ataraxion | voice

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voice

[...there's a second of white noise, because-- well, this is weird. It's like online chatrooms, which Mitchell has never been keen on, to say the least. One on one communication hasn't been so bad--better, actually, considering he's been mostly holed up in his room, avoiding human/werewolf contact. But, right--necessity--]

If people are going t' go through those tubes and get onto that other ship, do their phones keep on working? These devices, I mean. Do they go that far? If they do, and if this can be heard over there, I'm making a request. Space pirates had to have cigarettes on them, yeah, and I'm in need of cigarettes. Sanctioned looting can include a bit of personal stuff, yeah-- and it's sort of a, a desperate need. Please and thanks in advance.

[Like very desperate. Like the more he talks about it, the more strained his voice goes. Vampires with nicotine addictions, it's a hard life. A pause, then, he might finish there--but instead he sucks in a breath. Right. Normal.]

Actually, there's a lot of questions on how things work around here, and not all of it is out of our control. Like--so there's a cast of, what, a hundred plus of us, and we have t' trade for things that we need, if someone else has got them. But if you don't have anything t' trade, is it just-- begging for it? Hoping for a bit of Christian charity? Every man for himself? Not that I'd be much surprised by that one, given the... [Maybe it's better not to finish that one, in light of recent events, but given his low faith in humanity, and given his own recent exploints, none this is really all that surprising. So, wry once more:] ...given the situation.

[An awkward pause.]

Anyways. Thanks again.

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So you're saying-- be more human than the monster. But it doesn't work that way. What you're sayin', that's the nice thought. It's all nice words, but when it comes down to it, people want their vengeance. The monsters do too. And you can't blame them.

[It's all getting muddled. Humans judging monsters, monsters judging humans-- it's like the warehouse again, with Kemp against the wall, and George in his ear: They're monsters! Not us! Where does it end, he's asked that so many times, and there's never an answer.]

If someone killed the person you loved most--just wiped them out--you're tellin' me you'd be civil. What does that mean? What punishment fits that crime?

The man who killed the person I loved the most -

[His voice breaks for a single moment; he hates himself in that moment. He doesn't know why he's saying this - why he's telling this man, with his smoking habit, who works some dead-end job, who's deliberately difficult when he speaks, something that he hasn't even told Jenna -

Because he speaks from experience. Because he knows of the desire for vengeance.]

Lived within fifty miles of me, back home. His address was on file with the DA's office. [Though it wasn't Yogi, in the end - he knows that know. He's dreamed enough about it - the memories have come back to him enough - that he knows that it wasn't Yogi at all, that day.

Not a lie, though, is it? His father's killer's address was indeed on file. It was just listed in the prosecutors' file; that was all.]

I didn't ever go down there. I didn't even look to see what the address was.

[He's not surprised, really. He's been thinking of himself--only himself--through this whole conversation, and it's a conversation that should end now. It should have ended ten minutes ago--five minutes ago--but it's still going, and he keeps prolonging it, with a grim curiosity, the same way he'd press his thumb against a bruise, just to see, to see how long that dull pain lasts before it fades. How long can this last.

But he's not surprised that this lawyer's got some death in his past. Some murder. Who doesn't? Even in worlds without vampires, without that plague, without monsters, there's still evil, it's just the human evil.

And it's that same grim curiosity that has him press:]

And why didn't you.

[Because he knows what he would have done.]

For exactly the reasons I've been detailing to this point.

[It's miserably painful. Speaking of this - in conversation, on an unencrypted feed, where someone might hear - it's agonizing. But he's uttered the words already, hasn't heard any clucks or coos of condolence - he's pushed past the worst of it, the initial admission. Now he can retreat back into logic. Coolly analytical self-reflection.]

Because that's not what's done. He slipped through the cracks and escaped the weight of justice. I never forgot that, but only because I needed to remember it in order to remember that I needed to work hard and fairly to ensure that someone else did not suffer the same thing. To ensure that justice was done for all people thereafter. But hatred? Wringing out vengeance with my bare hands? That would make me into someone very like him.

[He laughs at that--short, not amused. He escaped. But he didn't escape, because there's always guilt--and the judgement that comes after that.]

And what if you saw him today?

I wouldn't even know his face.

[A bit quietly.]

It's been twelve years. I wouldn't even recognize him.

But if he introduced himself, and came up and reminded me of what he had done, then I would do nothing.

[He laughs, again, short and sharp.]

Then you're an idiot. He gets away with it, and he's out there, in the world--and who's to say he's not going t' do something like it again. Because he will.

[He's thinking of himself, the monster; he's thinking of Kemp--of all of the vampires that he's known, Herrick and all his followers--]

And you'd let him walk away.

And that will be on my conscience.

[He bites that out miserably - but there's no doubt in his mind.]

I already ruined the chance to put him away once. But if he does it again, I will be there, and the trial will be perfect. If he steps out of line, I'll punish him personally.

[And when he hears that--I'll punish him personally--that's the part that he was waiting for. Vengeance, no matter what name you call it or how you dress it up. That means something deeper than courtrooms and trials, and Mitchell smiles bleakly.]

I hope you do.

[And he means that. Because everyone deserves their revenge, and everyone needs their punishment.]

[A pause, and then quietly:]

I hope I don't. I don't want my satisfaction to come because someone else was hurt.

[He huffs a laugh, sharp--it's more of an inhalation than a laugh, honestly.]

Yeah. Well. When you're facin' him down, we'll see if you say the same. And if it is, then you're a better man than most.

[A pause. He feels ill, because in that moment, he really thinks about it. If he faced down Yogi - if he looked him in the eye -

The point is moot, Miles. You were always the one at fault. If anything, he's your victim.

The tightness in his throat makes his reply just a bit too urgent.]

That's - That is not true. Few people would claim revenge.

[He doesn't miss that urgency--and, bleakly, it amuses him. Because that's humanity: confessing their goodness even as their hands are busy with the bad. Just as evil and just as cruel when they choose to be--choose, they get to choose to be monsters, to make their revenge bloody or cold.]

And are you sure of that?

I am.

[He shakes his head.]

Without question. After all, how many slights are committed in a day? And how often do people seek revenge for them? Rarely or never. It is only those who already have criminal minds who commit any such crimes.

Oh, that's not true. You think all revenge is big and bloody? It's not. There's a thousand tiny revenges that go on every day--there's a thousand monsters out there, but they're monsters in small ways. They don't go out and tear a man t' pieces, but they'll cut at him every day, and they'll think themselves justified in it--and maybe they are. And those small things, they're not so bad, yeah? Except every little revenge, it chips away at you.

And if you gave those same people a chance--one free chance, if they knew they couldn't be touched afterwards--if you put the gun in their hands and said do it, if you left that man's front door unlocked and told them where he'd hidden his money--they'd rob him blind, they'd shoot him, they'd take what they wanted.

Edited 2013-05-08 18:18 (UTC)

[He looks up. There's no uncertainty here; this he believes with every ounce of his being.]

That's not remotely true.

Yeah?

I've seen it. A thousand times, I've seen it.

[Stubbornly:]

Then somehow you've been surrounded by bad people.

Edited 2013-05-08 20:28 (UTC)

[And at that, Mitchell laughs, once, shortly.]

Yeah, maybe that's it. Simplest explanation. And meanwhile, you're surrounded by the good.

[Shortly:]

I'm surrounded by the bad as well. You're aware that I'm a prosecutor, correct? I deal with criminals daily. But criminals are different from normal people, and I think that's what you've lost sight of.

Maybe some of them, yeah. But most people--they're just waitin' to become criminals.

And even if they're different, you're still saying you think they deserve some mercy. You don't think there's anything that could change that?

[He scowls. People are not just waiting to become...]

No. Nothing. Not without us sacrificing our own humanity.

Right. Yeah.

[What the hell does that mean--what is humanity, really. This thin little thing to cling to, to separate you from the true monsters? Some people choose that sacrifice, and he could tell Edgeworth all about that.

But too much has already been said, so instead, bitterly:]

I hope you're right. And if we stay on this ship long enough, I'm sure we'll get t' see.

I've already been here nearly a year, sir, so I'm confident that I already have.

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