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text | un: un.owen | August 29

[beatojuice]

[ Things had been... eventful lately. So it takes a few days for her to get back to Constantin. But those events have only strengthened her desire to find a solution to her problems. ]

I apologize for my lateness in contacting you. I am Beatrice, the author of the network post.

[takeroot]

[It takes him a moment- there are a lot of network posts!- but ah, the anonymous poster.]

Oh! Yes, of course! How are you? Did you learn anything of interest from your post?

[beatojuice]

Not much, unfortunately. But I did find others that agreed with me. If we ever need allies, that might be important.

As far as anybody knows, the cause is Malachite, and the solution is Malachite. But we know perfectly well how disagreeable our so-called divine friend is.

[takeroot]

Some sort of secret elite force? Exciting!

Frankly, I have been sick of Malachite since the very first day, and I have been here for a while, but if we must rub elbows with "divinity," then so be it. I will practice my winning smile in the mirror if I must.

[beatojuice]

Hah. Hardly.

I cannot blame you. It feels like walking on eggshells, it is admittedly terrifying to think of such a volatile being holding our fate in their hands. I am freer here than I ever have been, and yet I am once more at the mercy of fickle and irrational whims. I worry about how they might react if public anger towards them grows any hotter.

[takeroot]

I think a secret elite force might be fun.

But you are right, and I feel the same. This place is strange and upsetting in its own ways, and yet I have never been so... well, happy, more or less. In the overall sum of things. And yet a child's tantrums could spoil that at any time.

Is that what you were thinking about, when you made your post? Freedom?

[beatojuice]

Something like that. I'm dead. I was brought here from, I suppose you could say an afterlife, of sorts. I've been granted another chance. I don't want it to go to waste.

[takeroot]

Oh. You have my sympathies.

[... Well, if she's sharing, it's only fair.]

And my understanding, I suppose? I am ill, but only at home. Were Malachite to deem it funny or simply convenient to send me back, I would be dead within the week. So! Here we are with unpleasantness to return to.

[beatojuice]

I am not fishing for pity or sympathy. I just want you to understand my motive. Nevertheless, it would appear that we both have some cause for concern, to say nothing of agitation in this matter.

Speaking of agitation, the challenge will be not only in reaching Malachite, but to do so in a way that does not further inflame their temper. Honestly, what a brat.

[takeroot]

No, of course not. No pity. The way such a revelation changes a person's perception of you instantly is quite bad enough.

[Not that he airs his business around here all that much, but being The Sick Person at home was already enough pity to bury a city, so. No, not pity.]

As for our brat... They are essentially a child, yes? I was considering slipping them a note somehow, to appeal to a child's sense of mischief.

[beatojuice]

It certainly does, doesn't it? Being pitied means being treated as something completely helpless. It can be insulting.

Couldn't that land you in serious trouble?

[takeroot]

I don't disagree! I may not be much of an asset in something like a brawl, but to watch the cogs turn behind someone's eyes as they prepare to walk on eggshells around me like I am a sensitive child is a level of helpless I cannot abide. Tedious!

And I've no idea. There is a decent chance I fail completely before anyone takes notice, after all.