"As far as dreams are from reality ... yes, that's one way to phrase it." Dimitri lays out the broadest strokes: the Captain's pursuit of godhood, and his torment of the passengers to fuel it and to entertain himself. The battle royale, the truth-compelling rain, the diner and its hordes of walking corpses (leaving out that one of those corpses had been Dedue's). "This past month -- though I don't believe this was actually the Captain's doing -- some of us were ... overtaken by the spirits of previous passengers. They meant to kill us all to free the rest of their companions. We think that's stopped, but I -- I still cannot be sure that anyone is truly who they seem to be."
And now for the worst part. Dimitri steels himself, searching for words. It's hard to explain something he's been trying not to face, himself. Never mind that his head starts to hurt if he thinks about it for too long.
"I don't fully understand it," he begins carefully. "Some of the more scholarly passengers have compiled a document -- it's in the library -- but ... it's not that we have left Fódlan, exactly. More that we, here, are copies of the Dedue and Dimitri still at home. And at the instant we awoke here, our paths began to diverge from theirs." Deep breath. "If we were to be sent back, we would be twins with ourselves. We can't return, because 'we' never left."
Before that can sit too long, Dimitri continues, hurriedly, "I don't know if they're correct. I pray that they're wrong, that there is some way for us to find our way home." Simply escaping isn't enough; he knows better than to offer it. Darcy or Skulduggery might be able to accept leaving for worlds unknown; Erin, who can be happy calling the ship itself her home; Giles and Ossie, whose home exists at an angle to the rest of the world -- but Dedue and Dimitri are bound too tightly to their birthplaces to take root on foreign soil. "I have not given up, and I will not give up. I swore an oath, and I will not see it broken. But ... for now, that is what we know of our situation."
He shuts his mouth, and watches worriedly for a reaction.
no subject
And now for the worst part. Dimitri steels himself, searching for words. It's hard to explain something he's been trying not to face, himself. Never mind that his head starts to hurt if he thinks about it for too long.
"I don't fully understand it," he begins carefully. "Some of the more scholarly passengers have compiled a document -- it's in the library -- but ... it's not that we have left Fódlan, exactly. More that we, here, are copies of the Dedue and Dimitri still at home. And at the instant we awoke here, our paths began to diverge from theirs." Deep breath. "If we were to be sent back, we would be twins with ourselves. We can't return, because 'we' never left."
Before that can sit too long, Dimitri continues, hurriedly, "I don't know if they're correct. I pray that they're wrong, that there is some way for us to find our way home." Simply escaping isn't enough; he knows better than to offer it. Darcy or Skulduggery might be able to accept leaving for worlds unknown; Erin, who can be happy calling the ship itself her home; Giles and Ossie, whose home exists at an angle to the rest of the world -- but Dedue and Dimitri are bound too tightly to their birthplaces to take root on foreign soil. "I have not given up, and I will not give up. I swore an oath, and I will not see it broken. But ... for now, that is what we know of our situation."
He shuts his mouth, and watches worriedly for a reaction.