It’s completely possible because we love you more than you don’t love yourself.
And I am not asking.
Before we were trapped here, I gave my family’s retainers a list of players close to my heart. I asked them to take care of us should anything happen. If you do not think you were at the top of this list, then you are the most foolish man I have ever loved.
[ It hurts. Having accepted the inevitable, it shouldn't; or perhaps, the lie that there was any means of escaping the pain was the most vicious one of all. ]
What I think of myself has nothing to do with my ability to survive without water.
What could you have told them, Hani? Do you know my real name? What country I live in? What I look like? How could they possibly have found me?
[ And, a beat delayed: ]
I am grateful for your love. The intention is enough.
… A forum I browsed once at an airport. Several games I played once, though one of them was special. One I’ve gone back to. While the point-and-click adventure was interesting and certainly thoughtful, it was the pet simulator that really caught my interest. After the misery of dying endlessly, the creator of these games still had some light in his heart, some sort of hope I felt. And it was soft. Innocent.
[ This reply takes a long time. Time to absorb every word, every nuance. To work through the tangle of emotions threatening to choke him. ]
...I didn't think anyone had played them, except for the people who complained on the forum. I don't know how you connected that handle to mine.
I made that game for a friend. A stranger. I wanted her to have one thing that felt like happiness to her. Or perhaps an obligation. But perhaps... it was those things you said, as well.
I don't remember anything that would need forgiving...
And I'm not certain I believe in fate. There may have been coincidences. But they were weighted by... the fact that you are the kind of person who takes note of things others wouldn't bother with. Poorly programmed games and patchwork people.
Only you could say something like that and not realize the significance of such a statement. What a wonder you are.
I love this patchwork person who has brought me so much joy and helped me carry my sorrow, when I didn't know I had any and didn't know I could. Who has never thought of me as any less. They are my treasure.
I am only waiting if you keep coming back. If you fail to show up, I will be very angry. You can forget, but you must return. You have to promise.
Yes. Happy though my heart hurts. What I saw through the looking glass before was only my own inexperienced reflection, so of course I could not understand these things. The lines in the sand - were they even my own? Did I draw them? I needed all of you to show me. Tentative, gentle words. Clumsy hands to pick me up and set me high on your shoulders. Everything you do, a warm hug.
...I can't believe it's taken me this long to realize how alike you and Ganymede are. So I suppose I know better than to try escaping a promise. "While I remember, I will return." I can offer that much.
Since coming here, I've realized — rather, I've started to believe. All of us carry a small piece of that understanding. I thought I could make sense of it on my own. But you showed me things as well.
[ Another pause, weighted. ]
Will you still love me if I forget what it means to be warm?
[ oh. it hurts, but they're so happy. they would not trade his words for anything. ]
Michel. I will never stop loving you. That will always remain a truth you can seek, and one that I can prove. Just ask. Again and again if you need to.
You mind may forget, but your heart knows. And if your heart has trouble, I'll teach you what you taught me. Wouldn't that be nice? Ganymede, too. So even if you forget, you must return.
No... You don't need to prove love. You can't. Some things simply have to be taken on faith. But I may still have to ask.
[ Again and again. Choosing to put his trust in something he can't see... it's getting harder and harder. ]
I don't know. I'm not certain how we can prove anything, when pieces of ourselves are disappearing. I don't remember how I met Ganymede. If I'm not the same person without those memories... that's only natural.
[ It's like changing the wiring on a board and expecting the output to remain constant. Of course it wouldn't. The ship of Theseus paradox, digitized. ]
Is it wrong to change? Do you have to stay the same?
[ change would happen with or without these memories, as quickly as the passing of a season or as slowly as the orbit of a comet seen every three-quarters of a century. ]
I don’t know if I can do that. I’ve changed so much. Do you love me differently? Do you think Ganymede would love you differently?
[ That, he sends out quickly, before he can hesitate long enough to trip over the words again. The rest takes longer. ]
I wanted to change. But there are pieces of myself I can't give up. If I had been willing to do that... there would have been a place for me in the world outside already. I don't regret throwing that away. I don't want an existence that isn't mine imposed over me. I see no difference between that, and never existing at all.
[ if they could reach through this screen and take his hand. they would be soothed by the existence of him. they could be an ocean and he could be a cloud rolling by and still, he’d try to shade all of them, concerned with covering every inch. ]
I like all the pieces of you. They will always have a place within me and within Ganymede. If you lose any, we’ll put you back together again. If you lose any, know that we could be searching through a mountain of souls and we’d recognize yours every single time.
If you go to Lily, if Lily takes you, I will show you these words you said. I’ll trust you to consider them seriously even if you aren’t in your right mind.
Will you tell me your name? Here, where it can’t be erased. Here, willingly, what you remember.
[ Would they? Could he ask that of any of them? Recognizing him even if eventually he no longer recognizes himself?
At least let him leave a trace. All he's ever done is try to leave behind traces, a monster raking its claws over the stones of the earth so at least some future explorer could see the gouges and realize that something once existed there. ]
Michel Bollinger. Cursed youngest son of the Bollinger family. Abnormal, inhuman, mad. That is who I am, and the only person I have ever been.
[ Even though all the doubts to the contrary dig their roots deep, deep deep. ]
...It's impossible for me to promise that I can hold anything for you in return. But I want to try. Anything you would entrust me with. I think... things that are painful aren't fading as quickly.
Thank you. I love you, Michel Bollinger. This will remain a truth between us.
[ the rest of their message is delayed for a time. then: ]
This is one. One memory I still have, though parts of it have faded. I’m not sure if it’s because of Lily or myself. I’m not sure if it’s painful, yet… echoing your words from earlier, it is a piece of me I cannot give up. It is a secret, perhaps too cruel of me to share. It is heavy, I think. Will you listen?
[ a locked box they’ve never known what to do with. sometimes flashes of its content come to mind for no reason at all. with these messages, with this patchwork person, could they let go at last? ]
If all I can do for you is listen, then yes. I will hold it as gently as I can.
[ He doesn't fear its weight. But secrets are becoming too risky, anymore. Things kept buried vanish under the cover of snow, until no one will ever know they were there.
And on some level, he needs this. Perhaps... just to know he can help Hani, the way Hani has helped him. ]
[ it starts out whimsical as though they can’t help it: ]
As you know, Ganymede’s side of the family is very beautiful, and I am related to him through my mother. It is a fact that we are both extremely beautiful.
So when a Tachibana child was born with white-blond hair and blue eyes, it caused quite a stir. Our family dates back further than the United States I am told; we are very traditional and equally superstitious.
I say “we”… But I suppose I mean “them.”
As Tachibana Hayanari, I was worshipped as a special existence. A child touched by beauty and luck. Surely, they said, I had been chosen by the gods. My hair was kept only a little shorter than it is on my avatar and there were… so many white kimonos. So many. To keep me pure; to make sure everyone knew what I was when they saw me.
One day, there was a man. I don’t… remember what he looks like. But I do remember realizing in a curious way that he wanted me. He was always following me with his gaze. One day, he followed me to my room. He asked if he could touch me, and I said yes. I wonder why… I don’t remember what I was thinking. I remember the futon under me. My white kimono. My tabi socks. I remember the blue mountain sky out of the corner of my eye through the open sliding doors. It was very beautiful, the colors. I wanted to leave to see more of it. And I did, soon after.
That is my family’s secret. You don’t need to say anything about this. I may forget soon anyway.
[ Hani might not have been certain, but he is — it's painful. It hurts. Deeply, fiercely. But he can feel that pain etching the memory into his bones, in a place where the shifting tides here can't carry it away again.
Good. Good. He wants to be able to hold onto at least a small piece of them. ]
I'll keep it for you, even if you forget. It isn't too heavy for me.
I won't say anything about this until I need to. But I will say... I am neither an angel nor a demon, no matter what others want from me. And you are not chosen by the gods. You're only... yourself. That's more than enough of a special existence.
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no subject
You're asking for things beyond my control.
no subject
And I am not asking.
Before we were trapped here, I gave my family’s retainers a list of players close to my heart. I asked them to take care of us should anything happen. If you do not think you were at the top of this list, then you are the most foolish man I have ever loved.
no subject
What I think of myself has nothing to do with my ability to survive without water.
What could you have told them, Hani? Do you know my real name? What country I live in? What I look like? How could they possibly have found me?
[ And, a beat delayed: ]
I am grateful for your love. The intention is enough.
no subject
[ beloved fool. ]
… A forum I browsed once at an airport. Several games I played once, though one of them was special. One I’ve gone back to. While the point-and-click adventure was interesting and certainly thoughtful, it was the pet simulator that really caught my interest. After the misery of dying endlessly, the creator of these games still had some light in his heart, some sort of hope I felt. And it was soft. Innocent.
Well, Michel?
no subject
...I didn't think anyone had played them, except for the people who complained on the forum. I don't know how you connected that handle to mine.
I made that game for a friend. A stranger. I wanted her to have one thing that felt like happiness to her. Or perhaps an obligation. But perhaps... it was those things you said, as well.
no subject
It’s just like you, Michel, to see complaints and still offer your creations up for free. To still share parts of yourself with those who stay.
I hope it felt like happiness to her. It certainly is a drop of happiness for me, in a pool of everything else you’ve given me.
What are the chances, right? Doesn’t this all just mean we were meant to meet you and love you all along?
no subject
[ An awkward send, mid-message. A pause. ]
If it made you happy, I'm glad. Maybe it will offset a little of the trouble I've put you to.
no subject
But you always forgive me.
no subject
And I'm not certain I believe in fate. There may have been coincidences. But they were weighted by... the fact that you are the kind of person who takes note of things others wouldn't bother with. Poorly programmed games and patchwork people.
no subject
I love this patchwork person who has brought me so much joy and helped me carry my sorrow, when I didn't know I had any and didn't know I could. Who has never thought of me as any less. They are my treasure.
no subject
[ He's grateful. And it hurts. He can't think of the right thing to say, and he knows he won't until later. He keeps gambling on a later. ]
...None of this was lines in the sand to you after all. Did that make you happy?
no subject
Yes. Happy though my heart hurts. What I saw through the looking glass before was only my own inexperienced reflection, so of course I could not understand these things. The lines in the sand - were they even my own? Did I draw them? I needed all of you to show me. Tentative, gentle words. Clumsy hands to pick me up and set me high on your shoulders. Everything you do, a warm hug.
no subject
Since coming here, I've realized — rather, I've started to believe. All of us carry a small piece of that understanding. I thought I could make sense of it on my own. But you showed me things as well.
[ Another pause, weighted. ]
Will you still love me if I forget what it means to be warm?
no subject
Michel. I will never stop loving you. That will always remain a truth you can seek, and one that I can prove. Just ask. Again and again if you need to.
You mind may forget, but your heart knows. And if your heart has trouble, I'll teach you what you taught me. Wouldn't that be nice? Ganymede, too. So even if you forget, you must return.
... Are you drifting toward him?
no subject
[ Again and again. Choosing to put his trust in something he can't see... it's getting harder and harder. ]
I don't know. I'm not certain how we can prove anything, when pieces of ourselves are disappearing. I don't remember how I met Ganymede. If I'm not the same person without those memories... that's only natural.
[ It's like changing the wiring on a board and expecting the output to remain constant. Of course it wouldn't. The ship of Theseus paradox, digitized. ]
no subject
[ change would happen with or without these memories, as quickly as the passing of a season or as slowly as the orbit of a comet seen every three-quarters of a century. ]
I don’t know if I can do that. I’ve changed so much. Do you love me differently? Do you think Ganymede would love you differently?
no subject
[ That, he sends out quickly, before he can hesitate long enough to trip over the words again. The rest takes longer. ]
I wanted to change. But there are pieces of myself I can't give up. If I had been willing to do that... there would have been a place for me in the world outside already. I don't regret throwing that away. I don't want an existence that isn't mine imposed over me. I see no difference between that, and never existing at all.
no subject
[ if they could reach through this screen and take his hand. they would be soothed by the existence of him. they could be an ocean and he could be a cloud rolling by and still, he’d try to shade all of them, concerned with covering every inch. ]
I like all the pieces of you. They will always have a place within me and within Ganymede. If you lose any, we’ll put you back together again. If you lose any, know that we could be searching through a mountain of souls and we’d recognize yours every single time.
If you go to Lily, if Lily takes you, I will show you these words you said. I’ll trust you to consider them seriously even if you aren’t in your right mind.
Will you tell me your name? Here, where it can’t be erased. Here, willingly, what you remember.
no subject
At least let him leave a trace. All he's ever done is try to leave behind traces, a monster raking its claws over the stones of the earth so at least some future explorer could see the gouges and realize that something once existed there. ]
Michel Bollinger. Cursed youngest son of the Bollinger family. Abnormal, inhuman, mad. That is who I am, and the only person I have ever been.
[ Even though all the doubts to the contrary dig their roots deep, deep deep. ]
...It's impossible for me to promise that I can hold anything for you in return. But I want to try. Anything you would entrust me with. I think... things that are painful aren't fading as quickly.
no subject
[ the rest of their message is delayed for a time. then: ]
This is one. One memory I still have, though parts of it have faded. I’m not sure if it’s because of Lily or myself. I’m not sure if it’s painful, yet… echoing your words from earlier, it is a piece of me I cannot give up. It is a secret, perhaps too cruel of me to share. It is heavy, I think. Will you listen?
[ a locked box they’ve never known what to do with. sometimes flashes of its content come to mind for no reason at all. with these messages, with this patchwork person, could they let go at last? ]
no subject
[ He doesn't fear its weight. But secrets are becoming too risky, anymore. Things kept buried vanish under the cover of snow, until no one will ever know they were there.
And on some level, he needs this. Perhaps... just to know he can help Hani, the way Hani has helped him. ]
cw: CSA, dub-con
As you know, Ganymede’s side of the family is very beautiful, and I am related to him through my mother. It is a fact that we are both extremely beautiful.
So when a Tachibana child was born with white-blond hair and blue eyes, it caused quite a stir. Our family dates back further than the United States I am told; we are very traditional and equally superstitious.
I say “we”… But I suppose I mean “them.”
As Tachibana Hayanari, I was worshipped as a special existence. A child touched by beauty and luck. Surely, they said, I had been chosen by the gods. My hair was kept only a little shorter than it is on my avatar and there were… so many white kimonos. So many. To keep me pure; to make sure everyone knew what I was when they saw me.
One day, there was a man.
I don’t… remember what he looks like. But I do remember realizing in a curious way that he wanted me. He was always following me with his gaze. One day, he followed me to my room. He asked if he could touch me, and I said yes. I wonder why… I don’t remember what I was thinking.I remember the futon under me. My white kimono. My tabi socks. I remember the blue mountain sky out of the corner of my eye through the open sliding doors. It was very beautiful, the colors. I wanted to leave to see more of it. And I did, soon after.
That is my family’s secret. You don’t need to say anything about this. I may forget soon anyway.
no subject
Good. Good. He wants to be able to hold onto at least a small piece of them. ]
I'll keep it for you, even if you forget. It isn't too heavy for me.
I won't say anything about this until I need to. But I will say... I am neither an angel nor a demon, no matter what others want from me. And you are not chosen by the gods. You're only... yourself. That's more than enough of a special existence.