networkinthenight | [Audio] @ SuprNerd

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[The first few seconds of the recording is just Quentin breathing, fast and shaky at first and just before he speaks, the breathing evens out. The whole speech will be said fast and jerky, like the words are just spilling out without thought.]

What the hell? I can't be the only one who's thinking this, but just what the fucking hell? What the hell just happened? This place, oh shit, this place just-- did any of you see things? Hear things? Fucking feel things? And why? Just, why? I thought we were here to help, to find a way to solve this-- this whole puzzle and suddenly there's something here that made me think I was losing--? That's just-- it was just to fuck with all of us?

What the hell? That's what I want to know - just, what the hell? Is this hell? Is that why?

So, if you're listening to this, lady in the lighthouse? Fuck you! Seriously. Fuck. You.

Also, someone took my hoodie and I need that, so please bring it back. Thanks.

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How the hell is knowing that this is going to happen again comforting?

By serving as a reminder that this isn't personal and is unlikely to be an attack from a single individual but is instead, a pattern repeating through time, continually affecting this space.

It challenges a myopic perspective.

Right. So, it's comforting for you to think that this isn't personal. That there's no one doing this, it's just this town's version of the flu? Do you really believe that?

You're coming from a strange standpoint to ask about belief. I'm drawing upon the evidence.

Thus face we can confirm that the spirits have been encouraged to interact with us on a limited understanding of generalized human customs from earth. This interaction is not always appropriate or accurate, like their gift giving. The seasons have changed. This feels appropriately festive, don't you think?

We can confirm that there are creatures destroying worlds.

We can confirm that this world was not always shrouded in darkness and that these creatures that are drawn to light.

There's little reason to accuse someone who's priority is on finding a solution. I suspect that you dislike her on principle, on the basis that she can perform the resets. But we are all capable of 'killing' one another without her interference and that threat is far more present. Causing this would be an enormous waste of time.

I understand that you're having an emotional reaction to your own history and trauma. But reactions like this come as a detriment to the group. You need to think of more than yourself. We're relying on one another for survival. This is not a helpful contribution.

You're drawing upon hearsay. Who told you the spirits wants to communicate? Who says they don't understand us perfectly well, and are doing the things that they do on purpose?

How? Have you seen them? Because all I've seen, is someone telling me that they are coming and that it's on us to stop them.

And how how did you do that? This whole world could have been created to be dark. You have no idea if it ever had a sun. It could have had two, three. Or none. Gods do stupid shit like that all the time.

Oh, fuck you. I'm having a reaction to being forced to see things that aren't real and I'm not doing this to be helpful? I'm doing this because what just happened? Sucked balls!

Yes, it did.

But the grief is never going to stop. It doesn't matter whether you're forced to see something or not.

We can't afford to be this self-centered.

It does matter. It matters a lot? How can you not see it? It's grinding us down and for what? Shits and giggles? How would seeing something like this help us? It's just another roadblock, another distraction.

Maybe there's no quest at all, and this is just purgatory.

[It's a decision he doesn't make lightly.

To say that Bruce values his privacy is an understatement. It is one of the most valuable things he has. A certain amount of his life has always been lived out in the public, ensuring that the murder of his parents was a spectacle witnessed by the entire city. That by extension, Bruce himself would never be without an audience. It's cruel and it's senseless, that the death of the Waynes would be the front page of every paper, but that the people he's had to bury since haven't warranted a second glance.

He hesitates for a very long moment.

He still hasn't decided what he thinks of Quentin. His intentions seem usually good but his response to them is too personal, it limits solutions and results to his personal worldview and experience and that puts others in positions of vulnerability and danger. And now there's this. Where he shouts his outrage across the network and then talks to Bruce about distraction, unwilling or unable to see the contradiction.]

You don't see it when you close your eyes? Or before you go to sleep?

[The voice that comes across the feed doesn't sound angry or even disappointed. The subject of the reply is personal but his tone isn't. There's something tired and quiet in his inflection, a betrayal Bruce can't scrub away completely.]

It isn't a distraction if you don't allow yourself to be distracted. We can't undo what's happened, but we can decide what the experience means for us. To practice seeing outside of pain.

The people here with us are our responsibility.

The last time we spoke you were interested in a collaborative effort to examine and understand this place. But you won't be able to help anyone if you don't look away from your own grief. Carry it, but look forward.

[There's a good, long wait between Quentin getting the voice message and him sending one back. Texting, allows for a chance to think about his words, about what he wants to say and can be deleted over and over until he finds something he can live with. He can't do that, when he's talking. So, he's going to try to follow the advice Eliot gave him after the first post he made. He's going to try and write it out before replying. And rewriting it.

Who ever this guy is, Quentin's not even sure if they've met, which is not a surprise to someone who spends most days in either the library or in the cabin, but he might have been to the town meeting, where Quentin spent most of his time not paying attention to anything but the pretty witch in the next seat. But. Whoever he is, he's very, very annoying. No one can be that calm all the time and not be a serial killer. Or in customer service.

And the absolute worst part of all of it, is that some of what he says makes sense. In a 'tilt you head and remove your emotions' kind of way. Something that Quentin had thought of, but the bottles had to be made special and it had to be made by the light of the midday sun. Yet another way for Beacon to screw them over. Because without all the emotions crashing through him, all the damn time, all of this would be so much easier. It would be so much easier to see what had to be done, if he didn't have to look at Eliot and know he'd been trapped in his own personal hell for a week, and might be again. If he didn't have to feel all of these feelings about things and people and this almost desperate need to get away.

So he writes and rewrites and ends up throwing it all away before pressing the button.]

And in my dreams? Every waking moment of my life? Sure, and they can stay inside my head forever. There's no reason for that shit to just. Look, you're trying to help and thank you? But I don't need therapy and I don't need to learn how to deal with pain. I need-- shit. I don't need any of this, but we are all here now and. And I just don't understand why. Why do you believe the light house lady? About anything? Why do you think the spirits are friendly?

[And he sounds close to tears, or at least exhausted and more heartbroken than angry.]

Why-- why isn't everyone freaking out about any of this? You said it yourself, there are kids here and they went through this, too. It's-- I can't do this again. I just can't. You might be able to-- to do whatever to see it from the outside, whatever that even means. And I can't watch this happen to-- I can't watch this happen to other people. And not do something.

I thought you were against that whole idea, since I didn't mention people without powers? That making a list would be stupid, and not helpful. And now you think I can help people? At all?

People are reacting to it. I can't speak to the choices made by everyone else, but I suppose my answer is this:

You said that you can't watch this happen and not do something. I can't either. But I can't use my pain and outrage this way, it isn't productive. I'd rather turn it towards investigating- asking questions and following leads.

When emotions run high it's very easy to make reactive decisions and rush to judgment. It's a good time to invite obstacles and force yourself to slow down. I need to think of more than just myself. I've seen what kind of person I can be when I don't.

[A pause. It's just long enough for Bruce to squeeze his eyes closed and count through his exhale- a practice he'd adopted at Alfred's behest. It's easy, and always has been, for Bruce's thoughts to spin out ahead of him.]

What I told you about making a list was that some people would have experience with lists like that being used against them and that we have no guarantee that people who arrive here wouldn't manipulate it. And also told you that we should look at more than super human abilities for a solution. It's reasonable to believe that powerful people have come in groups like this in the past and they were still reset. We need to diversify.

[His posture softens and with it, so does his voice.]

If you asked me I would say that I believe your intentions are good.

But you need to surround yourself with people who challenge your perspective and your strengths. Find people that you trust but who don't always agree with you. It isn't simply a matter of staying balanced. But sometimes we need to be protected from ourselves.

[The reply comes faster this time, but mostly because the first four minutes are just Quentin breathing and moving around. The noises filtering through the message might sound like hands on cloth, rustling and Quentin's hitching breaths, erratic and unsteady as they are, he's still breathing.

Which is weird and stupid, because they're all dead.]

Oh shit!

I-- [there's a watery kind of laugh] Yeah, no. Eliot never really agrees with me on anything? I think it's just something he does now. Disagree with me. Maybe it's, uh, maybe he's trying to prove a point. I don't--[a deep sigh] I don't know.

[And he's revealing too much to a voice on the network. More than Eliot would want him to ever say, maybe just by the tone of his voice or the implied familiarity. But Quentin is tired, so fucking tired. Like someone ran his brain through a tenderizer and squeezed it out like toothpaste.]

Who? Who else do you need to think about? Is it someone who's afraid of the list? I didn't even-- I didn't think it through, and. And yeah, maybe some people are right to keep that part of themselves a secret? I just never thought it would be-- that it would be an issue in the afterlife?

[How to even begin explain the feelings of finding out that so many different places existed, with so many different kinds of powers. The differences that also felt reassuring because underneath it all, they were all people, with feelings and fears. How could he ever explain the feeling of being on the outside always looking in, and how he'd had to be protected from himself so many times in the past. And the one time no one looked carefully enough, he found a way to end it all.

He can't, not yet. Not without giving away things he'd rather keep to himself. Quentin sighs again, swallowing hard enough to be heard on the message.]

And yeah. Yeah, maybe we do. Sometimes.

I don't have all the answers to a question like that. People here have experiences and lives far different than my own. Some that I can't even imagine.

But even without metahuman abilities, I think everyone understands the power of a secret. And if this is the afterlife, I've never known death to discriminate between good people and bad.

[On the opposite end Bruce eases backwards into his chair. The tablet is there when he looks down, cradled between his hands.]

I'm not asking you to love the people here. Perhaps that's something you're unable to give. But I know that you're trying to help, and I wanted to remind you that if one man was enough to solve the riddle of this place, we never would have arrived at all.

Yeah, tell me about it. Have you met Daylight? He's, uh, this really huge metal guy? But nice? Like, really nice. I can'timagine what his world must be like.

[But all traces of a smile is wiped from Quentin's voice as he goes on.]

Maybe because most people think they're the good guys, even when they're very much not? There's was-- this thing back in my world, and we had to catch a bad person? Who, uh, ripped people's eyes out and. And it turned out, he wasn't all bad? He didn't start out that way, and the real bad guy, thought he had every right to--uh, to do what he did.

{[Quentin clears his throat because Plover had been- a huge scumbag and that whole story was just a nightmare.]

Yeah, but. [deep breath] Yeah. I mean, not about the loving people because, I really don't know anyone, so expecting that seems-- uh, like a lot? But about the one man saving everything? Maybe you're not all wrong about that?

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