... That's one thing we are, for better or for worse.
[belph can't bring himself to hope. he's too worn out for it. but at this point, he's divorced himself enough from his life that he's practically a failing machine—even through dulled movements, all he can do is tick along to try and complete his task nevertheless, until he finally has no choice but to stop. he doesn't need to believe in an ideal ending to work for it.]
[no one has yet taught her that a watched pot never boils]
...I hope that, eventually, it will be for the better.
[it will take some time, but - although three weeks seems unbearably long to her, it's still the early days. they have time. they're not out of it just yet.]
... Probably in more locked buildings. Apparently the newer ones gave some info—I've gotten a vague idea of some of it, but they're planning on revealing it publicly later, if there's no backlash.
And one of them will let us send messages to the dead starting next week.
...good. That may be more reliable than making grand declarations at trial and hoping they are watching.
[though they can see what's going on, apparently.]
And from the sound of it, certain things were discovered by the dead in some of the places people came from, so... it is not ideal for more of our number to be there, but perhaps now we stand a better chance of them discovering something, as well.
...if that is the case, then I am sorry I could not be that for him. Being different from others around you can be... very lonely, even when you are surrounded by people.
Don't worry, I'm pretty sure the only thing he'll be writing about is how much we all freakin' suck for not catching his killer. You won't be missing out.
[yeah, that sounds like a "for worse" thing, belph. flayn fidgets, trying to come up with something to avoid saying that, and checks on the rice again. there is no difference between it three seconds ago and now.]
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It's best to be prepared for any possibility.
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still not boiling. damn.]
I suppose. [...] Still... I believe that we shall find a way. We may not be very good at catching killers, but we are all very... um, stubborn.
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... That's one thing we are, for better or for worse.
[belph can't bring himself to hope. he's too worn out for it. but at this point, he's divorced himself enough from his life that he's practically a failing machine—even through dulled movements, all he can do is tick along to try and complete his task nevertheless, until he finally has no choice but to stop. he doesn't need to believe in an ideal ending to work for it.]
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...I hope that, eventually, it will be for the better.
[it will take some time, but - although three weeks seems unbearably long to her, it's still the early days. they have time. they're not out of it just yet.]
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We need info.
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[she frowns slightly]
There is still fog around the camp - perhaps information is hiding in whatever locations it is covering.
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And one of them will let us send messages to the dead starting next week.
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[though they can see what's going on, apparently.]
And from the sound of it, certain things were discovered by the dead in some of the places people came from, so... it is not ideal for more of our number to be there, but perhaps now we stand a better chance of them discovering something, as well.
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...as long as any of us still has consciousness— it is not over.
[even the dead are "alive" enough to write to them.]
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Be careful about how you word that. Consciousness, for some, can be an eternal hell.
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...yes, you are right.
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[she wants to deny it - but, she brought it up to him in the first place. if it gives him something else to focus on, so be it.]
Not exactly. He thought, perhaps, that I had been dead. [...] I was not. He was kind enough not to press me for too many details.
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[ :c ]
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[that'll be going to him and steph, she's pretty sure]
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[time to check on the rice... ah, it needs a few more minutes]
—at least it will mean he is well enough to write at all.
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[which. does not mean he might not have a breakdown because it's hikage, but.]
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[yeah, that sounds like a "for worse" thing, belph. flayn fidgets, trying to come up with something to avoid saying that, and checks on the rice again. there is no difference between it three seconds ago and now.]
...that is an unfortunate thing to be used to.
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[and now he's dead again.]
C'est la vie, I guess.
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