COURT: Heart Game!

[upmoving]

[Your consciousness drifts in to the sound of discordant whispers. It sounds like a hushed argument in another room, something you can't quite catch. You're cold. Your skin tingles slightly, and then...]

Comments

Re: a quiet afternoon

[upmoving]

...No. I don't want any more resets. Besides, I can say "I wish things had been different" all I want, but that's not valuing the work I can do now, as me.

Re: a quiet afternoon

[royallyfuckedup]

But you do wish they'd been different.

Re: a quiet afternoon

[upmoving]

Don't you? Or rather, doesn't a part of you wish you hadn't been hurt? It doesn't mean I wish I hadn't known you, or anyone else. It's just a wish for better circumstances. But I wouldn't give up the person I am, even so.

Re: a quiet afternoon

[royallyfuckedup]

I wish for a great many things, Ariel. But this isn't about me.

I hope the person you are remains valuable to you. There was a while, still is, that I've worried you wanted to simply disappear.

Re: a quiet afternoon

[upmoving]

...Ah, well. There are good days and bad days.

[He still does want that, sometimes. There's a reason this place is so perilously fragile, as is the person in it. He's only just beginning to form this identity, and a sense of confidence.]

Re: a quiet afternoon

[royallyfuckedup]

I'd appreciate it, if you stuck around.

Re: a quiet afternoon

[upmoving]

I'm doing my best.

Re: a quiet afternoon

[royallyfuckedup]

Yes...

[He hasn't touched his parfait, though he loves them. So now he does, picking up a spoon and avoiding a response by taking a bite, thinking.]

Re: a quiet afternoon

[upmoving]

...Mm. [He's not really eating his either. Tristan's presence is still far too unnerving. But he at least steals the whipped cream from on top, trying not to be too obviously on edge.]

Re: a quiet afternoon

[royallyfuckedup]

Would I be correct in assuming there's nothing I can do here that won't hurt you?

Re: a quiet afternoon

[upmoving]

Mostly, yes. I'm sorry for that.

Re: a quiet afternoon

[royallyfuckedup]

[He nods and stands.]

Thank you for the parfait, Ariel.

Re: a quiet afternoon

[upmoving]

You're welcome...

[He watches, warily. Not quite comfortable as long as he's there.]

Re: a quiet afternoon

[royallyfuckedup]

[Well he does move to the blackboard, picking up the chalk.]

Re: a quiet afternoon

[upmoving]

[He follows, because that's dangerous. What is Tristan going to write? Ariel doesn't really have the power to change it on his own.] What are you doing?

Re: a quiet afternoon

[royallyfuckedup]

...Can you tell me when it was you stopped trusting me?

Re: a quiet afternoon

[upmoving]

That's... There's not really a single moment. I don't entirely distrust you now. It's complicated, Tristan.

Re: a quiet afternoon

[royallyfuckedup]

Yes. It always has been.

[He writes on the board anyway, in his usual neat, flowing cursive. Happiness. He sets the chalk down.]

Re: a quiet afternoon

[upmoving]

[Oh no that's too cute. And he feels kind of bad for being so concerned.]

...Thank you.

Re: a quiet afternoon

[royallyfuckedup]

I hope you flourish.

[Even if he resents their entire part of Ariel deeply.]

Where should I go?

Re: a quiet afternoon

[upmoving]

Ah... Well, you could go back. There's more of "me" you haven't seen. Or you could go through the mirror again. But you know, you're almost gone.

Re: a quiet afternoon

[royallyfuckedup]

I'm aware. What happens when I vanish?

Re: a quiet afternoon

[upmoving]

You might leave. Or you might go somewhere else.

Re: a quiet afternoon

[royallyfuckedup]

It's probably best if I don't worry you by continuing through this part of your heart.

Re: a quiet afternoon

[upmoving]

Then I suppose it's the mirror. Though I hope you'll be careful.