text; un: appleaday

[saudades]

hiiii everyone! you can call me dazai.

since we're all supposed to work together and get to know each other, i thought it would be fun to play a little icebreaker game that's popular on my earth ♥

it's called would you rather! the rules are pretty simple:

✦ post a hypothetical between two difficult choices
✦ have others choose between them, and offer their own hypotheticals in return
✦ go back and forth until you don't feel like playing anymore

noooormally, it'd be cheating to say something like both, or neither, but if you can come up with a really interesting alternative, i'll allow it~

feel free to respond to each other, as well! can't just let me go having all the fun, after all.

here's a few to get us started:

1) would you rather hurt someone to protect yourself, or get hurt protecting someone else?
2) would you rather be unable to have your favorite meal again, or be unable to get drunk again?
3) would you rather betray your boss or abandon your best friend?

[wdym these are weird questions, he's so normal. it's just a gaaaaame and definitely not a covert means of information gathering or anything. come on and play :)]

Comments

speech to text, un:castiel

[messenger]

[ if the questions are strange, castiel doesn't notice. he isn't familiar with this game, though he's borne witness to some that are similar — drinking games, car games that humans play when they get bored over long stretches of travel. pity for them that they can't fly.

but these questions all seem almost too easy. ]

One, I've done both. But being injured isn't any burden to me. I'm not easily damaged, and I heal very quickly.
Two, I don't have a favorite meal.
Three, I betrayed my boss for my ... friend.

[ all right. his turn? ]

Would you rather... uh. Lose your wings, or be caged?

[ he knows humans don't have wings.

it's just the first thing that pops in his mind. ]

[saudades]

[There's two, then. Not enough to be a pattern, just yet, but Dazai notes it all the same -- another that would choose self-sacrifice over self-interest. 'Damaged' is a notable choice of words, as well. He'll keep that one in his back pocket for another time.

Even more intriguing is the answer to the second question; it speaks to someone who eats for sustenance over pleasure, someone who doesn't really think much about what they're eating. There could be many potential reasons for that -- depression, poverty, congenital anosmia -- yet the man doesn't explicitly choose alcohol, either. It could be implied, perhaps, but is it?

He doesn't press. Not yet, anyway. Instead, he focuses on the question posed to him; he assumes the intent is metaphorical rather than literal -- the nuance between being limited in some way or being trapped in another. It's a question that resonates, for Dazai, even if perhaps he doesn't understand it as literally as it was intended.]

there's a very famous poem that was written in my world, "i know why the caged bird sings", by maya angelou.

the caged bird sings with a fearful trill
of things unknown but longed for still
and his tune is heard on the distant hill
for the caged bird sings of freedom

in a sense, both options entail a loss of freedom. in the one case, it involves restriction, a limitation that wasn't there before. being bound to the ground where before you had command of the skies. but in the other, there's only a set space within which you can move at all. having wings becomes irrelevant if you can't use them to go where you want, where you can find other ways to get there by land or sea.


[In the Armed Detective Agency, there's tactics he can no longer use, strategies that are effective but unacceptable. But it's a sacrifice that allows him to be on the side that saves people. That makes his world a little more beautiful, so he doesn't mind.]

i'd abandon my wings

[messenger]

I see.

I don't think I could part with my wings. Even here, they're still useful.

[ and, of course, they're a part of him.

he understands that the reply is most likely referring to wings and cages in the manner of metaphor, but perhaps it's all the same, at least in the context of this particular conversation. ]

[saudades]

And did your cage come with them?

[Or is he able to escape the choice, in this place?]

[messenger]

This is my cage. I can't move outside the bounds of the barrier.

Back home I could have gone anywhere.

[saudades]

[Ah.]

so you would've lost them where you came from, then, if not for echo and aurora's intervention. is that about right?

[messenger]

... What gives you that assumption?

[saudades]

it follows from everything you've said so far, doesn't it?
the wings are clearly literal. you'd prefer to have them, even here, although it is your cage.
if the cage is here, then the lost wings must have been there!

don't worry, castiel-san, your secret's safe with me ♥

[this is a public network u lil shit]

[messenger]

I haven't lost anything. The question was hypothetical.

[ he might lose them, but if he does, aurora will only have sped up the process.

but he's not going to say that now. ]

Are you gonna ask another? Or has the game ended?

[ who won? ]

[saudades]

of course. any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental, hmm?

[he does not believe u. but he'll be nice and let it go. for now. but dazai will remember this.]

like i said, the game goes on until you're sick of it! but you can't blame me for stalling a little, i've never met someone with wings before~

hmmm! would you raaaaather sleep in public but soundly, or in private but with nightmares?
say these circumstances were guaranteed regardless of your typical experiences with sleep.

[messenger]

[ a part of him wants to clarify that it is the truth, but once people have made up their minds they tend to require more effort than necessary to change. is it worth the effort? probably not. ]

I've never had a nightmare. Can I make an informed choice without that knowledge?

I don't mind the idea of sleeping in public.

[saudades]

never, really?

[hey, what the fuck,,

he can't even play coy with this one he is just sincerely baffled.]

[messenger]

I don't need to sleep.

I don't even truly have a physical body. This vessel is borrowed.

[saudades]

[He thinks, immediately, of Chuuya and the Arahabaki. A 'vessel', was it. The wings weren't necessarily a dealbreaker as far as humanity goes; his coworker can turn into a tiger, after all. But evidently that's not the case.]

wooooow, that's amazing!
hey, hey, is it rude to ask what you are?

[it definitely is. but he's asking anyway. he's pretty sure this guy will give him an answer, but if he doesn't, Dazai will have learned something anyway.]

[messenger]

I'm an angel.

[ formerly, of the lord, but he's still sore about that.

[saudades]

[An angel. Sorry, Dazai just -- he needs a moment, here. He already suspected this whole thing was a farce, but this feels practically like confirmation. One of the figures of Abrahamic faith, supposedly directly reporting to God, is somehow subject to an individual who can decide whether or not universes are to be saved or not? That's ridiculous. Blasphemous, even, for someone who might believe.

The silence stretches a little long, but he finds his character again, and answers:]

an angel, truly??
scary to think this echo can be more powerful than an all-powerful god!! ヾ( •́д•̀ ;)ﾉ

[messenger]

[ the pause seems to go unnoticed from his end. ]

Yes, truly.

An angel isn't a god. God is God.

[ and he suspects that echo my br one in their own right. ]

[saudades]

but God is your boss, right?

[Which...actually, that puts Castiel's responses in a brand new light, doesn't it. This is a fallen angel. A fallen angel and a reformed mafioso being tested in this strange place. It's the kind of thing that would make a cheesy action thriller. One that he'd probably have enjoyed, honestly. If only it were fictional.

He plays innocent a bit longer, though, as if he hasn't recognized the implication.]

if He's truly all-knowing and all-powerful, wouldn't He be able to stop it?

[messenger]

Was. He doesn't want the job anymore.

Sure. Yeah. In theory. But if he doesn't intend to try, we'll never know, will we?

[ a fallen angel, yes. and perhaps it is fitting for him to be tested in this place. but wasn't he already being tested? ]

The earth of my universe is facing apocalypse. He doesn't care.

cw suicidal ideation

[saudades]

[God is dead, Nietzsche wrote, and we have killed him. It feels deeply ironic, somehow, that in another universe, his writings about the collapse of morality and the rise of nihilism could come to apply to the entity Himself.

Dazai ... he's not really sure how he feels about this, actually. For a person who has spent his entire life wanting to escape the pain of existence through death, it's discomfiting. Speaking to a figure of religious iconography you not only don't believe in, but represents an afterlife you don't want any part of, is a bit like walking into a metaphysical rake. They're not from the same universe, most likely. Fyodor's machinations aside, his universe is under no such threat. And yet, there's an itch to his skin, like the residue from poor-quality soap, that just won't quite wash off. The idea of his wretched, twisted soul, barely fit to even be called human, persisting for eternity lingers in the back of his mouth, turning his throat sour. He breathes, and for the first time in years, it comes out shaky, against his will.]

oh wow, i didn't know that's a job someone could retire from! [he manages at last, grateful for the filter of text to keep the cheerful front up with no obvious tells beyond the delays.]

that sounds terribly stressful. what happens if this apocalypse occurs? does it destroy the angels as well? without God, do all the humans still go to an afterlife, or simply cease to exist?

[messenger]

The all-powerful is beholden to no one, I suppose.

[ even over text, his embitterment is clear. ]

The angels will make way for paradise on earth. Humanity will die out and be reborn in the world to come, but the angels who don't perish in the war will be fine. This was all put into motion long ago. His presence isn't required.

[ but castiel had faith. he believed like believers do. he held onto the idea of a benevolent god with the entire sum of his being. devoted absolutely everything of himself, even what the other angels, by choice, did not. how could his father have betrayed him so? raphael told him god was dead—

and now he knows what he meant.

how can he live in a godless world? ]

I'll probably die, either in the war or after. I rebelled. There's no place for me there.

[saudades]

[Oh, he realizes. The man is talking about Armageddon. The end of days. The silence this time stretches even longer.]

you'd think the rise of the Kingdom of God, of all things, would require His presence. the more you know.

[It isn't hard to put together the pieces, though. This man is here, working for the right to save an already doomed world he intends to die for. There is always an emptiness inside Osamu Dazai, that much isn't new. Yet there's an ache that gathers in that swirling void now; somehow, he finds himself thinking of Odasaku, who went to his inevitable, futile death to avenge the children that had been under his protection.

He wants to stop having this conversation. He wants to throw his communicator in the trash and forget he ever started it. He almost does, more than once. Eventually:]

say, castiel-san.
i think i'm going to be rude and skip your turn.
would you rather have a drink with me, or several?

[messenger]

[ castiel certainly doesn't mind the wait. he needs time to gather his own thoughts. he's living every moment with his disappointment and his bitterness and his fear, but in moments like these it roils upward and overtakes him and it's difficult to — to keep a level head. he isn't used to having to mete out his emotions. up until very recently, he was operating under the assumption that he didn't have any. ]

You would think.

Several.

[ he can only hope it's easier to get drunk here than it was back home. nobody is going to appreciate it if he empties the entire liquor store. ]

cw suicidal imagery/ideation

[saudades]

[That's always how it goes, isn't it? Thinking you aren't truly capable of feeling anything until you do, and then you're burning every bridge around you for the opportunity to save the only one that brought color into your gray, lifeless world, the only one that matters.

But sometimes the bridge crumbles anyway, and you're left with no choice but to swim to shore and hope you drown somewhere along the way. Dazai has been trying to swim those choppy waters for four years now, and he's still struggling to get enough air in his lungs for the next stroke, and the one after that.]

i've yet to locate a proper bar, but at least the kwik stop has cheap booze. or there's the coffee shop's pinot noir, if you want something slightly classier. i'm not especially picky about these things, so it's up to you.

cw for the same

[messenger]

[ soon enough, he'll be in the same position, bridges burnt, hoping that he drowns. some of them are already in flames, spitting smoldering ash into the reservoir while he teeters at the edge. he can map out the trajectory of his life from here, and he knows it's not going to be pretty. when he confronted his former commander, he asked her to tell him what to do and she couldn't; he told her i feel and her answer was it gets worse—

and she chose to fall. she chose to become human. what is he going to do? he didn't choose this for himself. he just wanted—

well, that's the problem. he wanted. ]

There's no bar?

[ how is that possible? he can hardly imagine humans inhabiting a world without a bar present somewhere. he can hardly imagine it himself. ]

The kwik stop is fine. I'll meet you there.