[ Sylvain had asked for a story, and Claude had delivered. How much of it he'd embellished will remain a mystery forever considering that he doesn't plan to clear any of it up. He's about to offer up a friendly warning when Sylvain's thoughts are broadcasted into his mind.
It takes him by surprise, because he'd thought they were smoothing over things from their last encounter.
But perhaps not. Sylvain had made clear what he thought about Claude's secrets, and what he thought it said about his character, and he doubts this story has changed his perception any.
He just didn't expect Sylvain to be so duplicitous about it. ]
Tell me how you really feel, Sylvain.
[ His voice is dry, but the whispers that slither into his mind are far more serious.
He thinks about the fact that of all the familiar faces that could've followed them onto the train, that it was Sylvain. That the Blue Lions are the most loyal to their heir than all the other houses, and that Faerghus, even more than Leicester, has felt the burn of foreign peoples.
It would be easy to get rid of a threat in the dark. ]
[ There's a sudden and distinct shift in mood, the tenuous good humor between them replaced by mistrust. Had this been Claude's plan all along? Get Sylvain to lower his guard with a funny story or two, and then confront him alone...? He tries not to react too obviously either way, self-preservation instinct kicking in. ]
...'bout what, your story? It's—
[ —suspicious, but I guess I can't really be surprised.
His own thoughts are interrupted by Claude's cutting in, cold and unforgiving. His pulse stutters as his adrenaline spikes. (It doesn't make any sense. Why would Claude go through the trouble of all this buildup, just to deliver a blunt threat? Don't tell him he's in another twisted dream—) ]
—a bit much for a joke, don't you think?
[ And yet he can't shake the feeling that Claude is entirely serious. He'll find a way to slit Sylvain's throat one car or another, maybe even use one of his poisons he's rumored to be so knowledgeable about.
[ This situation is odd. Claude is used to dancing around subjects. To avoiding ever revealing his hand or his thoughts, and only offering up implications or teasing hints of information. It's easy, because he doesn't mind playing the long game, and as long as the one thing he's invested in—his future—remains possible, he can endure anything else.
But in this space, he feels— bothered. Uneasy and afraid. Instead of focusing on his goal (their shared goal) of bringing the light to the cauldron, his mind wanders back to the threat at his side. And even that isn't unusual, he often plans for things to go awry, but for some reason his mind won't settle.
He can't calm himself by categorically working through the position of his dagger, the options he has for retaliation if Sylvain should attack.
He can't stop this feeling of... agitation. The thud of his heart and the desperation to escape this situation.
Get out. Something's wrong. ]
Why does keeping secrets make me a threat, Sylvain? [ He says this nonchalantly. ] Do you feel entitled to the life stories of everyone you know?
[ Sylvain knows this feeling of inescapable dread, of being subject to someone who wants you dead. He's no longer the boy he once was, pushed into an old well or left behind in the dead of winter when no one was looking, but the fear remains the same. (It's unnatural, but well-constructed enough that it evokes a physiological response.)
He doesn't think Claude is anything like Miklan, but his instincts won't settle either, even if they're wrong. ]
No, but you saying you're gonna take me out in the dark does.
[ His grip on Claude's hand tightens, enough that the other boy can't slip his fingers away to draw a weapon. (His other hand is still occupied with the torch, which he could easily swing at Sylvain, or drop in favor of something else.) ]
Despite what you may've heard, I don't get on my back for just anyone.
[ Not that I would've minded, if things had been different. ]
[ Despite the paranoia welling up in the base of his throat, a sudden thread of confusion cuts through Claude's thoughts, and he gives Sylvain an incredulous look. ]
Me? You're the one plotting to get rid of me after we get to the cauldron.
[ And that's about all Claude manages to get out, considering that Sylvain's thought comes so far out of left field it leaves him speechless.
It's disarming, because it's embarrassing and Claude is rarely embarrassed. It's also incredibly uncomfortable considering that he's convinced, for some reason, that Sylvain wants to kill him. For the two impulses to be combined is kind of... weird.
He focuses ahead. ]
I just want to get out of this car. I don't have any interest in picking a fight with you, Sylvain.
[ Sylvain gawks openly at Claude, sorely tempted to let go of his hand and navigate the rest of the way to the cauldron by the puny light of his phone. (If only it worked that way...) ]
What? [ That's definitely Claude's idea?! ] Why would I do that? In case you've forgotten, we won't get off this train until our numbers go down.
[ By that logic... It wouldn't make sense for Claude to murder him in cold blood either... Ugh, this makes no damn sense.
He has to make a dedicated effort to release the bruising pressure he's applying to Claude's hand, and keep his wits about him. ]
I don't want anything from you. But if you don't trust me then feel free to let go whenever.
[ What difference does it make where you're from. This is so stupid. ]
[ This is so stupid, and luckily Claude's confusion and irritation are doing an admirable job at keeping the influences of this car at bay. ]
You don't, do you? Not even when, in between issuing threats, you decided to mention how you wouldn't mind getting on your back in another time and place?
[ Get your priorities straight, idiot. It's still somewhat embarrassing to say out loud, but the hot and cold attitude is getting on his nerves. ]
In any case, it should be no surprise that I don't trust you. But I'm not so scared that I'd focus on that over getting out of here.
Okay I definitely didn't say that. [ Out loud. (He only thought it for a split second... An invasive thought. Everyone has them!! How did Claude—)
...Something's really not adding up here. It's like they're thinking the exact same thing, but somewhere along the way the signals are getting scrambled. As if they're sharing the same wavelength which unfortunately happens to be set to a headache-inducing frequency.
He tries not to glare outright at Claude, though he's also peeved enough that his stare probably comes off sharper than necessary. —And then his eyes widen in surprise when he hears Claude's voice clearly again, despite no indication of him actually talking. He goes still, unintentionally tugging Claude to an abrupt stop. ]
Wait. I... I'm gonna try something.
[ He covers his own mouth with his other hand, while maintaining steady eye contact.
[ It might be dark in this car, but it's not so dark that Claude can't tell exactly what Sylvain is testing. And for a moment, he goes still with disbelief.
But very quickly that disbelief turns into resignation.
Of course..
He just shakes his head, rubbing his temples as he absorbs this new bit of information. ]
There's really nothing sacred in the eyes of this train, is there? [ Not even a guy's thoughts. ] Well...
[ He's going to keep walking, because he really wants to get out of here, and standing in one place is making him anxious. When he continues talking however, he sounds more thoughtful than accusing, ] So you just thought about getting rid of me once we reached the cauldron, instead of saying it out loud.
[ ...One big fat mystery solved, and yet none of their problems have been fixed! Only made that much more convoluted. Sylvain resists the urge to sigh, and tries to piece together a coherent explanation despite the dread that still rattles through him. ]
Uh, no. I was thinking you were gonna get rid of me after we lit the cauldron. You were going on about getting rid of threats in the dark, but I figured there was no way you'd compromise your best chance of getting out of this car.
[ I can't believe I have to even explain this, there's no way he's gonna—you don't believe me, do you. ]
... [ Uuughhhh. ] It's nothing personal.
[ Just used to having a target painted—let's not go there.
...It's really hard to turn off his thoughts now that they're truly racing, and Sylvain is less than thrilled about it. ]
Can we just pretend this never happened? Take a mutual vow of silence?
[ Even though he's sick of singing (see: crystal car), he will start mentally humming if it means not having everything in his brain transmitted where he doesn't want it to go... ]
[ Is silence really going to help in this situation?
He knows that Sylvain means after they leave this car, but he can't stop his thoughts anyway. Still, he doesn't say anything else, not even to tease Sylvain over the stumbling of his thoughts.
His own echo the irritated groan, shifting incomprehensibly between trying to focus on the task at hand, and thinking about how much he hates this. It's way too much intimacy. ]
... I was convinced that you'd get rid of me here, in the dark, where no one would know it was you.
[ He sounds a little like he still believes it. ]
It's not as though you haven't already told me you think I'm some sort of threat to Dimitri.
So... you're paranoid of me, and I'm just as paranoid of you. That's definitely working in our favor.
[ Sylvain dares to laugh again, the sound of it dry and bewildered. But he can't blame Claude for his conjecture, especially after the way their last conversation went. (And it's not as if Sylvain hasn't had troubling thoughts...) ]
Look, I don't think you're actually a threat to Dimitri.
[ Let's be real he could snap us both in half. While Claude is an evasive punk, Sylvain doesn't really get the vibes of nefarious evildoing from him—at least not until he'd stepped foot into this car. (Strange, that.) ]
I was [ feeling sore from—... ] not in a great mood at the time, let's just say.
[ ... ] I guess this is where I say I'm sorry, a few months too late.
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no subject
It takes him by surprise, because he'd thought they were smoothing over things from their last encounter.
But perhaps not. Sylvain had made clear what he thought about Claude's secrets, and what he thought it said about his character, and he doubts this story has changed his perception any.
He just didn't expect Sylvain to be so duplicitous about it. ]
Tell me how you really feel, Sylvain.
[ His voice is dry, but the whispers that slither into his mind are far more serious.
He thinks about the fact that of all the familiar faces that could've followed them onto the train, that it was Sylvain. That the Blue Lions are the most loyal to their heir than all the other houses, and that Faerghus, even more than Leicester, has felt the burn of foreign peoples.
It would be easy to get rid of a threat in the dark. ]
no subject
...'bout what, your story? It's—
[ —suspicious, but I guess I can't really be surprised.
His own thoughts are interrupted by Claude's cutting in, cold and unforgiving. His pulse stutters as his adrenaline spikes. (It doesn't make any sense. Why would Claude go through the trouble of all this buildup, just to deliver a blunt threat? Don't tell him he's in another twisted dream—) ]
—a bit much for a joke, don't you think?
[ And yet he can't shake the feeling that Claude is entirely serious. He'll find a way to slit Sylvain's throat one car or another, maybe even use one of his poisons he's rumored to be so knowledgeable about.
You're useless as soon as that cauldron's lit. ]
no subject
But in this space, he feels— bothered. Uneasy and afraid. Instead of focusing on his goal (their shared goal) of bringing the light to the cauldron, his mind wanders back to the threat at his side. And even that isn't unusual, he often plans for things to go awry, but for some reason his mind won't settle.
He can't calm himself by categorically working through the position of his dagger, the options he has for retaliation if Sylvain should attack.
He can't stop this feeling of... agitation. The thud of his heart and the desperation to escape this situation.
Get out. Something's wrong. ]
Why does keeping secrets make me a threat, Sylvain? [ He says this nonchalantly. ] Do you feel entitled to the life stories of everyone you know?
no subject
He doesn't think Claude is anything like Miklan, but his instincts won't settle either, even if they're wrong. ]
No, but you saying you're gonna take me out in the dark does.
[ His grip on Claude's hand tightens, enough that the other boy can't slip his fingers away to draw a weapon. (His other hand is still occupied with the torch, which he could easily swing at Sylvain, or drop in favor of something else.) ]
Despite what you may've heard, I don't get on my back for just anyone.
[ Not that I would've minded, if things had been different. ]
no subject
Me? You're the one plotting to get rid of me after we get to the cauldron.
[ And that's about all Claude manages to get out, considering that Sylvain's thought comes so far out of left field it leaves him speechless.
It's disarming, because it's embarrassing and Claude is rarely embarrassed. It's also incredibly uncomfortable considering that he's convinced, for some reason, that Sylvain wants to kill him. For the two impulses to be combined is kind of... weird.
He focuses ahead. ]
I just want to get out of this car. I don't have any interest in picking a fight with you, Sylvain.
no subject
What? [ That's definitely Claude's idea?! ] Why would I do that? In case you've forgotten, we won't get off this train until our numbers go down.
[ By that logic... It wouldn't make sense for Claude to murder him in cold blood either... Ugh, this makes no damn sense.
He has to make a dedicated effort to release the bruising pressure he's applying to Claude's hand, and keep his wits about him. ]
I don't want anything from you. But if you don't trust me then feel free to let go whenever.
[ What difference does it make where you're from. This is so stupid. ]
no subject
You don't, do you? Not even when, in between issuing threats, you decided to mention how you wouldn't mind getting on your back in another time and place?
[ Get your priorities straight, idiot. It's still somewhat embarrassing to say out loud, but the hot and cold attitude is getting on his nerves. ]
In any case, it should be no surprise that I don't trust you. But I'm not so scared that I'd focus on that over getting out of here.
no subject
...Something's really not adding up here. It's like they're thinking the exact same thing, but somewhere along the way the signals are getting scrambled. As if they're sharing the same wavelength which unfortunately happens to be set to a headache-inducing frequency.
He tries not to glare outright at Claude, though he's also peeved enough that his stare probably comes off sharper than necessary. —And then his eyes widen in surprise when he hears Claude's voice clearly again, despite no indication of him actually talking. He goes still, unintentionally tugging Claude to an abrupt stop. ]
Wait. I... I'm gonna try something.
[ He covers his own mouth with his other hand, while maintaining steady eye contact.
You can still hear me, can't you? ]
no subject
But very quickly that disbelief turns into resignation.
Of course..
He just shakes his head, rubbing his temples as he absorbs this new bit of information. ]
There's really nothing sacred in the eyes of this train, is there? [ Not even a guy's thoughts. ] Well...
[ He's going to keep walking, because he really wants to get out of here, and standing in one place is making him anxious. When he continues talking however, he sounds more thoughtful than accusing, ] So you just thought about getting rid of me once we reached the cauldron, instead of saying it out loud.
no subject
Uh, no. I was thinking you were gonna get rid of me after we lit the cauldron. You were going on about getting rid of threats in the dark, but I figured there was no way you'd compromise your best chance of getting out of this car.
[ I can't believe I have to even explain this, there's no way he's gonna—you don't believe me, do you. ]
... [ Uuughhhh. ] It's nothing personal.
[ Just used to having a target painted—let's not go there.
...It's really hard to turn off his thoughts now that they're truly racing, and Sylvain is less than thrilled about it. ]
Can we just pretend this never happened? Take a mutual vow of silence?
[ Even though he's sick of singing (see: crystal car), he will start mentally humming if it means not having everything in his brain transmitted where he doesn't want it to go... ]
no subject
He knows that Sylvain means after they leave this car, but he can't stop his thoughts anyway. Still, he doesn't say anything else, not even to tease Sylvain over the stumbling of his thoughts.
His own echo the irritated groan, shifting incomprehensibly between trying to focus on the task at hand, and thinking about how much he hates this. It's way too much intimacy. ]
... I was convinced that you'd get rid of me here, in the dark, where no one would know it was you.
[ He sounds a little like he still believes it. ]
It's not as though you haven't already told me you think I'm some sort of threat to Dimitri.
no subject
So... you're paranoid of me, and I'm just as paranoid of you. That's definitely working in our favor.
[ Sylvain dares to laugh again, the sound of it dry and bewildered. But he can't blame Claude for his conjecture, especially after the way their last conversation went. (And it's not as if Sylvain hasn't had troubling thoughts...) ]
Look, I don't think you're actually a threat to Dimitri.
[ Let's be real he could snap us both in half. While Claude is an evasive punk, Sylvain doesn't really get the vibes of nefarious evildoing from him—at least not until he'd stepped foot into this car. (Strange, that.) ]
I was [ feeling sore from—... ] not in a great mood at the time, let's just say.
[ ... ] I guess this is where I say I'm sorry, a few months too late.