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| G R E E N > You enter the door and find yourself in a glass box, suspended in the deep, dark ocean. Darkness surrounds you on all sides and once in a while, the box shakes. It'll be clear enough after a while that that's because of the movement of the water. The deep, dark water that they're surrounded by. Once in a while, something moves in the darkness, unnaturally large and much too close for comfort. Then... the noises. The moans and hisses of things living out there, in the deep. Then the words appear: |
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Agh.
Aaaaaaaah.
Wheezes.]
What...do we do?
What do I do?
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We fix this. Obviously.
[a puff. the answer of how still doesn't exist, but she can't show weakness now. even though her expression does flicker into uncertainty for a moment]
And you need to take it easy until then. I don't want you freaking out on me, okay?
We'll fix it.
[they have to fix it]
[. . . she has to fix it, since this is her fault]
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[WHEEZE]
Okay.
Okay. It's fixable. It doesn't... huuuurt...? Feels weird but doesn't hurt. It's. Fine. It's fine. Everything's fine.
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[it's somewhat comforting to know it doesn't hurt???]
If you aren't in agony then that's a point in our favor.
[a pause]
I am sooooo sorry.
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I mean, you did say you were shitty at gambling...
[...]
... Why is it paper?!
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Iiii sure did, but I prefer it when my awful luck only affects me, not those around me.
[she really does feel bad!!]
I don't know. [. . .] Do you have some past paper-related trauma in your life?
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I don't-- I don't remember.
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You don't?
[she had kiiiind of meant it as a joke, but his response was definitely a serious one]
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I don't remember anything. At all.
[OKAY!!!]
... Guess it was gonna come out eventually...
[He's just staring at his paper hand now.
...Scribbles... Meaningless scribbles that feel very familiar.]
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[a small sigh, and her reply is solemn]
I'm sorry.
[she wishes she could do more to help]
Do you at least remember what you were doing before you came here?
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[considering his day thus far:]
Don't really wanna talk about it. Right now. It didn't have much to do with paper though.
[THAT'S WHAT HE THINKS.]
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All right. I'm not here to interrogate you; don't worry.
But. . . hey! Look on the bright side. Remembering even a little bit is better than remembering nothing.
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There are no bright sides. This is the shittiest time.
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And I can't even in good conscience ask you to be optimistic.
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groans.
probs best to leave him alone for awhile.]
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[BECAUSE. . .]