[where is mathis on this fine sunday? laudna can be found lingering near the pyre a little after the execution, thoughtfully working on a little embroidery hoop.]
He shouldn't have been able to. There would have been some kind of record if he had a backup, and no one but the Institute should have... had that type of technology.
[a few moments of silence, before his expression sharpens a little.]
[he's managed to get her on a conversation topic that isn't insane, so she's listening in a more normal way now. interested, but less alarmingly gleeful.]
[one of them is more normal, at least! but on this topic of conversation, his tone is different. no tripping over words or hesitating on them, a bit of a lower pitch.]
I don't care how he managed to survive- all that has to happen is making sure he dies again.
...I'm not afraid to say I had you all wrong. I thought you were a little lamb, and I hate the ones who bleat and cry but never fight back. It's annoying to listen to.
I won't be. I don't intend you any harm. I've just seen the way these things play out. There's no sense getting attached to someone who isn't able to defend themselves.
[this total 180 personality doesn't bother her, though. it's fine. seems cool and normal.]
[oh. he's crazy crazy. that's so fun. she is sympathetic, though.]
...It's difficult to dwell on these things sometimes, isn't it? I apologize for asking. It's better not to think about these things until they become relevant. Hold on to that anger until you need it, dear.
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week 0; sunday
...And start again tomorrow, I suppose.
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[he also is lingering near the pyre, actually; he came here to sit and think a little, to just calm down after all of that.]
One of them said it isn't a certainty that the same thing will happen tomorrow, but...
[yeah. probably.]
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[it's been a week and things have already gotten so bad, though, so maybe she's right.]
B-but at least we know more, now, so maybe we'll still...
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there's something about the way he keeps suggesting it won't be so bad but doesn't seem to believe his own words that she can't resist poking at.]
We'll still do what?
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Maybe we'll still... manage to find a way to do something about it. I don't know what that might be, yet...
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[i really am sorry.]
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[she's not wrong!]
But there really won't be a solution if we don't... at least look for one, will there?
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[a little shake of his head, curling in on himself a bit.]
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We finally found and cornered him, but he- he...
[a slight shake of his head, hands curling tightly into the fabric of his jacket.]
I saw him die, right in front of us, and he still... returned.
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Ah. I've known people like that. Some people don't like to stay dead. If you made the preparations in life...
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[a few moments of silence, before his expression sharpens a little.]
...it doesn't matter. He can still die.
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Can he? Did he?
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[one of them is more normal, at least! but on this topic of conversation, his tone is different. no tripping over words or hesitating on them, a bit of a lower pitch.]
I don't care how he managed to survive- all that has to happen is making sure he dies again.
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...I'm not afraid to say I had you all wrong. I thought you were a little lamb, and I hate the ones who bleat and cry but never fight back. It's annoying to listen to.
You have more backbone than that. Good for you.
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[a little detached, dismissive.]
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[this total 180 personality doesn't bother her, though. it's fine. seems cool and normal.]
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[he squeezes his eyes shut, teeth grit for a moment, one hand clenched.]
He won't do it again.
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...What did he do? Who did he take from you?
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[he hesitates with a little wince, pausing there.]
No, who did he...
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...It's difficult to dwell on these things sometimes, isn't it? I apologize for asking. It's better not to think about these things until they become relevant. Hold on to that anger until you need it, dear.
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