Logs:I am utterly spent and crushed; I groan because of the tumult of my heart.

I am utterly spent and crushed; I groan because of the tumult of my heart.
Dramatis Personae Daiki, Leo
In Absentia	2020-10-23 "I think it does you and his memory both a disservice if we do not also tell that side of the story."
Location <NYC> Daiki's Apartment - Lower East Side
This fifth-story walkup is a tiny, drafty efficiency, but the interior is not as spartan as one might expect. The kitchen is well-provisioned and neatly organized, and the would-be dining area has been sacrificed in favor of a single larger sitting area centered around a sizeable chabudai in summer and kotatsu in winter. Beyond this, a folding paper screen with a sumi-e painting of a bamboo forest on it separates the common area from the sleeping area, which has a standing wardrobe and an old-fashioned writing desk as well as a cozy tatami'd nook for sleeping. The walls are adorned with several whimsically disturbing Jax Holland paintings of fantasy creatures, and a pair of plain, respectable calligraphy scrolls. The apartment smells ever so faintly of incense, though that feels like a background sort of sensation, a part of the fabric of the place against which the rich aroma of black tea blossoms in contrast. The cup that Daiki brings to Leo now is milky and sweet, faint curls of steam rising from the surface. He's dressed as usual for him, a crisp white button-down, a black vest, and black slacks. He sets the tray down on the chabudai and lowers himself to one of the cushions. "Thank you again for coming to see me, Mr. Concepcion." He wraps his long-fingered hands around his own teacup. "I know you've been through a lot these last two weeks. Have you had a chance to look over the revisions I suggested?" Leo dips his head in a nod as Daiki passes him the tea. He's folded cross-legged on a cushion in slim-fit vermilion button-down with a black mandarin collar, placket and black turn-up cuffs. charcoal twill trousers, his black slip-on boots shed by the door. His brows furrow at Daiki's thanks, brief but deep, and he sits a little bit higher, a little more stiffly. "I --" He shakes his head once. "I looked, briefly, but I -- am not sure if --" His eyes turn down to the cup, watching the steam curl up from the tea. "Do you still think this is a good time for all that?" Daiki nods his understanding and takes a slow sip of his tea. His gaze dips demurely. "I think," he says slowly, "it might be an even better time than ever." His eyes lift back up to Leo, a touch glassy behind his the lenses of his black-framed spectacles. "Please understand that I do not in any way blame you for Flicker -- for Dawson's death. But I do think that the government's treatment of you, its priorities with regards to you, are relevant to what happened." He licks his lips. "And I think it does you and his memory both a disservice if we do not also tell that side of the story." Leo's brows pull together again. He doesn't lift his eyes from the teacup, his thumb tracing lightly against its side. "I don't think..." This trails off with a small shake of his head. "They weren't after me. I mean, they didn't come for -- they just showed up and started shooting. I've heard of a -- lot of malfunctions, this one just..." He swallows, hard. "Just was worse." Daiki hums softly. "Perhaps so." He takes a delicate sip of his tea. "I am not an expert on these machines, nor do I have access to any inside knowledge on them. It is possible that this was a malfunction, that it was worse purely coincidentally." His shoulders roll back slightly. "But I do not think that necessarily squares with all that we have seen up until then. The Sentinels, too, considered you a threat by default, did they not? And they were far better designed, from a technical standpoint." He shakes his head. "I think it is worth considering that these machines' behavior toward reflects how the government has been treating you all along." "Yes, but the Sentinels never shot anyone, they just..." Leo's fingers are tightening around his cup. "The Guardians didn't attack me." Even as he says this there's a tighter numbness in his tone; it has settled into resignation with the conclusion, "they only tried to arrest me." The cup in his hands is, now, trembling noticeably. Daiki settles his cup down on the table, though he keeps his hands clasped around it. "The Sentinels were better programmed, smarter, their safety protocols likely harder to bypass." He takes a deep, steadying breath. Then another. "All of them were meant to arrest you -- the government wants you alive. But I would wager they still instruct their tin soldiers to consider any situation you're in high risk to begin with." The shaking in Leo's hands is worsening. It's only when some of the tea spills out over his fingers that he seems to notice, starting to lower it to the table but then stopping, wiping the bottom and its ring of spilled tea against his trousers. Resting it on his knee instead. His eyes are very wide, noticeably wet, still turned down though they're no longer fixed on anything. "I'm sorry," his voice is no steadier than his hands, barely above a whisper. "Do you mind if I use your restroom." Daiki's left hand twitches toward Leo, but then stays firmly curled around his teacup instead, his head dipping. "I'm sorry." His voice is extraordinarily gentle. "Yes, go ahead." He nods and gestures toward one of the two interior doors set into his walls. "Please take your time." Leo sets the cup carefully down on the table, murmuring a low thanks as he rises carefully. Slips off to the bathroom and closes the door quietly behind him. There's a distinctly muffled quality to the harsh and ragged sobs that follow, though in the small apartment they're still plenty enough audible. It takes some time before this tapers off. The water runs afterward, then quiet. By the time Leo emerges his eyes are a little redder than before, face freshly washed, his expression settled into a quiet calm. He folds himself back onto the cushion he'd been sitting on, dipping his head to Daiki. "I'm -- sorry. To keep you waiting. What was it you needed to ask me?"