week four | mingle

[marriagebroker]

Final week at the estate! Final week with your friends. Final week with your beaus. Time to make the most of it, everyone!

In fact, to celebrate this fact, today there is a cake. It's nothing special, just a nice little cake to enjoy with your morning coffee or throughout the day. Yay, cake!

And when Wei Wuxian arrives that morning, he is going to call out once again for everyone to join him, near the cake.

"Everyone, I have another announcement!"

Hell yeah, announcements.

Boom Boom Room | Dates | Property Damage
Truth Booth Voting | Match Ceremony Voting

Comments

[nrangel]

[ It may not. Good deeds don't undo bad ones, and the loss of a life or many, many... many lives can't be reversed just because you change your wicked ways.

Still, she has to wonder... ]

Do you regret any of it? Reducing them to just that?

[ There's nothing self-righteous or angry in her tone. She's not saying it like she expects or demands he repent of his action. It's softly spoken, somber still, but genuinely curious. ]

[anathemaw]

Would it matter?

[ his feelings won't undo anything he's done. His actions - and their consequences - remain. He's sure the Hornsent would spit on his remorse. ]

[nrangel]

[ She pauses to consider. ]

To the people you killed? No.

[ However... ]

To the few that are still around? It could still. You're not going to be able to change anything you did, but you're still here making decisions right now, aren't you? So the way you feel about what you did still matters.

[ They might not forgive him, and she wouldn't argue that they should, but the choice to continue to chase even those few survivors down and do them in verses stilling his hand knowing what he's done.

It makes a difference for sure. ]

[anathemaw]

They would fain spit my head upon a pike ere I breathed even a word. And such is their right. Violence spent doth violence earn.

[ He's considered these things so many times in the past thousand years of his life. There is no right answer. For he, too, can't quite forgive the Hornsent for the things they've done - the horrors he bore witness to. But he's tired of fighting. ]

... I have spent years beyond thine imagining steeped in thoughts of this war. Thy suggestions are stale. [ a beat. ] The time for regret is long past. All that remains is to lament my foolishness, and my wretched fate.

[nrangel]

[ Yeah, yeah. An eye for an eye and all that. It's a nice idea that it'll end at some point, but she does know that people tend not to be all that good at just letting go of things done to them, especially terrible things.

It's why the Sarkaz and the Sankta are still at it now. ]

You sure about that? I mean, I won't stop you from all the lamenting if that's what you want to do, but even if you can't make up for past sins at all, you can at least spend the rest of your time better than that.

[ A soft, single, breathy laugh. ]

Only one person died as a direct consequence of my actions, but someone else is facing the consequences of my actions for the rest of her life. We're not talking the same scale here at all, but I figure I owe it to the girl whose life I ruined to make sure she stays safe in whatever way I can help her. Not saying you need to or should go anywhere near the Hornsent, because I think you're right you're well past that point... but doesn't mean you can't do some good by someone in some other way, right?

[ She shrugs, just a little now. Heavy conversations aren't her strong suit, and this one is as heavy as they come. ]

You might already be doing that for all I know though.

[anathemaw]

[ how surprisingly insightful of her. Messmer's slightly surprised, though it doesn't show on his face; he was expecting more platitudes. Serpilia has largely seemed like an average woman to him, albeit one with a surplus of confidence and multiple weird floaty bits. Maybe he hasn't given her mind enough credit, considering she's cut to the heart of the matter so quickly. Lamentation hasn't done anything.

He exhales through his nose, perhaps in amusement, or perhaps just out of weariness. ]

... Time hath a slow and heavy stride for we who live beyond death. Long have I waited for change to visit me, and by my hand lead me to what future awaiteth. [ a beat. ] When I have quit this place, no longer will I wait obedient. By mine own feet I will walk towards it.