laytondressing | (no subject)

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[The Layton sitting on a chair in the lobby doesn't look particularly bothered by the fact that he's somewhere new. In actual fact he's just calmly drinking a cup of tea that got dragged along with him. Someone will come tell him what's going on, he's certain of that. And why put in the effort to go searching for information, when it'll come to him with no effort on his part?]

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[His interest has been caught.]

But it was to my understanding that you felt I was inferior to you. With that in mind, surely he would come running back into your arms.

After what I'll do to bring him back from this, it's possible that he'll hate me whether or not I'm superior to you. The way that things stand for me, I am... willing to take that risk, for Clive.

Do you love him?

...do you think that either of us is capable of that, double?

No, certainly not.

But I suppose that you come close enough.

And if you would sacrifice yourself for the sake of your Clive... then that would be beneficial to me.

[That first part has netted you a slightly pitying look there, Monocle.]

If it helps you to understand my reasoning, well... I wasn't surprised to hear that I'm dead in Clive's time. Consider the meaning of that.

You died for him? How... interesting.

[He snorts.]

I see I wasn't wrong about your idiocy.

No, double, I didn't die for Clive. It would do more harm to him if I died than vice versa. But suffice to say, without the intervention of this place I would have been dead already.

Then how fortunate for you that my dimension saw fit to accept you.

[Another snort.]

I'd thank you, but I really don't think that you actually have any control over the place.

It depends what you mean by control.

You have no say in who arrives in or leaves this place. If you did, I'm rather certain that I wouldn't be here.

Perhaps you were a curiosity. But you're right, regardless - I have no control over who arrives at or leaves this place.

Quite.

[Leaning back in his chair, Roulette gives Monocle a long look.]

...tell me about your world.

Why should I do that?

[How dare you demand spoilers, good sir! How very dare you!]

[...how is it spoilers when you're from the past, moron?]

Because I'm asking nicely, and I'm interested in the differences between us.

[BECAUSE MY PAST IS DIFFERENT AND BETTER! HMPH!]

I'm sure you can establish the differences between us easily enough without such information.

In that case, presumably you can tell me all about my world.

Of course not, because your world is different and apparently I'm too idiotic to make such judgments.

[He sighs.]

Just answer the question, would you? I want to know how our worlds split.

From what I gather, I believe our worlds split around the time that we start to torture Clive.

I'm not so sure of this. I've had this scar since before that, after all, and yet you're without it.

...Then tell me how long you've had the scar for.

Just before Clive first announced himself as leader of the resistance. May ninth, Tottenham Court Road. An unaffiliated group of rebels blew up the underground station, and a week later Clive publicly announced himself in order to denounce that group and their methods.

In that case, our worlds must have divided at a much earlier stage. Which makes us far too different for it to be worth you fathoming the situation further.

[Also, because no spoilers.]