apocalypsehowcomm | let it all burn down, burn it to the ground

[Aelwyn has always been a studious girl, it's the only reason she was ever worth anything to begin with. So when they teach her how to survive her dreams - how to wrestle control over that little hobgoblin, she jumps at the chance.

Only the worlds she creates within her dreams... aren't always pleasant.]

[When one awakens in this world, they might find themselves in the middle of a town. It looks familiar, at least most of it, like a perfect blend of Gloucester and the town that Aelwyn called home for most of her adolesence, Elmville.

Some of the people you pass might not be entirely human looking. They might be elves, or gnomes, or half orcs, or goliaths, but nobody seems to care or notice anything different. In fact, what they all seem hung up on are posters that adorn the walls, reminiscent of when the circus was in town when Aelwyn was still only eighteen.

Decorated on the posters are images of scantily clad cheerleaders, shaped in a circle around a smudge where a person should be. It announces the coming of the biggest show you have ever seen, and the biggest fire to go along with it. The Maleficar's Magnificent March of Madness, that's what it's called. Everyone is drawn to it. It arrives today.

Time passes, and sure enough, the show comes, in the form of a massive flying fortress, defended to the very last brick. Despite what was advertised, the Maleficar doesn't come down to perform. The only thing she sends down are the cheerleaders, this time having exchanged the uniform for what can only be described as sexy firefighter costumes.

Something bad is going to happen, and it's going to happen very fast. The fort doesn't descend, but it casts a colossal shadow over the town. And what's more interesting, is that the girls tour around the town and yet in any conversation they only repeat three words.

"Burn it down."

If she knows her guest particularly well, cares for their safety or doesn't want to hurt them in general, The Maleficar will send a message and will allow their guest to watch with her.

When coming face to face with her, she wears a cat mask that covers half of her face, but her lips give her away. Or they would, if on closer inspection they weren't made entirely of plastic, and shined just like that. Her expression doesn't shift as she regards her guest.]

Come to watch the fireworks?

[It's a circle of houses that seems to go on in an infinite loop of the same house over and over again. They're identical, but every name on every mailbox is different. It's quiet at first, but eventually, the dreamer finds their way to their house, with a mailbox clearly broadcasting their name.

In a long dark cloak, a cat mask covering her plastic face, The Maleficar stands next to their prey. The door is wide open, welcoming, and faintly you can hear the call of family.

The Maleficar looks, her eyes constricted to slits.]

Aren't you going to respond? Aren't you going to go home? There's a meal waiting for us.

[Caitlyn's fingers brush over the name on the mailbox, and the crest beneath with its two crossed keys. From inside, she can hear her father's laughter.]

Y-yes. [She says it softly, hesitating. Her mind is desperately trying to make sense of what's happening, working through where she is, who it is behind the cat mask. A dream? Perhaps. The mailbox says Kiramman, but her house hasn't got a mailbox.

The only way to figure out what's going on is to go inside. So she moves up the walkway and steps through the door.]

[Always inquisitive, this one. Aelwyn likes that about her. She might even be able to figure out the trick behind all the illusions of family - that it's not real and never has been of course. Good. She likes a challenge.

The Maleficar grins and follows after her, and the two of them find themselves in a spacious dining room. It's not where the door lead but it's where they were. Dreams don't always have to be logical.

The dining room is grand, fancy for all the wealth that's gone into building this home in the middle of nowhere. There are family portraits adorning the wall, though there's a conspicuous lack of Caitlyn in any of them. In fact, where Caitlyn is supposed to be is a girl with ruby red lips and doll-like features, her hair long and blonde. She's the most beautiful thing in this room. It's utterly disgusting to look at.]

Just in time. Dinner is served. [It's Caitlyn's mother who says that, and there are four places at the table. The mother and father take their seats opposite eachother. And The Maleficar takes her seat opposite Caitlynn's spot, like she's a part of the family.]

[There's a familiar aura of wealth and privilege here, but something about it is fundamentally off. The rug beneath her feet, though no doubt an expensive import, feels wrong, the scent of furniture polish and fresh flowers set in vases off-putting rather than welcoming.

When she catches sight of the portraits, she pauses, staring up at the strange girl. Caitlyn's often been told she looks exactly like her mother, albeit with a few hints of her father in her face. And she knows that's true; she has access to mirrors, after all. But this girl looks nothing like either of her parents. It's more than wrong, seeing this stranger who could never be her parents' daughter in her place. It feels like a violation. She's never been possessive; indeed, there are days when she would prefer not to be a Kiramman at all. But she loves her parents, and to see her home and her family twisted and changed, taken away and given to this stranger...

She reaches up to touch the portrait, half wondering if she brushes her fingertips against it, the oil paint will just melt away.

Her mother's voice interrupts her.

Caitlyn hesitates. She looks curiously across the table at the girl in the mask. Is this the blonde girl in the portraits? Is she a usurper, trying to steal Caitlyn's life for her own? An intruder, attempting to insert herself into the family? Or someone lost, just looking for a place to be?]

Who are you? [It's not accusatory, not yet. Merely curious.]

[The Maleficar doesn't speak, because why would she. Her parents are already so eager to jump to her defence. Caitlyn's own mother makes a gasping noise and glares at her ~~only~~ second favourite daughter.]

Really, is that any way to talk to your sister? Of course you know who she is. [There's an undercurrent of "We don't let you forget." The Maleficar only smiles. It's a hollow, cruel thing. This is all she's allowed, the delight of taking things from people. Love, mostly.

The father shakes his head as he goes about cutting servings of the food.]

You could learn a lot about how to behave from her, you know. The last thing this family needs is insolence. [The look in the Maleficar's eye is tinged with a cruel mirth, of victory, of knowing that by being in Caitlyn's life, she has robbed her of it.

He puts the food on their plates. Aelwyn has a mountain of food that she hates and doesn't want to eat - rich meat, creamy potatoes, gravy, artfully crafted salads, even a little plate full of desserts. Caitlyn meanwhile has a plate full of overcooked soggy boiled vegetables.

The Maleficar never stops looking at Caitlyn.]

Sister?

[This is quickly going from surreal to nightmarish. Caitlyn is her parents' only child and her mother's heir. Her mother would never let her forget that, even for a moment. And they would never... they would never put her second. They have their differences, she and her parents, but they love her. Even if she quarrels with her mother, even if they don't speak sometimes for days or even weeks. She knows her parents love her.

The food on her plate looks nigh inedible. She grimaces down at it in disdain before raising her eyes to her 'sister' again.]

I haven't got a sister, so who are you really? [She sees the cruelty in the eyes behind the mask, and her tone shifts accordingly. Curiosity becomes animosity. She's sure her parents will have something to say about that, but they're not in their right minds.] What do you want?

[In contrast to Caitlyn's animosity, The Maleficar only blinks in faux innocence, and looks to Caitlyn's mother instead. Like she matters. Like any of them matter. The way Caitlyn's mother's eyes reflect the Maleficar makes her want to kill her. To burn her alive for daring to remind her of her own mother.

But she'll settle for showing Caitlyn just how expendable she is. Best she know now.]

Cait, if I've done something to offend you, you know that you can tell me. I'd really rather us not be adversaries. [There's something so hollow and lonely in her eyes as she says that, and Caitlyn's mother reaches out and squeezes her shoulder in support, giving Caitlyn a stern look of reproach. The touch - the support - the expression of love if you can call it that, it's nothing. The loneliness doesn't go away.]

Yes, quite right. The servants have made a meal for you, your sister works hard to fulfill the duties that you abandoned, we've been working all day on running this cesspool and keeping the undesirables from coming inside. Honestly, you could at least show a little gratitude for all the work we do just so you can play detective. [She shakes her head, giving the stranger a strained smile as if that's more important than her second favorite. The stranger doesn't bother to return it. She could spit in her face and she knows they'll still choose her over ~~Adaine~~ Caitlyn.

It doesn't matter. She'll be dead whenever Aelwyn decides to stop playing with her food anyway.]

Edited 2022-11-03 15:32 (UTC)

[Caitlyn peers closely at the person seated across from her, trying to pick out small details in mannerisms, the color of the eyes, anything to help her identify who's behind the mask. Blue eyes, blonde hair, the accent...

Her mother's words sting. They're close enough to something she would really say that Caitlyn can't help but be reminded of all the scolding she's received for her choice of career, all the words that, over the years, built up layers of frustration and resentment until she couldn't even speak to her mother anymore. And yet, somehow it stings even more that this girl, who claims to be her sister, is being so dismissive of 'their' mother's affection. Caitlyn misses her mother dearly, she would give anything in the world to have her mother give her an approving touch or a kind smile, and this stranger is brushing them aside as though they're meaningless.]

We needn't be adversaries. I just want to know who you are. [There's something familiar about the stranger. She knows that accent.] Take off the mask.

[She sees the hurt in Caitlyn's eyes and smiles. It's so familiar, watching them tear away at the insecure one, the one with principles and standards, the one who doesn't deserve it. All while piling more and more on Aelwyn's plate.

She laughs, and it's a viciously polite laugh, behind the palm of her hand. It's not funny, though. The loneliness doesn't go away.]

Which one? There's nothing underneath them, darling. [She cocks her head.] This scene is all there is.

I could be anything under this mask and they'll still choose me. That's how parents are.

[Caitlyn's mother doesn't acknowledge what Aelwyn's just said, and instead sighs and looks at Caitlyn with the look of someone who is so tired of being angry and disappointed.]

Well, I think supper has been quite ruined. [She sets her knife and fork down and begins to stand up. Her husband sighs and does the same wordlessly.

Aelwyn remains, her eyes never leaving Caitlyn.]

Are you angry, kitten?

[Caitlyn's gaze is fixed on the stranger. She won't look at her mum and dad; she can't. Because deep down she knows that the stranger is right, that this version of her parents would choose the stranger, and she knows looking at her parents would only confirm that. It would hurt too much. So she focuses on the stranger instead, on finding answers.]

Not angry, no.

[She knows the stranger's accent because it's too like her own. She's looked into those eyes and seen something that reminded her uncomfortably of herself, of the type of person she could all too easily have been.

She's not angry, but neither does she have the patience for playing games.]

Take off the mask, Aelwyn.

[For a few moments, she's taken aback.

Well. Caitlyn is an impressive one. It's a dream, to read her within the bounds of her own seat of power is... interesting. Sharp.

Aelwyn is a liar, a cheat, a thief and a murderer, but she can show respect when it's warranted. So her hands reach her mask, and rip it off. It feels rather a lot like severing a limb, but in the dream, the pain is inconsequential.

Aelwyn Abernant looks back, a small smile on her face. It doesn't meet her eyes. Now might be the point where Caitlyn can notice that it almost never does.]

You're quite good at this, you know. I underestimated you.

[Caitlyn doesn't return the smile. Even if she felt like it, Aelwyn's smile doesn't seem like one worth returning. There's nothing warm in it.

She's not going to be distracted by Aelwyn's compliment. She knows she's good at this, and she's used to people underestimating her. So instead of responding to Aelwyn's words, she simply narrows her eyes, frowning at the other girl as she tries to figure out what's really going on and, more importantly, why.]

Why are you doing this? [She's more thinking aloud than directing the question to Aelwyn.

The portraits featuring a little blonde girl where Caitlyn should be, the extravagant meal piled onto Aelwyn's plate while Caitlyn got scraps, her parents' affections... Does Aelwyn want all this for herself, or does she simply want to take from Caitlyn? Or, perhaps, both?

Either way, Aelwyn doesn't seem to be enjoying herself very much.]

Is this really what you want?

It's what I am. [She says that with so much certainty. It's not sad, it's not cold, it's just a fact.] I take things from people.

And I needed the fear to win.

[Caitlyn did provide her with it, but not enough. Fear. She needs fear. She needs to feed. If she doesn't, Ava will continue. And then...

Well. She has a long list of people she needs to destroy.]

Nothing personal.

[Ah. So this is about feeding an Entity. It never would have occurred to Caitlyn that someone who works with ADI would try to do that. Not deliberately. Not to this degree. Which Entity is it, then? This all seems designed to twist Caitlyn's relationship with her family, to... corrupt it, destroy it. The Corruption, perhaps, or the Desolation. From what Caitlyn's read of the Entities, it could be the Lonely or the Stranger.

I take things... The Desolation?

She can't help her mind beginning to spin in an attempt to figure out which Entity is at play here, but she also knows that's not the most important thing.

It's what I am. Caitlyn grew up in the same circles she imagines Aelwyn did; the veneer of wealth and gentility barely covering the the greed, the manipulations, the backbiting; the overwhelming pressure to look and speak and behave a certain way; the recrimination for failure to conform to the narrow box in which one is expected to fit. So is what Aelwyn says about herself true? Or is it merely the box in which she's been put?

Caitlyn would very much like to say something petty and biting about Aelwyn being either a servant of the Entities or choosing the most moronic way imaginable to fight them. But instead, she bites her tongue - and, momentarily, her lower lip - and tries a different approach.]

This doesn't have to be what you are. Not if you don't want it to be.

[She hears Caitlyn's words, and it's like someone's added a feather on an already huge mountain of slights and resentments. She feels a deep hate for this world down to the rotten depths of her corrupted evil soul, and her fists clench so hard against the table that her knuckles go white.

'I just think there's another way' 'I just want to change the way you see things' 'They're all misguided' 'It's like an addiction' 'Magic shouldn't be used under any circumstances.'

She wants to kill Cait right there. To wrap her hands around the other girl's throat and do what Adaine should have done to her on that rooftop - rid herself of the parasite.

But instead.

She laughs. It's... almost fond?]

God. You even sound like her, too.

The choice has always been to be this or be the victim of their abuse. Here it's just a little more violent - where victim means being ripped apart by insects or fed to a fire god. Sorry, but I made that choice for myself when I was just a little girl. You're not going to convince me.

I'd rather burn this world to ash than let myself be helpless again.

[She scoffs.] You hurt other people to stop yourself getting hurt?

[The logic seems utterly backwards to her. The more pain and misery one inflicts, it seems to her, the more pain and misery will exist in the world, and that... well, it sounds painful and miserable.

And Aelwyn, from what she's seen at dinner, does seem pretty miserable.]

And to keep others from getting hurt. At least here, I can do that. [She looks out the window at the repetitive circle of houses, all identical, all just as empty as this one.] You really don't understand, do you? And they say I'm sheltered...

[She crosses her arms and leans back. Her eyes are sharper, evaluating. There's a fire brewing beneath, of course. She remembers why she hated to live in this family, how weak they made her feel.]

The past doesn't matter. In this world, I need to feed on fear and pain, or else I'm powerless to defend myself. Like you are. Right now.

[Caitlyn scowls. Even if she's loathe to admit it, she knows she's not as worldly as someone who's had opportunities to see more places and meet more people. But she does hate to be called sheltered.]

I get by just fine without inflicting fear and pain on others, thank you.

[There may be some nerves hiding beneath her rather terse tone. What Aelwyn's saying sounds like it could be a threat, and if Aelwyn has magic, Caitlyn's not sure what she could do to protect herself from that.

But she's also noticed that Aelwyn's smile never quite reaches her eyes, and she can't help but wonder about this scenario Aelwyn's cooked up. Caitlyn's always had her parents and Jayce, and even though they have their differences, she loves them and knows they love her. Does Aelwyn have a family at home who loves her, or were her family dinners more reminiscent of the awful affair they just suffered through? Is Aelwyn the sister left out of the family portraits?

Her eyes stray to one of the paintings hanging on the wall, and the little blonde girl who doesn't belong.]

[The painting seems to flicker into another visage the more that Caitlyn looks at it, as it becomes more of Aelwyn's dream than it is her own. There's a cat where there wasn't before, perched on the blonde girl's shoulders, and the smile that was on her face is gone, replaced by a dead eyed stare. Her dress is splattered with blood, and Caitlyn's parents have had their faces completely burnt out. Except for the eyes that aren't theirs, large and judging and cruel, with no scrap of love between them.

On the edge of the painting, there is another person, like she's been deliberately left out of frame, but her outfit - or what little is seen of it - is identical to Aelwyn's.

The cat looks at Caitlyn and winks.

Aelwyn doesn't notice. She just scoffs at Caitlyn's naive posturing. She doesn't know what she wants from this. Does she want cold dismissal? Anger? Sympathy? It's all a dream, and she knows how these go at this point. She's only been through this a few dozen times.]

Do you?

[She snaps her fingers and shatters the glass of the front window, letting the cool air into the empty house and flickering all the lights off. She smiles, satisfied. The cat's eye only grows brighter.]

I do want to help, you know. I don't expect you to believe me - nobody else does, they think I'm a monster - but I do want to save the world. It would have all been so much easier if I didn't care at all.

[The shifting painting captures Caitlyn's attention completely. Those aren't her parents in the painting anymore, she's sure of it despite their faces being gone. Are they Aelwyn's? How badly did they hurt Aelwyn to make her believe that the only way to keep herself safe was to hurt other people? She's so enraptured watching the painting change and puzzling over it she doesn't realize what Aelwyn's doing until the window shatters.

She cries out in surprise, flinging an arm up to shield her face from the flying glass.]

I believe you. [She does.] But you've chosen the worst way you could to go about it. How can you fight something when you're actively feeding it?

[She says she believes her. That's... honestly a relief. The only person she trusts to know her intentions is Mercy. The only person she loves. Her only reason for living.

Jeff might have understood, but he didn't care what happened to the world beyond the fact that he lived there. She's no better, she's sure he understands that. She's just more... single minded and obsessed with a goal that's impossible to reach. If she can pull it off, she'll be worth it. Everything she did will have been worth it.

Does Caitlyn understand? Really understand? Maybe not. But... Aelwyn, even in her state in this dream, she suspects that she wants to.]

We're feeding it either way. [She smiles.] The entities are fear. Fear is in everything. You don't put your hand against the stove because you're afraid of what'll happen when it burns you.

ADI feeds it by throwing us at it undefended. They feed it by ripping our identity away, our agency and our strengths and threatening to lock us up for continuing. Every single time we go up against them, we have nothing to fight with, but they send us anyway and tell us we have a choice. [She looks at her hands.]

Normally, I subject the other monsters that feed on people to the very same fear they think they've escaped. They're like me, so I know on an objective level that they deserve every horrible thing that happens to them. [She looks up at Caitlyn carefully. Her eyes are clouded, both by hunger and the exhausted emptiness that's followed her.] ...You're not like them. Like me.

[Our agency and our strengths... Magic? That's the only thing ADI would lock Aelwyn up for continuing. Caitlyn has no magical abilities, but if it were possible for ADI to restrict her proficiency with a gun, if they told her to do battle without one... she would feel as helpless as she imagines Aelwyn does. But when she needed to, she gave up the gun, and she's got to convince Aelwyn to make a similar sacrifice.]

We're surrounded by fear every day, you're right. And if they told me I couldn't use the skills I have to fight and threatened to lock me up for doing so anyway, I would resent them too. But avoiding touching fire isn't the same as this.

[She gestures at the empty nightmare version of her home they're sitting in.]

And your strength doesn't come from magic. Hurting people, even ones you've decided are monsters, won't make you stronger or safer. We can work together, with-- [She almost says 'with ADI,' but cuts herself off.] --the others, to fight the Entities without needing to feed them like this.

[She pauses, glances up at the painting again.]

Is that what they made you think of yourself? That you're a monster? [It's a bit of a leap to assume Aelwyn's parents are the ones who instilled that idea in her head, but the eyes in the painting, the merciless reproach in their gazes... For all her disapproval, Caitlyn's mother has never looked at her like those strangers staring down at her now from the remains of their burned faces.

It's not easy to look objectively at Aelwyn. Too much about the other girl reminds Caitlyn uncomfortably of her own upbringing. But she's sure Aelwyn isn't the monster she claims. Cynical, unscrupulous, incorrect. But not a monster.]

[She feels disappointment fill her chest. Of course. To her, it's just a skill. That's all it is to any of them. They didn't build their entire life around their skills, their entire culture isn't built around their skills.

They just see her as a human, just one with extra pointy ears. They've never seen her at her strongest. She almost wants to show Caitlyn now - how easy it would be for her to kill her. How easy it could be for her to kill Ava or Fenix or Pyre or Ren, if only she was strong enough.]

It's not my strength. It's everything. If they'd cut off my limbs, cut out my tongue, cut out my eyes, that I'd understand. I'd resent it but I'd understand.

They've stolen something much more precious than that from me. They've stolen everything that makes me me and they've reframed it as an addiction I need to be cured of. All because they're scared of us. Way more scared than they are of their enemies.

[Her hands are sizzling, smoke rising from her fingertips, and the wooden table begins to react to the heat as well.]

My parents gave me everything. They showered me with praise because I did everything right. I followed the paths they set for me, I turned on my little sister and left her as a scapegoat for my every flaw. When my mother instructed me to put a man to sleep and then cut open his chest cavity, I did it. When my master told me to murder the Elven Oracle, I sunk the entire ship she was on.

I am a monster, Caitlyn. They didn't have to tell me that for me to realize.

[After all is said and done, and the child is mangled and dead, Aelwyn is sat on a bench in front of a liquor store, just like she was after the first ordeal they all collectively went through. She doesn't want to speak to anyone, not after the things she did in her dream. The things she wants to do in reality.

The things she doesn't feel guilty about in the slightest, in a refreshing change of pace. It was so beautiful, for just a minute, to be herself. To have her power again. To be out of the orb at long last.

She's tired. So, so tired. And she has a bottle of vodka in her hands, holds it up - considers it - puts it to her lips and starts chugging. She'll stop before she passes out. Probably. Her elven constitution makes her more resistant anyway, she just wants to feel the welcoming burn.

Someone should probably stop her, though!]

Neal sees someone who looks barely legal to drink chugging vodka outside of the liquor store and almost tries to slight-of-hand the bottle out of her grip. He could probably do it, tilt it up and away in just the right angle that makes it hard for her to keep her grip. But he's learned. He's learned that things here can go badly fast, and he doesn't know who has magic and who doesn't, and he's even more aware of that fact now than he was before. Now that he can feel the... itch on his psyche of possibility. What he could do if he'd just let himself try.

Instead, he goes and buys a bottle of water, and a large jar of pickles, bringing both back with him to where she's--hopefully--stopped chugging.

"You're going to want this," he says gently, holding the water out. With his other hand, he lifts the pickles. "A friend of mine swears by pickle juice as a hangover cure, too."

I wouldn't be drinking if I wanted to be sober.

[Aelwyn takes the bottle away from her lips but shows no sign of putting it down.

Her throat is raw and her inside feel like they're on fire. Aelwyn laughs lowly, staring up at the sky.]

Don't you have something better to do?

Neal considers it, then shrugs. “Probably.”

He looks at the free space on the bench, judges there to be enough room that he can sit on one end without crowding her, and does so without asking. He’s pretty sure she’d tell him to go the hell away otherwise. He sets the pickle jar and the bottle of water down by his feet. “But I recognize you. You’re one of us.”

And you're Malcolm's boyfriend.

[She sits back against the bench, staring up at the night's sky.]

You know, back in - god, summer of last year? When the kelpies showed up? I got wasted on this bench then too.

Neal smiles at the mention of Malcolm's name, almost reflexively. He can't help himself. It's brief, though. He can manage that.

"The kelpies were right before my time," Neal admits. "I got here in September, for the first round of lullabies."

But he recalls Meredith's dream about those kelpies. The nightmare of the seal skins. "Malcolm was here then, though. How well do the two of you know each other?"

Not particularly well, I would say. But we've had mutual acquaintances.

[If she were less distant and emotionally fragile, she might even say mutual friends. Meredith, Jeff, Tim...

Well. All gone now. Probably all dead.]

September... I suppose that's a little better than arriving in October. God, I hate Halloween.

Did you kill her in your dream? The little girl behind it all? I did.

[He winces, first at the mutual acquaintances, then at the frank admission of murder. Dream murder, but still.]

No. I didn't find her. [He doesn't know if he'd have been able to attack her if he had found her. Maybe it's just as well.]

I used to like it. Halloween. But between this one and the last one, not so much.

[After a moment, he holds a hand out toward the bottle.] Mind sharing?

[She offers him the bottle wordlessly. The alcohol helps her feel less like she has to sanitize her personality, so he's getting the frank admissions of murder unfortunately.]

We never had it in my world. There was Harvest's Eve... but that was a human holiday that my parents sneered at.

Killing her felt horrible. It always feels horrible.

[He cleans the mouth of the bottle with a handkerchief, as though that will do anything for germs, before taking a swig. At least he's polite enough to then also wipe his own germs off just as ineffectually before offering it back.]

You've killed before. [Not really a question, but an invitation to talk about it if she needs to. She's the one who brought it up.]

Is that surprising? [She can't imagine it is. Although, people in other worlds are... weird about killing.] I sunk a ship. With a lot of people on board. Because I was scared.

[She takes a swig of the vodka directly, letting her mouth and throat burn.]

Have you?

[He shakes his head.] No. I've hurt people, but I've never killed anyone directly. Indirectly, yes. I have something of a body count there.

[He can say it with a mostly-neutral tone, though internally it makes him sick.]

People do a lot of things because they're scared. [It's not an offer of forgiveness or understanding, really. He's not arrogant enough any more to think either one of those things would be welcome.] People do a lot of awful things for worse reasons.

[She scoffs. It's not forgiveness but it's not something she can accept either. Worse reasons? She had no reason. That's what makes her so horrific.]

Reasons don't matter. I could come up with some ideological cause if I tried, my partner did. But I never really gave a shit, I guess. I just wanted... something.

[She smiles thinly. She's aware that she was just a kid, scared and lonely and desperate, but she still can't bring herself to forgive that kid either.]

Doesn't matter now though. We're a long way from home.

Edited 2022-12-14 21:34 (UTC)

It matters. [The why of things matter. Maybe not to anyone else, in the end, but as a part of himself--his whys have always mattered to him.

A pause, then:]

Hungry?

Another one bites the dust. I'm sure that's a sentiment we're all feeling right now, certainly nothing else. I've wanted to kill that little bitch for over a year now. If only it felt as satisfying as I hoped.

Anyway. I turned 20 last month. Not sure what to do about that - especially since I forgot about it completely. Last year it was on the same day as Monika's so I just didn't tell anyone, but she's gone, and the day is now mine I guess.

Any... suggestions? For places to go?

let it all burn down, burn it to the ground | October Catch-All

The Dreams

Citadel of Fear

The Cul-De-Sac

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cw for codependency in aelwyn's thoughts bc she's so normal

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Aftermath - (underage drinking, aelwyn's very normal mental health)

a perfect introduction.....???

Re: a perfect introduction.....???

Hope it’s okay to stick to straight prose on my end—tagging from phone so it’s easier

all good!

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Pity Party - Network