[ That gets a broken laugh out of Siffrin. No, he doesn’t.
(The only person who did isn’t alive anymore and you never even got this information out of him!) ]
It’s funny. Once you’re stuck for long enough, you look for any sign that this is the last one. Any script change is like a ray of hope from The Universe. It never works, of course. Usually it’s worse, actually— I don’t think The Universe really likes improv.
[ (So you stuck to the script. You said the same lines, performed the same actions, all for the sake of the script that The Universe told you to follow.) ]
But here… everything changes. I thought there was a script— someone dies on the night between Thursday and Friday, and then we get together to figure it out on Saturday and then they’re dead on Sunday… but now Nala and Seymour broke that, too. [ Under their cloak, they grip their arms so hard that they’re certain their nails would break through skin if they didn’t have their gloves on. ]
I don’t know which one scares me more, Hansa. Isn’t that funny?
so hard to breathe. They freeze up in Hansa’s hold, biting their lip to push down a sob. Hansa touches him without hesitation or fear or disgust
(But did your family members ever actually feel that way about you?)
and they… simply slump against the man’s chest, their forehead pressed against his shoulder. ]
I still… have to solve it. If I don’t, I’ll be stuck there and… haha… hahahaha… Hansa, I might lose my blinding mind if I have to stay in those loops for any longer.
[ (It’s yours, and only yours. But you’ll take hope— Universe knows you don’t have much of that left.)
They think back on the Head Housemaiden’s tearful confession, on Loop’s guidance, and on their own experiences. It’s surprisingly easier to observe the loops from the outside— like a spectator viewing a play.
(You wonder… if it was really only the people of Vaugarde that are the cause of your plight.
[ Siffrin looks up when Hansa allows him to stay, surprise clear in their one eye.
Followed by a deep shame. Maybe Hansa had things to do, and now they’re making him stay for no benefit other than Siffrin’s own.
(…)
Like a condemned sinner, Siffrin lowers their head and buries it again in Hansa’s shoulder, lifting their arms to hug the priest back. It may be shameful, and it may be the height of selfishness but…
(if you let go, it may just slip through your fingers like everything else in your life) ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
So Hansa cares about them? Would he still care if he learned the truth?
They look away. ]
When you asked me if I met the King… the answer’s yes. I’ve met the King so many blinding times, I could probably recite his lines myself.
no subject
[But it doesn't make sense. So many times, they say. To the point of reciting lines.]
[He's silent for a moment, something coming to mind as his expression becomes pensive.]
In the past, or... [...] Hyunjung told me he was trapped in a loop. Were you, too?
no subject
It’s
hard to breathe.
(You think about the script about your actors about your stage and
most of all
about yourself, the director that has them all trapped there.)
Siffrin nods. ]
no subject
[Hansa sighs, but he's offering them a gentle smile.]
I couldn't imagine what that's like. [He really couldn't, even if he could try.] But now I understand.
derealization cw
(The only person who did isn’t alive anymore and you never even got this information out of him!) ]
It’s funny. Once you’re stuck for long enough, you look for any sign that this is the last one. Any script change is like a ray of hope from The Universe. It never works, of course. Usually it’s worse, actually— I don’t think The Universe really likes improv.
[ (So you stuck to the script. You said the same lines, performed the same actions, all for the sake of the script that The Universe told you to follow.) ]
But here… everything changes. I thought there was a script— someone dies on the night between Thursday and Friday, and then we get together to figure it out on Saturday and then they’re dead on Sunday… but now Nala and Seymour broke that, too. [ Under their cloak, they grip their arms so hard that they’re certain their nails would break through skin if they didn’t have their gloves on. ]
I don’t know which one scares me more, Hansa. Isn’t that funny?
[ Hahaha. ]
no subject
You have no idea where anything will go. How anything will go. Or if this will be the last.
[He sees their hands gripping - and Hansa reaches out, arm slipping around their shoulders to pull them in for a hug.]
You should never have to deal with life being like...this kind of trap. That's hell. And you lived it, and it haunts you now.
I'm sorry, Siffrin. But that is more reason...why I won't abandon you.
no subject
[ (Breathe in. Breathe out.)
Or so they tell themselves, but in reality it is
so hard to breathe. They freeze up in Hansa’s hold, biting their lip to push down a sob. Hansa touches him without hesitation or fear or disgust
(But did your family members ever actually feel that way about you?)
and they… simply slump against the man’s chest, their forehead pressed against his shoulder. ]
I still… have to solve it. If I don’t, I’ll be stuck there and… haha… hahahaha… Hansa, I might lose my blinding mind if I have to stay in those loops for any longer.
no subject
[But he can't say nothing, either. Siffrin slumps, and Hansa gently pets over his upper back.]
We'll figure it out. I don't know how. But hope is something we won't lose if I can help it.
no subject
It’s not your responsibility, Hansa.
[ (It’s yours, and only yours. But you’ll take hope— Universe knows you don’t have much of that left.)
They think back on the Head Housemaiden’s tearful confession, on Loop’s guidance, and on their own experiences. It’s surprisingly easier to observe the loops from the outside— like a spectator viewing a play.
(You wonder… if it was really only the people of Vaugarde that are the cause of your plight.
you are so tired.) ]
Can… I stay here?
no subject
[Because this is more than a priest simply looking out for a lost sheep.]
[Hansa heaves a sigh, but he's not letting go.]
Of course. Whatever you want.
no subject
Followed by a deep shame. Maybe Hansa had things to do, and now they’re making him stay for no benefit other than Siffrin’s own.
(…)
Like a condemned sinner, Siffrin lowers their head and buries it again in Hansa’s shoulder, lifting their arms to hug the priest back. It may be shameful, and it may be the height of selfishness but…
(if you let go, it may just slip through your fingers like everything else in your life) ]