laytondressing | 'Cause Descole's a Creative Genius

Layton...

[He's trying to understand what she means by that and he sighs. He's trying to find safety as well, but Layton is the least of his worries.]

So, Hershel is different where you're from?

...he's a monster, where I'm from.

The... the Triton boy left him, and he went insane.

A monster? That hardly sounds like the Layton I know.

[In his world, he has a monster, but Layton is not him. Could this be a substitute for the evil in his life? No, she is an impostor. Remember that Jean. Do not fall for it.]

How is he a "monster"?

...well, he held me captive, and then mutilated and tortured me. Perhaps not like the Layton that you know, but... he wasn't like the Layton I had known before that.

[Except... except that he had been like Layton, even when he'd been carving her up. Descole gags at the thought of it, covering her mouth and looking away from her double.]

[He notices her expression change and turns a bit. Whatever she went through was the same as him. He had been tortured and abused, but he wasn't about to tell his life story. Well, but what if it was only himself?]

Physical torture is hellish, isn't it?

...quite.

[She shudders, putting her hand up to cover the mask over her good eye.]

...particularly from Layton.

[Descole walks over to her in puzzlement. He obviously wants to know what's going on, but how do you go about asking someone about that? She reminded him too much of himself. How could he talk to her? He had an overwhelming feeling that he needed to.

[Quietly, he starts.] What did he do to you?

[Descole just... babbles, a little. She's told enough people about this since arriving here that she'd expect it to be better, but instead it's just more painful every time. This is her double, though.]

He... he gouged my eye out. Took a knife to my back and legs and whipped me with a rope when he didn't have me completely tied up. Carved his name into my chest. Made it so... so anyone would know, afterwards--

[She cuts herself off, hiding her face in her hands.]

[He looks down ans shakes his head. He hopes not to have to explain his abuse he went through.]

[She's so fragile and so hurt. He knew her pain, and he knew what that felt like. But Layton?]

Did you have parents?

[It's the only way he can sympathize. Say something similar.]

[She shakes her head, not moving her face from her hands.]

T-they've been... gone for as long as I can remember.

[Peering up through her fingers, she bites her lip and worries it with her teeth.]

Why do you ask?

Because I did.

[He shakes his head worried, about what he should say.]

One of my parents was abusive. I know what it feels like. This isn't like you. You are me, after all. I've had my world torn apart, and I have had my plans ruined repeatedly. But I've been able to be strong enough to go through it. I think you can.

[He wasn't sure what to say. Descole doesn't want to see his equal upset, it brought back memories. He hopes he gains her trust so she can maybe help him out.]

[Shuddering again, Descole lets her hands drop. It's been long enough since what Layton did to her that - honestly - she doesn't believe her double is correct. She doesn't even know how to go about starting, because living like this has become her life. Avoiding Layton, knowing that no matter how hard she's hiding, if he wanted then he could find her.

She doesn't know how she'd go about even trying to 'get through it' and end up with some sort of passable imitation of a normal life if she gets out of this place. And... the one thing that she tried to do to help with that was an unmitigated disaster from start to finish.]

I... I think you're overestimating me, double.

[Descole smirks and shrugs. He knows the life she's living. Running from an abusive man, trying to hide and throw away your whole self and who you were. He knows this life because he's living it as will. And he hates it.]

Well, if you're me, then you know what we've been through. We don't have to be too scared. I think we can seek asylum here, anyway.

Y-yeah. More or less.

[Except that new people seem to be arriving every day, and Descole has already gotten to the point where she can't sleep for fear of her Layton being one of them. The calm of those first few days - when she'd been the only one here - are long gone now, and she knows that she's a jittery mess. She doesn't know how to change that, though, never mind what her double says, because the knowledge that Layton isn't here doesn't stop the nightmares, or the memories even when she's awake.]

There's... no control over who arrives here, though. But the fifteenth floor should be safe for the moment, I suppose.

[She's rather proud of that workmanship, if she's honest.]

I've rigged the place to look like it's unsafe, in the hopes that any people who are unsafe will be turned away from it. There's enough floors in this building that I hope people won't be too suspicious about one of them apparently being out of bounds.

[Descole smiles admirably.]

I noticed that. I actually was wondering whether or not this piano was trap, but upon looking at it, I saw nothing. I take it you didn't touch this.

[Anyone could come through. Does that mean he could approach the man he didn't want to see? No. Jerome didn't know where he was. He had no idea where he lived. There was no way he could get trapped in this portal could he?]

Well, if it's the fifteenth floor you say, I'd like to join you, Miss Jean.

I... playing piano isn't something that I've done in a very long time, no. I'd feel too open, if I'm honest.

[She nods, taking a step away and then stopping.]

You're welcome to join me up there, double, so long as you can stand the company of Luke Triton. Though, I suppose the rooms are big enough that avoiding him wouldn't be too hard.

[He sighs and nods.]

Luke Triton. Well this should be interesting.

[He begins following her out. This whole place is rigged and most likely, if it wasn't made by another Descole, there was no way he would be able to disipher the puzzle. It was admirable.]

Music has been my second passion along with, well, my escapades. But that's a different story.

It's an older version of him. ...well, he's the age he would have been in my world, by the looks of things, but you understand my meaning.

[Worrying her lip between her teeth again as she leads him to the elevator, Descole watches her double once they're in it and moving.]

I... miss music, I must admit. But, as I said, it makes me feel too open. I lose myself in it, and while I'm playing I cannot put my full attention into my surroundings.

Hm, maybe an older version isn't too bad.

[He looks at her figure following her out, noticing she was just as scrawny as he was. He knew how it felt to be afraid to be open. He new perfectly well.]

You don't eat do you? I haven't eaten anything but fruit or vegetables in years. Where you ever in dance? I find myself in great control when I'm by myself. I cannot do anything musical with other people around.

He was... kind to me, even after seeing some of my scars.

[Descole lets out a faint sigh, looking away from her double for now.]

I eat as much as I need to, double. Although I must confess that my diet also sounds much less healthy than yours; I'm more accustomed to just meat and starchy foods like bread or pasta, myself. Fruit and vegetables are a shamefully rare part of my diet.

Dance is... not something that I've ever done, no. I suppose that part of the problem is not feeling safe even when alone. I fear that I won't remain alone, you see.

[Nodding at her words, he sighs back.]

I understand. For me, music is the only thing I can get lost in, and feel safe. It's amazing how we can be doubles and think soI differently, but similar at the same time.

I shouldn't be spilling my heart out to you. I don't know who is listening, for one. For another, you've for your own problems, you don't need mine as well.

[This must have been a test for him. The whole situation seems so unreal, his only idea was it being a test. Who would put him up to such a thing, and why? He supposes he needs to stop being so open. Who else could be here watching? It was no comforting thought.]

Well... in the elevators, at least, I believe that we're more-or-less safe from prying eyes. Definitely in my rooms, if you'd rather hold off until then.

[When the elevator stops, she steps out, ducking under one of the ropes marked with a 'Caution' sign.]

Ignore the signs, as I said; they're my own work.

Frankly, in regards to telling me your problems... it's nice to know, in a sense, that we're not exactly the same, while not so different as to be unrecognisable as versions of the same person. And if music is the only thing that you can lose yourself in safely... well, the problems of others are my equivalent. For some people, the telling helps, and in that way I'm able to help with their troubles, and not dwell on my own for as long as the telling takes.

[At least, that's what Descole has justified her meetings with the convict Clive Dove as. Layton isn't visiting him - and the boy is lucky for it, despite missing the professor he remembers - so Descole takes his place. Doing the same with her double, as it were, is even better in that she can fool herself into thinking she's actually helping herself, even if she can't lose herself in that connection the way she does with others. No matter how emotional she gets, she cannot mix him up with herself. Though, perhaps his being the one person she cannot mix up with his equivalent in her world works as a measure of her remaining sanity; when her emotions become enough that she can no longer differentiate between herself and her own doubles, as she already struggles with others and their doubles, then what sanity remains at present will have left her.]

I suppose this is safe enough.

[No matter how bad he wants to get the truth if his life off his chest, he knows it is the only thing holding back. His resistance to let the past go has helped his plans fail more than once. His memories where enough to eat himself from the inside out. They were enough to mess with his whole sense of being.]

[Thinking back, he finds it strange she has more normal eating habits than he. He can't eat anything without feeling weak, how can his own double survive of meat and pastas? Hw almost felt jealous.]

Good work. If I had been here long enough, I probably would have done the same thing.

[Should he just tell her his problems. She was his double, in the sense, wasn't she? Well, if she wasn't, who could she be? Maybe he will wait until she pries. Descole doesn't need to feel any weaker than he already does.]

You wouldn't know where to find a cup of tea in a place like this, would you?

[Pushing open the door to her set of rooms, she gestures for her double to follow her in.]

Tea, I can handle. This place seems to stock its cupboards rather well, even if the things don't seem to actually come from anywhere. Never look a gift horse in the mouth, I suppose.

How do you take it?

[She sets about preparing it while she waits for his answer, although she's only got the one cup out. She's contemplating raiding the mini-fridge again, although after the last time she had alcohol that's... probably inadvisable, really. Glancing back at her double, she leans herself against the counter and starts to remove her cloak, though she leaves the boa in place. It hides some of her scars, after all.]

Do you drink, double? I'm undecided as to whether I should touch the stuff again, after the last time.

Black, please.

[He removes his cloak as well and keeps his muffler on. He isn't sure what to think about the place he's in, especially still with this woman.]

I do drink. Every now and then that is. Usually not alone.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject