and it takes, and it takes, and it takes

[acherontiastyx]

[It... definitely takes a while for the weekly after-execution note to arrive, but it does --- kind of scrawly and on ripped paper rather than nice stationery.]

EY. YO. WE GOT EFFIGIES IN THE DINING ROOM AND WE'RE GONNA BURN EM.

FOOD TOO. THE USUAL AND HOT COCOA. GOOD FOR THE SOUL. GET SOME. MAYBE TAKE IT BACK TO YOUR ROOM IF YOU HAVE TO. JUST GET SOME.

[Anyway, in the dining room, there's plenty of mugs set out, with a janky looking arrow sign pointing into the kitchen to where you can get your hot cocoa. On the table, there's Vichyssoise, a pot of green tea, and some booze. There's also a cookie tray on the floor away from the table on which to burn the Wordsmith and Kimbley effigies, which are handily placed near the food on the table.

...also if you go in the kitchen without shoes on just. Watch the northern corner. There's no kidneys, but there's a lot of broken plates there for some reason...]

Comments

[matchbreaker]

[ Elda is indeed there - she's changed out of her swimsuit she was in for the whole trial (man, that was a mess) and her hair might actually be a little bit damp still just because she allowed herself to step out before waiting for the whole huge thing to air dry.

... Ah. ]

In truth, I'm not sure I knew him at all. [ She didn't really allow herself to. ]

[neverheardofhim]

It... still feels like it would be better if I didn't write it. These things are supposed to be positive. [Mostly positive -- though he'd certainly appreciated her touch when it came to Kira's story.] If... anyone really had the chance, it'd be you or Jasper.

You're the writer of the two. [He tried once more to maintain his smile, but it fell all the same.]

We can work together, if you'd like?

[matchbreaker]

[ Her eyes hurt too much to be angry right now, or at least angry the way she usually is. Elda sighs, looking down at her hands for a moment before she rummages around in her dress to produce some sunglasses. She puts them over her face and nods. ]

Alright. Let's do it.

[ Jasper would be better. Hell, Hanyuu would probably be better. ]

Tell me, what do your believe believe happens to the souls of the dead?

[neverheardofhim]

[He waited for her to prepare herself, then held out a pen. He clutched one of his own in his hand.]

What'd he like? Was there anything he wanted to get back to?

[Her question was a little surprising, enough that he took a moment to consider it. His pen moved in circles against the paper, leaving an inky trail behind as he wrestled with his own thoughts.]

We go to the Fade, a sort of... spiritual in-between. If we've been good, the Maker, our god, accepts us to wherever he fucked off to. If not, we're cast into the Void.

Why?

[matchbreaker]

[ She takes the pen, but she doesn't put it to paper. Nor does she really answer that question about Kimbley's life or aspirations ]

Death is strange to a vampire, something at once and alien concept and a constant companion. We live far, far longer than any human as long as we keep ourselves alive. I am over two hundred, the elder in Japan is rumored by some to be twice my age. However, by the same token, it's also very easy for vampires who don't hold on to their lives to fall asleep and never wake up, to crumble into dust from being ill-fed. [ . . . ] And what's more, if you listen to the fears of the Assembly, we're a dying species. As far as any of us know, there are less than three hundred of us left, and there've been less than ten births in the last thirty years. [ This isn't about Kimbley. She's not sure why she's speaking to Varric about this - maybe it's her own uncertainty ]

Vampires were disowned by the God of the humans of Europe, and we were slaughtered as devils and demons. I'm sure some have taken up the faith of the land we live in now, but that never seemed right to me. In truth, I don't know if there is a place for us after our deaths.

[neverheardofhim]

[Just as before, Varric took a long time mulling his words over. Again, his pen danced over the page, patterns becoming slightly more complex the more he worried over the idea. He didn't have an equivalent, coudn't think to offer advice as to what his after life might have offered, let alone her own.]

[He sighed.]

You know why I write these stories? It's so the dead keep on living, in some way or another.

The kids here... Sunshine and Goldie -- they say they can't feel the spirits of those who've passed on. That... That worries me.

[matchbreaker]

Huh, her too.

[ She... ] I already talked to the bean sprout about his spirit-hunting, but there has to be something, right? Unless that note from Chiyuki was the Wrdsmith's deception to begin with.

[ She rested her chin on her palm, sort of looking around off to the left. ]

[neverheardofhim]

It could be. [Much as he wanted to believe there was something more there, and that souls like Adelina and Alani's could still be reached, it all seemed too good to be true.]

[Even more comforting was the idea that Gold might have someone to care for him wherever he wound up. Chiyuki was certain to keep him out of trouble, keep him from chasing spirit tail.]

[But the Wordsmith had been toying with them all along. What was one more inkling of deception?]

There has to be something out there. If not that then... Alani said she believed in reincarnation, right? Maybe you'll come back as an angry vampire bat?

[matchbreaker]

[ She actually laughs at that, perhaps a tiny bit forced. ] Oh come now, I'm not going to die! I'm going to live long enough to see Karin and Ren's darling little grandchildren!

[ It's... perhaps a little insensitive to say that after today, but. ]

[neverheardofhim]

Of course you are. [Varric offered her a smile, one only as forced as her laugh.] You'll have to tell me about them. Write to me through space and time and all that shit.

But first... First we need to write this.

[matchbreaker]

Alright, yes.

[ . . . ]

He'd been writing letters to a buddy named Greed. He was a fake human he'd been living with. He loved his chemistry and alchemy, and I think everyone got the impression that he didn't mind his time on the battlefield.

[neverheardofhim]

Hmm...

[The dwarf lifted his pen, tapping it against his lips, before setting it back down. When his hands moved this time, legible words came with them, producing what he hoped would prove to be a good start to the story.]

The soldier's senses slowly returned to him, a ringing in his ears seemingly chasing the darkness away. Where he'd been, what he'd dreamed -- none of it made sense. The bodies around him, tossed about willy-nilly by some sort of explosion, those did make sense, however, made his blood almost sing.]

[Lifting his pen, he glanced up at Elda.]

Good start?

[matchbreaker]

[ . . . It's odd, her short lived eulogy of Kyrie had been a short fiction she created out of spite. Her ode to Kira had been an impotent act of revenge, when her foot hadn't allowed her to threaten the man directly. This...

This is different.

Kimbley was going to kill them all, if she believed Gold and Silver (and she did) but in a way, she had also failed him. He was a flawed, broken human. In truth he probably was better off dead in the same way Kira was. But he'd been considerate and kind to her, and she'd... thrown it in his face.

No, this was an apology.

She nods at his start. And pulls out her own pen. ]

He didn't recognize the battlefield, but that didn't matter. The cause had never mattered; all that he knew was that the same charge to his blood told him that he was free. That no identity, not his country nor his dreams, could imprison him again.

[neverheardofhim]

[He glanced up at the woman, then down at her words. Maybe it was the fact that he was no longer enraged with the woman, or maybe she was just getting better. Either way, he had to admit that he was impressed with her efforts. Her prose sounded good. Better than he could have managed alone.]

As he righted himself, so too did his other, more unusual senses. Already he could piece together what was needed, could detect what could be pulled together to change the blood red tides.]

[Normally he might have finished there, but he looked to Elda now, seeing if she had any last thoughts on the matter.]

[matchbreaker]

[ Elda considers. that's a good ... it's a good ending, but she realizes no, she can add one thing. One more sentence. She hums, pulling it back and taps the pen a few more times on the table. Once she's worked out how to say it, she pens in, ]

For the man, there would be battle until the end of his days.

[ there.

... Even if Kimbley died only a few days later, that would be a more fair ending. ]

[neverheardofhim]

[After a few seconds passed, and with Elda writing nothing more, Varric pulled the piece of paper to him. He read it over twice, then nodded to himself. Picking up a second piece of paper, he transcribed it all, so that the final copy would be devoid of his earlier doodles. Once done, he passed it back to her.]

Sign it, and then go hang it up, won't you?

[matchbreaker]

[ He wrote it, shouldn't he put it up? ... But... ]

Alright, I'm on it.

[ You know what, fine. She nods to herself, signing the thing with her neat, noblewoman cursive and then stands with a bit of a groan. she's so tired at this point. But she'll make her way to the Foyer to hang it up before coming back, having done that.

... She does feel a little better for it all. ]

[neverheardofhim]

[As Elda carried about her business, Varric was left to his thoughts. He typically wasn't the apology type -- and those that did come were often too late or relatively underhanded. Maybe this was enough to have mended the gap between them, and yet...]

[If this week had proven anything, it was how important friendship was. It had apparently driven Kimbley mad, while keeping both Silver and Gold together until the very end. How was that for a blighted moral?]

[When Elda returned, his expression sobered, while his fingers toyed with one another. For a long period, he was silent, hoping only that the woman wouldn't turn him away for his efforts.]

Fang, listen, I'm... sorry. Sorry about what I said.

[matchbreaker]

[ Elda is... far, far too tired to get violently angry. But she does sort of pause when she returns, and affixes him with a cold gaze. Her eyes aren't predatory or cat-like, but they are appraising. In truth, what hat hurt the most...

Well, no need to explain it, dwell on it. Instead she looks at the man questioningly.

Apologizing, huh? ]

[neverheardofhim]

[The silence was... surprisingly intimidating. Enough so that he began to babble to fill it, thoughts spilling from his brain directly onto his tongue.]

You... were my first friend here. I should have trusted you, asked you the truth instead of assuming I knew the kind of person you were.

And... and you were right. Alani was... it was foolish to think the Wordsmith would actually follow. This game has been rigged from the start -- today only proved that.

[matchbreaker]

[ Elda's gaze falls. And after closing her eyes briefly, she reaches out to take the man's hand in both of hers. She dos make one correction though, ]

... I don't think she was foolish. It's a step I should have taken, back then - to make a choice for something great. You heard those two boys today and fish girl at the time. There're choices you have to make, even if they're wrong, because the payout is just to great, or maybe you don't have any other option.

[ She meant to leave it at that. She really did. But maybe she's just... tired. ]

Sportacus called me strong, for not acting. [ Her grip on his hand tightens ] I still don't really believe that.

[neverheardofhim]

[His hand tightened against hers, while the other lifted to sandwich one of hers against his own. It's a double-decker hand-sub, up in here. When he spoke again, his voice was hushed, fearful of being heard by the others.]

I thought about it this week. Guess that makes me a hypocrite, in the end. But I thought... I thought I could save my friend. All you guys, thinking about saving your worlds, your people... And I'm the selfish dwarf thinking about saving his friends.

[He looked up, meeting her eyes. There was a sad look in his own, and he returned the tight squeeze once over with his own rough hands.]

I think he's right. You are strong. And a hell of a lot more strong than someone like me.

[matchbreaker]

[ . . . ]

This week... [ How does she say this. ] It wouldn't be about something as high minded as that, for me. Erasing one person might be able to prevent the church from striking when it did, but turning the clock back to when I arrived here - that's only far enough to save... my husband.

[ She doesn't level a judgement one way or the other on everything else he says. Just meets his gaze, unlss h's broken it, with even eyes. And she doesn't move her hand. ]

[neverheardofhim]

Looks like we both have something we want to save. [His laugh came out tight, the smile dark. Despite his attempts at... whatever he was doing, none of his efforts reached his eyes.] Look at us, being selfish bastards together.

[Despite his words, his "judgement" of her selfishness, he didn't break her gaze. Downtrodden as he looked, there was nothing in his expression to indicate that he felt any amount of revulsion toward her admission. To do so would be, in his eyes, hypocritical.]

[matchbreaker]

Honestly, I've never even thought in such high minded concepts as that. [ She exhaled, and... ] I don't really care if it's selfish one way or another.

[ This isn't so much an admission as... just a statement. She finally squeezes his hand back, though. She had her trust - one she didn't know she had, mind you - violated by him two weeks ago. This can't be an instant fix. She doesn't totally feel comfortable now. but she is continuing to talk. ]