hey mom, dead mom, i need a little help here

[nothingcanstop]

[ ...All of that happened, huh. That's the sentiment each and every week, and it's no different this time. Except, this time they've lost more people than before. Five.

The gathering invitation is slipped under everyone's doors, but it specifies something a little different. ]



[ That's a good two hours or so of difference. Enough time to wander around, for sure.

But, in the garden, at the appointed time, there's a variable arrangement of fresh-cooked food. A good amount of beef stew, some Chinese hot pot, and...watermelon? Just, an absurd amount of watermelon, cut up and set on plates. All the food's set on tables that seem to have been moved from the library, and the ground is littered with blankets, for those who don't want to sit on the grass.

And yes, she did not lie. There is, indeed, a variable fuckton of alcohol. (And coffee, for our underaged.)

This has become routine. But, we're still here. We're still alive. ]

Comments

[fivestagegod]

My first conversation with her involved her throwing a box of soap at my head because I told her I wasn't interested in dying for her cause, and also that she needed to calm down or she'd paint a target on her back. ...Again, she then threw soap at me, so somehow I don't think that took too well.

The second conversation... Well, I asked her why she hadn't tried to escape by killing anyone yet, if whatever she was doing back home was so important. And apparently that crossed some major wires. She spent a while staring into middle distance and talking to herself after that one. Not entirely sure I regret having asked, but I didn't exactly know that parts of this would be the result.

[mouflon]

That... sounds like her.

I don't know if it's a good thing or a bad thing that we mostly stuck to talking magic. Birkin, when I say the picture I'm looking forward to is almost the same as hers, I'm not exaggerating. Can you imagine how weird it would be if you walked into your house and everything was he same, except every piece of furniture has been moved two inches to the left?

That's what talking about our worlds was like.

[fivestagegod]

Yeah, I believe it.

She mostly wanted to theorize about this place with me, when we talked at all. That's why I'm willing to grant her the notion that she tried.

Your head's on a lot better than hers was. I assume that's why you're still here.

[mouflon]

Trust me, I don't need someone else to tell me that. It's just—

[ whoops another fistful of grass is coming out of the ground and getting chucked at the flowers ]

It pisses me off. She was an idiot, but she wasn't stupid. But the mages in her world—they just wanted to cling to the past, instead of moving forward. She ruined herself for something completely—

Ugh, forget it! She did what she did, and it doesn't matter anymore.

[fivestagegod]

If it didn't matter, you wouldn't be pissed off about it.

[He doesn't sound like he's lecturing her, or judging her for being worked up. It is what it is.]

I didn't see myself in any of the things she was saying, but I did see a friend of mine. The one who died a couple months back, the one it hit differently for. I haven't forgiven him for running off and being a goddamn idiot. It's fine if you don't want to forgive Anna.

[mouflon]

[ She wants to say that she doesn't need to be told that, or that it isn't about forgiving her — but, maybe she does? Maybe it is. It's an odd feeling, not the same as seeing a close comrade cut down, but nothing so detached as losing a mere acquaintance. ]

It's just — she could have been better than that. Why couldn't she understand that?

[ It's... disappointing. ]