I still regret every word, that day, I never said

[matchbreaker]

[ This trial was a mess. Hard on everyone, filled with conflicting emotions, and the twists and turns in it made it unsatisfying for everyone involved. That's probably become the norm at this point though! As have the gatherings in the aftermath of them. This time around the letter comes under everyone's door fairly quickly into the evening, following only a short delay for those organizing it to get things together and console themselves enough to be presentable. ]

Come to the dining room if you want to be with people. I will have board games, cards, food, and drink. We also will be writing letters to the dead, if you want to do that around others.

- Elda, Hanyuu, and Mikazuki

[ The dining room's set up is once again fairly simple. Hanyuu broad board games, Elda brought some rpg books though she doesn't expect anything to come of it, and there are a lot of envelopes, paper, and pens from the mail room. The mail room's going to close tonight, of course, but most of the letters will probably be written privately anyway. Elda just wanted people to be sure they knew they could.

Food wise, there's grilled meat and fish, rice, cream puffs (all Hanyuu!) Mikazuki's tea (both black and green!) and Elda's ... spicy fries. Some of them are more mild! However, the mild ones are covered in sugar so uh... that's probably not better. Either way, have at ]

Comments

STORY FUCK YEAH

[matchbreaker]

[ Poking her head around his shoulder...

She sees some of the half-letters maybe but mostly she sees what he's scribbling on - ]

What's there?

[feistytrader]

Gangrel was a pretty cool thing, all things considered. He might have lost his way, but everyone does from time to time. All he needed was a few friends to pull him back on track.

I'm not good at this. What do you think?

[matchbreaker]

... Honestly, it needs a lot of work!

[ She laughs, and all but slides in the seat next to him. ]

But I'll help you.

[feistytrader]

I'm not finished yet. I'm just getting started.

[...]

I want to write his story, too. Not the person he reminds me of. So I'm gonna need your help.

[matchbreaker]

[ His story... ]

Then Silver, do you mind if I write our preamble?

[feistytrader]

Go ahead.

[He'll hand over the paper and pen.]

[matchbreaker]

The man who would be king rose from nothing. The son of a cultist, raised through the military, born again in battle and guile, that young man suffered terrible loss early in his life. He swore he would never trust, never love again. True to his word, he played every angle, used every side and every faction there was, slaying all who could stop him until the crown was on his head. That man had a grand dream: he dreamed, as all good kings do, for the salvation of his people. But the toxicity of his sins and the weight of his crown was such that dream was lost. Practical matters came to be: his people needed vengeance, and so he went to war. Those he betrayed demanded vengeance, and so he isolated himself. Those he commanded fared vengeance, and so they betrayed him.

It was into this world the man who would become Mad King was truly born.

[feistytrader]

...You're way better at this than I am.

[He'll just let Elda continue. God damn.]

[matchbreaker]

I'm simply older!

[ Huff. ]

... No, you, Silver, you have a unique perspective on the man. I've never sparred with him. They say men connect through combat. Add your own emotions on after this.

[feistytrader]

He's really passionate in combat.

[...He could do better than that, but he thinks he's making his point anyway. It's hard to put combat into words, especially when it's, well, him.]

[matchbreaker]

[ He's getting a look. ]

... More is locked in your heart than that, Silver.

It doesn't matter if it doesn't flow. We can edit it.

[feistytrader]

...Fine, fine.

[He pauses to think about it for a moment, then;]

But there's more to a man than his circumstances. Combat is a language in of itself. It's intense, and it can tell you a lot more about a person than words alone. And in Gangrel's case, it made him completely come to life. Every time he fought, even if he was distracted or upset by something else, he was eager and passionate. If you slowed down for even a moment, he'd barrel you over. And when it was over, he'd almost always look pretty satisfied with himself, win or lose, like

[That's about as far as Silver gets before the tears start welling up. He's got a straight face, but he can't exactly see what he's writing anymore, either.

Damn. This is uncool of him.]

[matchbreaker]

[ . . . Hah.

Elda reaches her hand out and she-

Pats the back of his head. ... No, he'll realize, it's not a pat. It' a scratch. A very maternal movement where she is gently scratching the back of his scalp. ]

[feistytrader]

[...He has to got to stop doing this to Elda. He's very quiet about it, at least; he's doing his best not to make it into a production and wipes at his face. Where was he again?]

And when it was over, he'd almost always look pretty satisfied with himself, win or lose, like it took him back to something simpler. Maybe even something fun.

That's all I've got.

[matchbreaker]

And that was splendid, Silver.

[ Her hand remains there, still gently scratching him. It's meant to be comforting, something that she did for Henry when he was a young boy. She doesn't know if it's merited, with Silver. But she does it all the same unless he's going to move or swat her hand off or something. ]

[feistytrader]

[Are you kidding, he's an affection starved piece of shit, he's not stopping Elda come hell or high water.]

What else?

[This is a lot longer than he usual ones.]

[matchbreaker]

[ Elda continues to scratch him with her left hand. But with her write, she makes to pen in a little finale. ]

Was the man a tyrant or a soldier? A madman or a dreamer? Ruthless or measured?

As with many men, love revealed the truth of things. The Mad King, against all odds, found a woman who would accept him for his faults, and better him for his shortcomings. He found friends and comrades once more, and his heart melted just a little more each day. And by the time that king had crowned his beloved queen, they had broken the cycle of vengeance.

And Plegia rode into its new Golden Age.

[feistytrader]

...Looks good to me.

[It reads like some kind of sappy romance novel introduction, but you know what? That's okay.]

[matchbreaker]

[ She takes her hand back, smirking. ]

Then I'll rewrite it all to on clean page.

[ And as she sets to work doing that... ]

You owe me an answer, Silver.

[feistytrader]

[...Well, first he's shoving some more of her fries in his face. They're god, they're spicy, he's hungry. But after that, well-]

I'll answer you, and I'll answer you first, but then I get to ask you a question, and you answer honestly.

Is that fair?

[matchbreaker]

Yes.

Yes, that seems acceptable.

[feistytrader]

I can completely, without a doubt, say that I consider you family. Whether or not it's selfish of me or I'm deserving is another matter.

[But as for his question for her-]

How much do you resent me for what I did?

[He doesn't see the need to clarify what he means by that; it seems rather obvious to him. There's also a clear distinction to what he says; he's not asking whether or not she resents him at all.]

[matchbreaker]

That is very selfish of you. But men, and humans, are both often quite selfish creatures.

[ Elda pauses in her copying, actually mid-way through her own part. She turns to him. There's a smile playing out a bit on her lips, but she's not particularly mirthful. It's more... charged. There's a lot of emotions running through her now, but she does have a thing or two to look out for. Look forward to, even. ]

... Ever are you near the top of my lists of suspects for a given case, until evidence proves otherwise. Though you have been steadily dropping down it with each subsequent week.

[ . . . ]

My life has been dominated by hatred, Silver. Hatred and loneliness. It is hard for me not to resent those who have wronged me. [ A beat ] ... But I do not hate you, despite it all.

[feistytrader]

...That's a lot more than I expected.

[He can't help but smile, despite the circumstances. Elda's harsh and judgmental, so even that much says a lot.]

I mean, I'm gonna suspect everyone anyway, and none of you messed up like I did, so I don't blame you.

[matchbreaker]

[ . . . She continues writing. And she: ]

I know not if we are a family. But we are a community of some sort, those twelve of us who remain.