ataraxionlogs | who let the dogs out??

Entry tags:

who let the dogs out??

CHARACTERS: Miles "Fergie" Edgeworth and will.i.graham
LOCATION: The gardens what keep folks alive
WARNINGS: If you are allergic to dogs stay away
SUMMARY: Dogs meet up for a play-date.
NOTES: Slightly backdated.

[Mr. Graham stated that he has little interest in idle socialization. That should be a comfort, truly, yet for some reason, instead, it just leaves Edgeworth uneasy. Perhaps it's simply that his mentality has been altered by this ship, by the way the passengers occupy themselves through chatter, and he does not fully believe that the man will be content with silence. Perhaps he's nervous that the man will rebuff him as before, with that strange uncomfortable sort of humor. Perhaps he's intimidated by the man's career - because he's not a real prosecutor, never was, and how easy would it be for a member of the F.B.I. to look down on a mere security officer?

Stupid to be nervous.

Pess doesn't sense that. She's as cheerful as she ever is on a walk, prancing into the oxygen garden at the agreed-upon location with energy. She can clearly sense that an adventure is in the offing, and she seems delighted.

Edgeworth, though, just takes her around silently and unsmilingly. He's dressed in dark suit and tie; his manner is clearly standoffish.]

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[Edgeworth frowns in response to that amusement; his answer is firm and precise.]

I am taking on whatever duties I must in order to best serve the people here. Career has nothing to do with it, and if I were able to return home, I would at once return to the law.

[He pauses a moment, then adds:]

And I'll confess, sir, that I'm surprised to hear you say that. I would think someone of your background would have esteem for the law.

I do. But the law isn't static. And overregulation seems about as ineffective as having no order at all.

[ He shakes his head slowly, looking elsewhere again, maybe inward. Whatever duties he can to serve the people. Will strongly identifies with that sentiment, feels a moment of guilt, lets it go. ]

There might be better ways to minimize harm than Neighborhood Watch, but it's not in laying down commandments.

It's certainly not allowing the vicissitudes of personal judgment to creep into our official system, either.

[The intimidation actually is gone, now, but only because he's fired by passion. It shines in his expression - though, like so many other of his emotions, that passion just makes him look kind of angry.]

A code of law isn't about ease. And it's not about laying down commandments, as though we're some moral authority. It's about ensuring that the people are protected from us as much as they are from one another. Without the rule of law, we're ruled by man, by individual, who can dictate what he wishes from each situation. It's only by luck and collective hostility towards one another that we've not fallen under the sway of some shipwide tyrant.

Codes of law aren't drafted to enslave us. They're drafted to keep us free, to keep those in power in check.

[And then he remembers himself, and sets his jaw, and drops into a bow.]

I...This is wholly my personal opinion. My statements do not in any way reflect the policy of the security team as a whole.

[ Miles Edgeworth, you adorable piece of shit. ]

[ Will looks taken aback by his fervency, though it certainly provides him with food for thought. Tyranny was what he was thinking of when he commented on commandments: there just isn't the level of regulating bodies here to manage the management. The systems in place back home were self-perpetuating, sure, but it meant it was hard to start 'em up. Who would pick the laws? Who would enforce them? Who would be the ombudsman should that enforcement fail? And was a system even worth it when it only covered a couple of hundred people? ]

[ Regardless, he respects where Edgeworth's coming from pretty sincerely. If his first impression had been that of a petty flunky, someone with deep insecurities in their own position and a tendency to let the details get in the way of the scheme of things, he revises it now, to include this new information. ]

It's no problem. I'm not exactly going to go repeating what you've said.

[ It's interesting that he feels the need to clarify, though. Will has spent years avoiding the politics of the FBI as best as he can, but he knows the signs of a schism when he sees one. ]

So why don't they? I mean, why isn't there a code of law provided along with the welcome documents?

[The sensible thing to do, of course, would be to pretend he was simply playing devil's advocate when he said all those things - that he of course adheres to the party line, doesn't contradict Tyke in any way shape or form, et cetera, et cetera. People have little enough confidence in the security force even without knowing that the people on said force are irreparably fragmented in every aspect of their ideology. Yet to claim that would be to claim that he believed that the law was a tool of oppressors, that the virtues of the law were undercut by its flaws...And he just doesn't want to do that. He'd spent too many years already lying about his beliefs; he's done with it now.

So there's a brief unpleasant expression on his face (akin, grotesquely, to the expression displayed by a man in the throes of constipation) which clears the moment he decides to be true to his beliefs. And when he speaks in the next moment, it's more spontaneous, more genuine; his voice is less strangled, the register of his words less forced.]

Because more people on the ship think as you do than as I do. Not that that is saying much: you could take a vote as to whether or not we should steer away from some black hole we're pointed towards and struggle to come up with a majority. [And, with a defiant sort of pride:] And though you'll hear a great many complaints to the contrary from certain members of this community, we listen to people, and we don't force our wills on them.

Democracy's very rarely a united force.

[ but the other option is a kind of totalitarianism that edgeworth has just made clear isn't and won't be the standard. will nods. ]

Still. We're all in the same boat. That makes it hard, means anyone who wants to make something happen has to raise themselves up first, and that comes with a whole other set of risks.

[ who watches the watchmen. ]

Do you elect any politicians around here?

[The mild response to his little tirade calms him a bit; when he answers the next question, he's less impassioned. Which is good: he comes off less demented. A bit.]

No, sir. There are a few who attempted to stir people up and divide them into factions, after a fashion - and, indeed, there were some who followed them; in times when there is a lack of clarity, people look to the charismatic rather than the reasonable. Those people are largely gone, now, though, or have seen their support fade.

[ will digs his hands into his pockets, shakes his head. ]

That's a shame. Moses to Washington, if you want to put laws down you tend to need a leader.

Perhaps so.

[He grants this with a small nod of his head.]

But few civilizations are as small as ours. And few are as cognizant of single, uniting purposes.

[ will's eyebrows raise. ]

Didn't you just say getting people to unite on anything is a problem? I think traditionally, letting the people pick the leaders and the leaders pick the laws is how you overcome trying to wrangle a crowd.

[Point to you, Mr. Graham; he gives another nod.]

But bear in mind how altogether...forgive my crudeness - incestuous this place is. In a normal system, one can unite behind an individual for their ideas, their intellect. Here, where everyone knows everyone else, people for some reason seem to care more about who's friends with whom, who slighted whom. All the virtues of a good system seem negated by the idiocy of popularity games.

[ will gives a soft chuckle. ]

Preaching to the choir. You think the FBI isn't full of weasels and ladder-climbers? Behavioral Science has a good man, a genuinely good man behind it, but I even get it in my classes.

[ he shakes his head. in will's opinion all systems are like that, but the difference is... ]

Guess in space you can't just go somewhere to get away from it. I imagine it exacerbates tension, being cooped up, like they try to do for reality TV.

[ not that will watches big brother, but it's as psychologically interesting as the stanford prison experiment. ]

[A quick, unhappy nod - ]

Security has put out an official advisory not to go beyond the territory we patrol. Several who have done so have died. It means that we all are quite...concentrated.

[But he says that with an air of distraction; it's clear his mind is on something else. And, indeed, there's hardly any hesitation before he asks - ]

Sir, I thought that...My image was always that the FBI was above that sort of pettiness.

Yeah, image is pretty important.

[ will shrugs, uncomfortable. he was being honest, if a little bitter, but he doesn't like to complain for the sake of complaining. and he doesn't laugh at edgeworth, for sharing the ideal that the bureau puts in the effort to perpetuate. ]

It's a workplace, like any other. You have a serial killer, say. The cop who finds a body, he wants a promotion, so he wants it closed quick. But the scene rings a few bells. The FBI sends in some experts, maybe they're just scene management, forensics, they want to do their job. Their boss wants them to crack it on the evidence alone, but the Special Agent in Behavioral, he thinks there's a pattern that means they can catch the next guy in the act. His boss doesn't want to do the paperchase, but he'll take credit for taking such a fine Agent under his wing if it comes through. The board, though, they don't think there should be another body, not when the tabloids are making them look incompetent. The deny the use of a field team, and reassign the Agent, so he decides to work the case in his own time, just 'cause he thinks it's right. But the cop at the scene isn't being co-operative. Unfortunately a Senator's son gets kidnapped, so resources get diverted, while it's in the public eye.

[ he shrugs. ]

People step on each other's toes. It's what we do. Comes with not being a hive mind.

Certainly.

[But again, that answer is distracted - this time because he's too focused on Will himself, watching his face closely, a frown on his own lips. There are broader implications to that story - a miserable chain of hypocrisy and grandstanding that oughtn't be present at the highest investigatory agency in the country...But Edgeworth sets his feeling of unhappiness aside, instead focusing on establishing the facts of the matter.]

Is this a hypothetical situation, sir? The details are very specific.

[ will chuckles softly. ]

I've seen similar things happen — in a couple of those roles. But it's just an idea — broad strokes of motivation that come together to make one single design.

[ if there's anything he's good at, it's extrapolating out a hypothetical situation based on his knowledge of how people work and then speaking on it at length. ]

[And Edgeworth blinks at the sound of that quiet laugh - shifts slightly. Graham seems so...grim, generally speaking; he'll grant he's only been speaking to him a few minutes, but he's been consistently solemn. A show of mirth from him is strangely jarring, like a pale branch grafted onto a dark tree.]

Of course.

[He clears his throat a moment later, his brows gathered together.]

Are there no attempts to curtail this? I should think that few should be glad to see so noble an institution struggling with such base concerns.

There's preventative measures in place. And don't get me wrong, we get a lot of good people, people who just want to do their job the best they can regardless of the money or the commendation.

[ he doesn't speak boastfully — he wouldn't call himself a good person. though he does what he does because he has to, even at the expense of his peace of mind. ]

There are always going to be terrible people in the world.

[ he thinks of hannibal, his perfected outfit on the sheep, his unsettling eyes and clever hands, hands you'd trust with your life. he thinks of jack, pushing for results, pushing. ]

Law enforcement attracts sociopaths pretty regularly. Power attracts sociopaths, really.

But that's hardly -

[He's put up a defense of himself and his profession so many times before that this one that starts to come from his mouth is habitual, practiced, and spirited, just like all the others. Three words in, though, he falters, because he's never really heard that idea expressed before, never heard those words spoken like that. Every time before, when he'd defended his profession, he'd had a weight of knowledge behind him, a firm grasp on the goodness of all the prosecutors he'd studied. He'd had no counterexamples.

But that word, sociopath, is laid side-by-side with his memory of the prosecutor he'd emulated more than any other, and it fits. It fits too well.

He'd never thought of von Karma like that before. Even when he'd sat in holding, he had always been trying to understand what exactly the offense had been that had made his mentor kill his father, why von Karma had shown him such indescribable kindness thereafter, why the man had been so decent and good as to give Miles a home. How he could reconcile the man who had kept so many people safe, put away so many criminals, with the man who would take his dad's life. There had been so many conflicting, difficult strands that Miles couldn't put together, that had tormented him -

What if it's that simple? What if von Karma just went into the law not because he was a good man, but because he wanted power? What if he was just a sociopath?

All these thoughts strike him unbidden, from nowhere; he's stopped speaking, and doesn't resume for too long a time, staring at Graham like he's said something deeply profound - and deeply wrenching, because his expression is lost, miserable, sorrowful. It takes too many moments before he remembers himself; when he does, he looks away sharply, with a harsh jerk of his head.

He must look completely mad.]

That's...hardly - hardly common.

[His counterargument is weak. His voice is weak. He stares down at his feet a moment, then to cover up for his miserable embarrassment, his dizzy confusion, crouches and calls out to his dog, stretching out a hand - ]

Pess, Pess.

[ it's highly possible that the way edgeworth is visibly and suddenly overcome has a lot to do with will's concern for his physical health, later on: such an abruptness of emotion, his face gone pale, body rigid, it could almost be a stroke or a pain or some other illness. ]

[ but he also has the look of a man who has simply suffered a great fright. will isn't... he isn't sure how to handle it. he leaves the young man be. ]

It's more common than you'd think.

[ he murmurs, though will graham's world is riotous with evil, populated nearly wholly by people with minimal ethics or conscience to speak of, both committing crimes and catching them. he thinks of chilton, of freddie lounds. of hannibal. ]

[ but he can actually take social cues, especially ones so plainly spelled out for him, and he takes a few steps away from edgeworth to call his own dog, knowing he might have to chase salem a little. ]

[Pess is - now, like always - a calming presence; it takes a few moments to break away from her play with Salem, but when she does she comes to him and leans sweetly against his knees, after a moment putting her muddy paws up on his thigh in an attempt to lick his chin. He encircles her with his arms; she wriggles in happiness; he lets out a sigh, some of the panic from that monstrous epiphany leaking away from him.

It's a full minute after Graham's last comment that Edgeworth replies.]

Perhaps you're right.

[He doesn't really register how long it's been, how strange and awkward that is. Instead he just scratches behind Pess' ears, staring down at her big doggish smile, and is quiet another moment. Finally:]

I do want to thank you for agreeing to this. She seems much cheered.

Yeah.

[ will's still looking askance at him, but it's not as though he can cast stones in his own glass house of personality deficiencies and awkward pauses. he looks away instead, shifts, and then takes a few steps to call salem. ]

It's been good for them.

[ he drops into a crouch, braces himself for a lap full of wriggling collie. ]

We'll have to do it again sometime.

[Edgeworth nods, working his fingers under Pess' collar. He's relaxed visibly.]

Yes, sir. By your leave, perhaps we might establish something semi-regular?

[ by my leave will mouths to no-one, somewhere between amused and horrified. ]

Sure. Sure.

[ he wonders how offended edgeworth would be if he suggested trading off accompanying them. ]

[Edgeworth's looking down, though, so he misses that expression.]

Very well. I'll contact you regarding an arrangement once I've taken a look at my schedule.

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who let the dogs out??

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this is so old / late but i didn't want to leave it hanging

There is no such thing as old or late; there is just doubly-welcome

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God I am sorry as hell for this tag

NO DON'T BE

Okay then I'm not

good. .... i think.

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