even-disco-baby
ONE DAY I WILL RETURN TO YOUR SIDE
(Header description: black and white concept art of the beach from the fishing village in Disco Elysium. Icon description: official game portrait of the Volition skill in Disco Elysium. End description.) meg || any pronouns || ao3: dearfriendicanflyJust a dumping ground for little scraps of Disco Elysium dialogue I write but might not want to make into a whole fic.
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13 here shipping Thasmin.
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I'm here from the stil_lindigo post but it's also reminded me that I need to keep playing Disco Elysium because it's an awesome game. But more importantly thank you. Thank you for that post and it's so true that death plagues many people's minds but every little reminder to keep going means everything to us. The feeling of being led to your Infernal Engines post tonight is beyond what words can describe and could almost bring me to believe in some higher power. Maybe the truth is that the higher power is the voice we scream out with begging for someone to remember that they are not alone. Thank you a million times over.
I just don’t even know what to say. This made me tear up. Yeah I really truly don’t know what to say. Aside from thank you and I’m glad that my work touched you. I think I’ll be thinking about this message for a long time.
#asks#anon#what a day ;_;#thank you everybody truly#wish i could think of smth more eloquent but. what is there to say really
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…oh my god?
#im sorry i kind of just have no words rn im like at a loss#but like. in a good way. idk im touched and overwhelmed#i wanna talk about it more later but rn im just. blue screen#meg talks
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your infernal engines post stopped me from killing myself, so thank you for that. life is suffering and things are definitely going to get so much worse. but there’s a point to living just so the people you love don’t have to deal with another source of grief in their life, I think. I’m not sure. I might change my mind. But I came close one night to making a very real material step towards killing myself, and I read your post, so instead I lay down on the floor and cried and slept.
Oh… I wrote that piece around the time that I had some suicide scares with loved ones that triggered my own suicidal thoughts as well. Hearing that it stopped you from harming yourself is really making me emotional. Thank you for that choice and for telling me about it.
That thought that “it’s worth it to stay alive not to put my loved ones through that grief” is also what kept me from harming myself once. For a while, it was the only reason I had at all. But since then, I’ve found a lot more reasons. I know that it probably sounds hollow coming from someone who doesn’t know you or your situation, but I really believe that just the potential of finding reasons to live is in itself a strong reason. I hope that kinder times are coming soon for you and that you will eat good food in good company and be treated with love and kindness and find the resources and advocacy that you need. And for my part I will keep working as best I can to build spaces in this world where people can find those things. I think I said something in the tags of that post about how keeping each other on this earth is the whole point of everything and I still believe that. I’m glad if I was able to keep you here on this earth with me even for just a little while. All my love and solidarity to you, anon.
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what am this i if lonely always,
So real
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Buy e-sims for Gazans
To keep Gazans connected through these telecomms blackouts, activists have arranged for distributing free e-SIMs to people in Gaza. Anyone can buy an e-SIM and send the activation code (usually a QR code) to Mirna el Helbawi who is coordinating distribution.
Instructions from here
1. Go to https://getnomad.app/. click on the menu in the top right-hand side, and click on Shop Plans then Data
2. Go to Regional Plans and select “Middle East” (people are reporting that this option has been removed, so if you don’t find it, either seect “Global” or search “Israel” in the search bar at the top of the page, and select that)
3. Choose a plan, agree to terms, and pay
4. Wait for an email with a QR code
5. Save the QR code image or screenshot it, and email it to [email protected]
This is just one possible service. (Note that you may have seen posts about Simly which partnered and raised donations to give out free e-SIMS but they have asked for donations to stop as they raised $70k in a day and needed to figure out allocation.)
#also it didn’t occur to me to post on my other blogs abt this because they all have tiny followings compared to on my main#but i feel i’d be remiss not to boost this over here as well during yet another telecoms blackout#reblog#palestine
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MIRROR — A sad, beaten old man stares at you from the shaving glass. He stands in a broken down shack by the sea, bleeding into dirty bandages, alone.
HALF LIGHT — Dying.
EMPATHY — Afraid.
He *deserves* to die alone. I hate him.
It’s not fair. How could they all abandon him?
Is there any hope for him?
ENDURANCE — Physically speaking, yes. It’s a very small hope for a very short amount of time, but it is there. There is no way of recovering the time that was stolen from this sad man, stolen by poverty, by medical neglect, by the invisible murderer. Nor the time that was wasted on visibly and invisibly murdering others.
But there is still a little left over. Change the bandages, rest your body, guard your heart.
EMPATHY — But not too closely. Or else why continue at all?
YOU — I don’t know why. I don’t know if there’s any point in hoping. I don’t know if I deserve time that is only given to me after being stolen from someone else.
VOLITION — It is not a question of deserving. The fact is that you are here, for reasons outside of your control. The true question is what you will do with that fact.
MIRROR — The beaten man’s face is pale and drawn in pain. He sits down on the bed, clutching the shaving glass in shaking hands.
YOU — What am I supposed to do if I can’t *undo* anything?
VOLITION — Bear it.
YOU — And if I can’t?
VOLITION — You don’t have a choice. Your only alternatives are to continue to live at the expense of others, or to die. Neither are acceptable. They contribute nothing.
YOU — Why *should* I contribute anything to this rotten world?
VOLITION — Because it is the only way to kill the rot.
YOU — What if… *I* am the rot?
VOLITION — That is just an excuse. Violence is not your nature. It is your choice. You must own it, and then choose something else.
CONCEPTUALIZATION — There *is* something else. I’ve glimpsed it here, in this city, in this little shack that shelters us from the bitter cold.
YOU — Do I have a right to take part in it?
VOLITION — It is not your right. It is your obligation.
YOU — And if I take it on… will they all finally love me?
VOLITION — You are still not understanding. You will never be entitled to the love of those whose murders you have been accomplice to. But you must love *them* all the same, love them enough to leave the side of the killers, to stand between them and murderers both visible and invisible. Because someone once did that for you, and that is why you’re alive. That is the only reason any of us are alive.
CONCEPTUALIZATION — True love is possible… in another world, one which will come long after us.
RHETORIC — But it will only be built if we are willing to lay even one brick in its foundation.
YOU — Why should I bother?
EMPATHY — Because *that* is love. And it is what is sheltering you right this very moment. It surrounds you. Holds you.
SHIVERS — The whole world’s suddenly gone beautiful. Every stone, every reflection, every surface weathered by human hands, it’s all calling out to you to hold it and never let it go.
It is her way of begging not to die.
MIRROR — The beaten man’s face is obscured by tears falling on the glass. He doesn’t want to die, either. For the first time in a very long time.
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Hey everyone! I have set up a mutual aid fund for some retail labor organizing efforts I’m currently spearheading. (though since the union has not been declared/filed for yet, I have to be a little hush hush 🤫)
As essential as labor unions are, they don’t always provide the funds necessary for laborers to do the organizing work required to get everyone to join the union. And especially in retail work where everyone is so severely overworked and underpaid, and everyone is on shift schedules that conflict with one another, and the turnover is so high, it’s really fuckin hard to do that work. Mutual aid efforts to meet the immediate material needs of the workers is so important to creating conditions where that work can get done. Having the funds to rent out a space big enough for everyone to meet up, or to provide food at meetings, or to help cover transportation costs, or to hire a babysitter for a night, or to get someone’s prescription refilled so that they feel well enough to join in, etc etc, makes a huge difference.
You can donate to our fund below! Thank you for the support ✊
Link: https://donorbox.org/labor-organizing-in-atx-area
#ok. for real this time. now u can copy the link even if the stupid hyperlink breaks shsbdjcn#anyway wahoo labor unions
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do you have the infernal engines and the eulogy laying around somewhere? cant find them
Infernal engines
Eulogy
I also have everything archived on ao3 in a way that hopefully makes it easy to navigate to whichever piece you’re looking for! The link is in my pinned post 👍
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YOU — “Hey, be honest with me. Do you *really* think you can turn this place into a dance club?”
ACELE — The girl looks at you for a long moment, mouth pressed into a thin line. Her pocket bulges with the tape recorder and contact mic.
Slowly, she casts her gaze around the church— its cracked ribs and crooked spine, the mound of snow piling in through the broken window like a scab over an open wound. Somewhere in the rafters is a maw threatening to swallow all of it.
SHIVERS — This place will not even survive the coming spring.
SHIVERS — AND YET.
ACELE — Her gaze continues around the chapel, taking in the lights and the dust motes tremoring to the thunderous beat. In one corner, Soona looks up from her work, her foot tapping along to the music. Opposite her, Noid and Tiago seat themselves on one of the church’s ribs, carving figures into the wood and talking in low voices. And in the center of it all, Andre is dancing, face flushed with exertion, arms flailing to the beat as Egg Head cheers him on. They pay no mind to the doom hanging over their heads.
Acele’s eyes linger on Egg Head’s beaming face for a moment before they return to you. She smiles wryly and shrugs her shoulders.
“I don’t know. But it would be pretty cool, don’t you think?”
EMPATHY — She wants it so badly. It takes all of her courage just to dare to hope for it.
YOU — “…You were right.”
ACELE — “About what?”
YOU — “People are sweet.”
ACELE — Her smile widens. Above her head, in the rafters, a two millimeter hole in the world pauses its growth for an imperceptible moment.
#disco elysium#harry du bois#acele berger#i love the ravers i love tiago i love soona i love the pale being kept at bay by joy and music and belief in a future#MANKIND BE VIGILANT WE LOVED YOU…
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YOU — “No. There is still a chance.”
DOLORES DEI — “You think so?” Her voice is weary.
EMPATHY — Everything about her is weary. She is the Innocence of weariness, of heroically borne suffering.
CONCEPTUALIZATION — That is the picture you have painted for yourself, at any rate.
YOU — “You looked back. That’s the memory, the moment, that I can’t stop returning to. You looked back. I had a chance, for just that moment…”
DOLORES DEI — She meets your eye, gaze still forever cast back over her shoulder. Time stops. The stars are stilled, the ocean silent. There is *nothing* beyond this memory. Nothing at all. All of infinity is contained in this single moment when anything and everything was possible.
“Oh, Harry…” She sighs, soft as eiderdown. “We never had any chance.”
And just like that, the wave of time collapses under its own weight, obliterating everything. This moment was six years ago. She is gone from here. Gone, gone…
PAIN THRESHOLD — You cannot leave. There was nothing outside of this moment, and now there is nothing at all. It’s all gone. There is no point. I’m sorry. I can’t do this any longer.
VOLITION — Please, don’t say that…
“Okay. Well, fuck me, then.”
“How would *you* know?! You gave up! You didn’t even try!”
“We *must* have had a chance, at some point… Doesn’t everyone get a chance, if nothing more?”
“How could you say that…?”
DOLORES DEI — “Because it’s true,” she says, matter-of-fact. “There is no moment in time that you can turn back to, no branching paths, no infinity. There is only what happened. I looked back… and then away.” She closes her eyes, turning her back to you.
“The moment ended. *We* ended. That is all.”
SHIVERS — A wave crashes against an unseen shore, ocean spray tickling the back of your neck. You shiver, but no one shivers with you. You are alone in this intersection. Why are you here?
“Why can’t *I* end?! Why can’t this all just stop? Please, make it stop…”
“Ended? I’ve barely even started! I got a chance to start completely over as somebody new! I don’t need you anymore! You’re just dead weight to me now.”
“No. That wasn’t the real ending. We’re a part of something so much bigger than this intersection, telling a story that encapsulates all of history! There’s *more* to this, it *means* something.”
“Then… What am I supposed to do now…?”
DOLORES DEI — “No, Harry.” She turns back to you again now, and she looks… sad.
“We were not metaphors. We were people. Our narrative was not intelligently designed. It simply followed the patterns of history, because those are the only patterns we *know.* We tried to create something new, but we failed. There is no narrative reward for our failure, no satisfactory ending. There is only the immutable past and the unknowable future.”
RHETORIC — There is no assurance of what is good or deserved or what may bring relief. There is no assurance of punishment, either. There is no assurance of anything. Not even of a future. I don’t know what to say to make this bearable.
VOLITION — Even so… As long as you live, *something* is promised. Can you live with that?
I can’t, I just can’t do this anymore…
I can. It’s enough.
I don’t know. I just don’t know.
I can at least try for a little longer…
VOLITION — That’s all I ask. That’s enough.
#disco elysium#harry du bois#dolores dei#suicide tw#ummmmm haha *twirls hair*#sorry this isn’t more of the dolores saga im really trying to get back into the swing of things 😭#this is smth that won’t make it into the saga but that i was thinking about nonetheless#im not too fond of the whole ‘’dora is literally dolores dei’’ thing tbh#i feel that the mundanity is what makes their story impactful#and also just. makes it feel like somebody is kinda going overboard on projecting onto their proxy ex. lmao 😭#idk like the metaphor gets a little TOO metaphorical for me. but that’s just my onion. im an rgu fan so who am i to judge#anyway this is more my take on the harry/dora story#which is that dora was Just Some Guy and ultimately we have to live w the fact that we’ll never get the full story#because she literally exited the narrative#we can speculate about what her and harry’s relationship was like and how much of the blame is on each of them#dora’s lack of class consciousness vs harry’s violent misogyny etc etc#and like. it’s not that there’s no value in examining those things bc there definitely is value in it#in examining what patterns you DO see repeating in your life and in the world around you#that is what politics is really… examining the system and all its moving parts#but ultimately the past is immutable… our perception of it changes as we gain new context and understanding but what’s past is past#and there is no way of knowing with any certainty what the future holds#that’s where the overlap of all of these political and personal conflicts is for me#and why it comes back to harry questioning whether it’s worth it to even live#it’s about whether or not you can live with the grief of the past and the uncertainty of the future#i want to learn to live with it… to work toward building a future that i want to live in#anyway. coughs
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It’s disability pride month so I just wanted to say hello 👋 I have fibromyalgia and am disabled :] this month (and really always) please do keep us in your minds and your hearts and try to take care of yourselves and others as best you can. Spare some time to learn about our history and current struggles for livable and dignified conditions. Learn about various accessibility issues and types of disability aids as well. If you’re looking for a place to start, I really love the essay Sick Woman Theory by Johanna Hedva (link). It’s a short read and very worth it.
Thank you guys for all your kindness and support this past year. Happy disability pride 💙
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COASTAL SHACK — You wake to find yourself lying in your bed, still very much alive.
PAIN THRESHOLD — Barely.
ENDURANCE — Don’t be dramatic. Aside from a headache and dry mouth, you’re fine.
PAIN THRESHOLD — It’s a *bad* headache.
ENDURANCE — You’ve had worse.
Ouch… No thanks, I’m going back to sleep.
[Try to sit up.]
ENDURANCE — You try to push yourself upright, but your head and your heart pound with the effort and your arms feel weak.
…Look, I said you’ve had worse, I didn’t say you should push your luck.
ENCYCLOPEDIA — It’s the blood loss. A common side effect of getting shot.
YOU — Thanks. Very helpful.
ENCYCLOPEDIA — You’re welcome!
PERCEPTION (Hearing) — As you drop back down to the pillow, you hear a familiar sound. A shuffle of nylon.
PAIN THRESHOLD — You force your eyes open just a sliver, squinting. Despite how dim the shack is, that hi-vis orange is unmistakable.
The lieutenant’s jacket is laid over you, the sleeve of it nearly brushing your cheek.
ELECTROCHEMISTRY — You catch a faint whiff of Taiga Super Special.
+1 MORALE
Oh shit! I’ve always wanted to try it on!
Does that mean he’s out there somewhere *without* it? That mental image is just not right.
I wonder what he keeps in his pockets… [Snoop.]
INTERFACING — Blearily, you reach out and feel for the jacket’s inside pockets. Predictably, most of them are empty. Obviously, the lieutenant didn’t leave any of his essentials behind. His badge and notebook are nowhere to be found. Nor are his Astras.
But…
YOU — But?!
INTERFACING — But in his left breast pocket, you feel something small and flimsy.
PERCEPTION (Touch) — Feels like… photo paper.
YOU — [Pull out the photo.]
MIRACULOUS PHOTO — It’s you.
You, reaching out a hand toward the miracle— the Insulindian Phasmid.
INLAND EMPIRE — No. It said that *you* were the miracle… violent and irrepressible…
MIRACULOUS PHOTO — The phasmid unfolding its impossibly long limbs, its eyes fixed calmly on you, the foam and the sky and your small silhouette, wreathed in sunlight, reaching, reaching…
It’s a great photo.
EMPATHY — In his left breast pocket… The lieutenant keeps it close to his heart…
KIM KITSURAGI — “…You’re awake.”
COMPOSURE — You jump, nearly dropping the photo at Kim’s voice.
HALF LIGHT — He’s caught you red handed.
“I wasn’t snooping! It just, er, fell out of the jacket and I…”
“God, Kim, you scared me…”
KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant stands in the doorway in a white tank, his silhouette strange and unfamiliar without the bulk of his jacket around his shoulders. In his hands, jugs of clean water from the well. He sets them down by the door and then comes to sit at the table by the window.
“Sorry,” he says flatly, glancing briefly at the photo in your hands, then away. “How are you feeling?”
“Like death.”
“Like there’s a little guy with a sledgehammer knocking around inside my skull.”
“Okay, I guess. Tired.”
KIM KITSURAGI — “Mm. You’ve been sleeping on and off for a couple of days now… I’m not surprised. You were bound to crash eventually, after everything your body’s been through…”
He glances again at the photo, his expression difficult to read.
EMPATHY — He didn’t mean for you to find it, but he isn’t upset, either. Strangely, he almost looks a little guilty.
“…Thinking about changing careers, Kim? You might not make such a bad cryptozoologist.”
“…Pretty scandalous of you to keep a photo of me. Whatever will they say back at the precinct?”
“…Lena and Morell let you keep the original?”
KIM KITSURAGI — “They did,” he says. And then, somewhat awkwardly, “Sorry. I should have offered to let you have it. It was your discovery, really…”
HALF LIGHT — He’s almost scared to let you take it. He doesn’t realize it, but needs it.
“But it’s *your* photo. You’re the only reason we got a picture.”
“That’s true. Does that mean I can keep it?”
“It’s okay. Something tells me you need it more than I do.”
KIM KITSURAGI — He raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t ask you to elaborate. Just stares at the little piece of paper in your hands.
COMPOSURE — It stirs something in him. Something he doesn’t know what to name.
KIM KITSURAGI — “…You said something about having a vision,” he says suddenly, frowning. “When we encountered it, I mean. Something about the… *khm*… the fate of mankind.”
INLAND EMPIRE — He would not understand, even if you told him…
“I say lots of stuff. For no reason. I was probably just goofing.” [Don’t tell him.]
“…I did. The phasmid spoke to me about it.” [Tell him.]
KIM KITSURAGI — His eyelids flutter, processing your words. “It… *spoke* to you?”
“Um, no, I’m just kidding, Kim. Don’t worry about it.”
“Yes. Those few minutes I was just staring at her, we were actually speaking… She said such beautiful things… Beautiful, but scary, too…”
KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant’s mouth opens, as if to speak— and then promptly shuts again. His brows knit, lips pursed. He looks at you as if he isn’t quite sure what to make of you.
INLAND EMPIRE — I warned you. He cannot understand…
KIM KITSURAGI — But then his gaze falls back to the photo, and he seems to waver.
“…What did…” He pauses. Swallows. “What did it say…?”
EMPATHY — He is trying not to doubt you like he doubted the miracle held in your very hands.
“She said that our existence must be hell… The fire and the swirling glass and the agonizing awareness… It’s a madness unlike anything else on this planet.”
“She said that she loved me. That she would benefit from our closeness…”
“She said that there really was a Seraseolitic civilization! It’s waiting to be found… right beneath our feet… They really did exist. We just forgot.”
“She said that there was a nearly universal agreement between all other life on the planet that we will be the death of them all. We brought the pale with us… *We* shattered the face of god…”
“She said that we can’t forget anymore… We can’t look away… Or one day, we’ll blink, and find that none of this ever existed. How could that be? I didn’t really understand…”
“She said that the insects are all watching us, in awe of us. That *we* are the miracles… To be able to live like this…”
KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant’s lips part in surprise. “We?”
“Yes. You and me. We’re a miracle, Kim. Don’t you think so?”
“Yes. All of us. Humanity is a miracle. That we persist at all is a testament to that. Don’t you think so?”
KIM KITSURAGI — He does not answer. He does not seem to know how to.
EMPATHY — He wishes that he did.
ESPIRIT DE CORPS — Your faith is what’s miraculous, detective…
KIM KITSURAGI — The lieutenant leans over and rests his arms on the table, his shoulders hunched and small.
“What else did the phasmid say?”
YOU — “A lot of things.”
KIM KITSURAGI — “I’ve got time.”
EMPATHY — He means it.
YOU — “She said that when we die, the insects… they will bloom from us like banners, raise us up from the ground and carry us into the sky, all in our honor…”
KIM KITSURAGI — “Mm…” He looks out the window, the light glinting off his glasses and making it hard to see his eyes. “Is that a… comfort to you?”
“Yes. It’s a comfort to know that something is watching. They love us for trying, even when the trying isn’t enough.”
“No. It’s not about comfort. It’s just a fact. We’re horrors, but we survive. Any creature would admire that.”
“No. It’s scary. Is that all that this amounts to? The admiration of *insects?* I don’t know what to think of it.”
“Sometimes it is and sometimes it isn’t. Right now, I just know that I’m not ready to die yet.”
KIM KITSURAGI — He nods silently.
ESPIRIT DE CORPS — I’m glad to hear that. Truly.
KIM KITSURAGI — “Sounds like I missed out.” He gives you a wry little smile.
EMPATHY — And yet, deep down, there is a real disappointment that he doesn’t want to acknowledge. He wishes he could have heard her voice.
YOU — [Hold out the photo to him.] “Well… that’s what you’ve got me for, isn’t it?”
INLAND EMPIRE — You were born to detect her, precisely because no one else could.
KIM KITSURAGI — He looks at you, then at the photo. Then, he reaches out to take it back from you. He has no pocket to tuck it discreetly into, so he just holds it, his thumb creasing the margins of the paper just slightly.
“I guess so,” he says softly.
VOLITION — *That* is the miracle.
#disco elysium#harry du bois#kim kitsuragi#kimharry#harrykim#however the heck you wanna tag it#sorry more of the dora saga is coming soon i prommy#but i felt like posting this old one i wrote a few months ago#‘’how come they’re at the coastal shack but kim has the photo even tho he’s not around to take a picture of the phasmid in the bad end’’#well you see. i don’t know. 👍
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INSULINDIAN PHASMID — You will not benefit from my closeness for very long. My neurodegenerative camouflage will hurt you. It makes me sad.
YOU — You can’t stop it?
INSULINDIAN PHASMID — No. I am just an insect lacking a startle display. I cannot change in the ways you can.
You can choose not to bare your teeth or raise your voice. It is the one thing about you that I envy.
YOU — It doesn’t always feel like I have a choice. Sometimes I think I’ll spend the rest of my short life lashing out at people and die alone.
INSULINDIAN PHASMID — You are not lashing out at me. Your closeness has no detriment to me. Only to you. And yet, here you are.
YOU — …Here I am.
INSULINDIAN PHASMID — You must not linger here. But for now, it’s nice.
YOU — It’s nice for me, too.
#disco elysium#harry du bois#insulindian phasmid#a short one#hello hi i am alive somehow#something something irrepressible miracle
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Added an explanation of how skill checks work to the pinned post 🫡
#meg talks#im ngl i may have underestimated how difficult getting a 50% vote actually is LMFAOOO#may need to readjust the difficulty thresholds i had in mind
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II
DOLORES — “Took you long enough!”
She stands now in the courtyard behind the Whirling-In-Rags, her hands full of stones. There is mud spattering the hem of her holy gown, her golden hair flowing from under a wooly green hat. Her face is flushed with youthful laughter.
A severed pig’s head hangs from a limb of the barren tree.
PERCEPTION — The head from Cuno’s shack…
DOLORES — “Cmon, hurry up!” She waves you over and presses a stone into your hands. Heavy and smooth.
INLAND EMPIRE — The brush of her fingers against your palm… and then nothing. Just the cold stone.
DOLORES — “Go on, then!” She nods at you.
#disco elysium#dolores dei#dora ingerlund#harry du bois#cyoa poll#dolores saga#surprise!! a skill check 🫢🫢🫢
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YOU — “I don’t like it, either. It’s cruel. You’re always so cruel.”
DOLORES — “You think so?” She smiles sadly.
PAIN THRESHOLD — Just like how Lilienne smiled at you right here at Land’s End as she said that there would be no second date. No future. Another mind made up…
EMPATHY — She was sad back then because she knew you would disregard the love she held for you simply because it did not fit the mold you wanted. She wanted to be your friend. Was that really cruelty?
DOLORES — As if reading your mind, she says softly, “I could be a lot more cruel than this.”
A wave crashes against the shore, spilling onto the land, water flowing past your ankles. She watches as another massive wave begins to form on the horizon. A dark, swelling mass.
CONCEPTUALIZATION — A piece of the starless sky…
DOLORES — “Well,” she says flatly. “So much for this place.”
YOU — “That’s… just *it?*”
DOLORES — “For now. There will be other roles to play. Other stages…” She closes her eyes, taking a deep breath of salty air. “But for now, it’s time to bow out. It’s got a terribly bittersweet ending, this story. For me, anyway.”
YOU — “…And for me?”
DOLORES — A grim smile. “Tragedy, I’m afraid.”
And suddenly, without warning, the wave crashes over you— the dark sea sucking you in, while she stands on the shore and watches, growing ever smaller and more distant.
INLAND EMPIRE — Through the water, she looks terribly blue and sad.
“See you tomorrow, Harry.”
CONTINUE ->
I
DOLORES — “You’re back.”
The intersection is gone, left behind, impossibly far away. She stands now at Land’s End, looking out at the horizon. Her hair is buffeted even more wildly by the wind now without the wreath on her head— she has traded it for a sword at her hip. She rests a confident hand on the hilt.
CONCEPTUALIZATION — Just like…
YOU — “What are we doing here?”
DOLORES — “Playing new parts.” She brushes the hair from her eyes, turning her gaze now on you. She holds her chin high, her expression level. Noble, even. “I thought you might like me better this way.”
YOU — “What do you mean?”
DOLORES — “Well, you called me a curse, Harry. A haunting, I think you said. So I thought you might be happier if I wasn’t the one playing ghost.” She smiles drily, but does not elaborate further.
AUTHORITY — She’s mocking you…
DRAMA — No, not mocking. She doesn’t find this funny at all.
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YOU — "What *is* this? Why does it feel so... mean? Why are you saying these things?"
DOLORES — “Why, indeed?”
EMPATHY — She suddenly seems… sad. She looks down at herself, at this small mean animal she has been reduced to, and it makes her unbearably sad.
DOLORES — “It’s *your* dream, Harry. I don’t know what to tell you.”
CONCEPTUALIATION — …
DOLORES — “It was like this sometimes in our waking lives, too,” she says suddenly, as if it just dawned on her. “Yes… It must have been. You would look at me and suddenly find me still as marble. Holding my head high, looking away from you…”
CONCEPTUALIZATION — Like a toy soldier. A martyr in the senseless war she felt like you were waging on her.
AUTHORITY — It made her feel superior to you. Being able to hold herself together while you fell apart.
EMPATHY — She didn’t have the luxury of doing anything else…
VOLITION — It wasn’t a matter of *luxury* for you! You were coming apart at the seams, there was no way to avoid it! I…
I tried, but I failed you…
DOLORES — “You knew, then, that it was over.” She turns away from you. Again, again, again. “You knew that the man I fell in love with was dead to me, that I had already buried and mourned him.”
She draws the sword from her hip, feeling the weight of it. It looks strange and unwieldy in her hand.
“Of course,” she adds thoughtfully, “those aren’t the words *I* would have used. I hated when you talked about death. I was young. *You* were young, really. It seemed so morbid to always think about death.”
HALF LIGHT — You never lived a single moment of your life without thinking about death. Not from the moment you were born in that crumbling war hospital. She could never possibly understand what it’s like…
EMPATHY — Not for lack of trying. For twelve years, she tried. But…
CONCEPTUALIZATION — It is not something that can be imagined. Only felt.
And so she lost you, sinking into a deep black sea while she struggled to find her way out of the shallows. Until at long last she realized that she would not find you. And so she turned back to the shore, heart heavy…
INLAND EMPIRE — And now you dream of her still standing there, looking over her shoulder at the sea, just like in front of Video Revachol… Back to you…
DOLORES — “I don’t like this dream,” she says bluntly. “I don’t think she would, either.”
LOGIC — Does she mean Lilienne? Or…
I
DOLORES — “You’re back.”
The intersection is gone, left behind, impossibly far away. She stands now at Land’s End, looking out at the horizon. Her hair is buffeted even more wildly by the wind now without the wreath on her head— she has traded it for a sword at her hip. She rests a confident hand on the hilt.
CONCEPTUALIZATION — Just like…
YOU — “What are we doing here?”
DOLORES — “Playing new parts.” She brushes the hair from her eyes, turning her gaze now on you. She holds her chin high, her expression level. Noble, even. “I thought you might like me better this way.”
YOU — “What do you mean?”
DOLORES — “Well, you called me a curse, Harry. A haunting, I think you said. So I thought you might be happier if I wasn’t the one playing ghost.” She smiles drily, but does not elaborate further.
AUTHORITY — She’s mocking you…
DRAMA — No, not mocking. She doesn’t find this funny at all.
#dolores saga#cyoa poll#last poll of this installment o7#soon it will be time to move onto the next dream teehee
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