laytondressing | (no subject)

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[Roulette is still around, of course.

(barring a... minor gap in his presence)

He's just calmly sipping a cup of tea in one of the restaurants close to the lobby. Most of the people here are, to his knowledge, from worlds like his own. So, he thinks, let them come, so that he might see the differences between his world and the others like it. And as for those from worlds unlike his?

Well. If Tyrannus is truly lost to him, what's a (former, while he's here) prime minister to do but find a new project to occupy his time?]

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[A new Clive walks past the restaurant, not even looking in, not even seeing him. Considering almost every day in this place brings new Clives or Laytons, there is nothing particularly noteworthy about this young man, except that his name-tag proclaims, "Hello, my name is Storm Petrel (Petrel)", so therefore he is probably new.

The clothing around the name-tag is slightly scuffed, suggesting that it has been attempted to be pulled off several times, before the wearer admitted defeat and decided to leave it there. But beyond the scuffs, Petrel's clothing looks pristine and perfect. A little too perfect. And the way he carried himself as he walked also suggested that he viewed himself as being a little too perfect. There's a confident arrogance in that stride, one that says, "Nothing can hurt me, because I belong to someone far more important than you".

For all intents and purposes, this Clive has not yet been broken.

Enjoy your new project.]

[An unbroken Clive is... an interesting sight. There's something different about Petrel, different to how Tyrannus has ever been--

(a little less vicious, less of the fire that Tyrannus had had even before Roulette had gotten hands on him)

-- and Roulette wonders, for a long moment.

And then he calls out.]

Clive.

[The voice rings out in Petrel's ears. His eyes widen momentarily, but by the time he's spun around to look towards where Roulette is sitting, the expression has changed to confidence.

He wanders over, clearly not aware of any reason why he should suspect this Layton isn't the one he' familiar with, but definitely a little curious about the change in wardrobe.

He comments on this.]

God, you look even more pompous than usual. Please don't tell me this has all been some grand publicity stunt, because if it has then I'll be pissed. Do you realise how London's been without you? What sort of moron do you have to be to wander off and leave idiots like Dimitri and Don Paolo at the helm, wondering what to do with themselves?

[After this length of babble, he shakes his head.]

Well, whatever. You're coming back with me now.

[An unbroken Clive, who seems to be aware of Roulette's (or, at least, his own Layton's) position and yet doesn't seem to know his own proper place. Yes, Roulette is definitely wondering.]

I'm afraid that that isn't an option. The place that we're caught in doesn't allow its residents to leave quite so easily.

[Watching Petrel over the rim, he brings his teacup back to his lips and sips at it.]

I wouldn't be so certain that I'm the Layton you know, either. You're rather more... uncouth than the Clive I know.

[Except. Not really. Well, Tyrannus tends towards being slightly more eloquent (at least in regards to swearing, and the subtlety of his insults).]

Yeah. Okay. Mind games. Do you think that I didn't get sick of those when you were still trying to break me?

[Petrel sighs, shaking his head.]

And what sort of person could keep you anywhere? You're Layton. I refuse to believe for a moment that the rebels could keep you hostage.

Also, if you want me to be less uncouth then teach me manners.

[He gathers that Petrel's Layton rather gave up on trying, by the sounds of things.]

The rebels? That rag-tag little bunch of imbeciles?

No. This place is the Dressing Room. A sentient building that traps its residents and toys with them on a whim.

Enjoy your stay.

[And he'll certainly be teaching you manners, you little shit.]

...What have you been smoking?

Are you seriously so dumb that you allowed the rebels to catch you and drug you?

[Another sigh, considerably more audible.]

Well done, Monocle. You're such a genius.

[...seriously, Twister. We are going to be having words about how you're a blight on the name of Monocle Layton.]

Come here, Clive.

Look closely at my eye and tell me, do you recognise the scar there, and how old would it need to be to look as it does?

[And Clive is all up in your personal space, staring at your scar and frowning.]

Is this the part where you tell me about your oh-so-tragic back story and expect me to feel sorry for you? Because, seriously, you should know me better than that by now. I don't give a fuck about Claire or anything else you might have lost in that explosion. Anything that happened in your past is worthless, I'm only concerned about what we're going to do in Dimitri's office when we get back.

[The point, it has been missed.]

The point is that I am not your Layton.

I don't... currently have access to my Clive. But he's already here - ergo, you're from... a different world.

[And he's about 99% certain he knows which one.]

I see you do share some qualities with Tyrannus, however.

Other Clives?

Who's Tyrannus?

[It's spoken in the tones of a girlfriend who's just discovered the other woman's name in your mobile phone's log. Given that you'd have to be a reeeeally possessive girlfriend to even go through a mobile log, but this is Clive.]

Edited 2012-08-07 18:26 (UTC)

In this place, multiple versions of people are drawn from multiple worlds. Tyrannus is the Clive from my world.

[Definitely some shared qualities, yes. Like the irrational jealousy.]

If I'm correct, I must admit he's also the Clive who's rather monopolised the Layton I believe to be from your own world.

So you're... not Layton?

Or not my Layton, anyway.

[That's only been the point that Roulette's been trying to get across for the past five minutes.]

Well, this could be a really bizarre attempt to get me to leave you alone. But after all you did to get me to work for you, I doubt that you'd want that. Especially considering all the stuff I could leak to the rebels.

But then you disappearing at all was bizarre as well...

[He frowns.]

If you can show me "my Layton" then I might believe you.

[Oh, fabulous. He's going to have to put up with Twister on top of everything else.]

On the condition that you'll give me the pleasure of sharing lunch with me after you've spoken to him.

Share lunch with you?

[Layton never offers to share lunch with him. Because that would involve Clive being at a table where there are probably other influential people who are important to the government and Layton can't have Clive messing that up.]

Now I know you're either not Monocle or crazy.

[Ahahahaha you think he's going to let you out in public. Like, ever.]

Share lunch with me, yes. I'll take you to see Twister, and then we'll eat together.

Yes?

In that order?

[Petrel kind of doesn't want to do it in that order.]

I would prefer for you to believe what I say before we dine together. If seeing Twister is what you require for that, then so be it.

Yeah, but if "Twister" is the Layton you claim is my own, then he's not going to want me to have dinner with you after he sees me.

Given that he's snatched Tyrannus out from my grasp, I don't intend to let him steal away another. And it's rather an uneven trade, besides that. I'll allow him to keep Tyrannus - a superior version of yourself - and make do with bettering you.

A superior version of myself?

How dare you!

If you think that I'm going to dine with you now then you're much mistaken. My Layton will claim me back, because he knows I'm the best and that no imitation Clive could be good enough.

[Roulette stands calmly, setting his tea down.

And then he shoots forward, grabbing Petrel by the wrist.]

I don't remember giving you a choice.

[He screams, tugging away as best he can. Which pretty much only results in giving himself a Chinese burn.]

Let go of me!

When my Layton finds out how you've been handling me he'll send you and your Clive packing!

Twister has claimed Tyrannus as his own. He will not want you.

I, on the other hand, am willing to... make do.

[Keeping his grip tight, he starts out of the cafe, heading for the elevator.]

[Petrel digs his heels into the ground, trying to bring them to a halt.]

M-my Layton's not like that... He'd never give me up for... for...

What's so great about your Clive anyway?