Then they are an echo of your own memories that somehow manifest to us as well, rather than spirits haunting that place? Or both?
[She knows Pride doesn't necessarily like to talk about his sad backstory, and she drinks sad backstory respecting juice, but she means this question more in an academic way - the nature of the phantoms that can be seen and heard.]
[Looking at him like she might look at someone who said the earth is flat.]
Putting aside the fact that incontrovertibly they do. What is it that makes your memories visible to us? I haven't encountered this with the other areas associated with particular Avatars.
As I said, Sheila and I misunderstood. I believed that to be a place distasteful to you, and that our actions would not cause offense. But we saw certain visions there, besides the screaming, that lead me to believe otherwise. Would you like them recounted or would you prefer we not speak of them?
[Oh. No. There, there, bud. She sort of politely waits for him to finish cry bleeding because she doesn't feel like a comforting hug is an option for either of them.]
Fine - I'm fine. [they reach up into their hood - higher, actually than where their eyes should be, and pull their claw out to look down at the blood.]
[She says that not really coldly but rather like she was expecting something else when he said he figured out the trigger, like maybe it was also mysterious and hard to get his mind around the way it is for her.
That the woman in the chapel was someone very dear to him, and that she died was what she'd assumed to begin with.
It's also a reaction of - here I was, trying not to hurt you. She really would like to not hurt him. There's something about Pride, since they first discussed Mercy, that has struck her as very fragile.]
underneath is a man! a small, kind of gaunt man, with black hair that's pulled back into a ponytail. his gold eyes are catlike, a slit pupil. he has long, pointy ears, dark circles around his eyes, and fangs that poke out from his mouth. but the most important thing to note is what harrow is looking for: a thorn crown made of pure gold around his head. it seems to be growing in and out of his skull, and digs in painfully here and there.
that's where the blood comes from, at the parts that squeeze painfully against his temple.
he keeps his hands on the edges of the hood, even when it's down.]
Awful. She will - I have no idea how small is small, but I assume she still needs to lean up, to look at this close, see where it's connected to the skull.]
How dreadful. A golden crown indeed. A little pain, you say?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
w3, tuesday
I noticed. The screaming was worse than usual.
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I assumed whatever was causing it was something malevolent. It was not otherwise my intention to disturb any ghosts.
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[... but they appreciate it, though?] I imagine as long as I can remember them they'll stay.
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[She knows Pride doesn't necessarily like to talk about his sad backstory, and she drinks sad backstory respecting juice, but she means this question more in an academic way - the nature of the phantoms that can be seen and heard.]
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[they say, flatly.] There are no ghosts here. Ghosts don't exist.
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Putting aside the fact that incontrovertibly they do. What is it that makes your memories visible to us? I haven't encountered this with the other areas associated with particular Avatars.
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... It's just screaming. Not anything groundbreaking.
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[It's not, but she doesn't want to pry.]
As I said, Sheila and I misunderstood. I believed that to be a place distasteful to you, and that our actions would not cause offense. But we saw certain visions there, besides the screaming, that lead me to believe otherwise. Would you like them recounted or would you prefer we not speak of them?
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... What exactly are you talking about? I don't know anything about the other experiences, just the screaming.
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. . . We had a vision of people in cages. And a dying woman, who asked for flowers.
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How... [a single streak of red runs drips out from their hood.] Mar's sake.
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. . . I'm sorry. Are you all right?
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Fine - I'm fine. [they reach up into their hood - higher, actually than where their eyes should be, and pull their claw out to look down at the blood.]
I'm not upset. It's the damn...
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Am I making it worse?
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[sigh.] I think I've figured out the trigger for it.
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Things that remind me of my dead wife.
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[She says that not really coldly but rather like she was expecting something else when he said he figured out the trigger, like maybe it was also mysterious and hard to get his mind around the way it is for her.
That the woman in the chapel was someone very dear to him, and that she died was what she'd assumed to begin with.
It's also a reaction of - here I was, trying not to hurt you. She really would like to not hurt him. There's something about Pride, since they first discussed Mercy, that has struck her as very fragile.]
Is it painful?
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they let out a slow sigh.]
A little. [...] Hard to describe what it is.
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. . . I could take a look at it. If you felt it would help.
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[they slowly take their hood off.
underneath is a man! a small, kind of gaunt man, with black hair that's pulled back into a ponytail. his gold eyes are catlike, a slit pupil. he has long, pointy ears, dark circles around his eyes, and fangs that poke out from his mouth. but the most important thing to note is what harrow is looking for: a thorn crown made of pure gold around his head. it seems to be growing in and out of his skull, and digs in painfully here and there.
that's where the blood comes from, at the parts that squeeze painfully against his temple.
he keeps his hands on the edges of the hood, even when it's down.]
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Awful. She will - I have no idea how small is small, but I assume she still needs to lean up, to look at this close, see where it's connected to the skull.]
How dreadful. A golden crown indeed. A little pain, you say?
[Doubt.]
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I have a high pain tolerance. [sigh.]
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As do I. And yet, I believe I would dislike it if I were made to wear that. Can it not be removed?
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No, it can. I'm just wearing it because I love it so much. [harrow]
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