[identity profile] the-mr-universe.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] hh_mirror
Mr. Universe walked out of the Sorting Room and into a hallway... a rather large hallway.  "Wow... I have no idea where I am going."  He looked around, quite lost and started walking to the right, hoping to run into someone who knew where things were.

He took notice of the decor, very fitting for a medieval-style castle.  Wide halls, suits of armor, moving paintings...  wait... what... moving paintings.  He stopped in front of a wall of paintings, trying to figure out what was making them move.

Date: 2007-06-18 07:54 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] c-macaulay.livejournal.com
Camilla blinked, nonplussed. "Your past?"

Date: 2007-06-19 12:18 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] c-macaulay.livejournal.com
He'd died? If he'd said that in his Sorting, Camilla had missed it somehow. "So this is another life for you in every sense," she said. "Well, you're not alone in that. There are other resurrected persons at Hogwarts presently." Some of them more welcome than others. "When you say it seems like so much time has passed between your past and now, what do you mean, exactly, in terms of subjective time?"

Date: 2007-06-19 12:41 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] c-macaulay.livejournal.com
Sipping her martini, Camilla listened with unfeigned interest. "Was it a natural death?"

Date: 2007-06-19 02:40 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] c-macaulay.livejournal.com
Murder fazed Camilla not at all. In utter tranquility she took another drink of her martini. "What was it like?" she wanted to know.

Date: 2007-06-19 03:22 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] c-macaulay.livejournal.com
"Why, both," answered Camilla promptly, a bit surprised he should have asked for such a clarification.

Date: 2007-06-19 04:14 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] c-macaulay.livejournal.com
Camilla offered a small reassuring smile. "Most people don't remember much of it," she said. "Of being dead, I mean. I'm rather curious as to what they do remember, when they do." She wondered whether he would drink now, and if so, whether he'd find a glass first.

Date: 2007-06-19 04:47 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] c-macaulay.livejournal.com
Camilla caught the pun, intended or not, and laughed quietly. "I'm sure I couldn't say, never having been dead."

Date: 2007-06-19 05:12 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] c-macaulay.livejournal.com
Camilla leaned forward, very slightly.

"Why couldn't you?" Something unreadable in those gray eyes of hers.

Date: 2007-06-19 05:21 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] c-macaulay.livejournal.com
"I believe in Fate," Camilla said simply. "Do you?"

Date: 2007-06-19 05:48 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] c-macaulay.livejournal.com
She tossed back her golden hair, then tossed back the last of her martini. "Control's a fearsome thing," she said. "The trick is not to maintain it but to be free of it. Haven't you ever wished to live without thinking?"

Date: 2007-06-19 11:31 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] c-macaulay.livejournal.com
Setting her glass aside on the bar, Camilla eyed her interlocutor curiously. "It's precisely the rigidity of self-control that makes us want to relinquish it. Trust -- well. That is a problem. To undergo a profound loss of control -- an encounter with the divine; a birth; a death -- to undertake such a thing in the presence of others, it's easy to believe them closer to you than they really are. Trust's so fragile. I'm afraid none of my friends trust one another," she said with a sigh, leaning her elbow on the bar, and her chin on her upturned hand, the entirety of it an angle surprisingly graceful. "But I would still say that to live without thinking is quite the opposite of self-denial. It's in the dissolution of those boundaries that one is most precisely and gloriously oneself."

She'd become more like Julian than she knew.

Date: 2007-06-19 12:06 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] c-macaulay.livejournal.com
"Oh, one wouldn't give control to someone else," said Camilla, slightly taken aback. "Goodness, that would be awful. A reduplication of the misfortune in which one began, only to an even worse degree. Why would anyone want that? No one wants to be a slave; though certainly it's always best for people to know their place. No, I don't mean that at all. The idea is to become more free, not to become more bound; to become free even of the constraints of oneself, not to add another layer of constraint. May I?" She reached for the bottle and poured herself another drink.

As she poured, she was silent for a moment; then she said, "The most important bond friends share is love. It's eminently possible to love without trusting. What's more difficult is to interact under such conditions. It wears on the nerves. Do you consider your robots -- your love-bots -- to be your friends? Do you trust them?"

Date: 2007-06-19 12:43 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] c-macaulay.livejournal.com
Camilla had to laugh, just a little; no malice in the sound, a sweet throaty chuckle. "You don't see it because you haven't been taught. It's quite all right. I had a wonderful teacher. He was a terrible man, but a wonderful teacher. You're talking about control as though it's always got to be maintained by someone, whether it's the self or another, but that isn't the point at all. The point is to shed that entire framework. To shed the necessity for control, the very possibility of control. 'To slip the surly bonds of earth,' as the poem goes; not a classical poem, that one, I can't remember for the life of me where it's from. Probably a Reader's Digest or something. You read the most awful things on trains." She shrugged, and laughed again. "Of course it's not a way one can live consistently. It's only a brief respite. Eventually you come back to yourself. But once you do, you're more free than you were."

Her drink, unmixed and unadorned, did not appeal to her very strongly, but she sipped at it anyway, because it was there and because it was a drink. "It's so funny to talk about these things here, or to talk about them at all anymore. I don't imagine it's possible really to justify anything to anyone; either one understands, or one doesn't, and that's all there really is to it. People fall into place as they're meant to do." She really did believe in fate, after all.

"Your robots, now -- you can trust them perfectly, as you've said, because you made them. You own them. And you've spoken of a robot whom you loved, and whom you believed to love you. But they weren't free, were they? You were their master. Is love truly possible between owner and owned?"

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