this, somehow, seems more invasive to be seeing than the first memory - more personal, somehow. more raw. she can't imagine that it was easy for vin to admit feeling this way to the man in her memory, and she can't imagine that vin is fully comfortable with that vulnerability being laid bare in front of her now.
...
she takes her hands, though, when the memory comes to an end.
everyone leaves me.
that's haunting, because - isn't that their goal? to leave this place? to go back to where they'd come from? when that happens, they'll...]
[the memory doesn't let go of her that easily. living through it again, seeing him so close and so real, feeling him reach out to hold her - while she's back in that moment, it's almost like...
it's only when jiuqing reaches out for her that she takes a shuddering breath, brought back to here and now. she blinks, looking down to where jiuqing holds her hands, a deep breath forcing itself into her lungs.]
It's... [for all she likes to downplay things like this, she can't quite bring herself to say it's fine. instead:] It was a long time ago.
[not the memory itself, but - the things she described in it.]
[some things still hurt no matter how much time passes. you carry them with you, always, until carrying that burden becomes as natural as breathing, and the thought of setting it down is entirely foreign.]
[but to her - acknowledging that pain doesn't change what has happened, or that she's certain that's it just going to happen again. she's mentioned it before, things like the people here are kind or they seem well meaning, but even that has been an understatement. even if she's tried to pull back from caring or getting too invested, she's already failed, and in the end, she's sure that every face she's come to know here will fade to a memory.
is there some way to get home, but to not lose touch with the people they've grown to care for here? jiuqing doesn't know. at this point, even making it home feels... not impossible, but also not something they'll be able to accomplish soon.
but if they can find some way to stay connected...]
Even so... [...] It's still...
[awful, to have to live in fear of the moment when people will leave you behind.]
[jiuqing has always seemed very competent and put together to her, so she does believe her. can't wait for her to see the fires tomorrow and sweat. but for now:]
no subject
this, somehow, seems more invasive to be seeing than the first memory - more personal, somehow. more raw. she can't imagine that it was easy for vin to admit feeling this way to the man in her memory, and she can't imagine that vin is fully comfortable with that vulnerability being laid bare in front of her now.
...
she takes her hands, though, when the memory comes to an end.
everyone leaves me.
that's haunting, because - isn't that their goal? to leave this place? to go back to where they'd come from? when that happens, they'll...]
Oh, Vin...
no subject
it's only when jiuqing reaches out for her that she takes a shuddering breath, brought back to here and now. she blinks, looking down to where jiuqing holds her hands, a deep breath forcing itself into her lungs.]
It's... [for all she likes to downplay things like this, she can't quite bring herself to say it's fine. instead:] It was a long time ago.
[not the memory itself, but - the things she described in it.]
no subject
...that doesn't make it hurt any less.
[some things still hurt no matter how much time passes. you carry them with you, always, until carrying that burden becomes as natural as breathing, and the thought of setting it down is entirely foreign.]
no subject
[but to her - acknowledging that pain doesn't change what has happened, or that she's certain that's it just going to happen again. she's mentioned it before, things like the people here are kind or they seem well meaning,
but even that has been an understatement. even if she's tried to pull back from caring or getting too invested, she's already failed, and in the end, she's sure that every face she's come to know here will fade to a memory.
still. after a moment, carefully neutral:]
But it is what happens.
no subject
is there some way to get home, but to not lose touch with the people they've grown to care for here? jiuqing doesn't know. at this point, even making it home feels... not impossible, but also not something they'll be able to accomplish soon.
but if they can find some way to stay connected...]
Even so... [...] It's still...
[awful, to have to live in fear of the moment when people will leave you behind.]
no subject
I'm sorry you had to see it.
no subject
[that seems worse?]
no subject
[it's not a competition and she knows that, but - she's still concerned about jiuqing.]
no subject
[this is before the fire effect so she doesn't even set the area around them on fire! nice.]
no subject
...See to it that they don't.
no subject
They definitely will not.
no subject
no subject