Reality Check

"Reality Check" is a [SEASON NUMBER] thread written on [IRL DATE].
==Summary==
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==Full Text==
Dixie Donz starred up at the solitary house as the cold, winter wind rustled the fringes of his coat. Rhenco had been eliminated, and Dixie would not be able to lie and said he had never been worried. He knew his deliberate lack of involvement, and probably his lack of human connection had kept himself and many of his employees safe. But now that dynamic and unpredictable issue was out of the way. This allowed Dixie to focus on other things. Like why there were so many houses, just like this one, that house so many…’interesting’ people. 
Dixie was unconcerned with law. Law was a fake fabrication of morality too many exploited for their own gain. Virtue…virtue and honor was what concerned him. Both the pleasant, and unpleasant elements of it. 
He reached up to rap the door with an iron knob cane, and settled back as he waited for it to be answered.  
@central-is-growing
“Come in?” Darien’s muffled tone of voice made it clear he wasn’t expecting anyone to currently drop in on him.
Dixie tilted his head, and then stepped up to let himself inside. He opened to door easily, and softly shut it behind him. “Well you don’t lock your doors…I suppose I’ll have to give you credit for that…”
The ex-magistrate was currently at the table that constituted his desk, halfway through writing in a hand-bound book. He looked up briefly at the man entering his temporary housing and then looked down again, continuing to write. “My security on this island is nothing more than an illusion,” he said mildly. “Foolish to pretend otherwise. Did you have need of something?”
Dixie draped one hand over the other as he leaned on his cane, and Darien found that there was something about the man he recognized. It was in the steel of his eyes and the sharp features of his face. 
“Again…a certain amount of credit is due for a statement like that…” Dixie ran a tongue on the inside of his upper lip before answering. “Reassurance.” He finally said. “And realigning some perspective…”
An arm trailed sideways past the windows of the building. “Five murderers, or worse,…living cush lives in voluntary house arrest…save one. He’s in jail, after having a nice gallivant in the woods, and for only twenty years I may add, after stacking up a pile, of dead…children…” Dixie’s fingers drummed lightly on a closed hand. “Darien Whiteland…why on this good, green earth are you still alive?”
Darien slowly looked back up at Dixie, setting his pen down, and he lifted up both hands in a vague shrug, looking Dixie right in the eye as he gave a self-conscious grimace. “Ask Chief Grey,” he answered. “I answer to her for everything, now. And that includes the state of my livelihood.” He pushed the journal forward on his table to let it dry. 
“Ah yes, Chief Grey, the one who enabled all the…handling…of the enemies of the island…” He held up a finger. “Save one…which she herself savagely beat to the edge of death. Interesting that it was a personal matter when that choice was made.”
“Her leadership is near infallible. Judicial discretion though…we can disagree.” Dixie folded his hands with a calculating look. It was almost as if he were trying to figure out the answers to his own questions in that moment. “You’re a man well beyond the luxury of answering to someone else for the state that you’re in. But perhaps that issue is linked to why you chose to surrender to a rebellion known for its mercy, as apposed to the half breed camps you actually harmed.”
Darien linked his fingers together. “I didn’t choose to end up here,” he said steadily. “I was…strong-armed here, should we say.” He shrugged again. “I don’t know why you’re coming to me with complaints of her decisions. I didn’t make them.”
Dixie was still as he watched him. “How…convenient. The choices of others now sway your actions and feelings.” His eyes narrowed. “But you’re right…enough about their actions. Let’s talk about yours, or rather the lack of them. You live here instead of some box. You have that liberty and the liberty to argue against but you don’t. The generations of your slaving still live in cages in the fractions of central. But you still have books, and a house, and the means to go and live a life despite it being under scrutiny.”
“Your door is unlocked. Leave a note. Walk to the community’s that you left in destitution. They’re still being bought and traded like crops, and what’s the worse that could happen? The rebellion catches you? That turned out fine the first time.”
He held up a finger. “Of course, there was also all that experimentation you were so privy to implement against others. I’m sure the rebellions medical researcher are in short supply of bodies. That’s another option to take.” Dixie glanced around the room. “Then again…I suppose just this is nice…”
“Who would that help?” Darien tried to quash any impatience out of his words. “The people around me, especially those in authority, are welcome to decide what they can do with me, and they chose to have me help. That is what I will do for the time being.” He gestured a hand towards his closed front door, indicating the rest of the island, and even the rest of the world. “There are those out there that say I should die. There are those that say I should be tortured. There are even those who would say that death is far too kind of a punishment, and would prefer me to live in constant remembrance of what I’ve done. Nobody is right, and nobody is wrong. But giving myself the choice of my own fate, by either death or isolation or slavery, is not the next step.” He crossed his arms on the table and leaned over further, fixing Dixie with a very serious look. “You believe you are more correct than the Chief, and would prefer they tackle the factions by themselves, with no inside assistance? Because that isn’t what she wants. That moral decision is out of my hands. Why do you believe it is in yours?”
Dixie leaned forward with a curled lip. “They don’t, need, you…And you’re as arrogant as you ever were if you have even an inkling that you’re essential, or even objectively helpful to the finality of their cause.”
The air hung tense between them, and then Dixie slowly stood up without breaking gazes. 
“I don’t believe I have any moral choice over you, or even think I should have one. This was all about what you’ve done, and are doing. ‘Who would that help indeed.’ It’s a little late for you to try and put any good back into this land. You’ll never undo or even compare to the damage you’ve caused, the damage that is still being done. There is no next step for you Darien. Your situation is impossible. No amount of torture, no execution, and no pitiful, cushy attempt to do good for once in your goddamned life will make a difference. And even if everyone else on this island is soft and forgiving enough to not even properly jail you, while a man who committed far less than you rots in a cell, then so be it.”
“But you at least ought to feel the twist in your gut, for every waking minute knowing you’ll never have a next step that actually means something. Where only your natural or unnatural death will give you any semblance of peace.” He held up a finger. “Feeling that…without that pitiful, torrent, of excuses that is…”
His hand carefully reached back to take the door handle again.  
“It changes nothing.” Darien pulled his book closer again. Outwardly, he looked neutral and almost disinterested. Inwardly, his stomach was at his feet. “Choosing how I am dealt with is a pleasure I won’t allow myself. Talk to the Chief. Have us trade places, if it matters to you.”
The door opened quietly, and slowly filtered in a beam of sunlight as it swung wider. Dixie stood in silence, his eyes never wavering from Darien’s, for a few moments more, and then he turned on a heel, and walked out as casually as he came.
He left the door exposing the rest of the town, rebellion, and Aidorian open to the ex-magistrate has he departed.  
And Darien closed the door behind him, and sat back down, and continued to write.
Category:BOTGD 2
Category:Events
Category:Act II
Category:Darien Whiteland
Category:Dixie Donz