[ thank you comfort lesbian for bringing back another comfort lesbian's sad dead gift. he just takes it and starts winding it around his hands like he doesn't really know what to do with it otherwise? but it's fine. the emotion is Big Grateful.]
[That's cute, Molly. She just sighs and leans against the wall, a little unsure what to do with herself, either. The emotion is a little worried.]
. . . You're very welcome. And I don't particularly want to trouble you with any nonsense of my own right now, but there are things I have to come to a decision on, so I may be forced to.
[Well now he's instantly worried too? there's like absolutely no resentment there if she's concerned about that. he sits up a bit, rubbing at his face for a second.]
Honestly sick of my own nonsense. What's the matter?
. . . Don't be angry. You clearly didn't realize, but I suspected it since Gu Yun told us about the medicine. Despair's offer was rather. . . conditional.
[She's chewing on her fingernail.]
Normally, I would reject the offer, but I think we are rather close to the end, now, and it would be good to have my mind in one piece. And Childe does exist.
[Well she just told him not to be angry but there is just a fucking wave of fear and anger at Despair who's an utter bastard and more fear! Just a lot of fucking fear!]
You think you won't be fighting your way to the front of a crowd on that one?
Of course I will be. But that doesn't mean I won't be first. It's just a matter of who gets to him first, isn't it? I can arrange things when we discuss how to subdue him to ensure it's me.
[Oh, dear. She's. . . less worried than he is, but concerned about his feelings.]
You can tell me not to. Though maybe I oughtn't say so; maybe it would be better not to ask you to decide.
[He forces himself to calm down a little? Just. Breathing for a second. It's fine.]
Look. It isn't as if I don't get it. Someone will do it if you don't. I can't even say the thought didn't cross my mind. It's basically a free pie on a fucking windowsill.
But what happens when you do it and no one else has made a move at trial, and someone who has decided they love sweet innocent Childe who's done nothing wrong and that whoever did that to him has to pay? And we can't stop them from voting. Nothing we do seems to work. It's one vote and it's over Harrow.
Who says I'll be caught? The only ones who really bother are all much more fond of me than they are of Childe.
[But more seriously.]
I think I would be able to stop them from voting, if I played my hand well. There's an Avatar power that lets one see the vote spread. I had thought to invent one that let me see who cast a particular vote - a threatened bit of blackmail on someone who would vote in secret against the group. I think it would be enough, as long as no one's emotions were heightened.
I don't know that you'll be caught, but we might panic and steer towards someone by mistake as well.
[He just.
doesn't like all the possibilities here.]
... I want you to have those fucking memories. Shite. Gu Yun could have waited for his shitty medicine. We were helping him. But-- [Just. So much turmoil?]
Yes, and depending on who it is I wouldn't be able to accept that, but I also can't die. Not voting is really the only outcome that would be tolerable.
[Molly. . . she'll reach out and touch him on his arm.]
I doubt it's more important to me to have my brain functioning on a level it has never particularly functioned at than to have Gu Yun able to see and hear and defend himself.
[She actually feels a lot of doubts and worries in general.]
[Okay. As soon as she reaches out and then says the thing about not having to do this there's just instant relief from that sort of high-pitch anxiety you don't necessarily realize you have until it's starting to drain away. Like a whistle that you hadn't heard until it stops and there's sudden silence. he really did not want her to do this. and there's another sense of relief, in that she seems to mean it when she says that, like he believes she won't actually just go off and do it anyway.]
I think I can come up with something better, if we have to. Fuck it. Don't let this place drag you into blood and muck.
[Her feelings are fairly calm about this in general.]
Stupid. You're the one who wanted me to have them back. [He's the one who cares about her memories!] I've been in the blood and muck since I was born, but - [sigh] I'd slit Childe's throat yesterday, but the idea of using him as fuel for what I personally want doesn't sit well with me.
The thanergetic principles are sound, but I don't - [There's a moment of a very, very nasty feeling here, something dark and shameful, a kind of crippling mixture of self-loathing and survivor's guilt.] - I dislike that particular form of ritual.
I don't know that I understand that distinction. [A little judgment, low level, at 'hot-blooded murder.'] I don't consider my view a rational one, particularly as I hope someone else decides to use him as fuel for something they need. I don't think it's morally better to kill someone because you're angry than to kill someone for pragmatic reasons; perhaps the opposite.
[the judgmental doesn't bother him in the slightest it seems]
Generally, I just get angry when people are actively trying to kill me or someone I care about, so I think I'll stick to my complex justifications for taking a life.
Pragmatism always ends up complicated if you ask me.
[She actually drops the whole judgmental thing because at her core she agrees with this completely.]
So. What should we do, today? Philosophical debates? Create the perfect murder plan for Childe? Talk about our feelings? Have me sit here and share more stories about my past murder plans, which you will rudely laugh at?
[The emotion is fond. They really have come such a long distance since she rambled about making her bones into soup at him because she didn't know what to do with his grief. She still doesn't know, but at least she can admit that she'd like to.]
[molly just laughs a bit, equally fond? It isn't as if he knows what to do with all of it either. he's never grieved for anything before this place. never really lost anything or anyone? so he isn't really practiced either.]
Well, okay, imagine this, he's in an empty locked room, no weapons or furniture or clothes in sight, just a puddle of water on the ground.
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I've done worse than that, believe you me.
[now he just sounds smug, gross]
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[Gross.]
. . . It's in the garden, not his room. I'll go get it for you.
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[ he will just. vibe sadly then. ]
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There you are.
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... Thanks, Harrow.
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. . . You're very welcome. And I don't particularly want to trouble you with any nonsense of my own right now, but there are things I have to come to a decision on, so I may be forced to.
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Honestly sick of my own nonsense. What's the matter?
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[She's chewing on her fingernail.]
Normally, I would reject the offer, but I think we are rather close to the end, now, and it would be good to have my mind in one piece. And Childe does exist.
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You think you won't be fighting your way to the front of a crowd on that one?
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[Oh, dear. She's. . . less worried than he is, but concerned about his feelings.]
You can tell me not to. Though maybe I oughtn't say so; maybe it would be better not to ask you to decide.
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[He forces himself to calm down a little? Just. Breathing for a second. It's fine.]
Look. It isn't as if I don't get it. Someone will do it if you don't. I can't even say the thought didn't cross my mind. It's basically a free pie on a fucking windowsill.
But what happens when you do it and no one else has made a move at trial, and someone who has decided they love sweet innocent Childe who's done nothing wrong and that whoever did that to him has to pay? And we can't stop them from voting. Nothing we do seems to work. It's one vote and it's over Harrow.
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[But more seriously.]
I think I would be able to stop them from voting, if I played my hand well. There's an Avatar power that lets one see the vote spread. I had thought to invent one that let me see who cast a particular vote - a threatened bit of blackmail on someone who would vote in secret against the group. I think it would be enough, as long as no one's emotions were heightened.
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[He just.
doesn't like all the possibilities here.]
... I want you to have those fucking memories. Shite. Gu Yun could have waited for his shitty medicine. We were helping him. But-- [Just. So much turmoil?]
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[Molly. . . she'll reach out and touch him on his arm.]
I doubt it's more important to me to have my brain functioning on a level it has never particularly functioned at than to have Gu Yun able to see and hear and defend himself.
[She actually feels a lot of doubts and worries in general.]
I don't have to do this.
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I think I can come up with something better, if we have to. Fuck it. Don't let this place drag you into blood and muck.
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Stupid. You're the one who wanted me to have them back. [He's the one who cares about her memories!] I've been in the blood and muck since I was born, but - [sigh] I'd slit Childe's throat yesterday, but the idea of using him as fuel for what I personally want doesn't sit well with me.
The thanergetic principles are sound, but I don't - [There's a moment of a very, very nasty feeling here, something dark and shameful, a kind of crippling mixture of self-loathing and survivor's guilt.] - I dislike that particular form of ritual.
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Just all feels a bit cold, doesn't it? Hot-blooded murder, that's all well and good.
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Generally, I just get angry when people are actively trying to kill me or someone I care about, so I think I'll stick to my complex justifications for taking a life.
Pragmatism always ends up complicated if you ask me.
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[She actually drops the whole judgmental thing because at her core she agrees with this completely.]
So. What should we do, today? Philosophical debates? Create the perfect murder plan for Childe? Talk about our feelings? Have me sit here and share more stories about my past murder plans, which you will rudely laugh at?
[The emotion is fond. They really have come such a long distance since she rambled about making her bones into soup at him because she didn't know what to do with his grief. She still doesn't know, but at least she can admit that she'd like to.]
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Well, okay, imagine this, he's in an empty locked room, no weapons or furniture or clothes in sight, just a puddle of water on the ground.
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[No, she's glad he laughed.]
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There's no evidence on his ass either.
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