Week Six

[letsplayamod]

You've survived, for lack of better wording, the latest week of trials and tribulations. This one had been more costly than most: Typhon's machinations have brought your group to nearly half the size it was when Athena first brought you to this island. Whether it ends with him or with you is still too soon to make out. One thing's for certain. Things cannot be allowed to continue as they are.

Speaking of continuing, the next floor has been revealed to you. Just how far down this island goes is a bit of a mystery, but you get the feeling that you're close to something important. Maybe that thing Athena wanted you to find before Typhon does. You can ruminate on that as you watch the waters below. Waves still lap at the cliffs, but it all seems lower than it did weeks ago. Like the ocean itself is shrinking...

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[necromants]

[it's only awkward if you make it awkward!

...which we are both doing by avoiding it, huh.]

[taintedfayth]

[We sure are!!

... that corner over there is very fascinating. Seymour is just going to be focusing intently on that...]

[letsplayamod]

[You're right, Seymour, Baby Corner is fascinating. A kitten and a Winion slowly baping at each other on repeat.]

[necromants]

[Oh he does not want to have this conversation in front of literally EVERYONE ELSE maybe he can just. Say nothing. That would be nice.

...But he may not get another chance, and of everyone he owes apologies to, Seymour is at the top.

(I mean maybe the girls he killed should be but we can't ask too much from him, now can we.)

Right. So. While everyone is hopefully more distracted with speaking with their ghost friends (and not throwing things through his head, thanks Ranma) let's just... do this. Alright. He does not have the words he needs or the mental fortitude for the rejection he's inevitably going to face, but he can't let this chance go by.]

Seymour. I have something I would say to you, if you would hear it.

[taintedfayth]

[Seymour doesn't grace this with a verbal response, but the deep, shuddering breath he takes is answer enough. It's neither an encouragement to continue nor a demand to stop, more a sort of quiet resignation than anything else. There's no fixing this, as both of them know, yet at the same time there's a hole in his heart in the shape of what he'd had for all too brief a time that's still achingly empty, and there's a part of him that can't quite manage to turn away from what once had fit there so perfectly.

If Zvei - Ivilezlei - is going to speak, then he can go ahead and do it.]

cw: suicidal ideation

[necromants]

[It isn't really an answer, but it also says more than enough. Silence speaks volumes, they say, and this one certainly does. Seymour had turned his back on him during the trial - and for good reason - but he's allowed this one opportunity. He can't waste it, regardless of who is listening in.

Ivilezlei takes a breath and exhales slowly.]

I apologize for hurting you, Seymour. I was... scared. Terrified that someone could come to like me, "Zvei", when I couldn't bear to remain that person for a moment longer. I was desperate, and blind to just how much it would hurt you. It isn't an excuse - I should have known better. I should have done better, because you... you made me want to try. And that scared me too.

An apology will do little to truly mend such things, I know that. There isn't much else I can do in these circumstances, but I want - need - you to know that I deeply regret my actions. That even having these precious memories isn't enough, and never will be. I hadn't realized how important you were to me, and when I stopped to think about it, that scared me too. Instead of accepting it, I chose the easier path, the one that would mean I wouldn't have to think anymore.

If I could do it over again, I would. If I could undo the damage I've done, I would. I would take living as Zvei if it meant that I would treasure your companionship as it deserves. And I'm... truly sorry for all I've done.

[He was hoping that expressing it would feel like a weight off of his shoulders. It doesn't. It feels like he's sinking.]

If you want nothing to do with me, then so be it. I don't want to hurt you any further.

[He just hopes that someone will look out for Seymour, to help him slowly rekindle that small spark of hope that Zvei so carelessly snuffed out.]

[taintedfayth]

[Seymour listens in silence, intending to give Ivilezlei that final courtesy so that the two of them can finally go their separate ways with a clear conscience. Leb had said that he didn't owe Ivilezlei anything; whether that's true or not, he doesn't want to feel like he does, and so he's willing to hear the other man out even if he doesn't actually want to hear any of it.

But as he listens, his expression slowly crumples, until at last he can hold it in no longer and:]

Don't--

[It's rasped, thin and strained, like a wounded animal backed into a corner.

He doesn't want to know this. He doesn't want to know any of this. He doesn't want to know how close he came to being able to have something for himself that wasn't just more misery, to know that if Zvei had just made a different decision...

... and to be reminded that in the end, no matter what the world, his fate will always be the same.

(There is no place for him. There never has been.)]

[necromants]

[Was it cruelty to explain himself? Was it selfish to decide to do that instead of simply leave Seymour be? He's not sure. Ivilezlei's memories can't guide him through this, and Zvei's are entirely useless. But even if it was selfish and cruel, there isn't any taking any of this back either. At the very least, he has said what he wanted to say, and can simply leave it well enough alone now. Whatever happens next is Seymour's decision, and he doesn't anticipate that will be an easy one - for either of them.]

...My apologies. I wanted you to know the truth, but perhaps it would have been better if I had simply...

[Let Seymour go. For his own good.

He exhales, rubbing the back of his neck before shaking his head and abandoning that thought.]

I've said all I have to say. I won't trouble you again.

[And the part of him that is still undoubtedly, undeniably Zvei hates that he can't convince himself to keep fighting.]

[taintedfayth]

[It's a long moment before he can reel his mind back in from the tumult of emotions assailing it, and longer still before he can muster up the wherewithal to speak.]

You have already troubled me more than enough.

[His tone is clipped, acrid, the violet of his eyes as stormy as the ocean that extends beyond the barrier. He hates this. He hates Zvei, he hates Ivilezlei, he hates himself, and most of all, he hates the part of him that can't stop loving Zvei even though he no longer wants to.]

I am glad you understand that much.

[He feels like he's drowning, and the one person who could pull him out is the one person he can't reach out to.]

[necromants]

[That's it, then. There's nothing more to be said, and he has little choice but to accept Seymour's wishes. Let him go, because continuing to hurt him won't do any good for either of them.

He doesn't nod, or acknowledge Seymour's words verbally, instead turning and taking his leave. Eventually he'll wander out entirely, leaving the living behind with the other dead before the connection abruptly breaks.]

[brokenhabit]

[ She sees this and though she's only spoken to Seymour a few times she recognizes this sort of thing.

It's a little too familiar.

So she's just going to take a moment to scoot away from the rest of the group and the happy reunions to just quietly speak to him. ]

It's all right, you don't owe him anything.

[ None of her own feelings about what Zvei did fuel her saying this. She just knows what that bitter taste of betrayal is like and hopes that comes through. ]

[taintedfayth]

[The smallest amount of tension eases out of his shoulders at the sound of Lebkuchen's voice, so slight as to be almost imperceptible. She's right, of course, and he knows it. He doesn't have to say anything. He can simply ignore Zvei, because he owes him nothing.

And yet...]

It is he who owes us all a great many things.

[... and yet he can't simply turn off the way he feels-- the way he wishes he didn't still feel.]

[pariunt]

[...yeah he doesn't blame you one bit, Seymour.]