sating | week one - after trial

[ As everyone is dispersing for the evening, Hannibal lingers for a moment to survey everyone. With the stress of the day, he imagines that there are quite a few people feeling stressed (to say the very least) by the day's events. Eventually, his attention stops on Sei and Xion, who had both been quite hopeful in their defenses of Tiara. Sei had asked to speak with him on medicine, and he considers going to her, but... That break in Xion's voice is fresher in his mind. It's also more vulnerable.

He follows her to the hall, then reaches out to place a hand on her shoulder once more. This one is lighter than before, but still kind. Even in such a simple gesture, there's worry. ]

Excuse me, Xion—

[ He hopes it isn't too rude to refer to her so casually when they hadn't been properly introduced, but she seemed fairly amenable to being casual in the first place. ]

Forgive me if I'm intruding... But would you like someone to talk to? I can gladly lend an ear. It's something like my duty, considering my line of work. [ He withdraws his hand, but nods to her lightly ] Though only if you would find it helpful. I don't wish to pry or push.

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From:

ceded

[ Xion swallows, holding a breath without even realizing she's doing so. He seems ... so much like he means it.

But will that understanding turn into ... something else?

She's already sworn him to secrecy. What might he imagine, if she doesn't tell him now? ]

I'm not human, [ she says, through numb lips. Then she freezes, every piece of her body screaming out her desire to run. But she stays, through a visible effort of will, and swallows thickly. ]

Humans ... have had real lives, and ... families, and they ... they have hearts. I don't know ... if I have a heart. My superiors always told me that I didn't, no matter how I felt.

[ The words get easier as she talks, gaining at least enough strength for her to be audible without having to strain. Xion sighs out low and slow and shuts her eyes, resting her cheek on her knee. ]

Everyone keeps treating my age like it's a big deal, too. I wonder how they'd feel if they knew how old I really was. [ a mocking note enters her voice, but her derision is entirely for herself. ]

From:

sating

[ When the first part of her confession comes, Hannibal is surprised, but not judgemental at all. His reaction is little more than a surprised raise of his eyebrows, because truth be told, it's not the first time he's heard someone confess this sort of thing to him. It even comes with the same amount of gravity, but to himself, Hannibal does think that this is the first time he would be inclined to believe it. With the oddity of their situation and the stories he's already heard, he can at least accept the crux of her concern as something more "real" than he perhaps understands.

He leans forward as she continues, giving her words his full attention. He rests his arms on his legs, and there's an openness and casual way that he's approaching her. It's not to diminish her worries, but rather, to make her feel more accepted and comfortable, at least in his presence. ]

You do not know? I suppose you mean in the metaphorical sense. The heart as the construct of emotion. [ With a bit of humor he adds: ] Otherwise, I will be surprised that you're so eloquent. A lack of an organ can make speaking difficult, in my experience.

[ He'll get to her age too, but one thing at a time here. He'll start with the basic, but he's sure also the most complicated. ]

From:

ceded

[ That comment just serves to confuse her. Someone was never really taught basic anatomy during all her training in The World That Never Was.

Does he ... know something about lacking organs?? Why does he have experience with that? Xion just kind of frowns a little and tilts her head. ]

Um... I'm not really sure what you mean, but I'm built pretty differently from a human, too. You see, I'm just a doll. Something that someone made. I'm called ... a Replica.

[ Her breath shivers when she says it out loud. Admitting it is making her chest feel so tight, but he isn't glaring at her, or acting afraid. After a moment, Xion shifts in her seat, tucking her legs up beside her instead of curling up into that tight little ball. ]

I think ... what you said, about the heart being a construct? That part is definitely correct. We were told ... that hearts would allow us to feel, and make us human again. Of course, I wasn't like the others. [ bitter, bitter. ] I don't know if a heart would really help me at all. But ... no one in the Organization really felt anything, even if we all pretended we did. So ... it's really hard for me to understand emotions. I don't know the name for a lot of things, and I don't even know if what I'm feeling is the real thing.

From:

sating

Simply a joke. Don't think too much on it.

[ Because those are good questions. Why would Hannibal know. :) ]

[ He dismisses his own (failed) joke easily in favor of listening again, but it's quite strange to him. It's not the first time he's felt that way here, but still, each time someone speaks of something quite far beyond even his imagination, it's difficult to apply what he knows.

After all, in concrete ideas, all of what she describes would be an empathy disorder. As he'd briefly wondered, it was indeed more the opposite of Will's, but what she describes tends to be a personality disorder more rooted in danger. A lack of emotion means pushing someone exactly towards the sort of person Will once tracked down.

(Or even the sort of person that some new psychiatrists would call him, but their classification was incorrect, simply put.)

But he doesn't get that impression from her at all. And that's the part where he tends to realize he can't view all the people here through the lens he expects. It's different, but in that, it's also interesting. There are questions he'd like to ask, but those are more for his intellectual curiosity. In the seat of a psychiatrist, his response ends up being far more restrained and simple. ]

Would you like to understand them?

From:

ceded

Well ... okay.

[ She seems content to let it go, trusting that it's not important.

Xion is a little visibly nervous as he thinks, even though his disposition hasn't changed. She's starting to have this feeling like even if he did have distaste for her, he wouldn't be overt about it. Or ... is she just so stuck in the belief that everyone will hate her for being a Replica that she's imagining him judging her even when he's not? Get a grip, Xion.

His question gets her eyes to widen, and she pulls in a slow breath, sitting forward. With heartbreaking sincerity: ]

More than anything.

From:

sating

Then I can help you.

[ He returns her sincerity with his own, and it comes without hesitation. Hannibal smiles, and though it's muted in the way many of his expressions tend to be, it's still warm and accepting. ]

I will admit, I've never had a patient who is a Replica, so this may be a learning experience for the both of us... But if you would like to understand, I can offer insight. Understanding emotion is learned, just as someone must learn to play a musical instrument.

[ He nods to her lightly ]

But regardless, I feel I can be certain enough to say this: whatever you are feeling, that is real enough. You never need to question that.

From:

ceded

[ Xion stares at him with eyes that shine.

Whatever you are feeling, that is real enough.

With no real warning - or, perhaps, this was obviously going to happen - she dissolves, just a little, misting over as she retreats a little into herself to rub at her face and sniff quietly. She has to swallow, and take a breath, but she manages to calm down pretty quickly.

Once she does, she unfolds completely, setting her feet flat on the floor and sitting up straight. The look on her face is very determined. ]

Okay. If I really understand emotions, then... I can be a better friend, and support everyone who's supporting me. I'll learn, whatever it takes.

From:

sating

[ Hannibal reaches towards the pocket of his jacket almost out of instinct when Xion starts to crumble, because he does expect it, in part. He may not understand all of the context here, but it's clear enough that this is something both very important to her and also weighs very heavily on her. He expects her to cry, and so he expects to offer his handkerchief, since it's something he's never without.

But she draws herself up with determination. There is a sort of pause in his movement as if he's making sure that she isn't about to crumble, but with a light nod of his head, he sits back in his own chair. ]

And I can see you're quite determined to follow through on that. It is an excellent place to start, I think. Determination can lead to great things.

[ He starts to neatly fold the handkerchief again, though not quite in the formal fold it had been in before. Just in case she does decide she needs it, he won't spend the time to make it fancy again. ]

Then, may I ask you a question related to something you brought up a moment ago? This is my personal curiosity more than professional, so you do not need to feel obligated to answer. But how old are you, Xion?

From:

ceded

[ Was ... he going to offer her that? (What's the word... handkerchief?)

Xion sighs out through her nose, her expression softening slightly. She's ... really lucky that she met someone like him. Someone kind that she can trust, someone who won't mock her or treat her like she's worthless...

Pressing the heels of her palms into the chair besides her thighs, Xion tilts her head slightly, considering the question. She sounds a little uncertain when she answers, but not nearly as scared as before. ]

No, it's okay. I don't mind answering. I was created a little over a year ago. Actually... my birthday was on Friday, if I counted the days right. [ Her smile turns a little sad. ]

From:

sating

[ There are technically two surprises here, though naturally one overshadows the other. He does look surprised when Xion says she's only a year old, but that's part of what he has to reconcile (or more accurately, brush away) as a part of the strangeness of this place. She's not human, and she's also extremely young, certainly looking impossibly older. But with the comparison of being a doll, he supposes that a doll is shaped to have a certain appearance. Age could factor into that.

Yet even with that surprise that certainly seems impossible to him, it's not what he focuses on, naturally. He addresses the smaller, more personable surprise. ]

Then happy birthday, Xion. I'm sorry that your celebration was— [ He trails off, seeming to think of a polite way to put it ] Perhaps not what one would hope for a birthday party.