[ She doesn’t have it in her to snap the broom in half because ghostie but she thinks about it. And then immediately brushes the thought aside, focusing on sweeping.
Once Wicked has finished she just sweeps it up into the pan…
Do they have a can or something she can just drop all this dust and whatever in? ]
You’re so cheesy. Doesn’t it feel weird always spewing out garbage like that? It sends shivers down my spine.
[ Despite her words she is feeling… happy.
And I wanna put it on record in case it’s never threaded out that she would make the shittiest wood carving ever. And then just tell them that it’s a potato. ]
No, feels pretty natural. If it bothers you, I can tone it down a bit.
[they can tell she is feeling happy it's fine they aren't toning down shit. they do not seem to mind being called cheesy. anyway, that's precious. also, yes, there is a little bin.]
I tend to always go with the feelings that feel right to me. I don't see much point in hiding things or changing myself, but I don't see much point in being unkind to people who have been nothing but kind to me.
[and honestly, wicked has. he'll respect her preference of being referred to as a different person because, sure. but it's pretty clear she remembers and is still responding to their prior conversations, just in a ruder tone. rudeness doesn't bother him, all of his friends are rude af.]
If I knew how to get you home, I'd do it whether or not you helped me. But I understand. Most relationships are based on a person needing something from someone who can give it to them.
What the fuck is up with you people? Why are you all so friendly? Is it just so you can get your memories back -- or hopefully you'll be reunited with people you've lost...
I don't fuckin' get it. I understand that maybe for everyone else you'd wanna help, but what's the point of even bothering with someone who'll probably be spending the rest of her days in a hospital bed?
Well, every relationship is based on a need, and in my case, I find myself needing enjoyable company from time to time, something you can provide. In other words, I've liked talking to you.
I was a little curious, what it would be like, to talk to you.
[they drum their fingers against the table.]
For the most part all you did was use some strong language and then ask me how my garden was going. I've dealt with a lot worse. [...] It seemed she wanted me to understand how different she was from you, and you want the same. But it would be a shame to try to erase parts of yourself for a reason like that.
I fucking hate every single person here and want every world, not just mine, to just fucking implode on itself. [ She says it with some spite, gritting her teeth; lying has always been easier for her when she truly meant it. ] ... So you wanna still be friends?
I'll be honest with you. I've seen a lot of the ugliness others have experienced in their lives. I've met a lot of people on the worst days of their lives. But I've experienced little of it myself. I spent most of my life tending to a graveyard at a remote temple, and I've lost things that are important to me, and I've felt pain, even death, but I couldn't say that in the course of my life I've suffered the way others I have known have suffered.
So perhaps I'll grant you that you speak from experience. Am I wrong, that sometimes people heal and sometimes they change?
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[they don't react to the anger at all, just pleasantly pleased.]
If it's a gift from you, then that's something I'd love to have.
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Once Wicked has finished she just sweeps it up into the pan…
Do they have a can or something she can just drop all this dust and whatever in? ]
You’re so cheesy. Doesn’t it feel weird always spewing out garbage like that? It sends shivers down my spine.
[ Despite her words she is feeling… happy.
And I wanna put it on record in case it’s never threaded out that she would make the shittiest wood carving ever. And then just tell them that it’s a potato. ]
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[they can tell she is feeling happy it's fine they aren't toning down shit. they do not seem to mind being called cheesy. anyway, that's precious. also, yes, there is a little bin.]
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[ She dumps all the dust and dirt into the bin. ]
Feelings like that come natural for most people. It's normal, at least.
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[and honestly, wicked has. he'll respect her preference of being referred to as a different person because, sure. but it's pretty clear she remembers and is still responding to their prior conversations, just in a ruder tone. rudeness doesn't bother him, all of his friends are rude af.]
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She looks at the cracks in the floor, at some of the stray mushrooms blooming out. ]
I'm only like this because you're probably gonna help me get back home, you know?
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If I knew how to get you home, I'd do it whether or not you helped me. But I understand. Most relationships are based on a person needing something from someone who can give it to them.
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What the fuck is up with you people? Why are you all so friendly? Is it just so you can get your memories back -- or hopefully you'll be reunited with people you've lost...
I don't fuckin' get it. I understand that maybe for everyone else you'd wanna help, but what's the point of even bothering with someone who'll probably be spending the rest of her days in a hospital bed?
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[he takes a moment to consider her question.]
Well, every relationship is based on a need, and in my case, I find myself needing enjoyable company from time to time, something you can provide. In other words, I've liked talking to you.
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[ Ugh....... SHE DOESN'T LIKE IT..........
she wants to cry. ]
You mainly talked to my pathetic self -- don't you miss her more?
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[they drum their fingers against the table.]
For the most part all you did was use some strong language and then ask me how my garden was going. I've dealt with a lot worse. [...] It seemed she wanted me to understand how different she was from you, and you want the same. But it would be a shame to try to erase parts of yourself for a reason like that.
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… You’re making a really dumb mistake. [ And no, she won’t elaborate on that.
Instead she just sits at the table; feigning exhaustion. ]
So what’s next on the agenda for you and the rest of the residents? Just make comfy places where we can hang out in while we chill as ghosts?
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[no, elaborate.]
I would say that's pretty much the agenda, yes. I don't know of anything we could do for you besides that.
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I fucking hate every single person here and want every world, not just mine, to just fucking implode on itself. [ She says it with some spite, gritting her teeth; lying has always been easier for her when she truly meant it. ] ... So you wanna still be friends?
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[they don't sound too bothered by anything she just said.]
I don't agree with you, and I don't think that's a healthy attitude. But it doesn't mean we can't be friends.
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[ Hm. ]
Cool. I guess you're right.
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[still, for now, it doesn't seem to bother them that much.]
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…
Are you saying this from experience? Or this all some bullshit I could get from a “get well” card?
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[thinking about it.]
I'll be honest with you. I've seen a lot of the ugliness others have experienced in their lives. I've met a lot of people on the worst days of their lives. But I've experienced little of it myself. I spent most of my life tending to a graveyard at a remote temple, and I've lost things that are important to me, and I've felt pain, even death, but I couldn't say that in the course of my life I've suffered the way others I have known have suffered.
So perhaps I'll grant you that you speak from experience. Am I wrong, that sometimes people heal and sometimes they change?