fissionmailed | Do you know what day it is?

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by_anothername

Do you know what day it is?

[April 30th, the day she was assigned to "accidentally" run into the man Jack Brannigan. She checked herself in the mirror, making sure she looked like the blonde-haired, blue-eyed bombshell that Jack's psyche report said he liked in a woman. She knew it was her expertise in information analysis and psychology that earned her this job, but she wasn't naive enough not to know that it was partly given to her because she was an attractive female. Couldn't exactly do what she's trying to do if she was a man.]

[Smoothing out her modest-but-still-sexy dress, she nodded, satisfied. It was time to do her job. The word "spy" didn't sit well for her, she was just another woman trying to make a career for herself.]

[However, when she stepped off of the elevator in her apartment complex, intending to head to Federal Hall where she knew the dark haired Jack would be at about this time, she blinked in surprised as she suddenly wasn't standing on the very familiar lobby, but rather a long, white hallway.]

...Did I hit the wrong floor?

[She turned around but... the elevator was nowhere to be seen.]

[((Concept!PreMGS2 Rose, information is in her bio if you're interested. Protip: she's not much different from normal preMGS2 Rose, except for appearances.))]

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Not really, when death here only lasts three days.

[He says it entirely deadpan, calmly.]

...

This place is utterly insane.

It is indeed.

[The lift stops and he leads her out of it, towards the nearest kitchen.]

[She's not sure if she quite believes that people could come back from the dead yet, but he hasn't lied yet so...]

[They finally make it to a kitchen, and Rose sinks into the nearest seat, mulling it all over in her head.]

Thank you, by the way. What's your name?

...Liquid. Liquid Snake.

[He brushes aside her gratitude, finding no use for it. It makes him uncomfortable, so he disregards it in favour of finding some decent- ah, there. Tea. Casually, he begins to brew some.]

[She blinks.]

Wait, Liquid Snake? The... person who attempted to take over Shadow Moses two years ago?

I was in the middle of it a month ago. Then I wound up here. I did tell you this place was insane.

[The calming scent of tea is good. He sets a cup in front of her and takes a seat, sipping his own. He needs it, or else he feels like he's just going to snap at any minute.]

[She tenses visibly. She had just been following around a... psychopath. Someone who threatened the world with nuclear warfare.]

How... how many other people are here?

[He can tell he's disturbed her. That makes him smile into his cup and sip at his tea a little more.]

Dozens. Hundreds. Who knows? I can't keep track of them all.

[She frowned, tapping her fingers on the table.]

So wait. You said you've only been here for a month, but you died two years ago. How does that work?

I told you, woman. I was in the middle of Shadow Moses one month ago, and then I was here. I've also met people who claim to be from 2009 and 2014.

[Siiiiiip. How is she going to react, he wonders...]

So... different timelines too...

[She just rubbed her face.]

This is a lot to take in...

It goes against all laws of nature and logic.

[He sounds annoyed, but then he often does.]

[She sat there quietly for awhile, with her face in her hands.]

You've been awfully nice... Didn't think the man who threatened the world with nuclear attack would be a nice guy.

...tch.

[He sets his cup down. Resting his head on one hand, he stares at her. There's anger inside of him and he speaks sharply, coldly.]

I'm not a nice guy, as you put it. You just caught me in the right mood- and you're a civilian. It's in the way you dress and move. You're not even a civilian connected to what I was doing. It wouldn't be a challenge to fight you, to kill you! What would be the point? I am not some insipid fool who attacks anyone and everyone blindly. I don't regret what I've done, all I regret is that I apparently won't get the chance to finish it.

[She stares at him back, a little taken back at first, apparently she had said the wrong thing.]

Well, considering what things are like two years after Shadow Moses, I'd say this place probably saved you.

[He scowls at the wall.]

"Saved"? No. I've heard that I don't live through Shadow Moses. That's fine. As long as I go on, as long as I fight, it doesn't matter!

[It does matter. He's so angry that he loses, even if he dies fighting, and it's obvious in his words, in the lines of his body.]

In this place I'm trapped. Even if I killed everyone I hate who was here, it wouldn't matter because they'd come back!

Well... maybe... maybe this place is a chance to start over. You don't have to fight.

I want to fight. It's what I do, it's what I know. Peace is for civilians, not for soldiers like me. I have no interest nor desire to settle down. I am not like brother, willing to retire.

[The fire burns in his blood still, as it always has, even if brother's blood is cold as ice.]

You say peace like it's something bad. What's so wrong about not wanting others to suffer?

Peace is not bad for civilians. It's bad for me. I told you. Fighting is what I do. It's in my blood, in my very soul.

I don't buy that, you always have a choice, there's no such thing as a gene that says you have to fight.

...

[He sits up, slowly, a dark look in his eyes.]

Brother thinks otherwise, yet he came back to fight me. He thought he could live a peaceful life. So why was he drawn back to Shadow Moses? To me? Only one of us can survive this. It's fight, or die- and you know nothing about our genes!

[The cup is knocked aside as he slams his fist down on the table. It falls, shatters into shards on the ground at his feet. He doesn't notice.]

[She drew back as he knocked the cup to the floor, her eyes wide.]

It's not a compulsion, it's not genetics! You fight because you want to, or because circumstances require it, saying it's because you have no choice is just an excuse.

[On second thought, it's probably not a good idea to antagonize the crazy megalomaniac, but Rose had a bad habit of snapping back.]

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deeerp late sorry

Much later, sorry.

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