othersdie | 1 [text]

Thank you for the warm reception. However poorly I articulated it, I appreciated the offers of assistance.

I have a question, but I'm not sure if there's an answer. Regardless: what's the purpose of the graveyard? The carousel, the ticking, the deities--all of that makes sense (or as much sense as anything else), but why is there a place to bury people if no one stays dead here? Is it just a prop? It feels significant, although feelings can't be relied on.

This is a strange place--strange in its own way, stranger when I think about it. I'd call it all a dream if I wasn't convinced that I'm awake. Every time I think I'm close to making sense of something, it slips away.

That's not important. Thank you, again, for being so welcoming.

[Filtered to Neil and Todd // Hackable]

I've read all of the guides (most of them appear to be outdated) and as much as I could find about filters. It's unnecessary to use one, I suppose, since I can just talk to you, but some things are more comfortably put in writing.

First and most importantly, thank you. I don't fully understand why you trust me enough to let me into your apartment when you know about what I've done and you realize that I'm not the same person you knew. Whether I should blame kindness or poor judgment, thank you.

Second--and I don't know if I should tell either of you this, but something wholly inexplicable tells me that I can trust you--I've been having odd experiences. Do you know what it's like to try to remember a dream you've just woken up from? It's like that, and sometimes I think I'm on the verge of something... and then it gets away. Is this a normal phenomenon here?

Third, I'd like to repeat what I typed first. I haven't done anything to earn trust, kindness, or friendship--not that I remember. I hope that you're both usually more cautious.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

You're probably right. It's not like we're incapable of altering our thoughts or destined to repeat past actions.

Still, though, there are some things that can't be forgiven. [Euphie seems to be talking from personal experience, but surely she didn't do anything too terrible.]

From what I've seen, most people can only handle one significant other, if that.

Anything can be forgiven if we choose to forgive it. [She's quiet another moment before looking back into his eyes.]

If that? [She smiles softly, glad to think of something else.] Are they so much work?

We're not always the only ones who need to forgive ourselves.

[Purple eyes. Pink hair. He thinks that he should be unsettled by the combination, but that's definitely not happening. But no, he's not going to ogle and act stupid because Lisa proved that girls are not impressed by that sort of thing. Best not to make eye contact.]

They must be. Only fifty-two percent of couples who marry stay together for as long as fifteen years; the average length of a relationship is between six and seven years. ...But those are the statistics from where I'm from. They must be different for you, or at least for your father.

No, but somethings... Maybe it's not that you can't have forgiveness for it's that you can't ask it. [She couldn't imagine asking those families to forgive her. Not for that, but it didn't mean she couldn't go on too.]

Mm...you must retain details well. I couldn't say exactly how it is where I'm from exactly. It is largely political in my family.

That's the case sometimes. Sometimes forgiveness just isn't granted.

Just selectively. [The small compliment gets a fleeting--and slightly pleased--smile.] Marriage is political? I've never heard of a political system that encourages someone to have over one hundred spouses.

[Nodding.]

It isn't required. It's simply better to continue the bloodline. And I suppose there are other reasons it may be advantageous.

If the objective is continuing a paternal line, it does make sense. It's still hard to imagine.

Maybe it's just the emperor's prerogative.

The emperor's your father?

Yes, that's right.

What title would you have?

I was the third princess and sub-viceroy to Area 11 which you might know as Japan.

Sub-viceroy? You seem... young. To help run a coun--an area, I mean. Not that I wouldn't think you're perfectly capable...

[Um.]

My older sister was viceroy. Most duties fell to her. I was sixteen then.

Sixteen... I'm sorry that you died.

[Wait. Maybe this isn't the kind of thing people like to talk about.]

If you did, I mean, where you're from. You just--if you regained your life you must have lost it somewhere, but I don't fully understand death in the City.

[She debates making this private for a moment before shrugging it off.]

It's all right.

You're correct. I died shortly before my seventeenth birthday at home. I've haven't died again since being here.

That's something. No one needs to die more than once. But people like you--good people--shouldn't have to die early.

People like me? [She looks at him thoughtfully.]

No one should.

Yes. [Because she's once of the nicest people he's ever met, and obviously that means she should have lived a long and healthy life.]

Some people have to.

[Perhaps surprisingly she has no response to this. Before her death she never would have agreed, but how could she ever have been anything but a danger to the Japanese and heartache to those who cared about her if she'd lived in that state?]

Hm.

[That might have been a fine example of going too far. Saying that some people have to die--that's not the done thing in polite company. Or any company ever.]

Sorry--I'm sorry. I didn't mean it like--it's not... there are criminal justice systems in place for a reason, which doesn't always mean that everyone--I don't know. Sorry. I shouldn't have said that, or anything else.

[She shakes her head.] I'm sorry. It was a long time ago, but sometimes...

[She's quiet a moment before trying to manage a smile for him. It's there, but fleeting.] Please don't feel like you can't say things.

I'd rather not say things that bother you.

[with extra awkward] If it... if there are things you want to talk about, some time... I'm a decent listener.

...[She smiles softly.] You are sweet, Justin.

[That garners an expression that would, in text, best be expressed with pleased and embarrassed keysmashing.]

So are you. [alskdjf;ajsd] Um... thank you.

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