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Entry tags:
- critical role: fearne calloway,
- fgo: altria caster,
- genshin impact: kaveh,
- genshin impact: wanderer,
- jujutsu kaisen: yuki tsukumo,
- library of ruina: angela,
- library of ruina: argalia,
- library of ruina: yesod,
- limbus company: don quixote,
- limbus company: emil sinclair,
- limbus company: hong lu,
- limbus company: kromer,
- limbus company: yi sang,
- zero escape: junpei
video, @DONQUIXOT3
[ you know her. you don't know her. you will know her, soon enough.
miss don quixote, brightly beaming, is not alone today. she has with her... three young men sat with various levels of comfort on a couch, all dressed in somewhat matching holiday sweaters.
only somewhat. herself? a normal cozy cream-colored one with cat paws trailing from one shoulder down. normal. she loves her friends, promise. ]
Salutations!!! Prithee, turn thy gaze, open thine ears, and pay mind to what this Don Quixote has to say! For two more of my coworkers hath arrived, and thus the Limbus Company is four strong!!! In addition to our stern boss, of course!!! I shall presently introduce the three here with some questions I have thus prepared.
[ let her... here is here notebook, dolled up with stickers. aHem. ]
From left to right, as well as answering order [ , hello? one of them has an issue with that-- ] is Emil Sinclair, Yi Sang, and Hong Lu. Young Sinclair is one who shall be more familiar to others by face or mention, as we arrived together so long ago... but they are all precious companions of mine.
Favorite... I don't think about it much, but. Blue. Green, maybe? Or... No, blue and green.
[ should he add more? reasoning? or pick ONE? ]
They're both calming. Like thinking about a sunny day. [ nodding, before he- looks around. help. ] Um. Do I need to say more than that?
[ he's nailing this? why didn't he go last so he could get an "average response length" reference? ]
Nay, that is quite alright! I think thy reasoning is sound enough, Young Sinclair.
But T Corp. is behind him, and his now properly-functioning photoreceptors allow him to contemplate answers other than that muted sepia. It doesn't quite solve the fact that he's not used to having things like favorites or preferences, but he'd like to offer a proper response.
He wracks his brain, sorting through every single color he can recall until --
Ah. Of course. That would have to be his answer. ]
Yellow.
[ ...no, that's not quite right. The word doesn't fully capture the exact shade he's visualizing.
He thinks of the spicebush flowers, efflorescing from ideal soil. He thinks of the way their soft petals catch the spring sunlight, glowing radiant underneath the rays. He thinks of the way they burst into season, blanketing the hills in gold.
Yi Sang prepares to repeat those thoughts, but instead of voicing them, he stops. ...perhaps it is best to leave it there. The color of those flowers -- it's something for him to remember, for him to hold close.
So he nods, deciding that one word is sufficient after all. ]
...yellow. That would be my ideal color.
[ the carefree flicker of a little wave of hong lu's hand, ]
I really like the colour of Don's sweater~ If I had to describe it, it's the colour of putting your face into the fur of a cat, but only if the cat doesn't run away.
Sauerbraten.
[ ... ]
It's not really about the taste... Not that it isn't good. But it's more about the memories, which is probably for the best... I remember it taking a while, so I don't think I could make it now, even if I wanted to.
Perhaps the question should be approached from a different angle. There's no need to limit himself to foods that aren't downright offensive to his taste buds.
It would take far too long to sort through that list.
Instead, a memory rises and breaks the surface tension within his head:
Three children sit in a field, one of them clutching a woven basket. It holds a few round items wrapped in cloth. She takes one in each hand, offering them to both boys at her sides. "Here," she says. "I got these for us. Don't tell anyone though. I'm only giving them to both of you because you're my favorites out of everyone."
Her companions take their respective offerings. Whatever it is, it's warm to the touch. The boy with glasses picks at the cloth, unwrapping it with care in his lap. The other, quieter boy does the same until the hidden item is revealed.
"Baked potatoes? You got this excited over baked potatoes?" the boy with glasses laughs.
The girl sitting between them scowls and goes a bit red in the face. "Just shut up and eat it, okay? Do you know how expensive these were?"
The third child simply observes, clutching his cooling potato. The other boy and the girl will stop bickering soon enough. Despite the argument unfolding before him, he smiles because he knows they'll laugh it all off eventually and enjoy their snack together.
Yes, that's how things had always resolved. It had been so easy then.
Yi Sang blinks. ]
...could you repeat your question?
Most certainly!!! Thy favorite food, Yi Sang!
He glances down at his palm. It's empty, but there's a warmth lingering within it. ]
My favorite food?
[ Would they taste the same as the ones back then? ]
A potato cooked over an open flame; such is my answer. ...I shall have to procure some, enough to share with everyone else.
[ hong lu beams. ]
I was thinking that I didn't recognise any of the teas here. I wonder how long they're aged for, or if they're hand-picked. I prefer tea that's at least three hundred years old myself. That reminds me, is water supposed to burn? It really hurt this morning when the water in my pot exploded. Who knew that water could fight back? Eheh.
[ he hasn't- thought about any short term ones, honestly. at least not any he- wants to voice aloud. long term is- nda. just, nda. ]
Is a goal okay...?
[ wait. considering what he wants to answer with, that's- not a great lead up. he straightens up. ]
I-I'll answer with it anyway. I want to be a more confident, more certain person. I don't think I could've answered questions like this before, so maybe I'm doing a little better already.
[ he continues to really nail this. ]
Yi Sang finds himself grasping for an answer. The options materialize in reflective shards, different choices displayed upon each one's surfaces. Perhaps those dreams had existed all along, and he simply hadn't possessed the desire to look closely enough at any of them.
He sifts through all the possible responses. He doesn't think any of them are particularly grand, and many of them are blurry, as though despite clearly existing they had yet to take proper shape.
Eventually, he finds there is an answer he can latch onto. ]
I think... I should like to build a stable one day.
[ He's never done it before, and it's been awhile since he'd designed anything that resembled a building. On the other hand, that doesn't mean it can't be done. ]
It would not need to be particularly elaborate. So long as it is a comfortable home for one calf, that would be ideal. I would ensure its access to plenty of hay and clover for it to graze at its leisure.
[ Yi Sang pauses, visualizing the stable and allowing the fragment to sharpen into better focus. What else should it contain to ensure its future resident's happiness? None of his current expertise touched on veterinary care. Surely, there would be someone who could assist him?
After all, it takes a village of at least three to care for a calf properly. ]
[ hong lu's head tilts must in the way of a thoughtful cat, ]
Yi Sang, by the way, what does it mean if you dream about a shark in a coffin? Do you think that's a lucky symbol?
Yi Sang always takes everyone's questions seriously. ]
A coffin is closely associated with death. But that "death" does not necessarily mean a demise. It may symbolize a change, a new path revealing itself to the dreamer. For instance, Hong Lu, you may recall how it is said that the ashes of a fallen phoenix will form a nest for its reborn self's egg.
[ The coffin is the easy part. A pensive frown settles on his face. ]
Within this dream, does the shark yet live? Has it ceased in its struggles to breathe, transplanted from the sea to the land? Perhaps the dreamer has imagined a shark with lungs, molding the creature within their thoughts to avoid inflicting unnecessary cruelty upon it. And thus, it is left to the dreamer to determine the shark's purpose. An ill omen of challenges ahead, perhaps, due to a shark's reputation as a formidable foe. Yet others would perceive the creature as a protector of the sea, prepared to defend the dreamer with all its might.
[ Hong Lu, however, has asked what a combination of those two items might mean. Another thoughtful sound escapes from Yi Sang. ]
Indeed, such a dream may be a lucky symbol. It is within the realm of possibilities. Yet, it is equally as likely that one may interpret the shark within the coffin as a harbinger of misfortune.
[ ...did that answer the question? ]
[ can he ask that? he's asking. forget nailing anything, the look he gives here makes it absolutely clear he's wondering why these questions are escalating so quickly.
but he presses his lips together, swallows back his urge to sigh, and answers anyway. certain and true: ]
Confront. I would confront it. I don't want to live in ignorance, and look away from what scares me. I think... even if I was a little less happy in the end, knowing that I walked without running away would make me feel more... [ how could he describe it... ] More.
[ he's not sure how to explain it without thinking on it, ruminating, but no one's going to sit here and wait for emil sinclair to go through ten anxious paragraphs. he'll leave it at that. ]
Because it's quite different, it's much easier to answer. ]
Whether that fact would bring me additional happiness, or whether it would saddle me with new sorrows -- I... do not believe those outcomes affect my answer to that hypothetical. Favorable or not, I would confront it.
[ It's not a matter of being blissfully oblivious or bold enough to wager more out of one's life. No, it's much more straightforward than that. Hadn't he promised himself he wouldn't close his eyes anymore or turn from the world around him? ]
...I simply wish to live with my eyes open now. That is all.
[ Even if that information introduces harm, it is best to confront it in earnest. And if that information proves to be distressing, well, that's what one's companions are for, isn't it? If the weight of that information is too much to bear, and if holding it with his own hands risks shattering them into pieces, surely someone will reach out to support that weight? And if not, surely there will be someone to assist in plucking the broken pieces off the floor, to help with reassembling the fragments of himself?
Perhaps in the past, those musings would remain as questions. Nowadays, the question marks are replaced with periods. ]
[ hong lu hums; the cyan of his one blue eye glimmers. he says: ]
Does it matter, though? Life will always go on, even if what you're doing right now doesn't work out, so as long as you remember that, you'll be free of worries. So it doesn't matter if I know about it or not, I'll always be okay~
[ hong lu's neck cranes over, ]
Ah, Don, is this what they call 'food for thought'? Is this what commoners do to fill their stomachs when there isn't enough to eat?
[ what good answers she certainly expected from her companions, two of whom have faced themselves and one who has not. of course, don... wouldn't turn from something either, depending on what it is, but we haven't the time to unpack that right now. ]
Thank goodness.
[ oh. did he say that out loud? ]
I mean... R-reading and drawing. I've gotten to writing, here, and that helps me sort out my thoughts... I think I just like doing quieter activities that help me think, or relax. But I wouldn't mind trying other things I haven't done too.
Observing Sinclair and Don Quixote's chess games. They are... rather spirited when competing against one another. It is good to see them engaged in an activity.
[ Some might disagree that spectating his colleagues' chess games counts as a hobby, but it counts to him. Yi Sang enjoys watching both of them mapping out their moves, and he also finds himself feeling like a secret third participant. They do not know that he is not merely observing, but in fact, predicting what each of his colleagues' next moves might be.
Sinclair's strategies are easier to discern not because they are simple, but because they are proper. There's a certain elegance to his decision-making, even if he is slower to move compared to Don Quixote. Each choice is deliberate, seeking to corner Don's king before ruthlessly pursuing checkmate.
Don Quixote's moves are more challenging for Yi Sang to anticipate. In each of Sinclair's moves, there is always a sensible means for her to respond. But instead of selecting one of those options, she continuously surprises Yi Sang by choosing something completely different.
...there are, however, times when observing those games inflicts agony to the point where it stops being a fun hobby.
It's during those moments he finds himself hovering over Don Quixote's shoulder, gently offering her pointers after she's lost more than half of her pieces to Sinclair. And despite trying to be discreet about it, Sinclair catches him whispering to her every single time. It's a game within a game.
He probably shouldn't be helping Don in those moments. But the longer the game goes on, the more time he gets to spend witnessing his colleagues' moment of camaraderie. Allowing Sinclair to claim victory too swiftly means less time spent observing them having fun.
Maybe he'll ask to join in next time, requesting a match against the winner of their future game.
...which will probably be Sinclair. Yes. Definitely Sinclair. ]
[ hong lu folds his hands behind him, prim, much as if a child on a field trip; ]
Regardless, I hope to meet everyone here, and have lots of fun~
[ don turns the video back to herself and beams. ]
And that shall do for proper introductions! I ask that thee treat them as well as one may myself, and get to know each on thine own time as well as now as I have them held agai... kehm, that is, with their permissions for the evening.
[ and that'll do for that lengthy segment! off it goes, boys are freed, she is freed, now she just has to wait for all the friendship applications to roll in.
... did she not mention that's what this was for? oh well. ]
[ ooc: responses will come from everyone!!! this is all just for a bit of fun, go wild with it; click the questions for responses! ]
miss don quixote, brightly beaming, is not alone today. she has with her... three young men sat with various levels of comfort on a couch, all dressed in somewhat matching holiday sweaters.
only somewhat. herself? a normal cozy cream-colored one with cat paws trailing from one shoulder down. normal. she loves her friends, promise. ]
Salutations!!! Prithee, turn thy gaze, open thine ears, and pay mind to what this Don Quixote has to say! For two more of my coworkers hath arrived, and thus the Limbus Company is four strong!!! In addition to our stern boss, of course!!! I shall presently introduce the three here with some questions I have thus prepared.
[ let her... here is here notebook, dolled up with stickers. aHem. ]
From left to right, as well as answering order [ , hello? one of them has an issue with that-- ] is Emil Sinclair, Yi Sang, and Hong Lu. Young Sinclair is one who shall be more familiar to others by face or mention, as we arrived together so long ago... but they are all precious companions of mine.
Let us begin! What is thy favorite color?
Favorite... I don't think about it much, but. Blue. Green, maybe? Or... No, blue and green.
[ should he add more? reasoning? or pick ONE? ]
They're both calming. Like thinking about a sunny day. [ nodding, before he- looks around. help. ] Um. Do I need to say more than that?
[ he's nailing this? why didn't he go last so he could get an "average response length" reference? ]
Nay, that is quite alright! I think thy reasoning is sound enough, Young Sinclair.
But T Corp. is behind him, and his now properly-functioning photoreceptors allow him to contemplate answers other than that muted sepia. It doesn't quite solve the fact that he's not used to having things like favorites or preferences, but he'd like to offer a proper response.
He wracks his brain, sorting through every single color he can recall until --
Ah. Of course. That would have to be his answer. ]
Yellow.
[ ...no, that's not quite right. The word doesn't fully capture the exact shade he's visualizing.
He thinks of the spicebush flowers, efflorescing from ideal soil. He thinks of the way their soft petals catch the spring sunlight, glowing radiant underneath the rays. He thinks of the way they burst into season, blanketing the hills in gold.
Yi Sang prepares to repeat those thoughts, but instead of voicing them, he stops. ...perhaps it is best to leave it there. The color of those flowers -- it's something for him to remember, for him to hold close.
So he nods, deciding that one word is sufficient after all. ]
...yellow. That would be my ideal color.
[ the carefree flicker of a little wave of hong lu's hand, ]
I really like the colour of Don's sweater~ If I had to describe it, it's the colour of putting your face into the fur of a cat, but only if the cat doesn't run away.
Charming, are they not?! Now, thy favorite foods!
Sauerbraten.
[ ... ]
It's not really about the taste... Not that it isn't good. But it's more about the memories, which is probably for the best... I remember it taking a while, so I don't think I could make it now, even if I wanted to.
Perhaps the question should be approached from a different angle. There's no need to limit himself to foods that aren't downright offensive to his taste buds.
It would take far too long to sort through that list.
Instead, a memory rises and breaks the surface tension within his head:
Three children sit in a field, one of them clutching a woven basket. It holds a few round items wrapped in cloth. She takes one in each hand, offering them to both boys at her sides. "Here," she says. "I got these for us. Don't tell anyone though. I'm only giving them to both of you because you're my favorites out of everyone."
Her companions take their respective offerings. Whatever it is, it's warm to the touch. The boy with glasses picks at the cloth, unwrapping it with care in his lap. The other, quieter boy does the same until the hidden item is revealed.
"Baked potatoes? You got this excited over baked potatoes?" the boy with glasses laughs.
The girl sitting between them scowls and goes a bit red in the face. "Just shut up and eat it, okay? Do you know how expensive these were?"
The third child simply observes, clutching his cooling potato. The other boy and the girl will stop bickering soon enough. Despite the argument unfolding before him, he smiles because he knows they'll laugh it all off eventually and enjoy their snack together.
Yes, that's how things had always resolved. It had been so easy then.
Yi Sang blinks. ]
...could you repeat your question?
Most certainly!!! Thy favorite food, Yi Sang!
He glances down at his palm. It's empty, but there's a warmth lingering within it. ]
My favorite food?
[ Would they taste the same as the ones back then? ]
A potato cooked over an open flame; such is my answer. ...I shall have to procure some, enough to share with everyone else.
[ hong lu beams. ]
I was thinking that I didn't recognise any of the teas here. I wonder how long they're aged for, or if they're hand-picked. I prefer tea that's at least three hundred years old myself. That reminds me, is water supposed to burn? It really hurt this morning when the water in my pot exploded. Who knew that water could fight back? Eheh.
Have thee any dreams for the future? Be it in the near future or farther off, do tell!
[ he hasn't- thought about any short term ones, honestly. at least not any he- wants to voice aloud. long term is- nda. just, nda. ]
Is a goal okay...?
[ wait. considering what he wants to answer with, that's- not a great lead up. he straightens up. ]
I-I'll answer with it anyway. I want to be a more confident, more certain person. I don't think I could've answered questions like this before, so maybe I'm doing a little better already.
[ he continues to really nail this. ]
Yi Sang finds himself grasping for an answer. The options materialize in reflective shards, different choices displayed upon each one's surfaces. Perhaps those dreams had existed all along, and he simply hadn't possessed the desire to look closely enough at any of them.
He sifts through all the possible responses. He doesn't think any of them are particularly grand, and many of them are blurry, as though despite clearly existing they had yet to take proper shape.
Eventually, he finds there is an answer he can latch onto. ]
I think... I should like to build a stable one day.
[ He's never done it before, and it's been awhile since he'd designed anything that resembled a building. On the other hand, that doesn't mean it can't be done. ]
It would not need to be particularly elaborate. So long as it is a comfortable home for one calf, that would be ideal. I would ensure its access to plenty of hay and clover for it to graze at its leisure.
[ Yi Sang pauses, visualizing the stable and allowing the fragment to sharpen into better focus. What else should it contain to ensure its future resident's happiness? None of his current expertise touched on veterinary care. Surely, there would be someone who could assist him?
After all, it takes a village of at least three to care for a calf properly. ]
[ hong lu's head tilts must in the way of a thoughtful cat, ]
Yi Sang, by the way, what does it mean if you dream about a shark in a coffin? Do you think that's a lucky symbol?
Yi Sang always takes everyone's questions seriously. ]
A coffin is closely associated with death. But that "death" does not necessarily mean a demise. It may symbolize a change, a new path revealing itself to the dreamer. For instance, Hong Lu, you may recall how it is said that the ashes of a fallen phoenix will form a nest for its reborn self's egg.
[ The coffin is the easy part. A pensive frown settles on his face. ]
Within this dream, does the shark yet live? Has it ceased in its struggles to breathe, transplanted from the sea to the land? Perhaps the dreamer has imagined a shark with lungs, molding the creature within their thoughts to avoid inflicting unnecessary cruelty upon it. And thus, it is left to the dreamer to determine the shark's purpose. An ill omen of challenges ahead, perhaps, due to a shark's reputation as a formidable foe. Yet others would perceive the creature as a protector of the sea, prepared to defend the dreamer with all its might.
[ Hong Lu, however, has asked what a combination of those two items might mean. Another thoughtful sound escapes from Yi Sang. ]
Indeed, such a dream may be a lucky symbol. It is within the realm of possibilities. Yet, it is equally as likely that one may interpret the shark within the coffin as a harbinger of misfortune.
[ ...did that answer the question? ]
Now, a slightly more difficult one: If thee had the choice to live blissfully unaware of a fact that had the chance to detract from thy current happiness as much as it could increase it, would thee remain purposefully unaware or confront it?
[ can he ask that? he's asking. forget nailing anything, the look he gives here makes it absolutely clear he's wondering why these questions are escalating so quickly.
but he presses his lips together, swallows back his urge to sigh, and answers anyway. certain and true: ]
Confront. I would confront it. I don't want to live in ignorance, and look away from what scares me. I think... even if I was a little less happy in the end, knowing that I walked without running away would make me feel more... [ how could he describe it... ] More.
[ he's not sure how to explain it without thinking on it, ruminating, but no one's going to sit here and wait for emil sinclair to go through ten anxious paragraphs. he'll leave it at that. ]
Because it's quite different, it's much easier to answer. ]
Whether that fact would bring me additional happiness, or whether it would saddle me with new sorrows -- I... do not believe those outcomes affect my answer to that hypothetical. Favorable or not, I would confront it.
[ It's not a matter of being blissfully oblivious or bold enough to wager more out of one's life. No, it's much more straightforward than that. Hadn't he promised himself he wouldn't close his eyes anymore or turn from the world around him? ]
...I simply wish to live with my eyes open now. That is all.
[ Even if that information introduces harm, it is best to confront it in earnest. And if that information proves to be distressing, well, that's what one's companions are for, isn't it? If the weight of that information is too much to bear, and if holding it with his own hands risks shattering them into pieces, surely someone will reach out to support that weight? And if not, surely there will be someone to assist in plucking the broken pieces off the floor, to help with reassembling the fragments of himself?
Perhaps in the past, those musings would remain as questions. Nowadays, the question marks are replaced with periods. ]
[ hong lu hums; the cyan of his one blue eye glimmers. he says: ]
Does it matter, though? Life will always go on, even if what you're doing right now doesn't work out, so as long as you remember that, you'll be free of worries. So it doesn't matter if I know about it or not, I'll always be okay~
[ hong lu's neck cranes over, ]
Ah, Don, is this what they call 'food for thought'? Is this what commoners do to fill their stomachs when there isn't enough to eat?
[ what good answers she certainly expected from her companions, two of whom have faced themselves and one who has not. of course, don... wouldn't turn from something either, depending on what it is, but we haven't the time to unpack that right now. ]
Don't look so nervous, Young Sinclair! Lastly, thy favorite hobbies!
Thank goodness.
[ oh. did he say that out loud? ]
I mean... R-reading and drawing. I've gotten to writing, here, and that helps me sort out my thoughts... I think I just like doing quieter activities that help me think, or relax. But I wouldn't mind trying other things I haven't done too.
Observing Sinclair and Don Quixote's chess games. They are... rather spirited when competing against one another. It is good to see them engaged in an activity.
[ Some might disagree that spectating his colleagues' chess games counts as a hobby, but it counts to him. Yi Sang enjoys watching both of them mapping out their moves, and he also finds himself feeling like a secret third participant. They do not know that he is not merely observing, but in fact, predicting what each of his colleagues' next moves might be.
Sinclair's strategies are easier to discern not because they are simple, but because they are proper. There's a certain elegance to his decision-making, even if he is slower to move compared to Don Quixote. Each choice is deliberate, seeking to corner Don's king before ruthlessly pursuing checkmate.
Don Quixote's moves are more challenging for Yi Sang to anticipate. In each of Sinclair's moves, there is always a sensible means for her to respond. But instead of selecting one of those options, she continuously surprises Yi Sang by choosing something completely different.
...there are, however, times when observing those games inflicts agony to the point where it stops being a fun hobby.
It's during those moments he finds himself hovering over Don Quixote's shoulder, gently offering her pointers after she's lost more than half of her pieces to Sinclair. And despite trying to be discreet about it, Sinclair catches him whispering to her every single time. It's a game within a game.
He probably shouldn't be helping Don in those moments. But the longer the game goes on, the more time he gets to spend witnessing his colleagues' moment of camaraderie. Allowing Sinclair to claim victory too swiftly means less time spent observing them having fun.
Maybe he'll ask to join in next time, requesting a match against the winner of their future game.
...which will probably be Sinclair. Yes. Definitely Sinclair. ]
[ hong lu folds his hands behind him, prim, much as if a child on a field trip; ]
Regardless, I hope to meet everyone here, and have lots of fun~
[ don turns the video back to herself and beams. ]
And that shall do for proper introductions! I ask that thee treat them as well as one may myself, and get to know each on thine own time as well as now as I have them held agai... kehm, that is, with their permissions for the evening.
[ and that'll do for that lengthy segment! off it goes, boys are freed, she is freed, now she just has to wait for all the friendship applications to roll in.
... did she not mention that's what this was for? oh well. ]
[ ooc: responses will come from everyone!!! this is all just for a bit of fun, go wild with it; click the questions for responses! ]
no subject
Yi Sang gives Don's door a wary glance. Kromer could very well be chatting with them from the other side of the door. Fortunately, the woman's continues to speak, immediately diverting all of Yi Sang's attention to a different piece of concerning information. ]
...perhaps we will remain here for another five or six months.
[ If this is where Kromer ultimately ended up, was there any chance of those two showing up as well? There's a distant look in Yi Sang's eyes as his attention drifts away from the woman speaking to him from the device. ]
no subject
but someone told her she's not allowed to, and she's being so nice and cute and granting him that one little wish. Because every time she gives him something, it makes him unhappy. Sigh, it's soooo hard being in a relationship where you just can't win... )
I'd hedge my bets on it. None of us are any closer to figuring out how to return, and there's no hints around this empty shithole to help out! ( She stretches, shoulders cracking. ) So take it easy, relax, fall in love with someone you'll never meet again if you leave... You'll go crazy either way, so you might as well find something to do!
( a beat. )
I've been learning to cook, for example.
no subject
There's something surreal about having idle conversation with a person who, the last time you'd seen them, had torn you to literal shreds. It helps that she's not doused in blood and has two legs and two arms as opposed to -- yeah. ]
I see.
[ Another beat. ]
...what have you been cooking lately?
[ Because really, Yi Sang knows he's in no place to judge anyone else's desire to improve their culinary skills. ]
no subject
Some childhood favorites of mine. Gulashsuppe, baumkuchen, kaiserschmarrn... The sauce was the star of that one back in Calw—nothing like fresh picked apples from the orchard, you know?—but I've managed best I can here.
no subject
I do not recognize any of those dishes.
[ "Childhood favorites" says Kromer. Yi Sang doesn't know much about Kromer's childhood, given that the Golden Bough revealing Sinclair's misfortunes didn't disclose much about Kromer's past. ]
...were those dishes prepared by your family?
[ Kromer had parents, right? Probably?
It's probably futile trying to glean information from someone who'd met their untimely demise, but. Maybe it will prove to be useful in the future if he ever finds his way home. ]
no subject
When they still ate, yeah. ( smoothly, a small shrug. ) My mother used to make them, when I was younger. I'd hold onto her apron strings and watch.
( she talks about it like it happened to someone else, though. like it isn't her mother, or her memory, that she's speaking on, despite the wording. )
I remember a couple of things from then—not a bunch, since I don't even have to prep my own food back home, but enough that it's made picking up cooking pretty fun. Since I don't have a future back in the City, maybe I can just stick around here and become someone's cute little housewife instead.
( .......................she's not being serious about that. that's obvious. )
no subject
Between Kromer's delivery of the anecdote and the mere mundanity of the story, Yi Sang almost forgets Kromer's talking about herself. It's so... unexpectedly normal. ]
...indeed, observation can act as a sufficient method of instruction.
[ A pause as he parses Kromer's final thoughts. He can't actually tell whether or not she's being serious about settling down as someone's cute little housewife. Nor is there much he can think to say as Kromer reminds him that she's essentially a dead man walking. ]
I suppose learning to cook would be beneficial for me as well.
[ Maybe it's odd extending something easily mistaken as an olive branch to one's former enemy, but Yi Sang sees no point in holding grudges. There is no point in holding animosity towards a ghost. ]
...perhaps you would be willing to share some of your recipes?
no subject
her expression stays still, a blank little smile, eyes slightly wide as the words slowly register. he'd like to cook. he'd like to have some of her recipes, if she's willing to share. her gaze darts briefly to his comrades on the video, but they don't linger—yi sang is her conversation partner right now, after all.
they're just recipes. they're just pieces of a life she all-too-happily abandoned, no sentimentality to be found in the careful way she twists plaits of dough or the song she hums beneath her breath as she rhythmically chops vegetables. there is none because there can be none, should be none—the experiences she's achieved, that she's had thanks to n corp, take its place.
the memories there belong to someone else. those recipes belong to somewhere else, in the unfinished past.
she laughs after a moment, smacking a hard surface out of sight. )
Sure, why not! ( this isn't a betrayal of her principles or making friends with some robophile sympathizers. it's just food. they're just recipes. ) Where should I drop 'em off?
( because of course they're going to be handwritten. )
no subject
He notes her expression, the blank little smile, but then it's gone before he's had the chance to fully parse its meaning. He hadn't had the chance to dwell on it, to consider how different it was in comparison to all of his previous encounters with Kromer where she'd been more wild-eyed. ]
You may leave them at my residence, which is not far from here. Nor am I opposed to retrieving them from you once they are prepared.
[ He'd like for Kromer to select the option most convenient to her. After all, she's the one doing him the favor. ]
no subject
so, somewhat naturally, she holds up one finger. )
I'll leave them. ( back down it goes! ) Why, if you're home when I drop them off, I'll even show you the ropes on some of the trickier recipes. Pies aren't as easy as they look, you know.