[Henry is surprised by the question, and frowns before turning away from Nick's desk. He begins to pace, agitated.]
I am...
[He trails off, unable to find the right word. He is ashamed that a demon exposed his weakness. He is well and truly angry that a demon encroached upon the sanctity of his innermost thoughts, that their foul kind are doing it to others. He is upset by the vibrant detail of its illusions drawn from his recollections. He grieves, knowing that he must put Iamarl to rest once and for all -- he cannot disgrace her memory and her last wishes again.
He swallows the lump in his throat, and finishes tersely.]
[It doesn't take someone with Nick's level of perception to pick up on what Henry's saying. He's not particularly close to Henry, but he can't help but worry about the rest of the Guardsmen, especially those who dedicate so much of their time and energy to keeping people safe. It's admirable, and something that doesn't get nearly the attention it deserves... and yet, he and Maketh do it anyway, no matter what danger could be out there.
Nick respects his bosses a whole lot, and so he's gentle in his approach toward them when they're clearly troubled. He leans on his desk, using it as leverage to get to his feet.]
[There is a certain amount that Henry will say -- the same amount that he is willing to include in his report. It's obvious what he is omitting.]
Have ever you considered the depth of detail your memories hold?
[Henry folds an arm around his waist, and brings his other gauntleted hand to his mouth, still pacing.]
Some of these demons can draw upon them, and from them weave an illusion -- for they may also see what one longs for. One knows not that one is trapped in a demon's falsehood when caught. 'Twas... [helplessly, he confesses] It felt real.
[Even now, he feels an echo of temptation recalling it, which he ruthlessly suppresses before he manages to summon another demon.
Henry shakes his head and halts his step, looking Nick directly in the eye. Bluntly, and in a hard tone, he says concisely:]
I was enticed. What I say next will sound mad, but I swear I speak truth. Maketh found her way into the illusion. 'Twas not formed in my mind, rather... painted over the real world by some infernal magic. She freed me of it, and together we smote the demon responsible. Then we annihilated all demons in the surrounding area.
[Henry's explanation is a little of what Nick suspected, and more.]
It does sound a little crazy, but you're talking to a machine that some folks wouldn't consider any more of a person than the coffee maker. There's a lot coming in from other worlds, both good and bad. A lot we don't know. So if you say this demon conjured up some kind of hallucination that felt so real that you believed it, then who am I to doubt you?
[He sighs, but keeps his eyes on Henry.]
I'm glad you and Maketh have each other to keep you safe. I don't know what this town would do if we ever lost either of you.
You are well-liked and respected, so people listen to you. You are responsible and motivated. You are righteous. You believe that we can make a difference. Were it not for your lack of confidence, one could easily argue otherwise.
[But an absence of self-belief is a great failing in a leader. A leader must be a font of belief for their followers. You cannot ask someone to place their faith in you if you have none in yourself.
It is, in short, a waste.]
'Tis a pity that you would rather cling to your doubts than vanquish them.
[There's something funny about having what he's said to Maketh returned to him via Henry. He'd argue on a few of those points regarding him — respected and well-liked by some, and maybe not so righteous as believed, given what he did to IV. However, he figures there's no real point to it. Henry is right in that his doubts linger within him, sometimes staying his hands when they should be doing more.
But he's an old synth hailing from a world where his kind are often shot on sight. He may be an exception to the rule, but very often, synths are some of the worst the Commonwealth has to offer. There's a reason people look at him with apprehension before getting to know him.
But he's changed a few minds. Maybe it's time someone works on changing his.]
I can't say it's not a work in progress, much like this city. I've said the same thing a few times to Maketh, but she has as tendency to doubt my faith in her the wait I'm doubting yours in me now. Guess we both oughtta work on it, huh?
[Henry shifts his weight and runs a hand through his hair.]
No.
[The letters don't really count, given how one-sided the exchange is. And it seems pointless to continue them while this crisis is going on: he doesn't have the time to spare as he is devoting all of his energy to Guard work and keeping his dark mood at bay.]
[In the wake of the desire demon's illusion, a thread of weariness weaves into Henry's obvious puzzlement at Nick's choice of phrase. The occurrence is nothing new -- familiar words used in an unfamiliar arrangement to imply God knows what -- but he's tired of the constant distance after such a vivid reminder of home.
Right now he lacks the patience to try and parse the subtleties of meaning from the question's context.]
What mean you?
[But then he seems to think twice about their conversation, and suddenly suspicious, interjects with:]
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[Though there's something in Henry's tone that makes him believe others might. He saw plenty of that on the network as it is.]
You okay?
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I am...
[He trails off, unable to find the right word. He is ashamed that a demon exposed his weakness. He is well and truly angry that a demon encroached upon the sanctity of his innermost thoughts, that their foul kind are doing it to others. He is upset by the vibrant detail of its illusions drawn from his recollections. He grieves, knowing that he must put Iamarl to rest once and for all -- he cannot disgrace her memory and her last wishes again.
He swallows the lump in his throat, and finishes tersely.]
Coping.
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Nick respects his bosses a whole lot, and so he's gentle in his approach toward them when they're clearly troubled. He leans on his desk, using it as leverage to get to his feet.]
What happened? If you don't mind me asking.
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Have ever you considered the depth of detail your memories hold?
[Henry folds an arm around his waist, and brings his other gauntleted hand to his mouth, still pacing.]
Some of these demons can draw upon them, and from them weave an illusion -- for they may also see what one longs for. One knows not that one is trapped in a demon's falsehood when caught. 'Twas... [helplessly, he confesses] It felt real.
[Even now, he feels an echo of temptation recalling it, which he ruthlessly suppresses before he manages to summon another demon.
Henry shakes his head and halts his step, looking Nick directly in the eye. Bluntly, and in a hard tone, he says concisely:]
I was enticed. What I say next will sound mad, but I swear I speak truth. Maketh found her way into the illusion. 'Twas not formed in my mind, rather... painted over the real world by some infernal magic. She freed me of it, and together we smote the demon responsible. Then we annihilated all demons in the surrounding area.
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It does sound a little crazy, but you're talking to a machine that some folks wouldn't consider any more of a person than the coffee maker. There's a lot coming in from other worlds, both good and bad. A lot we don't know. So if you say this demon conjured up some kind of hallucination that felt so real that you believed it, then who am I to doubt you?
[He sighs, but keeps his eyes on Henry.]
I'm glad you and Maketh have each other to keep you safe. I don't know what this town would do if we ever lost either of you.
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[Henry mutters, meaning Nick's coffee maker comment. He sets his hands on his hips. Of course they do; he and Maketh are family.]
The town would go on. And I hope that you would step up.
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I'm not much of a leader, Henry.
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You are well-liked and respected, so people listen to you. You are responsible and motivated. You are righteous. You believe that we can make a difference. Were it not for your lack of confidence, one could easily argue otherwise.
[But an absence of self-belief is a great failing in a leader. A leader must be a font of belief for their followers. You cannot ask someone to place their faith in you if you have none in yourself.
It is, in short, a waste.]
'Tis a pity that you would rather cling to your doubts than vanquish them.
no subject
But he's an old synth hailing from a world where his kind are often shot on sight. He may be an exception to the rule, but very often, synths are some of the worst the Commonwealth has to offer. There's a reason people look at him with apprehension before getting to know him.
But he's changed a few minds. Maybe it's time someone works on changing his.]
I can't say it's not a work in progress, much like this city. I've said the same thing a few times to Maketh, but she has as tendency to doubt my faith in her the wait I'm doubting yours in me now. Guess we both oughtta work on it, huh?
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You should. There comes a point at which your doubts will be taken for truth. Do not yourself an injustice.
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We'll see if I can't do better next time you and Maketh go MIA.
[Though he's hoping that doesn't happen. Speaking of MIA people...]
By the way, you spoken to Shadow lately?
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No.
[The letters don't really count, given how one-sided the exchange is. And it seems pointless to continue them while this crisis is going on: he doesn't have the time to spare as he is devoting all of his energy to Guard work and keeping his dark mood at bay.]
Shadow still insists on avoiding me.
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I was wondering about that. Anything I can do?
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[Or rather, he was, and he will continue to do so when his hurts are less fresh.]
Intervention would but worsen matters.
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What is his beef with you, anyway?
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Right now he lacks the patience to try and parse the subtleties of meaning from the question's context.]
What mean you?
[But then he seems to think twice about their conversation, and suddenly suspicious, interjects with:]
Have you spoken with Shadow of late?
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[Not that he'll be telling Shadow that he told Henry this, but Henry ought to know.]
I keep hoping he'll come back to us.
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As do I.