[OOM] you favor the truth

[collects_strays]

He wasn't in the river.

Graham had been lying on his cot. Or had been asleep. Either way, rather than needing to retreat to the river, the door of his cell had unlatched. It's something that had happened before, and whatever state he was in, it hadn't concerned him. What he should do was simple, straightforward. He rose from the cot, stepped forward, and gently pushed the door open. The hall beyond his cell had been unrecognizable the moment he stepped out – he couldn't make out the ceiling, only scattered strips of light among dark branches; high dark trees climbed up along the walls; concrete petered out into small stones scattered among leaves and soil. Something glinting among the bars, and trees, before him.

On the other side, he's sitting on a rock near the Lake. Not making the same side trek through his mind has meant he's still dressed in the blue, numbered uniform. Graham isn't planning on entering the Bar.

Comments

[themysciran_diana]

It's the blue numbered uniform -- on Will -- that catches Diana's attention first, up where she's flying over the mountains.

She drops lightly to the ground several feet away.

"Will? Are you all right?"

[collects_strays]

His heartbeat ticks up, and there's a spark under his skin - the kind of nervous excitement that comes with something so counter to one's reality. The kind of feeling that's usually superfluous in dreams.

Graham takes a deep breath, trying to ease it. His eyes are on her, and then flicker to the lake, and he gets a shallow smile.

"I'm really not."

[themysciran_diana]

I can see that, is what she doesn't say.

"If I ask, will you answer?"

She's already moving closer, pace steady and slow.

In case proximity will only make whatever happened worse. Somehow.

Sometimes a body wants to be alone. Diana knows this one pretty well.

[collects_strays]

"It is what I've been doing a lot of today."

He looks back to her, not apparently concerned by her approach. "But I might be an, um - unreliable narrator."

[themysciran_diana]

"Most of us are."

Her observation is both wry and soft. Well, quiet, at least.

"What's making you so aware of potential unreliability this time?"

Could it be audience -- or questioner -- participation?

[collects_strays]

"A... continuing realization that what I thought was real... wasn't. Or - wasn't completely."

He lets out a breath, and then, "I think we last time we spoke I was more concerned with what I thought - wasn't real."

There's a quiet but sure sense of irony to it.

[themysciran_diana]

Diana raises her eyebrows, but only a little.

"And now you're concerned about where, exactly, is the line between them? Or is it something else."

[collects_strays]

Graham shakes his head. He closes his eyes for a moment, touching the bridge of his nose, and waits a moment before speaking again.

"I recently... realized something that changed how I saw what came before it. Like I'd um, turned on a light and saw the room I was in was - bigger than I thought."

As he looks up, "And now I know I'm still not seeing all of it."

[themysciran_diana]

Diana's hands drop to her hips.

"Do you have ideas on how you might begin to pace out these boundaries?"

[collects_strays]

Quiet, "Yes."

He glances back to her. "But I can't entirely trust the - help I have right now."

[themysciran_diana]

Diana doesn't smile.

"Here, or at home?"

[collects_strays]

His eyes drift back to the forest. Graham does smile, but it's thin and bitter, and his voice is low.

"Home."

[themysciran_diana]

"I'm sorry for that."

Diana's voice is quiet.

"And there's no hope for changing those -- circumstances?"

[collects_strays]

The smile slips. He looks back to the lake.

"You, um - made me an offer, before."

[themysciran_diana]

"I did," Diana acknowledges, inclining her head very slightly. "And it still stands."

She remains unsmiling, blue eyes focused and clear.

"Are there particular answers you're looking for? Beyond the metaphor of shadows and rooms."

[collects_strays]

"It's... hard to know what I don't know."

Graham looks to her, briefly meeting her eyes.

"How particular would I need to be?"

[themysciran_diana]

Diana huffs out a quiet breath.

"Not much, truth be told. Though it can be dangerous, in its way, to look for all the truths you don't remember, all at once. Are there particular blank spots or false memories you hope to recover or remove?"

[collects_strays]

He gives a slow nod.

"I can think of a few."

[themysciran_diana]

Her smile is a tiny thing, but real.

Having a way forward helps.

"That's enough for going on with -- or it has been, historically. The difficulty will depend on how exactly you lost what happened. Some magics are more tenacious than others, for example. As are some technologies."

[collects_strays]

Graham blinks away, quiet for a moment. He can't be entirely sure what that answer is, but -

"I've - already recovered some of it," he offers. "With a different kind of - help."

[themysciran_diana]

"What kind of help?"

Diana's smile fades away again, though not to any expression that could be called 'grim'.

Focused, maybe.

"I ask because depending on the similarity, or the difficulty of whatever technique you used -- it might help keep us from brute-forcing anything. Which -- seems like it would be preferable here."

[collects_strays]

Graham nods again, closing his eyes briefly before he answers -

"Um, sodium amytal."

After a pause, he adds, "Is what I was told."

[themysciran_diana]

"It wasn't voluntary, I take it."

Her delivery is calm. Controlled.

But somewhere she might be a little bit angry.

[collects_strays]

"I signed a release and everything."

But he flashes a rather wry smile with it.

[themysciran_diana]

"Legal documentation covers a host of ills."

Her observation is dry.

(It isn't the only thing that does.)