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bopbay2025-05-10 10:00 am
bayhelpers) wrote in bopbay2025-05-10 10:00 am
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003 ⟡ MAY TEST DRIVE
⋆✩ test drive 03 ✩⋆
The day begins like any other.
Routines, eventful scenes, and boring errands — no matter what you were in the middle of, there's a moment where everything begins to feel wrong. A searing pain tears through your body, so intense that it feels like every nerve has been struck at once. Muscles spasm, joints scream in protest, and as you double over, you find yourself clawing or clinging at anything within your reach. As your attempts to maintain composure fail you, your bones begin to twist with an agonizing force, the pain rising in a crescendo until it becomes unbearable to even breathe. Then, as quickly as it began, everything stops.
For a single, terrifying moment, there's nothing. No sight, no sound, no touch, no taste, no smell — just the weight of nothingness swallowing you whole. The absence of sensation might even be worse than the pain, leaving you adrift in a void you can't escape. Hopelessness threatens every fiber of your existence, and try as you might to fight it, your darkest thoughts begin to surface, flooding your mind in an onslaught of suffocating feelings and ideas.
In the darkness, you hear a voice.
It's faint, a gentle flashing of something warm along the edges of your mind, like sunlight itself. It's a voice, but you can't identify who or what it comes from, how it sounds, or what it means — still, you know it's directed at you. Something tugs at your heart, a powerful ache that throbs once and ripples outwards. You can feel the aches again, like fresh sores throughout your body. You feel off, like something isn't quite right, like you're not where you should be, or who you should be. But the voice continues, whispered just beyond your understanding. The sound is warm like hope, and it wraps around you, distant yet intent, before you wake up.
i. arrivals
FROM TUNNELS DEEP
The scent of must meets your nostrils, perhaps more strongly than it normally would. To open your eyes is to meet the dark — though if you're fortunate it could be that something about this new body, or perhaps the body of another, leaves some faint illumination to see by. Either way it soon becomes clear that where you are is somewhere underground. They are deep and sprawling tunnels, with corners of some unknown civilization storied away in their many carvings and ruined pottery. Portions of the cavern walls even bear the appearance of old structures and dwellings, as if the earth itself swallowed a city whole.
Trickling through the tunnels in quiet streams are tendrils of fog. It's difficult to see, but not in the least hard to feel. The mist is damp and cloying, clinging to every inch it finds on you to the point that it seems to grasp at the very soul; and the longer one lets it have its way, the worst it feels. You begin to question your body. Your mind. Your very memories — are they really yours?
Staying underground may be unwise anyway. Diglett and Dugtrio soon make themselves known to the weary arrivals here, and unlike these newcomers they have had far too long to succumb to the mist. They will attack without hesitation, and the only options are to fight or flee above ground.
The forest above unfortunately is not much better. The fog here is thick, even if some light somehow makes its way through the canopy above. What could have once been helpful landmarks become sources of dizzying misunderstanding, and the gnarled trees seem to move when no one watches. Rescuers from the city will have their work cut out for them once it becomes clear how many could be stranded out there, and time will be of the essence. The sooner that these wanderers can be brought to the clinic to be treated, the better!
ii. under the weather
RAIN RAIN, GO AWAY
The first thing anyone will notice as the month of May truly sets in, is the rain. Light or heavy, sunny or cloudy, a near constant rain pours down upon Bottlecap Bay and its surrounding areas. There's no escaping it; it pours, and it pours, and it pours ever long, until it becomes impossible to do even basic tasks outside one's dwelling without getting soaked to the bone.
While it's not unusual to receive rain at this time of the year, the amount of rain is unnatural according to the Guild Leaders. To ensure no one suffers any more than they already have, all three are quick to open their doors to these new Pokemon in their midst. Or at least, they're quick to offer other foreigner's doors. Pokemon who originated from other worlds soon find themselves with new bunkmates and housemates, and with the rain as bad as it is there’s no good way to refuse.
It's best to remain in similar company after all, and until there’s time to sort out who fits where, it’s all these newcomers have.
While it's not unusual to receive rain at this time of the year, the amount of rain is unnatural according to the Guild Leaders. To ensure no one suffers any more than they already have, all three are quick to open their doors to these new Pokemon in their midst. Or at least, they're quick to offer other foreigner's doors. Pokemon who originated from other worlds soon find themselves with new bunkmates and housemates, and with the rain as bad as it is there’s no good way to refuse.
It's best to remain in similar company after all, and until there’s time to sort out who fits where, it’s all these newcomers have.
THE WATER CYCLE
While Pokemon begin to settle into their new lives at Bottlecap Bay, the rain continues to fall. On some days it’s harder — hard enough to bring sheets thick enough to blot vision, sharp enough to leave unprotected pelts stinging for minutes after retreating inside. Thunder booms, and lightning flashes, a clear message to all within the city when they see it. These storms are bad. Dangerous. And the danger is in more than just the weather itself.
At first the signs are subtle. Those same symptoms from the forest can be felt, lasting only as long as a Pokemon is damp from the downpour outside. Even the gentle drizzle causes absent thoughts, an empty mind staring into the distant grey skies as you forget.
Staring longer still, as you remember. But is what you're remembering actually yours? Something about the concentration of forest mist in the form of raindrops changes the effects as the days go by. The body and mind rebel against what it knows doesn't belong, and it finally comes bursting out with a shout! Those memories you've seen, they aren't yours! They're someone else's!
And the world needs to hear it!
At first the signs are subtle. Those same symptoms from the forest can be felt, lasting only as long as a Pokemon is damp from the downpour outside. Even the gentle drizzle causes absent thoughts, an empty mind staring into the distant grey skies as you forget.
Staring longer still, as you remember. But is what you're remembering actually yours? Something about the concentration of forest mist in the form of raindrops changes the effects as the days go by. The body and mind rebel against what it knows doesn't belong, and it finally comes bursting out with a shout! Those memories you've seen, they aren't yours! They're someone else's!
And the world needs to hear it!
iii. the archives
RECORDS KEEPING
The longer the rainfall persists, the more clear it is that staying outside is unwise. Not only is it dangerous to non-water type Pokemon's health for the most part, but the full scope of side effects only increase the risks. After one too many shouting matches caused by vitriolic memories, Polteageist offers a simple but beneficial solution. The doors of the archives are opened up, as senior members in the Lum Guild offer up their time as temporary librarians.
Polteageist's solution is as follows; instead of training their bodies out in the rain, everyone will be training their brains. There have been many questions raised over the last number of weeks, and now is the time for everyone to investigate the mysteries. Entering the Archives means entering a building of clear splendor, filled with couches and beanbags for sitting and beautiful flowers and plants to accentuate the green hues within the halls. The shelves are well stocked with records kept on stone tablets, and the additional guides within the guild are eager to help everyone find what they're looking for.
The illustrious leader of the Lum Berries is well aware however, that not everyone is willing to spend all their time reading. As it would be counterproductive to expect anyone to sit twiddling their thumbs (or tails, or ears) he has thus arranged for a few of the archive meeting rooms to host additional activities. They are simple things; there's classes on recording writings properly in clay before firing, minor history lessons where newly arrived Pokemon can share in what many others already know, and even community building exercises. They're nothing like the escape rooms organized during the last two months, but they're good for passing the time.
And eventually, the rain will hopefully calm down. A few skilled Psychic Pokemon are offering their services to keep others dry until then however, at least so that everyone can get home safely.
Polteageist's solution is as follows; instead of training their bodies out in the rain, everyone will be training their brains. There have been many questions raised over the last number of weeks, and now is the time for everyone to investigate the mysteries. Entering the Archives means entering a building of clear splendor, filled with couches and beanbags for sitting and beautiful flowers and plants to accentuate the green hues within the halls. The shelves are well stocked with records kept on stone tablets, and the additional guides within the guild are eager to help everyone find what they're looking for.
The illustrious leader of the Lum Berries is well aware however, that not everyone is willing to spend all their time reading. As it would be counterproductive to expect anyone to sit twiddling their thumbs (or tails, or ears) he has thus arranged for a few of the archive meeting rooms to host additional activities. They are simple things; there's classes on recording writings properly in clay before firing, minor history lessons where newly arrived Pokemon can share in what many others already know, and even community building exercises. They're nothing like the escape rooms organized during the last two months, but they're good for passing the time.
And eventually, the rain will hopefully calm down. A few skilled Psychic Pokemon are offering their services to keep others dry until then however, at least so that everyone can get home safely.
✩ OOC NOTES.
⟡ TDM CWS: body horror, disorientation, hallucinations, dysphoria
⟡ TDMs are game canon and act as events for the month they are posted.
⟡ New characters can link to their top level beneath the NEWBIE DIRECTORY
⟡ All new arrivals are not assigned to any one guild. However, if they participate in the Archive's bonding activities, they may receive a unique reward.
⟡ Remember that at least one thread for your application must come from the TDM! There is no comment minimum, but we will be looking for engagement, as well as for players and characters who take the time to delve into things like character thoughts, emotions, morality, and other deep themes. Take this time to engage with the setting as you would in game!
⟡ As a reminder, reserves and applications are permanently opened. Please see their respective pages for details on processing time.
⟡ Have any questions related to the TDM? Ask here! If your question is more general for the game, please make sure to direct it to the FAQ page instead. Thank you, and happy threading!
⟡ TDMs are game canon and act as events for the month they are posted.
⟡ New characters can link to their top level beneath the NEWBIE DIRECTORY
⟡ All new arrivals are not assigned to any one guild. However, if they participate in the Archive's bonding activities, they may receive a unique reward.
⟡ Remember that at least one thread for your application must come from the TDM! There is no comment minimum, but we will be looking for engagement, as well as for players and characters who take the time to delve into things like character thoughts, emotions, morality, and other deep themes. Take this time to engage with the setting as you would in game!
⟡ As a reminder, reserves and applications are permanently opened. Please see their respective pages for details on processing time.
⟡ Have any questions related to the TDM? Ask here! If your question is more general for the game, please make sure to direct it to the FAQ page instead. Thank you, and happy threading!
sif: absolutely misses the double-dead. that's just slang for normal extra super dead right
[For a moment Siffrin burns with jealousy, but - honestly they're too soggy to be mad at someone who they've never even met and who isn't actually here. Their tail twitches once, and then they deflate fast enough that there might or might not even be time for Shoka to notice.]
...I didn't want them to know. That we always all died at the end. [They knew, and that sure didn't stop them from dying! It wasn't like everyone just wasn't trying hard enough, or there was some trick they could've used... Sif tried so many tricks, early on. The King was simply too strong.]
If they didn't find out - I mean, they were all still stressed, and nervous. But... [But that's different from knowing you're walking to your death, right? Let their last few hours at least not be that.]
[...it doesn't seem like Siffrin's lying. But it also really doesn't explain why they outright panicked at the idea, does it?]
yeah man. don't worry about it
[Maybe the chances of that were slim, but they were in a truly desperate situation. And yet she has no memory of Siffrin even trying that.]
I mean... You were all alone out there.
[Eventually, their team didn't feel much like a team, or even like real people at all. Just static dolls reciting the same lines over and over.
She wonders if Rindo ever saw them like that, in the longer Replays. There were times he did interrupt them, after all, to cut short dialogue he'd already heard who knows how many times. Sometimes he chose not to mention that he'd already turned back time at all.
Regardless, she can't imagine that he did. She also wonders, sometimes, how many times he'd talked to her before that fight with Ayano—how many horrible things she'd said to him in the timelines that failed and how many horrible ways she'd gotten them all erased. None of that must have mattered to him, because he still kept talking to her anyway.]
no subject
[And! Haha! They have proof! Isn't that wonderful?? Because the time their friends did notice Siffrin was off, was hiding something, something terrible did happen. They crumbled like something rotten, and -]
[And now they're here. So.]
[...]
[Either way:] ...it doesn't matter anymore. It's too late.
[They don't want to talk about this anymore.]
[The urge to get away from this subject is what pressures them to ask a question they were hesitating over:] You drowned, in one of your loops...?
[It must have been a loop, they're assuming, since she's alive - though they have no idea how she remembers. But that's not really the part that's bothering them most about that memory, even with it already fuzzy.]
no subject
She seems to be about to say something—only for Siffrin to change the subject before she can. That's fine; she won't push it (at least not yet).]
Huh? Oh... [So that's what they saw? Her voice is casual, detached.] Yeah, but no. That happened before all the time travel stuff. I was already long dead by that point.
no subject
You were already what.
[This, of all things, is what gets Siffrin to look back up at Shoka. You'd think this wouldn't be shocking to someone who died that many times, but it's not like any of those stuck.]
[And Shoka's alive now?? Or... no, hang on, she is a Ghost Pokemon...]
no subject
[Being a Reaper or a Player isn't exactly the same thing, but it's the simplest way to describe it. If she still had a mouth, she'd be giving Siffrin a wry smile right now.]
So... I died. But somebody decided to bring me back, so I kept going. Not alive, technically, but...
[Something like it.]
no subject
[Awful? Scary? Terrible? They don't know what to say, especially with the other feelings clinging to that memory.]
...lonely. [Yeah. It might not be exactly right, but it's what it felt like to them.]
But someone decided to bring you back...? [Like, with a wish?]
no subject
Being dead wasn't so bad. Less lonely than being stuck on repeat and not being able to tell anyone about it... [Less lonely than being alive had been for her, too.] It's not like I was the only dead girl invited to the party. And I even kinda liked it at first. Some of the things I could do... They were pretty sick, honestly.
[Telewarping, summoning Noise, using psychs—they all made her feel powerful, for once in her not-life. Also for the first time, she hadn't been alone. She'd had Shiba, Ayano, Susukichi, Kaie—fellow "ghosts", people who understood and looked out for her. Friends; a family, maybe. But then...
But then things had changed. They changed, even though Reapers weren't supposed to be designed for that. In the end, she supposes she did wind up alone again.]
... Yeah. No clue why they picked me, but... There was this game they had me play. For the deceased only.
[She wonders, though not with much seriousness. If Siffrin doesn't know why all the repeating happened to them, could someone have been just playing with them, too? Testing them, like Shinjuku's Composer was her?]
no subject
[What would they even say? That they know what that feels like? Sure, kind of, maybe. Aimless, empty, looking for any reason to keep going, anyone who would remember them. But they didn't entirely know what they were missing until they had it, and then the loops happened, and it was gone again -]
[...so, how much worse must it have been to be Shoka, an actual person put together of pieces she could remember, and to know what she was lacking the whole time? It has to have been harder to bear. It's what made them crumble.]
[And how are they supposed to even say any of that?? The words would never come out.]
[They shut their mouth. And
wishlong for their hat again, to hide behind.][...but it feels lonely, too, to be brought back by someone just to play a game. Siffrin's tail twitches. Finally, hesitantly, they ask:] ...was the game for anything? [It must have been, right, some purpose. To go out of your way to bring in ghosts for it.]
no subject
She has to answer regardless; she's the one who wanted to talk, after all.
For the Higher Plane, the Game is for something else, but...]
For the Players... a second chance. The grand prize of the Reapers' Game is resurrection. Losing gets you erased for good, but if you win, you can go right back to being alive, just like nothing ever happened. But I didn't want that, so...
[So she can't say why she of all people was picked to be a Player, when she didn't even want her first chance.]
Guess I just played for the hell of it. It was fun enough, and I guess I did pretty well or something, 'cause I got to stick around with the departed instead. Help keep the Game going. [And then Shiba... And then Rindo...] But... To be honest, I would've been fine with being erased.
[She speaks plainly, frank and unemotional. None of this is a secret, and she's said it all before—but only to Rindo. Inwardly, it does feel strange—surreal, too vulnerable—telling it to Siffrin. Like exposing her throat for slicing; like letting her disguise slip. It isn't like her to be so forthcoming. She's oversharing and she barely knows them, really... And yet she's been in their memories, thoughts, feelings—and they've been in hers, too. They're hardly strangers now.
Anyway, she has to say all of this, because:]
... You know what I mean. I mean... you really know. Don't you?
[1/2]
[Instead - there's an instinctive burst of terror, a mix of that same discomfort with vulnerability that Shoka's struggling with herself and the deeply carved habit, through thousands of loops, of 'no, no, they can't know anything's wrong!' It feels like it's coming from the primitive animal portion of their brain; they don't even think before they're stammering out a,] N-no, I don't, I don't know what you're -
[They snap their mouth shut.]
[2/2]
[And, anyway. If she saw their memories too, she might as well already know.]
I...
[They can't say it.]
[But they nod, unable to meet Shoka's eyes.
Siffrin, worse at talking about their feelings than a literal teenager,][It doesn't feel like enough. Can they make themself say something honest, for once in their life? Ha... haha...]
[. . . . .]
If... if I weren't so scared that if I died, I'd loop back again, I...
[...nope! That's it! That's all they can manage!]
[But. They really are so illogically utterly terrified that they'll loop back, even here, that it'll all start happening again, and they - they can't, not again, they can't. It's the kind of dread that your mind refuses to look at directly, skidding off focusing on the thought like slipping on black ice, heart racing. So many times worse than the fear of people knowing. No matter how easily they're tempted into disregarding self-preservation, how badly they don't want to exist... staying alive is less awful than risking that deliberately.]
[Their shoulders are hunched right up around their ears, at this point.]
...do you. Do you still feel that way, here...?
no subject
Happy definitely isn't the right word. Seen, maybe? A little less alone?]
... Yeah. I get it. Guess I only got a little taste of what it was like, but... I get it. [A shudder passes through her. She doesn't want to think about it either.] It... really sucked. And you shouldn't... have to know what that feels like.
[I get it feels like such a feeble thing to say to an admission of that weight. But it's all she can think to say, and all she really wanted to hear herself.
A brief silence, then, before Siffrin's question. Shoka hesitates for a moment—but she can keep talking. If it's an even exchange, that makes it easier, doesn't it? If Siffrin can admit that much to her, then she can also fire back...]
I don't have any plans to tap out early, if that's what you're thinking. [But she hadn't planned on tapping out early the time that she did, either. She was just messing around at first, thinking of the burn, ruining her pretty dress, and the fleeting satisfaction of rebellion, and then...] Don't know how I'd even do it anyway, now that I'm like this.
[Judging by the soft laugh she gives, this is a weak attempt at humor. She may not be a Reaper or a Player anymore, but she is a Ghost-type, with a body that still makes no sense to her. Does she have lungs to fill with water, or even a heartbeat to stop? She thought she could feel one in the Northern Forest, beating in unison with those of her teammates and the pulse of the forest itself—but she was also tired, and her head was swimming. She could have just been imagining things.
She holds her hands out before her, to show their indistinct, barely corporeal shapes. They're fuzzy at the edges, tiny, black, dust-like particles floating at their outline. It reminds her of the dust people broke down into when they were erased, makes her think that her form is always teetering on the edge of nonexistence.]
But... Yeah. I do. It's not—that I want to bail out or anything, really. But if something happened to me... I just wouldn't be too torn up about it. Not a huge loss, y'know? I've made my peace.
[It would be a long time coming, and so much easier. She misses Shibuya, and FanGO, and all her loser friends. Closing her claws, she searches herself for a moment—then continues, haltingly:]
But not... all the time? This place isn't all bad. I've... got people here. Or—Pokémon, I guess, hah. And I get to battle and do my crappy sewing projects and everything. Sometimes I think... maybe I wouldn't mind sticking around.
[Siffrin's struggling, too, and they're also stuck here. She likes them—understands them, at least a little—and thinks that maybe they could be one of her people, too. She can't just let them think there's no hope to be found here. She still has a stupid hat she has to make for them.
Still, the fact of the matter is that she's been feeling that way more often recently. She hasn't been very kind to her maybe-friends lately, A.B.A being gone has reminded her that people never stay with her for very long, and now she's stuck under an awning hiding out from rain that can make her forget who she is and live through every terrible experience every other Pokémon around has been through.]
... Today's probably a bad example though, huh...?
no subject
[It doesn't really fix anything, they still feel like garbage, but they're also less tense and panicked. And they still really don't like that Shoka can say, "I get it," to any of that, but... it means something. They keep saying things and thinking about being lonely, and they're a little less that, now.]
[It's - complicated. Before they remembered the time loops, that would've helped so, so much. But before the time loops they weren't actively wanting to be dead, either; they had days where it felt exhausting and isolating to keep going, sure, but the worst they got was struggling to get out of bed. And then they met their friends, and it was better, until they failed them so badly -]
[There's such a mess of self-loathing inside their head. Being less lonely, this place not being all bad, the fact that there's people here who remember them well enough to be worried when they vanish... it isn't quite enough anymore.]
[Still.]
...well, I'm glad you're sticking around. [They can say that honestly.]
[For now, maybe their reason for sticking around too... can be to make sure Shoka feels like that less of the time? Finds more people to spend time with, and more things to do? She deserves that, they think.]
[Haha, as if they're not practically guaranteed to screw that up just like - no, don't think about it.]
...yeah. This week hasn't been great. [This entire month, really! But the rain sure got exponentially worse this week.]
[Hesitantly, they shift over a little bit, pressing their side against Shoka's. They're kind of tense and awkward about it, but they're trying.]
no subject
Pfft... You better be. You're getting a new hat outta the deal...
[Siffrin shuffles closer to her then, damp fur against damp cloth. Shoka stiffens at first, tense and awkward herself—but only for a moment before she leans against them in kind.]
... Thanks. I'm—glad you're here, too. This week's completely sucked, but—hanging out with you doesn't. [She hesitates before she adds,] And I'm glad... we're talking like this. Screwed-up as that is... Never met anyone who—I mean, you're the only one I've talked to that—...
[Understands? Knows, at least a little, what it's like? Still, it feels like she's missed something. Maybe she hasn't really understood them at all.
She trails off—then abruptly shifts the subject.]
Maybe it doesn't matter anymore. But if I were on your team... I would've wanted you to tell me what was going on with you. Even if—you think it would've messed me up. Or if I couldn't do much about it...
[Where is she even going with this?]
... Maybe that doesn't help. My bad. Just—... If you could. Keep talking to me. I wouldn't... mind it.
[She wants it, really, even if it isn't her place. Even if she's lousy at this.
Her mind wanders. That last memory she saw... Was it theirs? Would they talk about it, too?]
no subject
[...Shoka feels just as awkward about this as they do, doesn't she? She's trying to get through it with a lot more words than they usually do, but... hm.]
[If they would just talk to her...]
[They feel like they've forgotten something.]
[But, it sounds like it helped her too?]
[...]
[. . .]
I'm... not very good, at talking. [Big surprise! But admitting that aloud feels like it has weight, in a way kind of adjacent to the things they've already said. They feel like they couldn't admit it to themself half the time, at least until they were very deep into the time loops.] But I can try?
no subject
[But she's trying—even if it's taken a supernatural memory-rain to pry her open and make her willing to be this vulnerable. She feels exposed, a little sick, and definitely drained... But she can't bring herself to regret it, really. It feels—good, almost, being side-by-side with Siffrin and letting them half-support her weight while she supports theirs. Even though they're both still soaking wet. Cathartic, maybe.
Still, Siffrin's bad at it in a different way than she is. Those times that she does convince herself to talk, Shoka tends to speak frankly and bluntly, but Siffrin can hardly get a full sentence out.
It might be a case of the blind leading the blind, then, but it feels like a start. She'd be happy if they tried.]
Good enough for me.
[A brief silence weaves its way between them, then. Shoka seems lost in thought.
She didn't intend to hold them to that promise so soon, but:]
... Hey. You said... that you couldn't make all the Replays—loops, whatever... You only got out by coming here, right?
no subject
...yeah. If there was a way out - besides ending up here, I guess...
I must have screwed it up somehow.
[They were so sure it defeating the King would end it. Why else would there be a time loop at all? And yet...]
no subject
[Trying to recall it now makes her head hurt. Her memory glances off the details, rendering them indistinct, dizzying smears in her mind. She squints, as if that could help her see them better, and holds her hands out before her, claws curling around an invisible column.]
I was... [You were, she thinks to correct—but she doesn't even really know if it was Siffrin at all, does she?] ... Trying to kill someone. Choke 'em out. And I'm pretty sure it wasn't the King.
[For a number of reasons, even if she could hardly see anything.]
But I—couldn't go through with it. I just kept... apologizing instead. [Her voice wavers. Those emotions aren't her own, nothing more than invaders implanted in her head—but trying to force herself to remember makes them resurface in her nonetheless.] And then I was saying...
[... What was it again?]
no subject
[But they...] I - I don't remember. Anything like that.
[Surely they wouldn't have forgotten trying to strangle someone, would th - okay no let's be honest, with their memory, and their track record here, they totally could have. Regrettably. But when would that have happened? Who could they have been trying to kill, besides the King?]
[Because they agree - there's absolutely no way it could be the King. They wouldn't have been apologizing.]
[They're telling the truth, though. They don't remember this at all! (But why does it feel like there are words on the tip of their tongue...)]
...maybe I've been out in the rain and fog too much. [They're trying to play it off with a jokey no-big-deal kind of tone, but this is actually unsettling them quite a bit. It feels like it could be just as important as remembering the time loops, and... what happened just before they ended up here.]
no subject
... Do you think you might've forgotten it? Or—blocked it out? I mean, it wasn't exactly a warm and fuzzy memory...
[Or was it just someone else's memory after all? Whatever it was, somehow she also sensed its importance.]
I was saying... [Something she never would, wasn't it? She strains to think back, inwardly wishing Fret was here to Remind her—but eventually it does come to her.] ... A perfect ending. That I—wanted my perfect ending, too...
this social link is locked until u get way further in ISAT - /bricked
I'm very forgetful. [So: yeah, they could have. And that's all they're going to say about that! They know Shoka said she'd rather they talk to her, but this is something totally different, that they've dealt with for as long as they remember, so it doesn't count.
And if she knows just how much of a mess they are, maybe she'll reconsider, anyway-]But I can't think of anyone else I'd... be trying to kill... [Even before they remembered the time loops, they did remember the King, and the bone-deep hatred they have for him. So wouldn't they...?]
[Siffrin mouths the words along with her, and it feels familiar in their mouth. There's a terrified dread in their stomach, that if they were apologizing, that they were trying to kill one of their friends - but when they try to picture saying that to any of them, one by one, it doesn't fit. It can't have been any of them. (Or are they just in denial?)]
[But, even when they're trying:] ...I really don't remember.
[They just feel deeply uneasy.]
i understand 😔
That's okay. Maybe—it doesn't mean anything. Like I said, it might not have even been yours. In which case, I guess I just went and dumped someone else's baggage on you for no reason... As if mine wasn't enough. Me and my big mouth.
[She snorts, trying (weakly) to lighten the mood, just a little. A moment later, she adds, more seriously:]
But if it was, and you remember something... You can tell me about it then.
[She can't be sure that they will tell her... But they can. And she'd listen without judgement because...]
... I've seen way worse, for what it's worth. Done worse, too. [Or so she thinks, at least. Even if that memory wasn't Siffrin's, sensing their unease, she feels like she has to say something.] Whoever it was... They didn't want to do it. Not really. And they didn't go through with it either.