(no subject)

[architectron.livejournal.com]

What do you do when you have a structure that is beginning to break apart, that is no longer ethically or professionally sound?

You tear it down.

The barriers are breaking. I know. I'm the one who designed them.

The walls in the place aren't what they used to be, apparently don't stand up to the type of wear and tear your five fearless and crayons-in-hand leaders inflict on them. Material like this wasn't designed to handle so much abuse, let alone constant scribbling on the paint and wallpaper.

And what is that? That doesn't even look like a mountain.

There's only one solution: see paragraph [A].

Don't you all want to get home again?

[ooc: There's a reason we called this plot "The Architect." Ladies and gentlemen of the City, meet The Architect.]

Comments

[absinthe-eyed.livejournal.com]

There's nothing out there, either.

Did you design the carousel as well as the walls? And the clock?

[architectron.livejournal.com]

Stop wasting your time asking me all these things! Feet. Legs. Lungs. Run! Go!

[absinthe-eyed.livejournal.com]

Given a choice between life at home--if you can truly offer that--and an existence here, no matter how tenuous it is, I would choose to stay here. This gives me time enough.

How responsible are you for this place?

[architectron.livejournal.com]

You're a fool. You'd spit on a gift like this. Fool.

[absinthe-eyed.livejournal.com]

It's a generous gift if it's what it seems to be, and I'm not ruling out the possibility that you, for reasons beyond me, are truly offering us a way home.

Will we necessarily go to the world we came from?

[architectron.livejournal.com]

You'll go home.