recolle | My familiar stranger

My familiar stranger

WHO: Dylan Walker and OPEN; Dylan Walker and Dante Rantanen (Closed)
WHERE: Amagi Inn
WHEN: 1/20-1/27 (Open Prompt); 1/28 (Dylan & Dante)
WHAT: Brotherly ~~Love~~ Confrontation and random meet-ups before then.
WARNINGS: None planned

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[Open Prompt]
Dylan had been successfully staying at different hotels throughout the city while he combed the Recollé network for information about Dante. He was looking for what he thought would be truer insights into what Dante was like instead of trying to get a load of bull straight from his twin's mouth. He hadn't liked what he found - things like inventing new blood-brother bonds seemingly in an attempt to supplant his true connections - but at the same time it was satisfying in a way. He learned just enough about Dante and this Fight Club thing to be convinced that his twin had fallen from the graces of cultured society into being some thug who cuts his hand to swap blood with near-strangers and brawls with sharp weapons.

He wanted to brush off the thoughts he'd had in the wake of these revelations as nothing more than "Recollé BS" as one of Dante's acquaintances had put it. They couldn't possibly be real, because absolutely none of it reconciled with his upbringing in Australia. He wasn't naïve to the fact that he was upper-class and that plenty of people lived very different lives, but what he saw... a storm on an island with some dark monster-shadow and hearing a voice talking to him in a crystal-clear way as if they knew his twin existed, when Dylan would've been too young to recall something in such a clear way... No. To him they were just nonsense dreams. They had to be. He had what information he needed about Dante and he was content to leave. Dylan of course assumed he COULD leave.

Of course then he started throwing his name and money around with an expectation he'd be able to leave whenever he wanted, only to find out that wasn't the case.

So Dylan can be found in hotel lobbies scrolling through the phone app for more details about Dante and his Fight Club, writing in a journal at upscale coffee shops as well as doing schoolwork, and staring thoughtfully at pianos, whether they be in a store or available in one of the hotels he staying at. He might stop for a street performer if they're any good. Generally he's just skulking around in an attempt to keep out of sight of Dante until he can leave the city.

[Closed to Dante]
Dylan tried everything he could think of to get out of the city for several days at several hotels before returning to the Amagi Inn purely out of frustration, like maybe if he went back to one of the previous places he'd stand a better chance trying again.

He leaves his room and starts to leave for the day when he stops dead in his tracks, frowning. There's Dante at the Front Desk. He'd found him.

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Even on his days off, Togusa still primarily runs on coffee. He's out of uniform when he steps into one of his favorite coffee shops, of course near the University. He is scanning the faces of the patons and trying to look nonchalant about it. (Is it pathetic that he's still hoping to run into her, to find a reason to talk to her, even if she's forgotten about Retrospec?)

What he sees isn't the face of Gentiana Illyria, but of Dante. A boy that looks startlingly like how Dante looked before his hair changed color. A cold chill shoots through Togusa's limbs, given what he was just thinking of. Did Dante forget? Did he just fall out of sync? Did Retrospec reset him, too? Not him.

Togusa approaches Dylan cautiously, and for a second he's thankful that he isn't in uniform. Dante's initial reaction to Togusa The Cop was fairly antagonistic.

"Excuse me," he tries to keep his voice polite, "you probably get this all the time, but you look just like somebody I know."

He's in clothes that broadcast the social hierarchy he wants to be associated with - one that doesn't go brawling in the streets.

"Hmph," is all Dylan responds with at first. It's true that Togusa was pretty polite. He also doesn't know exactly what everyone looks like - he remembers names and their relationship to Dante, but not faces. "With any luck, you'll be the last person to say so," he replies through his accent with a bit of frigid tone primarily focused on his other frustrations - the fact he can't get out of here. "Apparently he's quite popular."

In a way that Dylan did not understand. At all.

It's the accent that does it, and pure relief hits Togusa first. Dante has never had an accent like that. But it's followed up quickly by confusion. "You're not...Dante." Way to state the obvious.

Togusa's mouth doesn't quite close all the way, as he pulls out a chair and sits down. This is severely disorienting, but his curiosity, as usual, overrides any caution. He offers over a hand. "Hitori Togusa." Again, he will leave off the 'Officer' part.

"I really am not the first person to confuse you with Dante Rantanen, then?"

There's still a flicker of nonplussed disinterest when the man names Dante. He shakes his head no. Finally though, when the man's name comes tumbling out, Dylan's eyes react just enough that a trained Officer can probably notice; there's recognition there.

"No, not the first." He'll give that credit to his mother, but certainly Sora the first in the city. He sips his drink, trying to sound like it's not a big deal. "If you're looking for him, I don't know where he is." That seems innocuous enough an answer, surely.

Whoever this is, he has the capacity to be as cagey as Dante. But he knows who Togusa is. And he knows who Dante is to be confused with him. All right, Togusa will play.

Togusa waves his hand in dismissal. "I know his stomping grounds, I can chase him down when I need him. Not as unpredictable as he likes to think he is." Not as unpredictable as this.

"But I haven't seen you around, or I would have made this mistake before. Only come here recently?"

He spent enough time talking to Togusa over text that he knows not to dispute the man's logic. He does note the unpredictable bit for later, too.

So he smirks in amusement, playing up the foreigner angle. "Do I sound like a native, huh? Or is it because I haven't said a proper 'g'day mate' yet that you weren't too sure?" Then he gestures to his satchel bag as more evidence that significant things are being carried around on his person rather than left behind in a secure room.

Togusa smiles back. Definitely as cagey as Dante. "I meant to the city, but new here to America, too? I'm not originally from here, myself, I decided to stick around after college." But his own accent is mostly gone. "Like the city too much."

He eases back in his chair, adopts a more relaxed posture. "There's plenty around to see if you're only here for a while. Founder's Day's coming up in only a couple of weeks. Usually a good street festival the covers the entire city."

He sighs. "Why do you care if I'm around for some street festival, though? I thought you would want to talk about something else entirely." Dylan's patience is thinner than Dante's too, by the looks of it, because he would much rather be working on his compositions. Realizing that Togusa might see them, he does close the notepad he was working out of.

"Or is this how you gab with all of his friends who're younger than you?" Maybe that's all it is, not knowing what else to talk to a college-aged kid about except for... college.

Togusa's head lowers, and he smiles one of those smiles he learned from Mariko, amused and lightly predatory. "Of course I'd rather be more direct, I just thought I'd be polite first. You've got his manners, too."

He'll continue to channel his friend for a second. Because he doesn't truly think this kid is trouble, but it's too strange for Togusa to walk away without information. "Someone who looks exactly like one of my friends appears. Who seems to know a lot about him, but isn't him. I figured the longer I sat here, the more I'd see differences between you, but no, you are way too close."

He leans in again, elbow on the table, and props his hand up on one hand. "So who are you? Never mind who you are to Dante."

Dylan doesn't take well to the tone shift, but he supposes it was inevitable. He could just leave, drop the conversation the way he had the text conversations, but it's not going to be that easy.

So instead, Dylan stares back at Togusa. "You can razz me all you want about how similar we are or aren't, but I've never met the guy." He chucks one hand up in the air dismissively. "Don't think I want to either, after all this." He pulls his shoulders back and squares them, trying to look as confident and upper crust as he can, like he's not about to let some off-duty cop get him in trouble for researching his family mess.

He folds his arms across the table though, still staring at Togusa. "I'm the one who knew enough to go reading through the phone app to see what he was like after I got here. It's all public information - nothing illegal to it."

Togusa blinks and leans back, Dylan actually surprised him there. "The Retrospec crap? You're caught up in it, too?" The look on his face turns dismayed. "But you just got here. What happened, they get to you as soon as you got to the city? Hell."

Oh. Wait. He's on the app. Guess what Togusa can do? Outwardly, nothing changes, he just keeps looking at Dylan in the eye. But a screen comes up in his vision, his cyberbrain reaching out to Retrospec, and pulling up a user list. It'll take him a while, so he needs to keep talking. And he's genuinely curious about what is going on here.

"I can explain the Retrospec part of this as best I can. But you'll find the stuff on the app isn't quite public information. Try to show it to somebody outside of Retrospec's 200 or so 'chosen few'" oh, the sarcasm Togusa puts on those words, "and they won't be able to see it. So I guess it's lucky Retrospec did pick you out, if you were going to be looking for info on Dante."

'See what he was like.' He was doing homework on him. Did he come here for Dante? Who is he?

"Oh you explained plenty the first time. It was public enough, that's what I'm getting at here." He has no idea that Togusa can do that trick with his eye and cybernetic brain, but he's confident enough that he didn't do anything illegal - the only one who did being that girl who threatened him with violence. "Yes, I came here by choice. The name's Dylan Walker."

He crosses his arms then, waiting for Togusa to remember that name and realize why Dylan had been so insistent on trying to get what intel he could. "I can see now why you'd be surprised I got the app as soon as I arrived; it's not the kind of town that exactly attracts tourists. I had planned to leave a week ago." Planned to, that's the problem.

Togusa's eyebrows raise in recognition. Closes the user list and pulls up his message history with Dylan, then. "Pleasure to meet you," he mutters. "I thought you were just another new person, got sent my name. I've been rather public about my attempts to get and give info on Retrospec."

"Planned," Togusa's voice drops. "But now, nothing's leaving. Not through that dome. I'm sorry." For a second, he sounds legitimately sympathetic. "If Retrospec gives you up, lets you out of the loop? Drops you from the app, makes you forget everything? I still don't know if you'd be able to leave the city. Somehow we've been getting supplies, the grocery stores are still stocked," Togusa gestures to the coffee shop counter, "they don't seem to think they're on rations."

"But nothing else."

Dylan starts to think about that idea - of forgetting everything about the city. "Forgetting... that would include what I found out about Dante, wouldn't it? If that happened... I'd just keep looking around here forever, wouldn't I? I'd..." If nothing else, he gets that he'd be... different somehow. There's that word he heard the strange man say in his memory - dream he tries to correct himself, but the word remains. 'Copy.' To be a copy of someone else... of the person he is now? That's an awful thought, to him. He's already trying to convince his mother that he's a worthy inheritor to her name despite her outburst that she wished she had Dante around instead.

"Eventually whoever's doing this will have to let people out, won't they? I don't want to forget, but..." And he stops then, unable to think of anything he'd do while also risking losing a part of himself. So he repeats: "I don't want to forget."

It's not what he expected to hear from Togusa, this sympathy and insight into a side of his predicament that wasn't pure frustration with regards to Dante. "They can't keep us here for years," he protests, just now starting to frame his situation like an accidental prison sentence.

Togusa slowly nods along while Dylan works it through. The window shuts off in his vision, he doesn't need it. He still doesn't have the connection between him and Dante, but maybe he doesn't need to. There are more important things to talk about.

I don't want to forget. That's all of them, really. Sometimes it feels like a blessing for Retrospec to let one of them go. But given the choice, no one would want to walk away, to go back to pretending this isn't happening.

"They can't," Togusa insists. "People have left the city just fine before. But the dome is- new." He glances out a window, the damn thing is visible from anywhere in the city. "I have a feeling it's expending Retrospec's resources to do this. And everything we've learned about them says they have limited resources. Every time they try something, something else breaks. So they cannot keep this up forever. I wouldn't even give them months, maybe not even weeks. Forget years. That's how much of a skeleton crew they seem to be running with."

"So it's going to end. It's all a question of what we do in the meantime."

"What we do?" Dylan is slightly incredulous. "You're a cop. Some people have super strength or can use swords. They can't keep people like you in here, maybe, but..." Someone like him. He doesn't want to admit that the ability to write music is going to be of limited use up against a dome powerful enough to keep someone like Fang or Leo or Dante caged.

... Dante.

Hypothetically, he could just go talk to Dante about all of this. He knows more. They could... but he doesn't know if he even wants them to become as close as brothers could. Not with Prompto around.

So he just looks Togusa back in the eyes, scrutinizing but trying to believe his words. "I just don't know what you expect me to do other than sit around and pretend to be a normal college student ready to go back to Oz as soon as the dome lowers, that's all."

For a moment, Togusa wants to comment that Dylan thinks more of him than he really should. But this is serious. His face gets a little more open, his finger stabs straight down into the table. "This is really important. Nobody. Not even Retrospec, to be honest. But nobody is asking or expecting anybody involved to fight or do something that would put them in danger."

"If what you want to do is enjoy the rest of your vacation and get out of here when Retrospec over-extends themselves and has to let people out? Then, by all means please do it. One of the things I've been trying so hard to encourage people about is to not lose sight of the things they really want."

Togusa lets his hand drop. "I'm in this deep because I want to know the truth. I also want to see Retrospec pay, their responsible employees belong behind bars. But that's the job." Togusa holds his arms out in a shrug. "I definitely wouldn't ask that of everyone."

"What I want..." He stares down at his lap for a moment, quietly thinking before continuing, "Can't be accomplished in such a small place as this one city."

At least, the larger goals that led him to tracking down the place where Dante was living. In his eyes, finding out that Dante wasn't likely to challenge his place in the music world was enough.

"Any more time I spend here will just be spinning my wheels." Sure, he can go to school and practice some more, but to him that'll be all it is. It won't be a real debut, and he can't debut from such a small stage either. "That's why I have to get out as soon as possible."

Which means... he furrows his brows at the thought. If he wants to leave sooner, does that mean he has to join someone like Togusa and support them? Wasting even more time rather than spin his wheels until one of them succeeds?

A quiet smile comes to Togusa's face at Dylan's first words. There's something refreshingly honest about his statement of purpose. Recolle is a huge city, but for someone to say that no, it's too small? Dylan's wants from the world are even bigger than this place. That's a wish to be admired.

"I'll reiterate, they truly can't keep us here forever. But there are a lot of us working towards figuring this whole thing out. Who knows, they might come asking for our help again, next." An easy roll of his shoulders.

Dylan sighs. "I'll think about it. Anything else?"

He's glancing at the exit like he might just pack up and leave if Togusa plans to stay around the establishment much longer. Even if the topic did turn away from Dylan and Dante's connection.

[It's really too bad for Dylan that most of the people he'd talked to knew Dante well enough to come to him with information of his twin's existence--and presence within the city. Maybe otherwise he could've gone unnoticed a while longer.

But no--after talking with a few of them on the network and seeking out advice from Grell, Dante's come to the conclusion that he needs to confront his brother himself. Grell had at least been able to get him to wait until the following morning, but morning finds him striding into the Amagi Inn casual but well-dressed. "Excuse me," he says to the girl at the front desk, giving her a charming smile and leaning into the divider. "I don't want to cause you any trouble, but I'm looking for my twin brother here. I was supposed to meet him for breakfast, but my phone's dead and I don't remember what his room number was. Think you might be able to help me out? We're supposed to be meeting our dad, and he hasn't seen him in years, so I don't want to be late."

There's a little more flirting, a little more charm, but before she actually goes looking for the reservation her eyes flick over his shoulder and she blinks before looking back to him and smiling. "Is that him there?"

Dante turns, and for a moment his entire world freezes. He'd written this off, given up on ever meeting the other half of his family--on ever meeting his own brother. "Yeah, it is," he responds after a moment. "Thanks."

There's no escaping Dante, not right now.]

Dylan.

[It's not a question. It's been seventeen years since he's seen the other boy last, but there's no doubt in his mind.

That's him.]

[Meanwhile Dylan didn't pack a single pair of jeans when he set out for this city. He's in nice designer clothes, all in layers for the colder weather but slacks instead of jeans.

And of course he could see the surprise in the woman's eyes. So he knew why Dante had come - it wasn't just coincidence, it had been an effort. He should've been flattered, but he couldn't stop thinking about Prompto and what that conversation had made him dream about later on.

His fists ball at his side, not caring where they are - his tone is sour and bitter.]

So you did know who I was all this time.

Who you were all this time? [It's an odd way of phrasing it.] What's that supposed to mean? I only just heard about you last night.

What, you didn't expect everyone you messaged would come straight to me to let me know someone was asking questions?

That's not--!!

[He swipes a hand in front of him angrily, then balls it again, quiet in his anger.]

Of course they'd tell you, all those hooligans of yours. [He's not shocked about that.] I mean did you know my name before the other night? Did you know I existed? Sure seemed like it didn't matter.

Hooligans? [There's a raised eyebrow there; look, you can call him a hooligan if you want but people like Rosalind Lutece or Cleo or Pen? Definitely not.

The other question's the important one though.]

What're you talking about? Of course I did. It's not like Dad tried to hide the fact that we were both mistakes. Their whole marriage was. That doesn't mean it didn't matter.

[His shoulders tense visibly at being called a mistake, even if it was 'both' of them.]

So you did know. You knew for years - before ever coming to this city and finding yourself a replacement brother.

[He gestures with an angry flick of his hand at Dante.]

I expected as much from him. What excuse do you have?

[Wait. Are you fucking with him? For a moment, Dante just stares. Because this... he's gotta be shitting him.]

Are you telling me you didn't know?

OF COURSE NOT!

[He yells it loud enough that even he can't help but notice other people staring at him. He's just in enough of a foul mood he still doesn't care.]

No one ever said john dory to me! Not one word!

[And he seethes through his teeth in frustration.]

[Dante can't help but raise a hand to his face, rubbing at his temples. Way to go, Dylan, just draw everyone's attention to them. Clearly causing a scene is the best way to go about this!]

Stop yelling about it. You're gonna get people staring at us. [More than they already are. With this in mind, Dante takes several steps closer, dropping his voice to a heated whisper.]

How was I supposed to know you didn't know anything? For all I knew, you and Mom had just decided you didn't want to know anything about me.

[Heated whispers he can retaliate with just fine. Dante also gets some angry finger pointing darn close to going into Dante's chest but even Dylan's not that brazen - yet.]

You. Don't. Get. To call her that. Lie all you want, but you had the choice to come find us. I didn't. And guess what? As soon as I did know, I came here to find out what I could.

[He takes a step back and crosses his arms, clearly believing he had the moral high ground here.]

I took action. You buried me as soon as you had the chance, swapping me out for some other blonde guy who'd cut their hand with you and play swords together.

Edited 2018-01-31 02:14 (UTC)

She's my mother--I get to call her whatever I want. [Even if he'd rather not. But Dylan sure as hell doesn't get to delegate what he does or what he says!

There's a part of him that wants to fire back; does Dylan know how it feels to sit in an opera house at age thirteen, watching your mother performing an aria and just waiting for her to look up and meet your eyes, to recognize you? How it feels to have her look toward your box, and then to watch her eyes slide over you as though you aren't even there?

But moments like those seem too personal to share right now. He doesn't want to reveal that to this stranger standing across from him, these moments of weakness ending in tears and confusion. Aside from being born of the same blood, what has Dylan ever done to warrant his confidence?]

You sure have made a lot of assumptions without knowing all the facts first.

[Swapping you out would have implied knowing you before doing it.]

You'll never here me call that man 'Dad' - he doesn't deserve it, for staying out of my life. I didn't want him in it, either.

[As a result, he can't understand why Dante would call a woman he never spent any time with 'Mom.' So he shrugs a hand into the air.]

Go on and tell me something, then. Tell me that one of your friends lied to me when I asked them what you were like. You said they turned around and gave you everything I asked them about, so you should already know.

[Dylan is likewise operating on sadness masked as rage. This guy is the better twin, the one his mother wished she'd kept instead? Dylan is just looking for anecdote after anecdote to take home to her as proof that she was wrong. He's the one toeing the line, doing everything she's ever asked of him and more, all to get treated as second to this guy.]

[Dante shrugs. Okay, he'll give him what he wants.]

Prompto asked if you were talking about the wi-fi at first. Noah didn't want to have anything to do with you. Cleo threatened to break your arms.

If you think they know everything about me, you're crazy.

[Grell's words come back to him then: "I think, in a way, he's afraid of you."

"You're the one that can walk away."

He frowns and looks hard at Dylan, searching his expression for answers.]

What did you want from me? It's not that you wanted to meet me. You wouldn't have bothered with so many people if it was just that.

[Dylan looks a bit caught off-guard by being asked a direct question like that. He takes a step back, really considering what he wanted to say. He knows what he wanted, but did he want to tell Dante that? Not really. He loses all control of the situation at that point, he thinks.

So he decides to redirect a bit. His tone goes somber - because this much is true.]

Trust me, if I could have, I would've been gone already - let us go back to living separate lives.

[But he shakes his head, and looks down at his hands instinctively - because that's what he's thinking about, his composition career, even if he's not voicing it.]

I didn't expect them to tell me everything, just like I don't expect you to tell me everything. I wanted enough pieces to go on. So now I have them. You're known for that Fight Club thing. That's enough.

So you planned on coming in, digging up dirt on me, and getting out of here. Is that it?

[Almost instinctively his hand goes to his hip as he shakes his head.]

And it's not a fight club. Don't undermine the people that are learning how to defend themselves there.

[He crosses his arms across his chest and looks off to the side a bit. He speaks bitterly, but finally he's not mad at Dante specifically.]

Does it matter now? I can't leave - I tried.

[Arms still crossed, he looks back.]

I'm not undermining it - that's what other people called it when they talked to me about it. So sue me if that's what I thought it was called.

[And yet he's still avoiding answering the implicit question - the same one he alluded to while talking with Togusa. 'What now?' People are starting to notice they look identical. He doesn't want to have to answer their questions but if he's stuck here, he can't avoid them much longer. You'd think the hair color change would've helped distinguish Dante but apparently not.]

[Now it's Dante's turn to cross his arms over his chest, unconsciously mimicking Dylan's pose.]

Yeah, it matters.

[Why wouldn't it matter? "If I could have, I would've been gone already"--it sounds like Dylan doesn't want to know him, doesn't want him in his life. It's another rejection, just like every other member of their family.

But funnily, it stings less than he expects. Maybe because of Grell, her whisper at the back of his mind: No matter what he says to you... you're okay, and you're going to be okay. Even if Dylan rejects him... he's still got people around him. He's still got a family that he found, one that welcomes him with open arms any time he needs it.

Maybe Dylan's got that too.]

You're not answering my question, though. What did you come here looking for?

[He sighs. This is why he wasn't looking to have this conversation yet. He knew some things about Dante, but what he still didn't know was how much contact he'd had with Mom behind his back. He closes his eyes and looks visibly frustrated in thought as he screws his mouth up, but finally snorts a bit of air out of his nostrils before his expression relaxes. He'd made a decision.]

All my life... I grew up thinking I was an only child. Suddenly I'm not. The way I found out, I couldn't even be sure that was true.

[Because she'd been drinking.]

With any other situation, if I just wanted to hop a plane and go somewhere for a weekend, it's honestly not that big a deal.

[He looks up at Dante then, wondering if maybe he had a similar experience if 'Dad' was as big a deal as he'd seemed.]

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My familiar stranger

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Screw Photoshop for not letting me edit, so pretend he's still blonde

Re: Screw Photoshop for not letting me edit, so pretend he's still blonde

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Screw Photoshop for not letting me edit, so pretend he's still blonde

nbd!

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