This is my friend Hot Pants, so be nice, you little troublemaker. [the goat flicks his ears! he weirdly looks as though he actually understands what's being said.]
[glancing up from the conversation before they can unfortunately explain their love for problem children, which encompasses both goats and hot pants. bubble me.]
[who are u calling a problem child u insufferable statue]
[But...yes. It's time. Hot Pants sighs...before she punches the bubble, a burst of color underneath her hand. With color, of course, comes the price.]
[A set of memories (the first, 10-28, the second, 14-22) bleeds through, of Hot Pants trapped with two men in a horrific trap, forcing the regrets and sacrifices of the past onto its victims. Hot Pants, tearfully telling the young man, her heart weighed with sorrow at the sin she committed, about becoming a nun, and yet unable to leave the past behind. And then, throwing everything into the search for a corpse of a saint, in the hopes she would find forgiveness.]
[And her sins, wrapping around her, stifling, crushing her body even as she implores the man to save himself-]
... [The goat in her hands is...perplexed and also wtf. That bear. Hot Pants isn't even looking at Shale.] Again and again...ha. As if that...isn't all the time...
[nods in perfect understanding at these events that transpired.
but actually. it's hard to be too worked up about body horror when you're a statue. shale perceives the memory, and understands a little more instead about what hot pants said, about needing to soothe her soul, looking for peace and answers to attain what she needs. and instead she's still crushed by it.
they let her look away. they may have pushed her to talk about these things, suggested she needs to share them, but they have always given a choice.]
[The goat bleats at her, and she reaches up a hand to pat its head, quiet for a moment, before she steps forward, closer to them.]
It's a neverending battle, Shale. And it's why...I have to fight as hard as I can, just to feel like I'm amounting to something. Some form of appeasement, I guess. But that's still out of reach.
Of course, I can't forgive myself, but through God, through being a good servant to Him, I'd...I'd get his forgiveness. God's forgiveness, and my brother's.
That's because you don't forgive yourself. [they sound pretty certain.] I don't know your god, so I can't assure you whether or not he would forgive you. But what I know for sure is that what's inside us, what we think about ourselves and what we feel about ourselves, the shape of our soul, that's our own business. It's got nothing to do with gods.
[...] I wish it did. It would be nice, knowing prayer could take care of that for us. But there wouldn't be much point to the gods having given us souls to begin with if that's how it worked.
[She's here, holding this goat with its dumb little sweater and a talking statue, and for the first time, even in all these bizarre circumstances, she just feels totally, completely, utterly lost.]
Then I guess forgiveness will always be out of reach.
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[how are you doing hot pants.]
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[She's gesturing!! Let her have the goat!!! She will Help.]
What carrots do we have, anyways?
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[but they will hand her the goat.]
This is my friend Hot Pants, so be nice, you little troublemaker. [the goat flicks his ears! he weirdly looks as though he actually understands what's being said.]
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[But she's holding the goat! Nice cute goat! She's not nice.]
Maybe cut the carrots up into pieces? Then it won't be biased based on color.
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[a little laughter at her holding a cute goat and pretending not to be nice.]
...Do you get along with animals, usually?
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[the baby goat opens its mouth and screams in agreement.]
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He's very...loud about it.
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[these ones are fuschia wearing little turquoise sweaters.]
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[also. idk which mod this is but puts memshare post forward let me know a preference and/or rng and what to avoid]
...Are you a big fan of them yourself?
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Oh, I like animals generally. But the goats are fun. They're jerks, and I like that.
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[Somehow, that makes her bark out a noise, like a laugh.]
What, do you see yourself in them-
[Oh.]
[A bubble pops, as she's too distracted by Shale and the cute goat.]
Ah. Shit.
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[glancing up from the conversation before they can unfortunately explain their love for problem children, which encompasses both goats and hot pants. bubble me.]
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[But...yes. It's time. Hot Pants sighs...before she punches the bubble, a burst of color underneath her hand. With color, of course, comes the price.]
[A set of memories (the first, 10-28, the second, 14-22) bleeds through, of Hot Pants trapped with two men in a horrific trap, forcing the regrets and sacrifices of the past onto its victims. Hot Pants, tearfully telling the young man, her heart weighed with sorrow at the sin she committed, about becoming a nun, and yet unable to leave the past behind. And then, throwing everything into the search for a corpse of a saint, in the hopes she would find forgiveness.]
[And her sins, wrapping around her, stifling, crushing her body even as she implores the man to save himself-]
... [The goat in her hands is...perplexed and also wtf. That bear. Hot Pants isn't even looking at Shale.] Again and again...ha. As if that...isn't all the time...
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but actually. it's hard to be too worked up about body horror when you're a statue. shale perceives the memory, and understands a little more instead about what hot pants said, about needing to soothe her soul, looking for peace and answers to attain what she needs. and instead she's still crushed by it.
they let her look away. they may have pushed her to talk about these things, suggested she needs to share them, but they have always given a choice.]
...Hey, Hot Pants. Are you alright?
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[She shakes her head, turning back to them.]
...I'm fine. [...] No, its more...I'll be fine.
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[they seem sort of worried, and make a move towards her, but cautious.]
You know me. I push, but I don't make anyone talk about anything. Still - it might not be a bad thing to try.
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[The goat bleats at her, and she reaches up a hand to pat its head, quiet for a moment, before she steps forward, closer to them.]
It's a neverending battle, Shale. And it's why...I have to fight as hard as I can, just to feel like I'm amounting to something. Some form of appeasement, I guess. But that's still out of reach.
Maybe it always will be.
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[those are three different things, really.]
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Of course, I can't forgive myself, but through God, through being a good servant to Him, I'd...I'd get his forgiveness. God's forgiveness, and my brother's.
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What makes you so sure you don't have it?
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[It festers, like a mold, and it suffocates entirely.]
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That's because you don't forgive yourself. [they sound pretty certain.] I don't know your god, so I can't assure you whether or not he would forgive you. But what I know for sure is that what's inside us, what we think about ourselves and what we feel about ourselves, the shape of our soul, that's our own business. It's got nothing to do with gods.
[...] I wish it did. It would be nice, knowing prayer could take care of that for us. But there wouldn't be much point to the gods having given us souls to begin with if that's how it worked.
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[She's here, holding this goat with its dumb little sweater and a talking statue, and for the first time, even in all these bizarre circumstances, she just feels totally, completely, utterly lost.]
Then I guess forgiveness will always be out of reach.
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[they hum a little, but it's sympathetic.]
I don't believe that, actually. But you won't be able to try unless you can accept that nothing that comes from outside yourself will fix it.
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