Hesitant does not mean opposed. At the least, it is a significant omission.
[She feels like some creeps like Gluttony might try.]
There is a lot I might forgive, I think. Sometimes, people who die are assholes. But. . . [Fuck. Just bad energy.] No one forced anyone to make certain promises, or become sweet companions and confidants. Did they.
At least some of them. But in the story-- [...He struggles for a second.] The Ninth never intended to play by the win conditions at all, right? That we were going to try and find another way?
[He'll just. pull her into a hug, if she'll allow it. But he's shaking his head.]
I don't know how the story ends. My aunts are lunatic mass murderers. I'm sure how they told it was grisly.
[She goes fairly stiff, when he hugs her.]
I'll ask around, and see if anyone else has. If I hear something good, I'll tell you. If I hear something bad, should I tell you that, too? Or keep it to myself?
[There's some of the same waves of fear she had felt, but ... things cut off, when she asks that question. Then it's just a strange sort of sense of sickening nostalgia, for a conversation he's played on repeat in his head so much. Heard the voice ringing between his ears the whole time.
`You sure you don't wanna pretend for a while more?`
The same damned question, isn't it? Still, he's got the same answer, when he thinks it over.]
Best hear all of it, I think. No point in hiding now.
[You know the feeling when you're on one of those carnival rides and it hits the top of the arc and then just drops you? Neither of them do, because Molly is from a fantasy world with no roller coasters, and Harrow is from a sci-fi world with probably no amusement parks. But it's that sort of weightless feeling in your stomach when the bottom drops out.
But there's also a bit of gratitude? For telling him. That she's here.]
That's all I know, really. It said some of the dead were gone, "no way to save."
[She's a little calmer now, because so much of her fear was about having to decide what to say, and whether to lie, and whether she could keep the lie going.]
It was from Eleanor and Mahito, but - Eleanor's letters have generally been useful.
[She chews her lip a little, sighs, bleeding out a little nervous tension as she reconsiders the way to approach this, the emotional spike gone.]
I had a conversation about this, with Wrath, I think. She. . . admitted there were things that if we knew of, we might see her differently. In that conversation, I expressed skepticism about the wish granting in general, and I accused her of letting you believe something the Avatars didn't know to be possible.
She said there was no way to save the dead once they've been consumed, but also that she had never seen the indulgence desire granting method work, so it was not impossible that could still work to save the dead.
[There's hearing something, and not believing it. refusing to look it in the eye. And there's finally accepting that you might know something.
It's infinitely better to know. Or, well, it isn't. It's horrible to know. An instant searing knife between the ribs. But it'd be worse to not be told, to be lead around by the nose by all sides, wouldn't it? The Avatars keeping him in the dark to keep indulging and keep marching closer to a cliffside he didn't know was coming. The living out of some crazy desire to keep him sane and functioning. The dead so that he'd keep trying to find a way out for them for his own vested interests.
He just clings a little tighter to her. Maybe a bit childishly. Right now he feels a fucking fool and a half.]
Fucking foolish to have told me. Do they think-- Do they think telling me that Beau is gone is going to make me fight hard to try and save the souls of serial killers and cursed spirits?
[She's just generating sad and comforting feelings right back at him. And a lot of anger, still. That's still very much there. She doesn't think he's a fool. She thinks he was betrayed, badly. There's a lot she'd be able to accept as a pragmatic decision; she's lied to protect her own, too. But he didn't deserve to be treated this was and that is guiding a lot of her reaction.]
Molly. [A little gently.] I think Eleanor said so, because she realized no one had. [This one thing probably wasn't a calculation. That's not really Eleanor.] I don't know why they send it to who they do. Mine is from Douman, and they know I loathed them.
I know she did. I'm saying she should have been smarter about it, kept it from me. It was stupid not to be. I'm very fucking stubborn, I- [he's choking up a bit now. not really crying? he doesn't know if he could do that right now. he feels like gluttony when the creature had ripped out their insides.] I just wouldn't have accepted it until it was too late.
[And sickeningly he's grateful for that too. He's on his knees by now, just drowning in whatever he's managing to feel that isn't just a broiling mix of rage and grief. All the things he's never had to feel before. Hadn't wanted to. He'd been able to shrug off being told by Gluttony, had pushed the problem down the line another few days, but
she's not really in the other room, and he knew that, didn't he? foolish.
the truth always has its due. it always wants something. he doesn't know what to do with any of it, he doesn't know what to do.]
[Oh, are we going to lie on the floor despondently? We can do that. It's fine. She's not a very comfortable person to cling to, being covered in a bunch of bones, but she will sit there with him, an arm around him.
And when he asks, she pauses, letting a lot of feelings wash over her before replacing them with something calm.
Have a gentle smooch on the forehead right back, baby.]
I don't have any particular expectations of that, idiot. I think they're all ones of your own.
[But it seems like he does expect himself to be a good person.]
[it's fine he's used to the bones. and at least some of the horrible feeling of being on a ledge calms when she kisses him on the forehead - partially because it's just a reminder of ... something. His own voice telling himself to save it for later. Keep holding the pieces together for long enough to stay alive.
Fall apart some other time.
but he does have high expectations for himself. he's on Pride for a reason. Still, for the moment, he calms down. Just breathes.]
I don't know how to leave this place any better than I fucking found it.
[What the calm gives way to though is certainly an understanding as to how someone feels so angry they want to hold people by the neck and curse their brains to soup. But he hates that part of himself. Always has.]
A smoldering pile of rubble would be an improvement, I should think.
[But she's really not going to let him stay on the ledge with this.]
Molly. It's as I told you - I feel that Wrath was being at least somewhat honest about it when I spoke to her last week. She said she didn't think they could be revived, and that clearly meant. . . if they're consumed, as the Avatars intend. But she didn't know how it will work, if it's part of a wish, if we succeed at the indulgence part of it.
[She expressed a lot of cynicism about the wishes before, but - ]
Understand that we will be getting those, even if we have to fight for it. No other outcome is acceptable to me. [Just a rush of protective energy. She's not going to fucking let him go through all of this just to die.]
Everyone seems at least a little willing to lie to my face about it, don't they?
[The consumption and all. he doesn't seem that bitter as much as just thinking. is he that pathetic? Kind of sad, really. He doesn't know how to express that he cares so little about his stupid wish for a tiny bit more time now. How it barely seems to matter compared to getting to take care of what he wants to take care of. Beau and Harrow and Gu Yun and-- all his friends among the Avatars, who'd looked in his face and told him to just keep his head down and keep indulging, truth behind their teeth. How he still, stupidly, cares about their happiness.]
... I need you to tell me that even if shit goes sideways and something happens to me, you'll go somewhere else. You won't go back to that place. Don't fucking argue with me. Don't try and threaten me and say you'll only do it if I'm alive, because I need you to fucking say it, Harrow.
[She doesn't think he was suggesting she was, just pointing it out. She is a lot of things, many of them not good, but he can trust in her honesty with him.
She does want to argue with him, and there's a spike of defiance there, but. He asked so seriously, this time.]
If I have say in the matter, I won't go back. But I need assurances in return. Don't use my agreement as an excuse not to care. I need you.
[He agrees? And he loves her for that. Not her. A bit funny now, how he might have hated that particular trait of hers when this all started, how the truth is so fucking vicious and awful. Lies are sweet and easy to live with, how they don't ask anything of you beyond the surface.
This is exactly how one stupid purple teen finds a cursed notebook and gets covered in eyeballs isn't it?
He relaxes a bit at that though, not only emotionally just visibly sort of collapses a bit, relieved.]
Of course I care. [It's a reasonable thing to call him on.] I won't. I'd do anything in my power not to hurt you further. You're my family, as much as any of the Nein.
[and he's known Harrow longer than he knew any of them too, now.]
[Oh. She's beyond touched about this. Is it bad to also cry when your friend is crying for much better reasons? Probably, so she will hold back just for that, but. That just means so much to her.
Sometimes you grow up steeped in how vicious and awful the truth is every day of your life, from before you were old enough to talk, because your actual family wanted to mold you into something hard and cold, to aware of all the pain and tragedy to ever abandon your duty, a perfect martyr to save the Ninth. And then you meet people who care more than their own life about not letting you go back to that.
She knew he cared, but she didn't know it was that much. Good, then, because she would care this much whether or not it was.]
My family is rather monstrous, you know. Even as I have loved them, that is what they are, and avoiding causing me pain has not, I think, ever been a priority. So I don't really know anything about that, but I won't allow you to be hurt further, either.
[he isn't crying! he isn't crying. he's just laying despondent on the floor going through a mental breakdown. there are no tears, so it's fine probably.]
Don't know that I'd know anything about blood family. Never had one, don't really care to want one. Pick the people you want, if you're asking me.
[Sometimes it's just a clown you found on the side of the road and decided to adopt?
anyway when the depressed teen has to try and comfort you so maybe you can manage to get off the floor and not be so much of a Fucking Bummer its time to sit up. he does so.]
Right. [...] Death first to scavenging Vent Creatures.
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[She feels like some creeps like Gluttony might try.]
There is a lot I might forgive, I think. Sometimes, people who die are assholes. But. . . [Fuck. Just bad energy.] No one forced anyone to make certain promises, or become sweet companions and confidants. Did they.
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[But he's conflicted too, but he's-- there's just too many attachments, too many complications.]
... But the Eigth are just people too. Making the same sorts of mistakes the Ninth does.
[His eyes flick to the floor, and then up to Harrow.]
The hymn also compels us to keep looking.
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[A spike of bad feelings again - just waves of fear, almost to the point of nausea.]
. . . I heard some received messages from the dead this week, again. Did you get anything?
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[He'll just. pull her into a hug, if she'll allow it. But he's shaking his head.]
Nope. Haven't heard anything.
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[She goes fairly stiff, when he hugs her.]
I'll ask around, and see if anyone else has. If I hear something good, I'll tell you. If I hear something bad, should I tell you that, too? Or keep it to myself?
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`You sure you don't wanna pretend for a while more?`
The same damned question, isn't it? Still, he's got the same answer, when he thinks it over.]
Best hear all of it, I think. No point in hiding now.
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I did hear something, and it was bad. I'm sorry.
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But there's also a bit of gratitude? For telling him. That she's here.]
Go on then.
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[She's a little calmer now, because so much of her fear was about having to decide what to say, and whether to lie, and whether she could keep the lie going.]
It was from Eleanor and Mahito, but - Eleanor's letters have generally been useful.
[She chews her lip a little, sighs, bleeding out a little nervous tension as she reconsiders the way to approach this, the emotional spike gone.]
I had a conversation about this, with Wrath, I think. She. . . admitted there were things that if we knew of, we might see her differently. In that conversation, I expressed skepticism about the wish granting in general, and I accused her of letting you believe something the Avatars didn't know to be possible.
She said there was no way to save the dead once they've been consumed, but also that she had never seen the indulgence desire granting method work, so it was not impossible that could still work to save the dead.
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It's infinitely better to know. Or, well, it isn't. It's horrible to know. An instant searing knife between the ribs. But it'd be worse to not be told, to be lead around by the nose by all sides, wouldn't it? The Avatars keeping him in the dark to keep indulging and keep marching closer to a cliffside he didn't know was coming. The living out of some crazy desire to keep him sane and functioning. The dead so that he'd keep trying to find a way out for them for his own vested interests.
He just clings a little tighter to her. Maybe a bit childishly. Right now he feels a fucking fool and a half.]
Fucking foolish to have told me. Do they think-- Do they think telling me that Beau is gone is going to make me fight hard to try and save the souls of serial killers and cursed spirits?
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Molly. [A little gently.] I think Eleanor said so, because she realized no one had. [This one thing probably wasn't a calculation. That's not really Eleanor.] I don't know why they send it to who they do. Mine is from Douman, and they know I loathed them.
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[And sickeningly he's grateful for that too. He's on his knees by now, just drowning in whatever he's managing to feel that isn't just a broiling mix of rage and grief. All the things he's never had to feel before. Hadn't wanted to. He'd been able to shrug off being told by Gluttony, had pushed the problem down the line another few days, but
she's not really in the other room, and he knew that, didn't he? foolish.
the truth always has its due. it always wants something. he doesn't know what to do with any of it, he doesn't know what to do.]
How good of a person am I expected to be?
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And when he asks, she pauses, letting a lot of feelings wash over her before replacing them with something calm.
Have a gentle smooch on the forehead right back, baby.]
I don't have any particular expectations of that, idiot. I think they're all ones of your own.
[But it seems like he does expect himself to be a good person.]
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Fall apart some other time.
but he does have high expectations for himself. he's on Pride for a reason. Still, for the moment, he calms down. Just breathes.]
I don't know how to leave this place any better than I fucking found it.
[What the calm gives way to though is certainly an understanding as to how someone feels so angry they want to hold people by the neck and curse their brains to soup. But he hates that part of himself. Always has.]
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[But she's really not going to let him stay on the ledge with this.]
Molly. It's as I told you - I feel that Wrath was being at least somewhat honest about it when I spoke to her last week. She said she didn't think they could be revived, and that clearly meant. . . if they're consumed, as the Avatars intend. But she didn't know how it will work, if it's part of a wish, if we succeed at the indulgence part of it.
[She expressed a lot of cynicism about the wishes before, but - ]
Understand that we will be getting those, even if we have to fight for it. No other outcome is acceptable to me. [Just a rush of protective energy. She's not going to fucking let him go through all of this just to die.]
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[The consumption and all. he doesn't seem that bitter as much as just thinking. is he that pathetic? Kind of sad, really. He doesn't know how to express that he cares so little about his stupid wish for a tiny bit more time now. How it barely seems to matter compared to getting to take care of what he wants to take care of. Beau and Harrow and Gu Yun and-- all his friends among the Avatars, who'd looked in his face and told him to just keep his head down and keep indulging, truth behind their teeth. How he still, stupidly, cares about their happiness.]
... I need you to tell me that even if shit goes sideways and something happens to me, you'll go somewhere else. You won't go back to that place. Don't fucking argue with me. Don't try and threaten me and say you'll only do it if I'm alive, because I need you to fucking say it, Harrow.
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[She doesn't think he was suggesting she was, just pointing it out. She is a lot of things, many of them not good, but he can trust in her honesty with him.
She does want to argue with him, and there's a spike of defiance there, but. He asked so seriously, this time.]
If I have say in the matter, I won't go back. But I need assurances in return. Don't use my agreement as an excuse not to care. I need you.
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[He agrees? And he loves her for that. Not her. A bit funny now, how he might have hated that particular trait of hers when this all started, how the truth is so fucking vicious and awful. Lies are sweet and easy to live with, how they don't ask anything of you beyond the surface.
This is exactly how one stupid purple teen finds a cursed notebook and gets covered in eyeballs isn't it?
He relaxes a bit at that though, not only emotionally just visibly sort of collapses a bit, relieved.]
Of course I care. [It's a reasonable thing to call him on.] I won't. I'd do anything in my power not to hurt you further. You're my family, as much as any of the Nein.
[and he's known Harrow longer than he knew any of them too, now.]
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Sometimes you grow up steeped in how vicious and awful the truth is every day of your life, from before you were old enough to talk, because your actual family wanted to mold you into something hard and cold, to aware of all the pain and tragedy to ever abandon your duty, a perfect martyr to save the Ninth. And then you meet people who care more than their own life about not letting you go back to that.
She knew he cared, but she didn't know it was that much. Good, then, because she would care this much whether or not it was.]
My family is rather monstrous, you know. Even as I have loved them, that is what they are, and avoiding causing me pain has not, I think, ever been a priority. So I don't really know anything about that, but I won't allow you to be hurt further, either.
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Don't know that I'd know anything about blood family. Never had one, don't really care to want one. Pick the people you want, if you're asking me.
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. . . I pick you. I'd like to stay with you. Let's hold onto those hopes for a little while longer, all right?
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anyway when the depressed teen has to try and comfort you so maybe you can manage to get off the floor and not be so much of a Fucking Bummer its time to sit up. he does so.]
Right. [...] Death first to scavenging Vent Creatures.
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Agreed.