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

[mouflon]

It's actually kind of a problem, where I come from. If you can invent footage that's indistinguishable from the real thing, you can make "reality" whatever you want.

[ #cyberpunk dystopia problems ]

But we're getting off-topic now. The point is, if the photos we got this week are a projection, that throws the authenticity of everything else into question, too.

[bolderfell]

[He nods.]

So you agree with Birkin about that. That he's just guessing, basically.

[mouflon]

I'm pretty sure that was a clarification he got from Angel, actually. If you want to double-check, you can ask either one of them.

[bolderfell]

[He lets out a harsh breath.]

Then they died--

[At least he stops himself before he finishes the sentence. He doesn't bother amending it to something else. He just pulls his scarf up a little and looks away.]

[mouflon]

[ Oh. Yeah.

Rin hesitates, and when she answers him, there's a cautious edge to her tone. She doesn't know much of anything about... comforting people. ]

...It's like what Della said last week, and how Clarke felt about it. If what we saw is the most likely outcome, even if there's still a chance it won't come true... They still might have thought it was worth killing for.

[bolderfell]

[That's fine. He doesn't know much of anything about being comforted. Therion closes his eyes and breathes out.]

...You're right. It doesn't change much in the end. It's only that... [Uggghhh. He rubs at the inner corners of his eyes like he has a headache.] I talked to both of them this week. Anna and Rhea. Thought maybe I got somewhere with them, too. Guess it just wasn't enough.

[mouflon]

I get it, but there's no helping some people.

[ ... ]

I would talk with Fugo—with Anna, too. But I didn't this week, and definitely not after the Professor gave us our motive. And it's... It's easy for me to stand here and think, if only I'd just talked to her one more time. If only I'd tried just a little harder to convince her that her stupid GRANBELM didn't matter. But, I...

I did talk to her. I did try to show her there were other ways forward. I gave her my hand, and she didn't take it. You tried, but you can't fix what's wrong with someone when they won't let you.

[ So maybe Rin has some feelings she needs to work through, too. It's fine! ]

[bolderfell]

I know.

[He's quick to say that--maybe a little too quick--but Anna isn't just a fresh wound. She struck a blow against all those old hurts that never healed right, that had already begun to crack and bleed as this place twisted at him.

Couldn't he have said the same thing, just four weeks ago? '...Because if I didn't throw them away, they'd betray me too!' When did that change? What started it? How many hands was he given, and whose didn't he take?

After giving himself a moment, he lets out a small, wry chuckle and meets Rin's gaze again.]

Damn. Look at us. You didn't mean to get attached, either, did you? But here we are.

[mouflon]

Of course I didn't. [ She makes it sound like a stupid question, and her face colors. ] But this isn't Anna's GRANBELM. [ My Holy Grail War, she means, but everyone she's spoken to about that is already gone. ] There's no reason that trusting someone here should be like asking for a knife in the back. The only reason it is is because people keep refusing to take each other's hands.

[ ... ]

God, I sound like an idiot right now. But we've always had a better chance of getting out of here together than we did separately, and... Maybe trusting someone without caring about them is a lot to ask for.

[bolderfell]

[She does sound like an idiot, a little. At least to Therion. But he can't say anything about it, because he's been sliding into this sentimental foolishness inch by painful inch since the very first day.]

...Or trying to care without trusting. [He inclines his head. That's his own confession to ass-backwards emotional investment in the group.] This is one hell of a mess, but you're right. We've always needed to work together. Even I recognized that.

[After a moment, without fanfare, he offers his empty palm. A handshake.]

Here's to... hands, or whatever.

[mouflon]

You don't have to draw attention to how stupid it sounds...

[ She grumbles. But, still, she takes his hand. ]

[bolderfell]

[And shake.]

Nah. I've got to be me.