[He knows how much that Van Zieks had to go through. Unknowing of the truth. Becoming the symbol of a corrupt system.]
I know.
[He closes his eyes.]
I...know.
[A sharp inhale. An exhale.]
I made choices. But I did them for my...for my daughter. In the end, yes, I suppose...I chose her over you.
[Iris above all. Iris saved, unknowing, dreaming of a father that wasn't really hers.]
Besides, would you have even believed me? Would anyone have believed me? And I only learned the truth...too late. Me, racing forward to criticize a grand noble of society as a murderer? The proof was little. Stronghart's hand was strong. And you, with your stalwart conviction and the Chief Justice's strings so taut...it needed a miracle to cut through it all, and expose the truth to trap that man so that there was no true escape. Mr. Naruhodo accomplished that brilliantly. It just came ten years too late.
[He knows he wouldn't have. Certainly he didn't believe it when Naruhodo had put it forth. Even when everyone else had been convinced. He hadn't been able to, not without the most decisive of evidence. An impossible, terrible, nightmare of a truth, who wouldn't dodge it until they truly had no other option?
But he's still angry. He's still hurt. Illogical as it may be. The reason that law is so complicated and corruptible is that Human beings are imperfect, illogical creatures, that do imperfect, illogical things. He doesn't hate Sholmes for not telling him. He simply hates the fact that the man knew the truth for so long, when Barok did not. He doesn't hate Sholmes for not doing anything, he hates that he was unable to. Hates the system that caused their respective situations, hates how everyone was only capable of exacerbating and perpetuating the situation, hates himself for being so truly, deeply, profoundly useless. He couldn't help Klint. Couldn't help Iris. Couldn't help Genshin. Couldn't help Gregson.
His hand finally falls slack at his side. Adelheid hides in the collar of his shirt, small and fragile, as a harvestman.]
Leave me. [Slightly hoarse. He barely feels it necessary to say, assuming Sholmes will bolt the moment he's released.]
[It would be nice, wouldn't it? Some days, to simply be a calculating machine. To not let whims and emotions pull one forward. To let the heart stay silent, and to simply solve without care for the consequences.]
[But he isn't that. At his heart, he's simply just a human being. A human being that perhaps knows more than the average human being does, and can cut to the heart of a matter better than most, but...in the end.....]
[Fallible. Imperfect. Irrational.]
[Gregson died, and he couldn't stop that from happening, and it weighs on his mind to this day, because he tried so hard, so very hard to keep him safe, and...]
[He draws back, and clutches his head for a good moment.]
I'm going to find a drink. [...] If you want to join me, the invitation is yours.
[On the one hand, he could drink. On the other hand, Sholmes will be there, on the third hand he's in a weird headspace at the moment and maybe he shouldn't be alone at the moment and there isn't anyone here who understands how he feels besides Sholmes.
....]
Only if there is no talking. [We drink in silence like proper emotionally constipated victorian men.]
[Maybe for this one rare moment...he doesn't feel like talking. What is there to say? What is there to do? The sins of ten years can be fixed, but the scars will never heal.]
[He just nods and turns, expecting the other to follow along. Drinking time, Mr. Reaper.]
[Barok van Zieks Will Remember This. He already knew, abstractly, that Herlock Sholmes was more that the complete disaster of an idiot that he seemed. But now he has a more concrete sense of it. He can't decide if it makes him hate the man less or more.
Now is really when he feels the amount of capes available in Cittagaze lacking. He needs to enshroud himself!! Stupid modern people. And their therapy and rules against doing drugs.
He has nothing to say he is just following after Sholmes. Actually, he has one more thing to say;]
[But that actually makes Sholmes bark out a laugh in return. Ah, of course. The security that comes with a shared secret. Nothing like it. He smiles over his shoulder.]
I wouldn't dream of it, Mr. Van Zieks.
[Enjoy the name drop for now. It will probably be back to Mr. Reaper by tomorrow.]
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no subject
[He knows how much that Van Zieks had to go through. Unknowing of the truth. Becoming the symbol of a corrupt system.]
I know.
[He closes his eyes.]
I...know.
[A sharp inhale. An exhale.]
I made choices. But I did them for my...for my daughter. In the end, yes, I suppose...I chose her over you.
[Iris above all. Iris saved, unknowing, dreaming of a father that wasn't really hers.]
Besides, would you have even believed me? Would anyone have believed me? And I only learned the truth...too late. Me, racing forward to criticize a grand noble of society as a murderer? The proof was little. Stronghart's hand was strong. And you, with your stalwart conviction and the Chief Justice's strings so taut...it needed a miracle to cut through it all, and expose the truth to trap that man so that there was no true escape. Mr. Naruhodo accomplished that brilliantly. It just came ten years too late.
no subject
But he's still angry. He's still hurt. Illogical as it may be. The reason that law is so complicated and corruptible is that Human beings are imperfect, illogical creatures, that do imperfect, illogical things. He doesn't hate Sholmes for not telling him. He simply hates the fact that the man knew the truth for so long, when Barok did not. He doesn't hate Sholmes for not doing anything, he hates that he was unable to. Hates the system that caused their respective situations, hates how everyone was only capable of exacerbating and perpetuating the situation, hates himself for being so truly, deeply, profoundly useless. He couldn't help Klint. Couldn't help Iris. Couldn't help Genshin. Couldn't help Gregson.
His hand finally falls slack at his side. Adelheid hides in the collar of his shirt, small and fragile, as a harvestman.]
Leave me.
[Slightly hoarse. He barely feels it necessary to say, assuming Sholmes will bolt the moment he's released.]
no subject
[It would be nice, wouldn't it? Some days, to simply be a calculating machine. To not let whims and emotions pull one forward. To let the heart stay silent, and to simply solve without care for the consequences.]
[But he isn't that. At his heart, he's simply just a human being. A human being that perhaps knows more than the average human being does, and can cut to the heart of a matter better than most, but...in the end.....]
[Fallible. Imperfect. Irrational.]
[Gregson died, and he couldn't stop that from happening, and it weighs on his mind to this day, because he tried so hard, so very hard to keep him safe, and...]
[He draws back, and clutches his head for a good moment.]
I'm going to find a drink. [...] If you want to join me, the invitation is yours.
no subject
....]
Only if there is no talking.
[We drink in silence like proper emotionally constipated victorian men.]
no subject
[Maybe for this one rare moment...he doesn't feel like talking. What is there to say? What is there to do? The sins of ten years can be fixed, but the scars will never heal.]
[He just nods and turns, expecting the other to follow along. Drinking time, Mr. Reaper.]
no subject
Now is really when he feels the amount of capes available in Cittagaze lacking. He needs to enshroud himself!! Stupid modern people. And their therapy and rules against doing drugs.
He has nothing to say he is just following after Sholmes. Actually, he has one more thing to say;]
And you will tell no one of this.
no subject
[But that actually makes Sholmes bark out a laugh in return. Ah, of course. The security that comes with a shared secret. Nothing like it. He smiles over his shoulder.]
I wouldn't dream of it, Mr. Van Zieks.
[Enjoy the name drop for now. It will probably be back to Mr. Reaper by tomorrow.]