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Do you think you're safe at the farm you woke up on? We're a long way from our homes, being watched over by one of the most vengeful spirits I've met, and you dare to think there's anywhere here where we're not in danger? Do you trust every single you've come across to do the right thing?

[Noé probably isn't the most dangerous person on the island, but he did manhandle and haul Owen around like a sack of potatoes when they first met, so he has negative points in Owen's book.

Plus a little bit of realistic expectations (paranoia) is never a bad thing! Always trust your gut.]

[okay sasha calm down and eat a snickers before you start going off the deep end here]

Oi. A spirit just retaliating against someone doesn't make it vengeful, you know. [Mister "I ripped up my pamphlets despite warnings and all I got was this dead body".

...]

She's powerful. I don't think anyone on this island could do anything without her knowing about it.

Why would I want to try to doubt people around me when that's already hanging over our heads? We don't stay dead, right? And people are just... people. Not good, not bad, just people.

[...

It's quiet for a moment. He thinks of Adelis, of Van Zieks, of the ones that reacted so openly and violently to the changes around them... and he can't help but think Owen fits right in.]

...What else would I have to feel unsafe about with anyone here, unless it was the only thing I really knew?

[He wishes he had a snickers, goddamn. Chocolate and caramel and all that would be fantastic right now.]

I don't want to be included in this.

[Owen is not a people. He's a wizard, and above that he's Owen. Evil, terrifying, powerful... Those are not ways most "people" would be described, he thinks. He is something to the left of that description.]

What proof do you have that the other people here aren't dangerous? I was killed by another person living on this island, after all, so it's obviously not as safe as you want it to be.

[Checkmate, Otegine!!!]

...I... Why not? I don't have a reason to treat you any different.

[He feels like they're talking in circles now, like there's something he isn't getting, and it's driving him mad...

With a sigh, he finally pushes up to his feet, carefully turning around to finally shoot a glance towards Owen. It's open concern, of course, hearing somebody else killed him... but why not say their name? It's too weird, to be so focused on this cyclical subject and not what should be a traumatizing event.]

...Well, yeah, of course it's not. Being safe doesn't mean all the problems and danger goes away. And I don't have any proof. It's just... a feeling.

[Inconvenient as it is, and he's visibly frustrated that he can't explain it better. But he simply shrugs, taking a couple steps toward the wizard and crouching down to meet him in his prone state.]

Just because something feels safe to me doesn't mean it has to feel safe to you. I'm... not made for arguing things like that. [He gives a glance down at the ground.] I wasn't here to see what happened, but... I know the last time you died, you weren't afraid of it. You don't seem to be this time, either.

So maybe... it's just a little hard to understand why you'd care about anyone being dangerous.

Well, what if I want to be treated differently?

[What does he actually gain from that? Nothing, really. He’d be losing more then he gains, but it would put things back to the status quo he’s familiar with.

Owen will never understand why he was brought here, to this island, under these conditions. He refuses to make a promise as foolish as marriage, he doesn’t want to be liked, and all of these people who don’t know who he is and what he’s done treating him so… so…

It makes him uncomfortable. It’s just wrong. Unnatural. But he can’t figure out why it feels so awful, either.

Ugh. Stupid Goddess.]

Just because dying isn’t scary means I want to die all the time. It can get really inconvenient, especially when it takes even longer to come back now. I don’t want to be wasting time laying here talking to you when I could be doing better things.

[He wraps the jacket tighter around himself, pulling the collar over his nose and mouth.]

Dangerous things don’t like being around other dangerous things. I want to know who to look out to so I can at least die somewhere more comfortable next time. Or so I can get on their good sides, if they’re going to be useful.

[He stays quiet, wincing harshly at the pointed jab but keeping still otherwise.]

That's a cruel way to think about yourself, isn't it? Just... expecting that you're going to keep dying. If you don't like it, then why wouldn't you try to stop it?

People showing some humanity to you... shouldn't be a game you have to play.

[And it feels strange, almost hurtful, to see someone speak of themselves like some sort of monster that deserves to be killed endlessly.]

I don't get it. It's like you've just... given up.

[Owen looks up at the sky, brows scrunched together in a frown. Trying to stop it?]

Some things are like forces of nature. You can't stop them - you can only prepare for fixing what gets broken, and sometimes that's yourself.

[There had been a time where he had tried. Oz was always too dangerous to approach, only softening after meeting Arthur less then a decade ago, and Mithra was always too unpredictable and Figaro was always cruel. He had tried sucking up to Mithra, tried avoiding Oz and Figaro, tried his best to work around those he knew were more powerful then him...

But he's just as prideful as the rest of them, just as stubborn, and just as determined to carve a place for him in the permafrost of their home. Conflict was inevitable. Losing to the likes of Oz and Mithra was also inevitable, but cowardice was worse then death...

He can't just come out and say that, though.]

Humanity? People don't show me any humanity because I'm not human and I never will be, in their eyes.

[He doesn't even mean that in a metaphorical sense this time.]

I'm the evil wizard they want me to be. I'm doing them a favor by keeping it simple.

[He also definitely hasn't given up?? He's going to get the upper hand some day, and then he won't be the one dead on the ground. He just has to be patient until then and grit his teeth. Dying one thousand times doesn't matter when he'll get the last laugh.]

[He can't argue the first point, letting the silence sit thick between them.

But the rest?

What kind of world did this man live in that this was his absolute? Is he just mad? It's not something Otegine can dwell on too hard right this moment. He can't really even speak up to wanting to keep expectations to the status quo, when he's guilty of the same more often than not.

But his lips still thin as he keeps his eyes towards the ground, thinking over what to say.]

...

Nobody here knows any better, you know.

Nobody assumes you're evil unless you choose to do evil things. Nobody wants anything from you, except for some basic decency. You're surrounded by a lot of people that aren't human. Who cares that you're not one, either?

At least for a little while... why can't you just be "Owen"?

[There would probably be a more satisfactory answer to that question if Owen knew who, exactly, Owen was. There are missing pieces in his memory - or even worse, things that feel like memories but aren't quite, that catch him off guard and shake him to his core the few times they happen.

Owen, as far as he knows, is simply who is existing in this moment, and there is no way something like that can just exist. Everything has a beginning and an ending - a source and a conclusion, but Owen has neither. He has no memory of a family, of a life before the Forest of Dreams and his watch over it, only vague feelings of something wrong and a deep sense of dread that twists his heart over the strangest things like thorns around his ankles and filthy children. There's no end to his story, either, because he will always come back from things that should be impossible to come back from. He is an anomaly. An aberration. He doesn't even draw his power from spirits the same way others wizards do...

So how can he just be Owen if nobody, not even himself, knows who or what Owen is? There are only so many indisputable facts about him that there's nothing else to grasp at for an identity.

But he can't say that, because it's a feeling he doesn't fully understand, it just simmers under the surface and gets him to pause momentarily instead of immediately snapping back. He's more lost now then he has been at any point in this conversation - in this entire stay at the island so far - and this whole time he's been feeling adrift at sea with no means to get ashore.]

...I don't know. Does it even matter?

[He sounds sulky, because he's absolutely sulking right now.]

It's all a waste of time when I'm just going to be leaving when these four months are up, anyways, so why bother? There's no Owen in anyone's future.

[No Owen in anyone's future, huh.

...

It's a twisting, familiar feeling, like a reversal of the night he looked at Sadachika and wondered how he could be so at peace with just being left to vanish to time.]

...Maybe a memory will need to be good enough for now, then. Even if it isn't something the future can hold onto... I'd still like to know for the present. You can't really make a memory out of nothing at all.

[Like him someday.

...

With a huff, he gently lifts to his feet once more, stuffing his hands into his pockets. A glance is given down to the jacket, considering, before he slowly shakes his head.]

Keep it. [The night is cold, and he's done all he feels he can do here without making this situation worse.] If you still really feel you're not safe anywhere in the next couple months... would you come find me?

I know I'm not good for much... and I can't take responsibility for whatever you choose to do. But if you need a little bit of peace... you could say I was made to protect people, if they didn't mind the hassle.

[He fully expects Owen to say no. But the branch is extended, nonetheless.]

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