen no reason to hide them. He'd be surprised to hear a one among all the Legionnaires have been getting a good night's sleep.]

You all know what happened on that ship. The Silent Horizon. My part in events was small but, in its way, not insignificant. I broke my oath. I believed I was holding to it, at the time; I allowed my arrogance and my- my grief to blind me to what I knew was right. I allowed myself to become something which would have killed every one of you, given half a chance, and dragged you all into hell with me. I had my doubts about all of you, all of this, but I see it's myself I should have been watching - should've watched my cowardice, but instead I allowed it to drive me, and in so doing broke the oath we all took. That was unforgivable, but I'm crying your pardon anyway. All your pardons, I suppose. Anyone who feels moved to give one. You who don't will, I guess, just have to learn to work with me. The Legion's purpose here is noble, after all, even if one of its members has forgot how to measure up.

[For a second he watches the screen, considering. That could, perhaps, have been more succinct. But it's been a long time since he's done something like this, and it would be shameful not to get it right.]

[No, he decides, that's it. That's all. He reaches out toward the screen, and the video ends.]

Comments

video

[captainbuzzkill]

[He's been hiding and staying quiet, but he feels the need to speak up here. Because this isn't his first time dealing with this. And that just aches. It isn't the same stinging hurt it was the first time, now it just aches deep in his bones and makes him feel ancient, when the oldest he should feel right now is old enough to walk to the school bus stop by himself.]

[He feels old. And tired. And he figures he can at least use that to help someone. The 'been there, done that'ness of it all. Bad things happen. You betray your friends and everything you stand for. You go back to normal. Your sister goes home and you leave her behind even more. The world turns.]

Speaking as someone who's been mind-whammied more than once at this point -- which is a lot of times since nobody should even be mind-whammied once -- it happens, man. It just...happens.

Bad guys like to hurt good guys and they like it even more if they mess us up so badly we think we actually want what they've done to us.

What happened isn't your fault. It's probably not a choice you would've made if something wasn't messing with your mind -- and that place messed with our heads even before he made his "offer."

[Quotey fingers. Because it wasn't an offer if the choice was forced by hypnotic mind control.]

Again, speaking from experience, no one's going to judge you for it. [They'd been incredibly kind the first time he got mind controlled.] So don't be as hard on yourself.

video

[ka_sera_sera]

It was my fault which caused it, in the end. My faults which were used against me. If it'd been a different kind of, ah, 'mind whammy'-

[And here he taps at a temple, meaning to indicate the very hypnosis Dipper's thinking about.]

-that would have been another matter. But as is-

[He stops, grimacing a little. Old wood creaks under him as he sits back, pulls the brim of his hat down to keep the sun out of his eyes. Is he really going to sit here trying to argue a boy into- What, into hating him?]

But it isn't my decision, is it, what you think of me. You're very kind.

[Kind, and very young, to carry such experiences. Roland's silent a second, frowning thoughtfully.]

Have you been taught to guard your mind? Won't do as much if you've not the talent in you but there are ways, at least, ways to slow an invader down, misdirect.

[captainbuzzkill]

Look, man, everyone has faults. Having some weird psychic thing exploit them makes the bad guy bad, not you.

And not really. My great uncle Ford was trying to do a thing that would guard my thoughts, with this machine he had, but we never got to finish it.

[ka_sera_sera]

[He's sighing when he switches this particular recording on, shaking his head. The boy's misunderstood. But he is a boy, and so Roland is more motivated than he might otherwise be to keep this from becoming an argument. That's why his voice stays, for the most part, patient.]

Should I leave my mistakes lying where they are, then, let them trip me up again later? A gunslinger - a Legionnaire - who won't work to seal up his own faults is due for a bad end in short order.

As for the rest, there's no guarding your thoughts without a Touch of your own [here he taps his temple again] - or perhaps a machine - but that doesn't mean there's no defense. If you'd like some practice, I'd teach you what I can.

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[mylawn]

I don't think anyone is going to blame you.

text

[ka_sera_sera]

It's not a matter of blame It's a matter of responsibility

[mylawn]

Don't think anyone will hold you responsible, either

[ka_sera_sera]

You misunderstand me This is as much about acknowledging the way forward as it is asking forgiveness

You must not do things this way in your world

[Damn it, he still gets the two terms switched around. And he still, it's worth noting, has not considered the existence of a backspace button.]

universe

[mylawn]

I know what you mean. I'm saying your beating yourself up about it doesn't help anyone.

[says this guy, who does absolutely nothing but beat himself up about things.]

[ka_sera_sera]

And ignoring it is more preferable?

[mylawn]

Also not what I said.

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[whyarewehere]

it's fine dude. you can chill.

[ Grif just hasn't been up to video for the last few days. ]

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[ka_sera_sera]

I don't know what that means

[It's a peevish and mostly untrue complaint - he can gather the meaning of the words well enough from their context. It's just frustrating, performing the proper practice in this situation - a practice near to ritual, and deeply meant - and have it dismissed so cavalierly.]

Isn't it clear enough why this is necessary?

[Video]

[legionnpcs]

[Babbage has no stress to show. That would require his face to be able to display any show of emotion at all. The faint sounds of jazz, on very low volume, plays in the background, about the only clue to his emotional state.]

Speaking as someone who's been in a very similar situation, no one on the team will blame you. My entire race was once forced to engage in an attempt at organic genocide. [If anyone on the Legion can understand what the Silent Horizon team went through, it's this guy.] You were not in full control of your faculties. If you were, it would be different, but in the case of an outside force affecting your minds... Well, the number of non-telepathic organics who can stand up to such a thing are few in number.

As far as I know, no one will be under investigation for their actions on the Silent Horizon.

[Video]

[ka_sera_sera]

[He nods acknowledgement.]

And one with the, ah, telepathy in him?

Well, nevermind. If an investigation hasn't been deemed necessary then it isn't. I'm learning that procedures here are very different from those in, ah- in what was a similar force, in my universe, to the Legion. There this wouldn't have been about blame. Here, I suppose, it must be. If an investigation had been decided would that have been its goal, assigning fault?

[Video]

[legionnpcs]

Depends on how well trained they are. Someone who's used to protecting themselves in that manner would be practically immune. However, someone who hasn't had the extensive training for that would possibly be even more vulnerable than the non-telepaths.

[It really depended.]

It depends on the investigation. Say, for instance, you had killed someone. The investigation would be to see whether the death was avoidable, whether you had done it, and whether you had a choice in the matter.

Discounting Element Lad's unfortunate circumstances, only one Legionnaire has ever killed. Livewire killed The Progenitor when the only other choice was to let him kill countless others. It was judged as the only option, and he suffered no punishment save what he brought upon himself.

[ka_sera_sera]

[By the time he replies he's wiped the grimace from his face. Communicating like this is damned useful that way; his distaste for the Legion's willful naivete - of course no one has ever been found at fault, not truly - his awareness that this very distaste helped the Faceless manipulate him in the first place, none of that has to have a part in this conversation. He doesn't have to cover any of it in order to reply, he only has to wait for it to pass.]

How often are Legionnaires found at fault for anything? Nevermind murder for the moment. Bad judgement, some flaw that cost a mission. I know the rules, of course, but even those seem fairly loose.

[Or maybe, even absent as it is from Roland's tone, his frustration hasn't passed as completely as he'd thought. In spite of that, though, he will probably need to understand. That much is true no matter the emotion which prompted the question.]

[legionnpcs]

In the rare event of such a thing occurring? Fairly often. However, these things are usually handled... in-house, as it were. It's rare for a Legionnaire's mistakes to lead to an official punishment, such as Brainiac 5's prison sentence or Andromeda's... Well.

[That's probably not his place to say.]

A side effect of the Legion being held in such high regard is that we're also held to a very high standard. Usually, such failures and violations lead to suspensions from active duty, assignments to monitor duty, and things like that.

[ka_sera_sera]

Ah, I see. I think. In the system I was a part of, once, in-house was the only house. We had to be sure to regulate ourselves. Here, where that isn't the case, your harshest punishments are reserved for those who step so far outside your boundaries that your political opponents notice.

[It isn't a subtle thing to say. It isn't a polite thing to say. It might, though, be a useful thing to say; he's hoping the reaction to that statement will tell him as much about how he's expected to behave in this culture as the answer itself. It's hard to get a good sense for a new place, sometimes. Especially when that new place dazzles and awes and then distracts with a new dose of old nightmares. It's been slow work to get a sense for the people of the Legion. If Roland could get there without seeming intentionally offensive, well, that would be ideal.]

[bachido]

[Kubo remembers Roland, both from his earlier invitation to meet the guy and from their meeting on Silent Horizon. He still feels regret at not being able to draw Roland out of the darkness, but there should be no regret between teammates.]

Would you like to come visit my mother's home and mine for tea? You would honor us with a visit.

[ka_sera_sera]

[His smile, when his video begins, is a little wry. Honor in this case sounds more like polite nonsense than it does anything else. But he hasn't come to tell Roland to be soft, go easy, that there's no fault to be found anywhere and no good reason to look for it, and that's something. The chance to try to mend things with one of those he'd met in that place, that would be something, too.]

The honor's mine. Kubo, isn't it? The...

[Details he hadn't found relevant at the time are harder to access but with some work, he can usually access them. With this one, it doesn't take long.]

The storyteller. I remember. I'd like to meet with you both, at your convenience. When do you take your tea?

[bachido]

You remembered me.

[Quiet happiness showed on Kubo's face. It was good to see Roland had come back to himself after all. He held a piece of paper marked with a map, hand-drawn, in front of the screen of his communicator. It showed his room, several doors down from certain landmarks - easy to follow.]

Here is a map of where Mother and I live. Do you know how they keep time here? They call the time 1600.

[ka_sera_sera]

[Unnecessary to memorize the map, when he could just open this video at any point and look at it again. He does it anyway, out of habit.]

Mhm, I know it. I'll be there.

[bachido]

[Kubo had left the door propped open so that Roland would know it easily when he came by.

The room was very simply furnished on the inside. At the center, a table dressed with a thick red blanket sat surrounded by low cushions, an iron tea set at the center of the tabletop. Besides the table and cushions, there was no other furniture, and a long table set against the wall right of the door held an electric kettle, hissing as the water warmed.

There was little decoration and the space was small, but the cheerful colors of the table's blanket and the embroidered cushions provided warmth, and the room was clean and tidy. The only other item to draw the eye in the room was a black cabinet about half as tall as Kubo set on a low table against the far wall, between two doors to his and his mother's sleeping rooms. Inside the cabinet were set a few small items of significance. A cup and plate, a holder for incense. Two bracelets of string, one black, one beige. Red leaves and a yellow orchid displayed in a vase, and a little box shaped like a scarab beetle carved from stone, its open wings the lid to the box. There was nothing inside, but the beetle appeared to be the most finely crafted piece in the altar, the other items looking simple and utilitarian beside it. An unlit paper lantern sat atop the cabinet, and a second shamisen leaned against the wall.

Kubo sat at one of the cushions by the kotatsu, playing his shamisen as he waited for his guest. A part of him had recoiled in initial fear when he'd seen Roland's post on the communicator, the part that remembered his hand fast-moving to the weapon Kubo had known could kill him faster than his father had died. He had clamped down on that initial recoil, though, to invite Roland into his home. First impressions could be overcome. And they ought to be, when the circumstances of those first impressions had been so bad. So Kubo waited, facing the door, and when Roland arrived, he set his shamisen aside to bow politely.]

Thank you for coming. The tea will be ready soon. In the meantime, please make yourself comfortable.

[He gestured to the low table and its cushions, as he went to pick the hissing kettle off its burner.]

[ka_sera_sera]

[For all the decoration's sparse there's quite a bit to notice here, and from the moment he steps in Roland's clearly looking around and noticing it. Even with frustration still sitting heavy on him Roland can see pieces of what must have been Kubo's home in the room here, in the furniture and its arrangement, and even now that is enough to spark his interest. There are so many cultures living on this manmade world, more than he's ever seen in one place. Some make themselves more obvious than others.]

[He spends a second thinking how to respond to the bow, decides a nod is probably enough, and when invited he sits, cross legged.]

It's good of you to invite me into your home.

[There ought to be more, oughtn't there? When he was young, all those diplomacy lessons fresh in his head, there would have been more to say. Or maybe it would simply have been easier, clear all this business out by speaking to Kubo as one young man to another. But it isn't then, it is now, and now all he can do is feel the silence start to stretch. He looks around again, before it can stretch too far, and lets his gaze settle on whatever part of the room seems the most notable.]

That instrument you were playing. I remember everything that happened, but I don't know what to make of all of it. I know you had it there. Does it only play music? Or is it more than that?