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umbry-fic · 2 years

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Promises

Summary: After the events on Mount Fooji, Lloyd notices that Colette is acting a little strange.

Fandom: Tales of Symphonia Characters: Colette Brunel, Lloyd Irving Relationships: Colette Brunel/Lloyd Irving Rating: T Word Count: 3745 Mirror Link: AO3 Original Post Date: 11/06/2022

Notes+Warnings: Written for Colloyd Week Day 3: Touch. I took the prompt of Touch very literally. This is a very, very self-indulgent fic about non-sexual intimacy, though we take a while to get there. (I like to headcanon Colette as having pretty high sensual attraction that goes absolutely haywire once she regains her senses so yeah.)

~~~

It didn’t take long for Lloyd to notice that something was off. Perhaps he’d already been on the lookout for signs that something was wrong, that Colette was hiding something, after spending so many weeks worrying over her.

Passing countless nights without the comfort of dreams, attempting to puzzle out the reason behind her strange behaviour; concealing her secret, weighing on his heart with the heavy burden of guilt; watching over her lifeless body, her soul locked away within red, empty eyes, ensuring she came to no harm and praying for her return, doing everything within his power to bring back her smile.

With her soul now set free, Colette had quickly returned to her old self. At least, it seemed so at first. Constantly moving around, grateful that she could as she wanted now, able to wiggle her fingers of her own volition. Chatting up a storm with everyone, especially their new companions, wanting to get to know them and forge a closer bond. That familiar bright smile gracing her face, holding so much genuine joy. Joy from being able to taste the food sitting on her tongue, savour the heat spreading from the stew she spooned into her mouth, feel the cold of the raindrops pelting against her skin as she raised her face to the sky. Never failing to chase away whatever clouds darkened his day, letting rays of hope through that strengthened his drive. To keep moving forward, to keep fighting. For a better world, where she would no longer be burdened with the hopes of a dying world, resting on her fragile shoulders.

Yet, he couldn’t help but notice that she was avoiding him. All the subtle things no longer went unnoticed, unlike when he’d been far more ignorant, taking her hand without ever knowing what went on behind her blue eyes.

There was a chasm between them now, widening with each day until it was so gapingly large that he could barely see her on the other side. Ever since that day on Mount Fooji, when they’d met each other in the middle of the summit with a tearful embrace as he held her tight, simply muttering her name over and over, the sweet sound of her voice in his ear filling his heart.

Since then, she hadn’t approached him. Not once. He would catch her hovering at the corner of his vision, never coming any closer, her hands clenching and unclenching, as if trying to grasp something he couldn’t see. Whenever he turned around to inquire, she would all of a sudden be wrapped up in something else, leaving him no room to speak. But even when she was caught like a deer in headlights, he couldn't find it in him to ask her what was wrong. Not when she averted her gaze, wringing her hands, something almost akin to guilt flitting across her face.

At dinner, she invited others to fill the spots next to her, whether it be Genis or Zelos or Sheena, striking up raucous conversations that he didn’t have the heart to interrupt. Not when they were filled with wild and excited gesturing, winding down unforeseen paths.

Perhaps space was what she needed. That was what he’d told himself, standing by the campfire, plate in hand and watching the orange light of the flames shimmer on her hair, before taking a seat somewhere else. Tamping down the urge to reach out and hold her close, swallowing down emotions he didn’t even know how to put into words.

To have witnessed the light leave her eyes at the Tower of Salvation had been horrifying enough, the illusion of a perfect, happy world shattering, the shards wickedly sharp and slicing through his heart. But to have experienced it firsthand - that helplessness, the ice-cold prison slowly closing over her heart, bearing it all with a smile only to learn that everything had been an elaborate lie used to manipulate her… How harrowing that must have been for Colette. Maybe staying away was the right choice.

But he couldn’t, not anymore. Couldn’t stand still and say nothing, do nothing. So many years had been spent accepting her fake smiles, letting her false laughter wash all of his suspicions away, falling for her masterful act and never questioning the tears she wiped away when he came up behind her. Never reaching far enough to pull aside the veil that hid the crying girl, suffering all alone, unwilling to burden others. Too scared to look closer and discover the ugly truth, even though he’d told her he would always protect her. Just another broken vow, added to an endless pile whose weight he could acutely feel.

He’d made a promise to himself, on that starry night as he’d held her trembling body close, bitter tears falling from his eyes, knowing full well she could no longer feel his embrace.

There would be no more running away. He wouldn’t let her suffer alone, ever again.

Even if she wasn't ready to talk, he could, at the very least, remind her that he was here for her. That he would make good on his promises now.

Sometimes, that was all one could do. She was the one who had taught him that, with the kind touch of her hand, gently brushing away his tears as she told him things would be alright, even after she’d run out of words. Continuing to trace out “I love you” tenderly in his palm, long after he thought he no longer deserved it.

~~~

He made his move at dinnertime, not planning to waste even a single night. They’d stopped at a local inn, prepared to relax with the luxury of actual beds and four walls to protect them from the storm raging outside, making branches scratch against the windows like nails. Nothing compared to the silky smoothness of the sheets in Meltokio, a heavenly sensation he didn’t think he’d ever forget. But it was still infinitely better than sleeping bags, where one could feel the rugged rocks digging into their shoulder blades, and the wind proved to be a jealous lover, never releasing one from its bitingly cold embrace.

Ignoring the delicious smell of stew that made his stomach rumble, he walked right past the saliva-inducing plates set on the counter, steam venting off the top, and slid into place next to Colette before she could do anything.

She froze, stiff as a statue, gaze pointedly fixed on the worn wood of the table. Across the room, Genis gave him a nod and an encouraging smile.

Taking her hand, he paused, his thumb rubbing circles into her palm. When was the last time he’d held her hand, and not found it cold and slack, Colette staring off into space without a hint of recognition in those eyes, red as blood?

Now it was warm, and jumped slightly in shock, reminding him of days they’d spent doing nothing in particular, hands linked together under the blue summer sky.

A small sound grabbed his attention. Colette’s fingers curled tight over his, a small flush beginning to overtake her cheeks, even as she continued to avoid his gaze. Planting the smallest seed of an idea in his mind.

Meet me tonight.

He traced the letters on the back of her hand with a steady finger, the weeks of practice he had guiding his movements. The message having been sent out, like a paper boat onto the river on a rainy day to float to unknown destinations, there was nothing left to do now but wait. Watching her silent struggle, not a single word falling from her lips as she bit down on it hard enough to draw blood.

After a completely silent dinner where he barely tasted anything shovelled into his mouth, nervousness brewing in his stomach, her hand never leaving his, he finally got his response.

A little squeeze of her hand and a subtle nod, her hair falling forward to shield her face from view.

Relieved, he smiled, squeezing back.

“I’ll see you then.”

~~~

His fingers tapped endlessly against the desk at which he sat, chin resting on his hand as his gaze kept glued to the clock on the wall. The hands continued to shift, the constant ticking piercing his ears and getting louder with each passing second.

It was quickly approaching eleven at night, the window showing a world of darkness outside, so dense that nothing could breach it. Was she going to come? He couldn’t help but repeat that question to himself, even though he had the utmost faith in her. To find the immense well of courage she had within her, always present even when she didn’t believe in herself. The strongest person he knew, with an unbreakable spirit.

A sudden knock interrupted the monotony, leading him to jump to his feet and run to the door, throwing it open to reveal the girl he’d been waiting for.

“Hi,” Colette whispered, gaze downcast as she made her way in, slumping on the bed with a carefully blank expression, hands clasped in her lap. He took a seat next to her, sinking into the mattress. A tense bubble of silence fell upon them, stretching on as he hesitated about his next step.

Exhaling, he let his hand inch across the space between them, as if approaching a scared animal, bridging the gap between them while ready to retract at any second. But she said nothing, only sighing as he took her hand.

“It’s been a while since it was just the two of us,” he muttered, his thumb ghosting over her knuckles. Hoping that, even if he wasn’t skilled enough with words to untangle the knot of emotions within him and express it in its entirety, he could do it through other means. Shivers wracked her from the small contact alone, solidifying the suspicions that had sprouted in his mind over the long hours spent waiting.

“Sorry for avoiding you.” Her mask dropped, like a dam shattering under far too much pressure. Revealing guilt, flooding her face as she shrunk further into herself. “I suppose I haven’t been very discreet…”

“It’s fine. Really,” he reassured her gently, not wanting her to be shackled down with ever more regret. “You don’t have to apologize. But if you wanted to hold my hand, you could have just asked, you know. It’s not some major request or anything.”

Flames crackled in the fireplace, throwing up embers and dancing to a tune only they knew. Casting warm light onto the girl who held his heart, illuminating what seemed to be the beginnings of a blush.

“S - sorry.” She was definitely blushing now, bowing her head, hand gripping her elbow and wrinkling the fabric bunched between her fingers. “It’s such a silly thing, isn’t it? I didn’t think it was worth bothering you over.”

“It’s not silly. Nothing that means so much to you is silly,” he protested, as her fingers finally began to move - her turn to explore the surface of his hand, each rub of her thumb so tender that it took his breath away. Tracing the scars and calluses that she must have memorized long ago, on sleepy days in the schoolhouse spent playing with the ends of the newest bandage wrapped around his finger, before teasingly rapping her knuckles against his forehead and giggling as his eyes fluttered open, ending his nap. The first thing he saw upon waking up being her smiling visage, like that of a goddess that had descended from heaven, groggily wondering if he was still dreaming.

The memory of which had been obscured by the fog of her angel transformation, fading away to be forgotten.

She hadn’t known anyone’s touch in so long. It made sense that she’d be craving it, with all of her being. Yet, as always, she held herself back. Always following behind someone’s back meekly with her mouth kept firmly shut, never reaching out for what she wanted.

“It’s just…” Her hand slipped away, curling into fists in her lap, trembling. “They always told me it was wrong. To want things, to ask for things. That it was selfish.”

By “they”, she must have meant the priests. Stamping into her the idea that she shouldn’t be a normal girl, with desires and hopes and dreams. That to do so would mean endangering the fate of the world, leaving her to be condemned by all as an utter failure. Silent rage burned within him, as he wondered just how much had been taken from her, how many scars had been left on her heart. All of it happening right under his nose.

“You know you shouldn’t -”

“Heed those words?” She cut off his incensed voice, shaking her head, and turned to face him with a sad smile. “I know. I’m not the Chosen anymore, and those words don’t apply any longer. It’s just… hard. To let them go.”

Cupping her face with a hand, he heard her suck in a breath, leaning into his touch as if he would disappear at any moment, leaving her alone. “It’s alright, to want things,” he whispered, leaning closer and brushing his lips against her cheek. “To ask for things.”

“So…” Aligning his palm with hers, he pressed their foreheads together, sighing. “What is it that you want?”

The least he could do tonight was give her the chance to be selfish, for when had she ever been afforded it? Hoping that one day, she could learn to ask on her own.

Pulling away, chest heaving, she reached out a hand to tug at the hem of his shirt. Eyes shining, cheeks burning harder than even the flames, awkwardly stumbling over the words she uttered in a trembling voice, every one of them carrying a yearning that tugged at his heart. Testing the boundaries, ready to take a plunge. “I... I want… To remember what it feels like, to touch you. To know you’re still here...”

A simple request, yet one that set his heart pounding away, lips parting as the gravity of it all hit him.

“I’m sorry. That’s too much, isn’t it?” she muttered, averting her gaze in shame. “Even if we’re… I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” He’d never been more sure of anything, saying those words without a waver in his voice, not a single drop of hesitation in his heart. He understood. Her desire to be close, so close that perhaps they would merge into one, never having to fear being separated again. To carve the sensations of their embrace so deep into the surface of their hearts that it could never be forgotten.

That would never be possible. But, for just a few moments, it could be reality.

She watched, wordless, eyes wide as he swiftly pulled off his shirt, the fabric rustling to the ground to land in a pile. Shivering as air brushed his bare skin, wondering what it was that she saw as she stared at him.

“Lloyd…”

He couldn’t help the gasp that left him when she pressed her hand to his chest, the sudden warmth of her palm like a bolt of lightning striking his body, sending sparks running down every nerve. She stared up at him, blue eyes filled with a warm love that spread to him through her touch, leaving him ablaze.

Had she been this close before, the space between them barely existent as they fell into each other? Not since they were children, hugging without a care in the world, falling asleep together after sleepovers. The chasm he’d observed between them had been there for a long time - ever since he’d confessed his feelings, kissing her on the cheek, only to find her suddenly so far away, from a different world altogether. As Colette had distanced herself, already knowing what fate awaited her, wanting to spare him the pain of knowing she would never return.

Yet here she was now, closing the gap between them, unfurling her vulnerable heart and entrusting it in his hands. Her fingers danced across his skin with gentle care, making his breath hitch. Carefully exploring, as if she was crafting a detailed map of him, memorizing every inch of skin her fingers brushed against, painting the most beautiful of drawings with the most intricate of patterns, one that only she could decipher. Being especially careful with the raised scars on his skin, whether from unfortunate mishaps during training or monster encounters that had gone sideways, her touch lingering and not shying away.

Treating him like the most precious, beautiful treasure in the world, even though he’d never thought of himself as anything more than average. Her fingertips drifting, feather-light, down his side, leaving behind a trail of warmth in its wake. Reshaping him, putting him back together as he melted under her touch, knowing he was safe. Her cheeks flushed like she was drunk, the light of the flames bathing over her - a beautiful sight instantly seared into his memory, his heart overflowing.

Feeling like he was stuck in a trance, his own hand lifted, sliding up her arm to her shoulder to play with her hair, tumbling down her back like a waterfall, making her let out a sigh that echoed in his ears. The world narrowing to just her, so ethereal and lovely. A moment in time, just for the two of them, that seemed unreal, straight out of a dream - yet she was solid beneath his fingertips, not slipping away.

The splash of something cold and wet against his arm made him pause.

“Colette?” he gasped, shocked at the sight of the tears streaming down her face, whatever emotion she’d been desperately hiding now rearing its ugly head, having pushed free of its restraints.

“What…?” she trailed off with a shaky voice, trembling hands returning to her face to find it wet. “Oh,” she realised, falling silent.

“Did I… do something wrong?” He shifted backwards, fear snaking its way around his heart. Had he once again failed to glean what lurked under the surface? Had he pushed too far, accidentally hurting her? Should he…

“No!” With a desperate outburst, as if her heart would crack apart into two, she threw herself across the bed and into his arms, having raised instinctively to catch her. “Don’t go,” she pleaded, somehow having read his mind. Burying her face in his neck, she wrapped her arm around his midriff, her tears wetting his skin. “Please, don’t go.”

Cautiously, he lifted his arms to her shoulders, holding her close, uncertain if it truly was alright to remain. But she didn’t seem to want to leave, only holding him tighter as her sobbing intensified.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, stroking her hair.

“Sorry -”

“Don’t apologise,” he chided her softly, waiting. For as long as would be needed.

“I - It’s stupid,” she replied, muffled against him. “I’m so happy. But at the same time, I’m so afraid. That I’ll lose all of this again.”

Ah.

“I told myself I could never possibly forget the feeling of your hand in mine.” She turned to rest her cheek against him, eyes still firmly shut. “And yet, no matter how hard I tried, the memory faded so quickly.”

It’s always the happiest of memories that leave first, aren’t they?

She’d had everything slowly, cruelly ripped away from her, something that even years of preparation had not steeled her heart for. And now that she had experienced that pain, permanently branded onto her soul with a red-hot seal, she was hesitant to reach for what she desired, spending every second wondering if it would be stolen from under her fingertips again. Powerless to do anything to stop it.

“It’s not stupid,” he insisted once more, trying to push all his feelings into his voice. His wish to see her happy. “You went through what no one should have. Anyone would understand your fear.”

He tightened his hold on her shoulders, pulling away to look down upon her. The gentle light of the fireplace made her eyes shimmer like the brightest stars in the night sky.

“And I’ll make sure that never happens,” he said, lifting her hand. She stared, unmoving, lips parted. “Even if it does, I’ll make sure you return to us again. Just as I did before. I’ll do it again, as many times as needed. So there’s no need to worry.”

“Lloyd…”

Lifting her hand, he brushed his lips against her knuckles. “I promise,” he whispered against her skin as he pressed another kiss against her wrist, and then the inside of her arm, each eliciting a breathy whimper until he pressed his final one against her shoulder, his fingers tracing the same words against her palm.

A promise uttered a dozen times, to join all the rest he’d made to her, written on her skin when he couldn’t sleep and came to keep her soulless body company. Hopes, dreams, promises. All of which he intended to keep, to fight for with all that he had, no matter what awaited him in the future.

They lapsed into silence, her back resting against his front, his chin resting on her shoulder as they gently rocked back and forth. The warmth of the flames and each other keeping their hearts safe, her tears trickling to a stop as he brushed the final ones away.

“Lloyd?” she asked, angling her head to look up at him as she squeezed his hand. “Can I… stay here tonight? Just for tonight, if it’s not too much to -”

“It’s not,” he laughed, kissing her on the top of the head and letting her giggles fill his heart and make it soar. “Of course you can stay. Tonight, and as many nights as you want.”

And just like those sleepovers from a time long past, they settled down, still fitting together perfectly, Colette warm and safely tucked into his arms with the blanket pulled over the top of them.

Wishing her sweet dreams, he watched her drift off into dreamland, smiling all the while. One hand moving from playing with her hair to gently rubbing her cheek. What a beautiful sight her smile was - he hoped he’d get to see it again, every day and every night. A sight that would certainly be enough to usher in the most wonderful of dreams, as he drifted off himself, his arms wrapped securely around her.

Ready to face another day, one that would be filled with hope.

#fanfiction #one shot #colloydweek2022 #day 3: touch #tales of symphonia #colette brunel #lloyd irving #colloyd

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incredimatestudio · 22 days

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A Deep Dive into the Pros and Cons of 3D Animation Rigging in India

In the intricate tapestry of 3D Animation Studio in India, India emerges as a formidable player, weaving its indelible mark on the global stage of animation. At the heart of 3D animation lies 3d rigging services, an arcane process that breathes life into digital characters. In this labyrinthine discourse, we embark on an odyssey to unravel the enigmatic dynamics of 3D animation rigging in India, peeling back the layers to expose the nuances, intricacies, and paradoxes that define this captivating realm.

Advantages Unveiled:

Cost-Effectiveness

In the kaleidoscope of animation production, the allure of cost-effectiveness casts an iridescent glow upon the Indian landscape. Outsourcing 3D rigging services to India unveils a treasure trove of economic advantages, where the alchemy of competitive pricing and uncompromising quality converges. The Indian animation industry, with its judicious blend of affordability and excellence, emerges as a beacon of opportunity for international studios seeking to optimize their production budgets while reaping the rewards of unparalleled craftsmanship.

Skilled Artisans:

The beating heart of India's animation renaissance lies in its reservoir of skilled artisans and virtuosos. Within the labyrinthine corridors of animation studios, a symphony of talent and expertise resounds, as animators and 3d rigging specialists deftly wield their digital brushes to breathe life into pixels. Armed with a mastery of the latest tools and technologies, India's workforce stands as a testament to the country's unwavering commitment to excellence and innovation. The availability of such a skilled talent pool not only augments the allure of outsourcing but also ensures that animation rigging projects are executed with precision and finesse.

Exemplary Output:

In the ethereal realm of animation, quality reigns supreme as the arbiter of distinction. Indian animation studios, with their unwavering dedication to excellence, set the gold standard for quality output. The marriage of technical prowess and artistic finesse yields animations that are not merely pixels on a screen but living, breathing entities endowed with depth, fluidity, and emotive resonance. From the minutiae of facial expressions to the grandeur of cinematic landscapes, Indian 3d animation studios spare no effort in ensuring that each frame is a masterpiece unto itself, a testament to the boundless creativity and ingenuity that define the Indian animation renaissance.

Challenges Explored:

Communication Conundrums:

In the intricate dance of collaboration, communication serves as the linchpin that binds disparate elements into a harmonious whole. Yet, amidst the cacophony of creativity, the specter of communication barriers looms large. Despite the proficiency of Indian animators in the lingua franca of English, nuances of language and culture may pose unforeseen challenges in the realm of animation rigging. Misinterpretations, miscommunications, and misunderstandings, akin to siren songs luring unsuspecting voyagers astray, threaten to derail the seamless flow of creative collaboration, casting shadows upon the luminous landscape of animation production.

Temporal Turmoil:

In the labyrinth of globalization, time emerges as both ally and adversary, wielding its ephemeral tendrils to shape the contours of collaboration. The temporal tapestry of time zone differences, woven from the fabric of disparate geographies, presents a formidable challenge in the realm of animation outsourcing. For clients ensconced in distant realms, the chasm of temporal disparity may prove to be a yawning abyss, hindering real-time communication and impeding the fluid exchange of ideas. In this tumultuous terrain, the quest for synchronicity becomes a Herculean endeavor, fraught with the perils of delay and dissonance.

Conclusion

In the annals of animation history, India emerges as a phoenix, rising from the ashes of obscurity to claim its rightful place in the pantheon of animation excellence. The Indian animation industry, once a fledgling sapling, has burgeoned into a mighty oak, its branches stretching far and wide to embrace the global stage. The clarion call of creativity reverberates across the subcontinent, as studios and production houses proliferate, fueling an epoch of unprecedented expansion and innovation. From the verdant pastures of Mumbai to the bustling metropolises of Bangalore and Chennai, the Indian animation renaissance unfolds, a testament to the indomitable spirit of creativity and enterprise that courses through the veins of the nation.

#3d animation #animation #2d animation company in india #3d modling

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tomorrowedblog · 8 months

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Immortals of Aveum is out today

Immortals of Aveum, the new game from Ascendant Studios and Electronic Arts, is out today.

Welcome to Aveum, a world shaped by millennia of conflict and bloodshed. Its five kingdoms have been reduced to only two superpowers: Lucium and Rasharn. Between them lies the Wound, an infinitely deep chasm in the center of the world, its cracks dividing the kingdoms.

You’ll play as Jak, an unexpected Triarch Magnus - an Unforeseen - who is thrust into the midst of mankind’s endless war for the control of magic, known as the Everwar.

With powerful magic-wielders and legions of soldiers on both sides of the Everwar, Jak and the elite Order of Immortals must uncover the mysteries of Aveum’s troubled past, if there’s any hope for saving its future.

#Games #ImmortalsOfAveum #News

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rogueninja12 · 9 months

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Chapter 5: Navigating Loss and Longing Across Borders

As I embarked on my journey to pursue my masters in South Korea, it wasn't the allure of K-pop or K-dramas that drew me to this distant land. Instead, it was the presence of a dear friend, Haeni, who had grown close to me and my mother during our time in Kolkata. Her words of encouragement and the promise of new possibilities convinced me that this was the path I needed to take. And so, I found myself in a foreign country, carving a new life for myself, far from the turbulence of the past.

Life in South Korea was a revelation of newfound independence and the joy of camaraderie with like-minded individuals. Every day was a canvas to paint with learning, research, and personal growth. My connection with my mother remained strong, and I cherished the moments spent talking to her, making her laugh, and ensuring she was well taken care of.

But in the tapestry of life, moments of bliss often coincide with unforeseen tragedies. In 2019, I decided to surprise my parents with a spontaneous visit to Kolkata. My mom's reaction upon seeing me at the doorstep was a heartwarming sight - her smile and embrace were a treasure to behold. However, my excitement soon turned to disbelief when I received a text from my father's eldest daughter informing me of his untimely passing.

In a cruel twist of fate, my father had passed away the night I had arrived in Kolkata. The shock of his sudden departure left me in disbelief. I had missed the chance to meet him, to say the things I had wanted to say, to bid a final goodbye. His absence loomed heavily over my vacation, transforming it into a period of mourning and introspection.

I tried my best to support my mother during this difficult time, and she showed remarkable strength in coping with the loss. Yet, one day, I noticed her sitting beside the window, lost in her thoughts, and her eyes betrayed the pain she kept hidden. In my attempt to be an escapist, I took her out to a movie and dinner, hoping to lighten her spirits. But deep down, I knew that her heart was heavy with grief.

My mom found solace in the presence of my great aunt, who was a pillar of support during this period. I was grateful that she had someone to confide in, but the thought of leaving her behind once more weighed heavily on my heart. When it was time for me to return to South Korea, tears streamed down my face, and my body was filled with restlessness. The eight-hour flight back felt like an eternity, as I grappled with a physical and emotional storm - a panic attack, a manifestation of the anguish and longing that consumed me.

Back in South Korea, my concern for my mother intensified, and I longed to bring her to be with me. We began the process of renewing her passport, eager to reunite. However, as fate would have it, the world was soon engulfed by the COVID-19 pandemic, and everything came to a standstill.

Amidst the uncertainty and challenges posed by the pandemic, my heart ached for my mother, and the distance between us seemed insurmountable. Yet, in the midst of this turbulence, I clung to hope, knowing that love and determination could bridge even the widest chasms.

As I grappled with the ever-changing world, my thoughts oscillated between moments of joy and sorrow, resilience, and vulnerability. This chapter of my life served as a poignant reminder of the impermanence of existence and the strength required to navigate the unpredictable tides of fate. It was a chapter that forged the bonds of love and longing and one that would ultimately guide me towards an unwavering pursuit of connection and solace.

#life #healing #love #loss #grief #dealing with grief #journal #journey #hope #humanity #strength #resilience #empathy #support

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faithsballs · 11 months

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Cpter 3

However, such is the capricious nature of existence, where life's symphony unfolds with unforeseen twists. On an evening veiled in shadows, the ethereal realm of their love was pierced by a revelation that reverberated through their souls. Like a tempestuous tempest, Teddy divulged that his family had been bestowed with an extraordinary opportunity—a luminous gateway to a land of promise and untold horizons. A chance for a life imbued with newfound splendor, where dreams could be transformed into tangible reality. Meghan's heart, once filled with euphoria, now plummeted into an abyss of desolation as the weight of their predicament bore down upon her.

Rivulets of tears traced intricate patterns upon their countenances, mirroring the cascade of emotions that surged within their hearts. They grappled with the immutable decision that lay like a colossal monolith before them, threatening to shatter the very fabric of their love. Meghan, determined to cling fiercely to the tendrils of their connection, desperately clung to the hope that distance would not eviscerate their bond. Yet, Teddy, torn between the iridescent dreams that beckoned him and the love that kindled his heart, understood the pragmatic exigencies of their circumstances. In a bittersweet confluence of passion and reason, they reluctantly conceded that their paths must diverge.

With heavy hearts, they embraced the inevitability of their separation, accepting the implacable verdict that destiny had decreed. It was a decision laden with sorrow, like a poignant requiem echoing through their souls. Their love, once a beacon of radiant light, now flickered amidst the encroaching shadows of geographical disparity. Yet, as they embarked upon the labyrinthine journey of parting, a resolute flame of hope burned within them, kindling the belief that love could transcend even the mightiest of chasms.

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dhr-ao3 · 1 year

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Atonement

Atonement https://ift.tt/7sfzFqi by fairybell_lena In the turbulent fifth year of Hogwarts, the battle lines between good and evil have been drawn, with each person playing their part. At the center of it all are Draco and Hermione, bitter enemies with a chasm of mutual contempt, ingrained prejudices, and eternal rivalry between them. But when an unforeseen event shakes their world to its core, they are forced to question their beliefs and confront the possibility of change. Can people truly transform, or are they doomed to remain the same? Join me on this journey of self-discovery, redemption, and unexpected alliances in a world where nothing is as it seems. Although many works have already been written on this pairing, nevertheless, I want to create my own story and breathe life into these beautiful characters again. All people make unforgivable mistakes and become cynical, but we still continue to believe in the triumph of good over evil and in the all-forgiving, healing power of love. I really want to give Draco a chance for a decent future, but whether he will take advantage of it or not - time will tell. PS: I started this work a few years ago in my native language and I'm finally ready to give it another try. Words: 2347, Chapters: 1/?, Language: English Fandoms: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Categories: F/M Characters: Hermione Granger, Draco Malfoy, Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Lucius Malfoy, Narcissa Black Malfoy, Severus Snape, Blaise Zabini, Theodore Nott, Lavender Brown, Pansy Parkinson, Albus Dumbledore, Minerva McGonagall, Tom Riddle | Voldemort Relationships: Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Magical Realism, Slow Burn, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Angst via AO3 works tagged 'Hermione Granger/Draco Malfoy' https://ift.tt/YG15KfV April 09, 2023 at 08:37PM

#IFTTT #Dramione #Draco x Hermione

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thorne93 · 4 years

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Unforeseen Chasm Masterlist

Prompt: Two sisters fall for men that are absolute enemies. The love they have could tear all of them apart, or it could bring them together.

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 1

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 2

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 3

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 4

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 5

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 6

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 7

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 8

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 9

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 10

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 11

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 12

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 13

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 14

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 15

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 16

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 17

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 18

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 19

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 20

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 21

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 22

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 23

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 24

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 25

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 26

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 27

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 28

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 29

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 30

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 31

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 32

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 33

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 34

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 35

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 36

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 37

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 38

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 39

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 40

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 41

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 42

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 43

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 44

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 45

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 46

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 47

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 48

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 49

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 50

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 51

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 52

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 53

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 54

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 55

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 56

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 57

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 58

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 59

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 60

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 61

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 62

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 63

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 64

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 65

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 66

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 67

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 68

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 69

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 70

Unforeseen Chasm - Part 71 - FINAL

#unforeseen chasm #loki x reader #tony stark x ofc #loki #tony stark #marvel #mcu

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therealvinelle · 3 years

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How do you believe Carlisle feels about Esme? How would their break up go? Would he ever cheat on her? I mean like emotionally?

He loves her.

I don’t doubt that his feelings for Esme are genuine, that he respects and cherishes her and wishes to spend his life with her. Esme, too, worships the man.

My complete lack of faith in this ship comes from the fact that they’re together for the wrong reasons and not compatible.

The Bad Beginning

Carlisle had spent centuries searching for likeminded, he never did. In the end he succumbs and starts creating his own, first Edward and then Esme, and to his joy they both agree to do the diet.

Esme’s transformation was entirely an impulse on his end. He saw this delightful, vivacious young woman he’d known ten years ago lie broken and dying in the morgue, a Jane Doe declared dead, she was all too easy to steal. She was too far gone for him to have time to think it over, and so he went «alright let’s do this. I imagine it seemed rather like God had sent her to that morgue specifically. We learn from Midnight Sun that romance wasn’t on his mind at all (even if it was, that wouldn’t make their marriage more functional) and he expected nothing of her. He bit her because he didn’t want Esme Platt to die.

Esme, of course, wakes up into this new life under surreal, heavenly circumstances. Her child is still dead - but here is the mythic, pedestaled Dr. Cullen, now her savior and more wonderful than ever. To back myself up with the books:

Esme had already been in love with Carlisle—much to his shock—but not through any mystical, magical means. She’d met Carlisle as a girl and, drawn to his gentleness, wit, and otherworldly beauty, formed an attachment that had haunted her for the rest of her human years. Life had not been kind to Esme, and so it was not surprising that this golden memory of a good man had never been supplanted in her heart. After the burning torment of transformation, when she’d awakened to the face of her long-cherished dream, her affections were entirely his. (Midnight Sun, chapter Bloodtype)

Carlisle, on his end, hadn’t had the idea at all until Edward said “Dude, she’s into you, go for it.”

I’d been on hand to caution Carlisle about her unforeseen reaction. He’d expected that she would be shocked by her transformation, traumatized by the pain, horrified by what she’d become, much as I had been. He’d expected to have to explain and apologize, to soothe and to atone. He knew there was a good chance that she would have preferred death, that she would despise him for the choice made without her knowledge or consent. So the fact that she had been immediately prepared to join this life—not really the life, but to join him—was not something he was ready for.

He’d never seen himself as a possible object of romantic love before that moment. It seemed contrary to what he was—a vampire, a monster. The knowledge I gave him changed the way he looked at Esme, the way he looked at himself.

More than that, it was very a powerful thing, choosing to save someone. It was not a decision any sane individual made lightly. (sic)

I’m not entirely void of authorial intent - I get that this was supposed to be romcom where the cute nerdy guy has no idea the girl is interested.

But, what I see is that after centuries of being alone, never finding anybody who shared his values, Carlisle finally has these two people who share his ideals, the only two in the world. He’s had countless friends, but it never worked out because of that damn diet. But, now he has these two people, and one of them is a beautiful, kind, wonderful woman who’s in love with him.

I imagine falling for Esme was easy. It was just so perfect, simply by being Carlisle Cullen he could make her happier than any other man, and given their shared diet, he wanted her by his side always, just as he did Edward. And this was it for him, really, to Carlisle Cullen Esme might as well be the only woman in the world because she’s the only one who'll share his lifestyle. He also felt responsible for her.

I don’t at all doubt their sincerity or affection for one another.

However, they did not fall for each other for each other’s sakes. Esme fell for the ideal since childhood, and Carlisle fell because she was perfect. Stick them in an AU and it won’t happen.

The Slippery Slope

Where they run into trouble is firstly that Esme doesn’t share these ideals, nor value human life for its own sake. Now, I’m not asking her to be a saint - but over the course of these books we had some lapses that I find pretty damning.

She wanted Edward back in Forks, when this would almost certainly mean the death of Bella Swan, simply because to Esme having Edward nearby > a person’s life. This wasn’t the case for Carlisle, he made it extremely clear he wanted Edward to leave.

During the “Kill Bella?” vote, she was in favor of whatever meant Edward would stay.

Carlisle, having failed to get anywhere with talking sense into Edward, sends him home to his mother for an intervention. What happens next is that Esme gives Edward her blessing to eat the delicious girl if he wants to. Now, we can’t know specifically the talk Carlisle and Esme had before this, but I can’t imagine it was this. Also, damn, what a miscommunication.

Esme simply doesn’t have a problem with the deaths of individual humans, and she will put her loved ones above all other things, even if it’s a minor inconvenience. Keeping Bella alive only becomes her priority after Edward makes it clear he wants this.

Now, Carlisle’s standards have been worn down over the centuries, he just wants his family to try not to eat people on purpose, that’s how low the bar is. Tragically for his marriage, Esme is stumbling over said bar.

The further trouble they run into is that I don’t think they’re very compatible people.

Esme means well, but she’s peculiar, to put it extremely nicely. Her ambition in life is to LARP the human life, right down to being a master chef of something her species can’t eat, which could be sweet if she did other things. She doesn’t, the closest she gets is designing homes for her family. There’s being single-minded, and then there’s Esme, who appears to have honed herself into someone who exists only to be the housewife.

This leads to bizarre behavior - for instance in Midnight Sun when Edward has realized he’s in love, he sits around laughing to himself like a lunatic while playing the piano. Something happens with Rosalie, who runs out of the house in humiliation. Esme, responding to all this, gives her infamous “the best and brightest of us all” pep talk.

It’s just such a weird scene, even accounting for the inhumanity of Twilight vampires this is weird.

Mostly, thought, it is Esme’s interests and desires in life that I find so at odds with Carlisle’s. She wants to be an improved human, living the shinier, better, life without actually embracing the inhumanity of vampirism, while Carlisle is doing the human thing because he wants to be a doctor and save lives. Before that, he was travelling the world, living with normal vampires, using his eternity to study and pursue meaning in life. Now, they end up in the same place, with similar goals - wanting to blend in with humans - but the motivation is the polar opposite.

Which in turn means that as the world turns and their lives inevitably change, the way they live will have to change. This will spell trouble.

There’s also me having a strong suspicion these two don’t have much of a physical relationship, if any. Meyer specifically referred to their relationship as spiritual, and that fits the vibe we get from them in the books. Quite notably, Rosalie and Emmett were impossible to be around when they were newlyweds, while Carlisle and Esme weren’t a problem at all.

Not to mention what Esme longed for all those years was very much an ideal of a man, which to me doesn’t immediately point to a very physical attraction.

The Penultimate Peril

Would he cheat on her, you ask. Answer is yes, they’re both cheating emotionally with Edward. No.

He’s with her because he wants to be, and feels responsible for her. More, developing the kinds of feelings necessary for an emotional affair isn’t really on the table for him, since everyone else in the world is either a. one of his kids or the Denali, b. an unrepentant man-eating demon. So, unless Tanya’s feeling frisky, Carlisle doesn’t have anybody to cheat with.

(I’m here defining an emotional affair, which as I understand it is a bit hard to define, as a romantic, but non-physical entanglement. The cheating party has to know their partner wouldn’t be cool with it for it to count in my eyes.)

As for physically cheating on her, nope. God no, not ever. Unless something really convoluted like the plot of Blue Moon unfolded, but that’s really more a case of Esme pimping out her husband to her daughter-in-law, so everyone’s to blame here.

The end

I think the breakup can happen in any number of ways, but I think either way it will be sudden.

These two aren’t going to go “you know, I think we’ve grown apart” because Esme would never acknowledge that nevermind walk up to Carlisle and say it, and if Carlisle realized things aren’t working he’d still want to stick it out for her sake.

I think it’ll be sudden, it’ll happen as the immovable object that is them is hit by an unstoppable force. One will go someplace the other can’t follow. Maybe when the Cullen coven splits down the middle, and they’re on each their own side of the chasm, or maybe some other cause entirely.

It’ll devastate them both, but given the people these two are, I think it’s inevitable.

#carlisle cullen #esme cullen #carlisle/esme #twilight #twilight meta #twilight renaissance #hope you all think the header theme was as funny as i did #a series of unfortunate events aka-#Anonymous #ask

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itsclydebitches · 3 years

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If only Ironwood would have fixed the hole in the wall then none of this would have happened! A river of grimm can't get past a intact wall obviously.

This is literally what the “Grimm Geyser is all Ironwood’s fault” arguments sound like. I have yet to see an argument that is a) logical and b) internally consistent, let alone both.

“Ironwood should have fixed the wall when he had a chance.”

You really think a wall is going to stop the grimm soup capable of throwing itself all the way up to Atlas?

“Ironwood should have had people on the perimeter of the kingdom to catch this coming.”

He did. We’re told in Volume 7 that Salem’s forces took all those defenses out.

“Ironwood should have at least had people in the tundra/Mantle to spot it.”

This thing was moving beneath the ground. We saw it beginning to create the chasm two episodes ago. Once it was visible, JRY were in the tundra to see it, they did immediately alert others... and it didn’t change anything. But if Ironwood's men had been there instead they would have somehow managed more? Do we have that much faith in Ironwood’s forces, or is it just convenient to blame him for this unforeseen horror?

“Ironwood should have called for help sooner.”

You mean what he was attempting to do all last volume? Unite the world around Salem? It’s not his fault he’s not a main character and thus Amity didn’t magically finish itself for him.

“Atlas is a sitting duck. Ironwood should have moved it.”

..........like how he’s wanted to move it the whole time? And is prevented from doing so by Ruby?

“Ironwood should have protected the underside of Atlas.”

THAT has some merit. That’s a legitimate criticism... but I still think it’s expecting way too much. Ironwood knows grimm can fly, so he keeps all the towers inside the shield and the shield keeps all grimm out. Ironwood knows some grimm can burrow, but they can’t reach Atlas without being able to fly. Based on their knowledge of grimm, there’s nothing that poses a danger to Atlas based on how its defenses are currently designed. Even if there is something, he’s also living during a time where resources are scarce... so is he really going to “waste” that many protecting the underside of a city when, as far as he can tell, that part really doesn’t need protection? In what world is Ironwood going to go, “Well, maybe someday I’ll learn that Salem has access to a grimm river that can shoot itself all the way up to Atlas and then become individual grimm, giving the one species capable of circumventing our defenses access it never would have had before. Anything could happen! I’d best take the resources I don’t have to be prepared for things that, until an episode ago, absolutely no one thought was possible...”

“Ironwood should have just been omniscient, capable of foreseeing every crazy thing Salem throws at him, with unlimited resources so that he can single-handedly solve the currently unsolvable. Then he should have given up all his power because it’s horrifying for someone like him to wield it and he should tell the world that Ruby saved them all because she’s the real, optimistic hero here.”

Okay, at least this one is honest.

#rwby #rwby spoilers #rwby volume 8 #mymetas #SALT #Anonymous

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eyebrowluv · 3 years

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Continuation of this:

https://eyebrowluv.tumblr.com/post/649481688555175936/you-know-i-always-thought-that-would-be-us-one

Meeting Erwin halfway turned out to be easier said than done. It was a perfect storm of unforeseen circumstances.

When Levi decided to call Erwin back a few days later, he was getting ready to board a flight for a business retreat that Levi had forgotten about. Erwin would have very little access to his phone for the better part of a week, and Levi felt that this chasm between them was best crossed while face to face.

The day that Erwin was set to return, Levi got a call from his mother stating that his uncle was in the hospital. So, this time, when Erwin was calling to let him know he was now home, Levi was picking up his rental car two states away. He spent almost every waking moment with his mother at the hospital until his uncle was released four days later. The food poisoning had not been fun, but Kenny was going to be fine, and Kuchel and Uri got some new grey hair from the worry.

When Levi returned home, he was unable to reach Erwin, so he went out to get dinner and some fresh groceries. As he was leaving the grocers, he caught a glimpse of Erwin leaving the restaurant across the street. And he wasn’t alone. Hanging off his arm was Marie, and she had been trying to get Erwin to go out with her for months.

Levi froze in place as he watched her giggle at something Erwin said and lean into Erwin as they walked along.

He was too late.

Erwin had finally given up on him and moved on.

Levi’s heart shattered.

#eruri #erwin smith #levi ackerman #snk #eruri fanfic

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jubilantwriter · 3 years

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Of Blood and Static

Chapter 6: These writings on paper are all I have of you.

(AO3) (First) (Previous) (Next)

Word Count: 7558

////

The Lady is aware of the loops. She's aware of how the struggle seems endless - no matter how desperately she clings to the hands of those she loves, they're always forced from her grasp as she watches them fall fall fall fall fall each time.

They always fall.

Over and over, be it by her hand or some unforeseen force.

Always always always always always.

The girl in the raincoat falls.

Mono falls.

Even RK falls.

And she's left having to witness them each time.

The loops continue even as a new member joins the fray, and she's left wondering if dragging him into this mess was worth it, if it was worth trying to break the loops in a fruitless attempt of escape. They can never escape - haven't they learnt this as children already? The forces that control this world will always win out, and they will always remain trapped no matter how desperately they struggle.

She's aware of the loops. How she's always the last of them to die. Each repetition takes its toll on her. She never breaks as a child, not yet fully aware of the weight of the loops to succumb and break down when she sees her friends, but aware enough that she clings to their hands when she sees them, feels an uncontrollable urge to protect them and never let go.

The girl in the raincoat falls after the Pretender lunges at her, despite all that Six does to try and keep her alive.

She lets Mono fall after a hopeless feeling strikes her core, and she knows that dropping him is the only option she has.

And she watches as RK falls to his death as an adult, no matter how much she reinforces the railings, no matter how much she tries to race or teleport after him to try and catch him.

She's aware of the loops. Aware that the tragedies continue to build and build and build despite all their struggling. The girl in the raincoat dies, leaving behind the raincoat that Six inherits. Mono becomes the Thin Man, relegated to helping from behind the screen and retainer of all their memories. RK becomes the Caretaker, doomed to die in an accident before he reaches his true potential.

And she is forced to watch it all happen, powerless to truly stop anything.

She is aware of the loops.

She stands in front of a television screen, wishing it would turn on. She wants to hear his voice again. She wants to know how he sounds as an adult. But she can't. His loop has already ended, and she can't reach out to him until the next one has reached its midlife. Still, it doesn't stop her from placing her hand on the screen and wishing that it would turn on.

The Caretaker had already fallen earlier in the day. She'd almost grabbed his hand before he slipped away, mere centimeters away from her own hand. He'd fallen with a terrified expression, a look of realization that all his struggling to stay alive was for naught as the Maw jerked and jolted to keep him from taking any more steps forward in their plan. She left his body where it laid - her one vase was already filled up with his ashes, and anyway, she could feel her time running out soon enough.

Her loop ends in blood and blood and blood. When she looks up at her younger self, mouth covered in viscera, she can see so much of her own pain reflected back at her.

"I'm sorry," she gasps out, the child looking more and more confused as she stares down at the Lady. A boy in blue grabs her hand, dragging her away from the Lady as she lies there dying alone. She closes her eyes and imagines a world where her hands are never cold.

She's aware of the loops.

But she's not the only one aware.

She opens her eyes, and Mono is running by her side, his paper bag still on his head. Before she can say a word, he tugs her into a room that is empty of life. They take a moment to rest, having little to worry about in the moment now that they have no one chasing them. Mono looks around the room, taking in the strange paraphernalia littered around it. A small statue sits on the ground, and he grabs it, dragging it to Six. Six takes it wordlessly, a familiar destructive feeling surfacing up from... somewhere.

She picks it up and throws it on the ground, shattering the statue with relish. When she turns to Mono with a smile, he's got his attention focused on the scattered posters on the ground. He takes one, looks it over, and folds it up to put in his pocket. She takes his hand and gives it a little shake, nodding to the posters and then to him.

He presses a finger to the front of his bag. It's a secret. Frowning, she bends down to pick up a poster herself, but he gets in the way and shakes his head. Not yet. But soon. He pats his pocket and points to himself, and then to her. He'll tell her soon enough. She takes his word for it, nods as they continue to search the room.

Events continue, and she finds herself dangling Mono over the chasm beneath them. He looks up at her with sad, sad brown eyes as she cries. Don’t make her do this, don’t make her do this-

"Six," he whispers, because they're not used to speaking normally yet, and perhaps they never will, "it's okay."

"No," she gasps, and her tears fall faster when he smiles up at her. Her arm hurts, and he’s already starting to slip from her grasp. "Don't make me do this, please."

"It's okay, I won't be mad. I even left a surprise in your pocket." When she doesn't let go, he yanks his own hand from her grasp with that sorrowful smile. She yells and reaches for him again, but he's already gone gone gone into the abyss, leaving her to leave by her lonesome. When she makes it to the exit, she checks her pocket just as her Hunger already begins rearing its ugly head.

A poster for the Maw. Nothing as special as she'd imagine it would be.

"Turn it over," her Shadow whispers, and so she does.

A doodle of an ugly man in a boat with a face that sags and stretches until all that is visible are the long holes that could be his eyes. And then the words written in a rushed, childish scrawl:

"Ask him to come back."

She's aware of the loops.

But she's not the only one aware.

The Caretaker carries around a notebook. When she first asked about it, he'd shyly put it away and waved her away, saying it was full of notes he'd written down. She'd shrugged it off, having other tasks to attend to. It wasn't until after she (re)introduced him to the Thin Man that he revealed what it was he was carrying around.

Items on the Maw carry over from previous loops. It's how the television stays in place, it's how her library remains untouched and the same no matter how often she dies. The only things that change are the faces of the Guests and children.

...Well, for the most part.

The Caretaker pulls her aside after her conversation with the Thin Man ("Did you see my note?" "Of course I did." "Will he come back?" "He said when the time is right."), and holds out the notebook. "I'm sorry I didn't share this with you before but," he flips through the notebook, showing off page after page of scribbles and doodles, charts and diagrams, "I wanted to wait for the right time to show this to you."

She takes the notebook out of his hands and realizes. Realizes that this was one of the many things on the Maw that carried over from previous loops. The Caretaker is one of them now, and as a result...

"These hold your memories," she breathes out.

"Well, not quite, but close enough." He takes it back, thumbing through each page carefully. "Reading each word reminds me of something, but I can never quite grasp it. Still," he taps at a diagram showing the outside of the Maw from the top down, "it looks like I've been planning this for ages. This shows potential docking areas away from where the Guests usually board. It gives me an idea."

"Just an idea?"

"It's something we can work with." He shrugs while grinning blithely. "And frankly, I think we all could use something to work with."

Of course, even after that one little spark of hope, the Thin Man still dies at the hands of Mono. The Caretaker falls before her very eyes, bones snapping and head cracking on the cold, unwelcoming floor of the Maw. And as she sits in her loneliness, humming her familiar tune, she waits for that bright, yellow raincoat to pounce upon her.

She is aware of the loops.

But how much longer can she take before she stops trying altogether?

She is aware of the loops.

They scratch at her memories, drag her around like a toy, and her Shadow continues to watch and remember in her stead until they're one once again.

She is aware of the loops.

Aware that they've done this song and dance over and over again with no end. She doesn't understand how Mono can keep this up. How RK continues to go along with this horrible reality, as if he's always been a part of their team. Is he just as single-minded as Mono? They truly would get along so well if that were the case.

Six stays where she's lying on the ground, Mono hopping around on the piano beside her.

"Six, come help me."

"I'm tired." Despite their journey having only lasted the day thus far, she's already feeling this deep-seated weariness that she can't place. Mono must sense it too, for he stops hopping around and lands on the ground next to her. He sits besides her, tangling their fingers together and humming the tune from her music box.

Something about it makes her want to sob. But that's stupid. Sobbing in a place like this is stupid. It's what gets them caught by monsters - the noise, the weakness, the vulnerability. In fact, she should be getting up right now so that they can continue moving.

Mono rubs his thumb into her hand, humming to her as she lies on the ground.

"We can stay here for a little bit."

"Thanks." He doesn't move from where he sits, and she's grateful for it. "Can we just stay here? It's quiet, and no monster can get in here easily."

"It's not that safe." Mono looks away from her and sees something that she can't see. "But there's somewhere else we can go. Somewhere where there are no monsters, and we can laugh and run all we want. I'm sure we'll get there soon enough."

"How soon?" She's tired. So. Very. Tired. "I want to sleep."

"Soon," he says, and he holds out his hand for a pinky promise. "But until then, I promise I won't leave you alone."

"Good." She hooks her pinky with his and gives it a firm shake. "I'll bite you if you do."

A silent laugh shakes his frame, and she can't help but smile up at him. She wants to stay like this with him, where he can be happy and she can be happy and they can be happy together, like it's normal to be happy.

But they're not meant to be happy. Happy means letting their guard down. Happy means forgetting that they're in constant danger. She's reminded of this when they're cowering in a child's room, and the Thin Man holds his hand out and grabs her. A monster with gentle, gentle hands.

The world is cruel, with their moments of tantalizing happiness and monsters with gentle hands. The world is cruel, because it lets her believe that there's a happy ending somewhere if she just tries hard enough. But maybe that's where her failure lies.

In believing that her efforts are worth something, when really her efforts amount to nothing.

She presses a hand up against the glass. It doesn't turn on, but that's okay. She's gotten used to the loneliness long, long ago.

"What happened to promising to never leave me alone?"

No one answers her.

Her life amounts to standing in a puddle of blood, surrounded by the sounds of broken static.

The loop ends as it begins, and she closes her eyes with the hopes of never opening them again.

She is aware of the loops.

Every bit of her wants to give up, to succumb and let herself mindlessly follow the flow of tragedy, but her stubborn, stupid, terrible friends refuse to give up. Sometimes, she wishes she never introduced them to each other, what with their antics giving each other hope. But then something warm shakes her from her thoughts. The Caretaker takes her hand and tugs her up topside of the Maw. It's overcast, and the threat of rain looms overhead. She closes her eyes and lets the cold air wash over her.

It reminds her of the Pale City.

"We're so close," he says, fingers intertwining with hers. "We just need one more thing."

"What kind of thing?" Rarely is she able to help. Instead, she asks all these empty questions that do nothing but serve as a vessel for their thoughts. It's the least she can do, when all she does is let them fall.

"I need... to find a place. Away from all the adults, away from all the monsters." He taps his chin, deep in thought as the clouds shadow their faces. "But surprisingly, your library lacks maps of any sorts."

"Unfortunately." She stares out into the vast sea. Not a single landmass in sight. Given that they just recently picked up their latest batch of Guests, it comes as no surprise to her that the Maw has steered itself so far away from any coastlines. "The ship goes as it pleases, after all."

"And it doesn't surface often." He tugs on her hand to swing it back and forth. How childish of him. "I thought maybe standing out in the open would cheer you up."

"What do you mean?"

"You've been... incredibly down lately." A thoughtful hum. "Lifeless. You glide around the Maw, attending to every sort of business but your own. Even when you talk to the Thin Man on those few occasions, I hardly hear you say a word. He's noticed too, you know." She can't help the little twitch she makes at the mention of the Thin Man's concern. "He's worried about you. Says that you've been getting more and more quiet."

Of course he noticed. "It's nothing to worry about."

"I don't think so." The Caretaker squeezes her hand lightly with a smile. So much like his title, it's hard to see him as an adult. How did he end up so normal? "We'll get through this, dear Lady. It's only a matter of time."

"How lucky are we then, to have so much of it?" The waves start to breach the ground they stand on, and she begins dragging him back to the door. "Though it seems our time here is up."

He looks around, taking in the sight of the sky before she closes the door on the outside. "Only for now. Someday, we'll see those blue skies I read about in storybooks. The blue skies from your favorite stories."

"Hmm." She doesn't say anything more as she takes him deeper into the Maw, away from railings as they continue on their day.

He dies six days later in a bloodied heap on the floor.

She kneels by his body, fingers carding through his hair as she hums her familiar tune, his head in her lap as she waits for the time to pass.

Soon, her time will be up and she'll have her moment of rest.

Her loop ends at the hands of a girl in a yellow raincoat, and she wonders if the girl knows just what kind of living hell she's walked into?

She tires of the loops.

The awareness stings at the corners of her mind as she's strung upside down, the feeling so hopelessly familiar that she wonders if being captured is the only thing she's good at. The Bullies cackle beneath her, but the mocking only lasts so long until a familiar grunt is heard, and the sound of breaking porcelain echoes in the bathroom. She's dropped unceremoniously from where she's strung up, and when she comes to, a familiar boy in a paper bag offers his hand to her.

When she takes his hand, she lets all of her weariness flop her around, and the boy has to support her until she gets her bearings. Silently, he takes her hand and drags her around until they find a room with a piano. She half expects him to start jumping on it (it's obvious that they need to use it to break the floor beneath it), but instead, he sits her down and... lets her breathe.

"Are you okay?" he asks.

"No." She hugs her knees to her chest and rests her face against them. "Tired."

"...Yeah." He doesn't say anything more and lets the silence reign between them. It lasts for a total of two minutes before he pipes up again. Mono was never really good at keeping quiet like this, after all. "What do you wanna do if we ever get out of the City?"

"Dunno," she says, eyes drifting close. She's so tired. "Maybe find a soft bed. Sleep forever."

"Sleeping forever sounds... kind of nice." Still, he shakes his head, and the paper bag crinkles with his movement. She crinkles her nose in response and flicks his bag. He makes an affronted noise, which is enough to make her giggle. "Meanie. But okay, but like, what would you do after you slept? Like, what would you do when you wake up?"

"Dunno," she repeats. It's not really a thought process she tends to follow. "Eat? Maybe do something fun. Like kick a ball around. Or lie in the grass. Maybe read a book." She pauses for a moment, looking up at the ceiling as though she can see it. "What would you do?"

"Hmm." He lies beside her and folds his hands on his stomach. "I want to see the sun. Did you know there's something called the sun? It's supposed to be bright and warm and dry."

She ponders his comment. Has she ever seen the sun before? Probably not. "Where'd you hear about that?"

"I think the Teacher was scribbling about it on the board when I was sneaking around. It's supposed to be hot and full of gas." He gestures aimlessly in the air. "I bet if she could talk, she'd say like, only good students get to see the sun, so they better study good or else! And then she’ll whack a desk with her ruler."

"Ew." Six crinkles her nose in disgust this time. "I hope her ruler breaks."

"Yeah, she probably breaks them all the time. She's just a big ol’ meanie."

"All monsters are mean."

"You're right." They grow quiet together, listening to the pitter patter of the rain before Mono suddenly sits up. "Oh! I found this in one of the rooms I was trying to get through." He searches through one of his stupidly big pockets (seriously, how does he fit an entire collection of hats in his pockets?) and pulls out a folded piece of paper. He unfolds it, and unfolds it, and unfolds it...

She snatches it out of his hands and shakes it open impatiently.

"Hey!" He snatches it back out of her hands and holds it carefully. "Don't do that!"

"You were taking forever." She rolls her eyes and helps him straighten out the huge sheet. The top and bottom are torn messily as the paper feels oddly fake and like a weird kind of plastic. On it is a large, red scribbled eye that takes up most of the paper, but beneath that eye are shapes that she's never really seen before. She points to one shape and frowns. "Someone doesn't know how to draw a triangle."

"That's not a triangle, silly." Mono straightens out the paper and points at all the different shapes on it. "I think this is a map!"

"A map?"

"Yeah, it's supposed to show you all sorts of different places." His finger traces all the shapes on the map, humming to himself as he does so. "If we're gonna leave the Pale City, we gotta figure out where we should go from here."

"Where's here?"

"Um..." Mono squints at the map, but the entire thing is a mess of lines with red scribbles and confusing markings. He sighs with defeat. "I dunno. There's no words on it."

"So how do we know where we are?"

"...We don't."

"...That's okay. Maps are dumb anyways."

Despite her words, they both stare at the map in silence. Six begins tracing over the shapes herself, wondering where each place could be, and how long it would take to walk there. She points to a lonely blob in the middle of the ocean and wonders who lives there, and if they're just as lonely as the blob. "What do you think is here?" she asks softly, gaining Mono's attention.

"Hmm..." He taps his chin, making the paper bag rustle with his movement. "Maybe more kids? And no adults."

"No monsters."

"Clean water."

"And food everywhere."

"Maybe even toys!"

"Balls?"

"And blankets and pillows!"

"Music boxes..."

"Lots and lots of music boxes." Six glances over at Mono, and even though his paper bag obscures his face, she knows he's smiling at her. "I bet they all play different songs too."

"That'd be nice." She smiles back as Mono begins folding up the map. He folds it and folds it and folds it until the large sheet manages to be pocket-sized, despite how bulky it becomes. After a bit of consideration, he hands it over to Six.

"You take it."

"Why?"

"So that you can pick where we go once we get past the Signal Tower!"

"But I don't have any pockets."

"Huh." He looks over at her shorts and cardigan and realizes that she's right. "We should find you something with pockets."

"Yeah." She watches as he pockets the map and stands up, offering her a hand up. Once she grabs it, he easily pulls her up as they look over at the piano.

"Guess we should start going, huh?"

"Yeah."

It was nice while it lasted.

They continued their journey, Six getting her raincoat along the way. Somehow, when she wasn't paying attention, Mono must have slipped the map into her pocket. He probably meant it as a surprise, maybe a last minute, "Watch this, a magic trick!" sort of gimmick to make her smile that he never got to use. After all, she dropped him to his doom. She'd forgotten all about the map, too focused on growing into her role as the Lady that when she'd packed away the yellow raincoat, she'd almost missed the strange bulge in the pocket.

Taking it out was surprisingly difficult. It amazed her that she never noticed the tightly folded up sheet until now. However, she had little use for it - the Maw steers itself, and therefore, she never needed to learn how to read maps.

But.

She knew someone who could make use of it.

Quietly, as she walks past him, she presses the wadded up map into the palm of his hand, so small that it’s impossible to see being passed along the two of them. The Caretaker didn't so much as glance at her, closing his fist around it immediately and shuffling off to his own quarters. There was little she could do with the map, but with what he'd shown her of his notes from previous loops... maybe... just maybe...

The Maw laughs at her with its mocking groans as her hope quickly turns to despair. As it turns out, she'll never know what he figured out with that map this loop. Having any sort of hope means that any sort of means can be used to squash it before it can bloom. And who else to pay for her crime than the man who gave it to her in the first place?

He barely even shares a single conversation with the Thin Man before she finds him toppling over into the drop between the Janitor’s workspace and the kitchen, meathooks dangling above and below him as the Maw careens yet again into another obstacle. All because he wanted to chat with one of the Chefs on their break, standing so close to the edge that she should have known better but instead was too busy watching the other Chef prepare their meals.

So of course she hears his scream too late, the Chef’s startled cry echoing her own as he too fails to grab the Caretaker’s hand. Crashes and bangs ring out as both Chefs hold her back, keeping their Lady from following the same fate as she screams for him over the ledge. It’s one of the few times she can’t find his body no matter how hard she searches. The Thin Man could only do so much to comfort her before he too disappeared from her company.

And again, she was left alone. Always so alone.

She waits for her loop to end, only for it to begin just as quickly the minute she closes her eyes. All she wants is a break. A small reprieve. But even that is too much to ask.

Events played out as they should. Little divergences are made here and there, but nothing so drastic that it feels like it matters. A hand is pressed against the warm glass of a television. Quietly, she asks, "Why do we keep doing this?"

He answers back, "So that we may have a future where we can all smile together."

And she asks him, "Didn't you want to quit long ago?"

And he responds, "Didn't you want these to continue long ago?"

And she laughs. Cries a little when she replies, "How the roles have reversed."

His head bows. "I'm sorry."

Her fingers curl. "Don't be."

So he asks, "Why did you want them to continue so long ago?"

To which she explains, "I thought it was our only method of survival." A pause. "I was wrong."

"Not entirely," he says. "As terrible as they were, it made me realize something."

"What was it?"

"I wanted more than just survival, to live to see another pointless, repetitive day." His head tilts back up, making her believe that he's looking at her as he speaks with the words on the screen. "I wanted us to be free."

"That's quite different from my reasoning."

"A bit." She can see him lean back in his seat with his hands folded in his lap. "But sometimes, it makes me wonder if our reasons are really that much different from each other."

"Perhaps," she says with no follow up. The two of them stay in silence, basking in the other's presence. She misses holding his hand. Her forehead presses against the screen, porcelain mask clinking delicately against it. "I want to see you again."

"Soon," he soothes, because that's all he can do.

Their conversation ends with a flurry of static as the Thin Man is taken away by the Signal Tower to do some tasks. Her sigh is heavy as she turns away from the screen. "Soon" is such a finicky word, she decides. It's been used so often that she thinks that it no longer means "a short wait". How often has he told her "soon", only to have her suffer through loop after loop?

(Though, didn't she used to do the same to him?)

A blue blur barrels into her as she makes her rounds, interrupting her thoughts as hands grasp her arms.

"Lady," the Caretaker says breathlessly, "there's something I need to tell you."

"Did you read something about vegetables again? I told you, I'm not eating them-"

"No- though, we still need to have a talk about that at a later time but- it's something more... groundbreaking." His hands splay out in the air with dramatic fanfare before taking her hand, tugging her along in a manner that has her gripping his tightly. They travel down the halls at a brisk pace, shuffling past Guests that lumber aimlessly through the passages until they take a quick turn into the back paths of the Maw. He thumps towards the engine room, veering off into a secluded area that has the nomes shuffling past him anxiously once they see her in tow. A little side room is uncovered as he pulls open a loose panel and steps into it. Inside is... a map. With a large red eye scribbled over it. Lines and words are written in black to stand out against the red drawing, arrows pointing this way and that, X's made to mark specific areas, and scribbles scratching out areas unwanted. Little writings litter the map, notes made of certain areas until her eyes are drawn to a teeny, tiny island circled excitedly in black ink.

("What do you think is here?")

"Caretaker?"

"Six, look." He drops the title as he points at the island with a bright grin. "I found it. A place that's devoid of any life!"

"...Sounds peachy."

"I mean- I mean there's no one who lives there. It's deserted, out of reach, completely uninhabited." He picks up a pen and circles some notes and draws arrows leading back to the island. "My notebook tells me about these... these conversations with someone named the Ferryman. There's not a lot about him, but from what my notebook has recorded, he doesn’t seem like a horrible person. He cares about the children and wants them to be safe. Granted, he tends to drop them off here, but the notebook says he’s nice, if a bit weird. It also seems like he knows his way around the ocean. I'd say he might even know where this island is."

"I know of him.” Memories of being dragged aboard a wooden rowboat repeat in her mind as the saggy faced boatman stays silent during their trip. She never saw him again after that. “I can only assume it'd be near impossible to reach him."

"Not for me. Not for the Caretaker." A nome wanders over to them, allowing the Caretaker to bend down and pick them up. He cradles them in his arms as he looks at the Lady expectantly. "I take care of the children. I ensure they remain safe and relatively alright. If he were to entrust the children to someone, he'd have to entrust them to me."

Slowly, she makes the connection. "You've met him before."

He nods, holding the nome closer to his chest. "And according to my notebook, countless times before. It looks like there's a meeting spot somewhere on the Maw where he drops off any children he finds in his journeys. If I meet him there, I can ask about the island. It'd be a place where children can not only survive, but thrive." A glance is shared between the two of them before they focus on the map before them. "Somewhere where no child will have to step foot inside the Maw."

"...Or be taken to the Tower."

The Caretaker nods solemnly. "I had to tell you this soon, before my time runs out."

She turns abruptly to him as he shares a sad smile. "What do you mean?"

"You know what I mean." He puts down the nome and takes out his notebook. Thumbing through the pages, he hardly looks up as he speaks. "Each time a discovery is made, the entry stops there. Nothing continues until I pick it up again. Each day is marked with a tally, see? Even if I have nothing of note, I always mark down the day." He brings it towards her face to see the little tally marks that line the borders of the pages. "Each new start begins when I find the notebook, and I start to dig. Not a lot of time spans between start and finish. It didn't take me long to figure out why."

"...RK-"

"If my guesses are correct, I think I’m going to die soon."

"RK, please-"

"Six." He stows away his notebook and gently takes her hands. When had she started wringing them? "Listen to me."

She stills, all of her attention on him as she memorizes as much as him as she can. How his bangs still fall over his eyes no matter how often she trims them for him. How his gaze always tends to look sleepy until he's around something that demands his attention. How his feet are covered in calluses because he forgets to wear his geta frequently after a life of running barefoot as a child. How the scarring on his right leg remains prominent after all these years even after they managed to get that awful manacle off his leg.

She memorizes all this and more. Like how his hair looks when it's coated with blood. Or how his eyes glaze over as they loll in his head. Or how the blue of his haori both blends and clashes with the red soaked up from his broken body, a shade she still struggles to put a name to despite seeing it so often.

RK squeezes her arms, drawing her out of her head. Quietly, he removes her mask and gently dabs at her cheeks. Ah, she forgot she can still do that.

"It's going to be okay."

"No it's not." Her mind spirals at the thought of having to watch him fall again. How many times does she have to watch him fall? "You know you're going to die, how is that okay?"

"Because." He presses his forehead against hers, solid and reassuring. "It gives us some time."

"For what?"

"To make sure we don't waste whatever moments I have left."

She closes her eyes as she focuses on his warmth. "What do you need of me?"

"I just need you to leave this bottle at one of the drop sites for the Ferryman." He pulls away just enough to retrieve a bottle stashed away in his clothes. She takes it without complaint, rolling it between her hands like a toy. "After a few days, return and see if he's left a response. Whatever you find, write it in my journal and sign it with your real name."

"That's it?"

"Small actions can go unnoticed," he whispers, pulling her in for a tight hug. "And that's what we need in a world where we're always being watched."

Her eyes close as she leans into his warmth. How she ever managed to get through previous loops without his constant support and comfort is beyond her.

(The thought of eating a nome revolts her more than the thought of vegetables. It only makes her despise the Hunger even more, with how it digs its claws into her and makes her crave living flesh, making her the monster that she is now.)

They part not long after that, her drawing away from her dear friend reluctantly as he shoos her off, making sure the bottled message is safe in her clutches before disappearing to do whatever he needs to get done. It comes as no surprise to her that after she places the bottle where he asked, safe and secure in a nest of rope, that he tumbles before her very eyes once again and lands with a sickening crunch just a few days later.

Once she's grieved over his body for what scant minutes she possesses, she rushes off to the drop site and looks for the answer he needs.

Another bottle sits in its place, innocently out of place as she retrieves it. The message inside is released and she reads the response in RK's place. When she finds his notebook, she quickly scrawls down the answer to his message:

"Aye, but it won't be easy."

It's the last thing she manages to do before her loop ends violently. Closing her eyes has never been easier, and it makes waking up even harder than before.

She is aware of the loops. Anyone who lives constantly in them must hold some level of awareness regardless of how much they desire to live in blissful ignorance. Does it help that each loop is a promise that she can reunite with Mono, even though it will always end with her betraying him in the end? Does it help that each loop is a promise that she will get to meet RK again, even if it's at the cost of his untimely death?

Does it help that she gets to see that girl one last time, get to see her smile of gratitude before she ends up like every other child in this wretched, despicable world?

Maybe.

She's still not sure if it's enough to have her push through with each iteration. But when Mono offers his hand to her, she still takes it. When RK follows her around, she allows it. And when the girl stops to help her up, she still moves to push that same, useless boulder.

Quietly, she hums to herself.

The world is loud and frightening, with monsters at every corner waiting to kill her as a child. When she grows up, she becomes another monster at the price of survival. Her eyes open, as they always do, to the sight of the loop unfolding all around her. Little changes create large ripples, that’s what they tell her. She watches these ripples passively from a distance. That's all she can muster nowadays. Passing along messages, carrying around items to give to the other recipient, always acting the willing messenger. It helps that she always dies last.

The scribbles on RK's map grow by the loop. Mono's determination only grows stronger as he passes along the things he finds to RK. And what does Six do, besides be their messenger?

She blinks, and words flit across the screen just for her eyes to see. "You're the key to all of this," he states. "Don't doubt your importance."

"As a porter?" she scoffs.

"No, as our last fighting chance."

"Against what?"

"Against all odds." His hand reaches out from beyond the screen to cup her face tenderly. It strokes just beneath her mask's eye, presenting a comfort she doesn’t think she deserves before reluctantly pulling back into the screen. "You're the spiteful spitfire who will last the longest out of all of us. And we're depending on you to bare your teeth and fight when we can't."

She blinks, and the television is gone. A hand rests gently on her shoulder in the library, a soft hum coming from the other. "This wouldn't work without you, you know."

"Flattery gets you nowhere."

"It's the truth though." He squeezes her arm with a smile. "Who else would be strong enough to strongarm a change like this?"

"Not me."

"You're lying to yourself." His touch is soft as he holds her hand in companionship. "How else would I be here? I know these loops have lasted longer than my existence." He grins brightly at her without a hint of malice. "Somehow, you dragged me into this mess through sheer will. It always feels oddly surreal being here. I always feel like… I was never meant to live this long.” A distant look settles in his eyes, and it’s one of the few times where she can’t figure out what’s going on in that mind of his. With a quick shake of his head, he clings tighter to her hand for reassurance. “But somehow, you made it work. Who am I to not return the favor?"

How did she end up with two wonderful, lovely, amazing, brilliant friends?

They believe in her. For whatever profound or idiotic reasons they may have, they believe in her. To fight, to continue surviving, to refuse to step down - that's what they claim they need from her. So she continues what she does best. When she wakes up, she puts one foot in front of the other and continues forward. She survives, in spite of all the hardships and monsters that block her path. And as she survives, she keeps seeing them again and again and again. Perhaps it's her selfishness at work again. Dying to wake up to be found and chased and found again. Waking up to run and fight and see them again.

Waking up to see the girl in the raincoat still alive, still radiant and doing her best to help any child she comes across. Kind until the very end, when she perishes due to no fault of her own.

Waking up to see an axe drive itself over and over again into a wooden door as a boy forces his way into her life, and she grows less and less resentful, and more and more grateful for his presence.

Waking up to find food presented to her in hopes of staving off her hunger, a tentative but hopeful smile on the face of a boy still getting used to the idea of helping other children. He grows up beside her, knowing of her antics and behaviors and being the only one exasperated yet fond of her actions.

She wakes up again and again just to see them over and over. She wakes up because despite how the world seems intent on taking them away from her, she refuses to let things be until she sees them again.

Her hands are cold, but she refuses to let them stay that way.

A part of her hurts knowing she can't save them all. Her selfishness rears its head again as she desperately tries finding a way to twist fate, allowing another of them to live - another of her precious friends to stay alive. But nothing goes her way for that one moment; there is no rope to dangle down, not another boulder, no tree root she can tear out, no amount of reaching down to save the girl in the yellow raincoat. A terrible thought plants itself in her mind as she watches her die for the umpteenth time - perhaps her death is what makes her so much more desperate to see that her two other friends stay alive until the very end.

Six clutches tight to the yellow raincoat she wears.

She has to make sure they survive. If she can't save them all, then she can save as many as she can.

Her resolve blossoms anew, and she thinks that maybe she understands what Mono finally discovered after suffering loops upon loops of disappointment. When she presses her hand against the warm glass of the television, complete understanding is finally shared between the two of them.

"So, when will you come to get your meal?"

"Soon, I promise."

"I’ll hold you to it."

But of course, nothing goes her way. It never goes her way.

The first time she realizes something's wrong with the Thin Man is when she attempts to reach out to him like normal. She is met with a hazy sort of static, his visage distorted and broken before the screen did something it never did before - it lost signal.

Multicolored bars appear, surrounding a single image of an eye as it leers at her before shutting off. She (hopes, prays, begs, refuses to acknowledge) assumes that the television is finally meeting the end of its long, beleaguered life and asks the Caretaker to help her find a new one for her quarters. But even with the new television set up in her quarters, the television still says that there is no signal.

"...Something's wrong." The Caretaker places his palm against the screen with a newfound horror in his eyes. "They're finally making a move." Their gazes meet for a moment before drifting towards the Eye insignias that have followed them through each and every loop.

She’d forgotten that they were a warning as much as they were decoration.

The true horror of the situation is made apparent to her when she faces down her tiny successor. Her form is rigid, stiff, but not with the desperate strength of a child trying to survive and conquer.

No.

The little brown bag that threatens to fall from her pocket is more than enough for the Lady to understand what the Tower had done.

She dies at the hands of an angry, grief-stricken little girl, and the only thing she could do is hope that her new iteration clings to that rage as she grows up.

#little nightmares #little nightmares 2 #ln lady #ln thin man #ln runaway kid #ln six #ln mono #six is like 'man i LOVE feeling hope for once'#and then there's me #holding up a bat and swinging it at mono's head like #'lmao you say sumthin'#anyway the map joke was originally supposed to be like #'hey this map is cool what do the words say mono'#'i can't read'#'its okay reading is stupid anyways'#but then i remembered i made them super literate so now its the 'maps suck' joke #ANYWAY!!!#HOMESTRETCH FOLKS WE GETTIN IT!!

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