magic, madness, heaven, sin

[reddosmod]

JULY 2022 EVENT

IMAGE DESCRIPTORS IN ORDER OF APPEARANCE
Prompt One
[Image One: A statue of Lady Justice with her sword against a man's throat. ]
[Image Two: A pair of hands covered in blood. ]

Prompt Two
[Image One: Two people trying to reach one another being pulled back by multiple, disembodied hands. ]
[Image Two: A feminine figure lying on a boardwalk above the ocean. ]

Prompt Three
[Image One: A pair of black scales held by a statue. ]
[Image Two: A single hand reaching up from the water, implying drowning. ]

[NAVIGATION]

Prompt 1 • Prompt 2 • Prompt 3 • Plotting • Newsletter

[JUMP TO COMMENTS]

GOOD AND EVIL

WHEN: July
WHERE: All over
CONTENT WARNINGS: Violence, revenge, possible torture, possible death, mental manipulation

---

An excerpt from the book Thus Comes the Reckoning:

Are we inherently good or evil? Are we hard-wired for empathy? Or is violent behavior our innate reaction when the world has done us wrong? This is something that has been debated for centuries, even in the times Before Sodder. Have we evolved since the Dreamless World? Since the Nightmare? Have the Pthumerians and their blessings made us more peaceful and understanding?

While it is true that our world is more generous and caring than the ones we have read about in the Dreamless World, where in spite of our shortages, we want for nothing that we truly need, the very existence of corruption and beasthood should speak of our true natures and of the true natures of Sleepers. There is no time that this is more prominent in our world than in the month of July, when the Reckoning holds sway.

It is unclear if it is the unbearable heat, the Pthumerian's influence, or perhaps just our true selves coming forth, but each July is the prelude to chaos. The pleasantries die off, the generosity wanes, and we forget the lessons of our more kind and gentle benefactors. Fist fights over minor disagreements, people attacking one another with weapons when they don't get their way or wait too long in line, and murders over the loss of a game. Does the summer make monsters of us all? Or does the Beast Moon simply encourage what is already inside of us?

Sleepers will find themselves encouraged towards violence. Many will be drawn to do evil. They will feel a pull to hurt others, particularly those who have hurt them first. Anger will seem like a natural state and many will find that they have lost all ability to reason when they become even minorly frustrated. Vigilante justice will seem like a great idea. Did someone hurt your loved one? Then tear them apart! Did a person borrow something from you and never return it? End them. Criminal activity will skyrocket, particularly violent criminal activity, throughout the month of July. People will feel more inclined to steal, to damage property, to kill, and to get revenge. Torturing others will seem like a perfectly reasonable idea. It is the month to do so and it might even feel good to hurt other people.

Sleepers will also feel violently protective of those they love. They will want to make sure that the violent crimes happening to other people doesn't happen to their people and they might go to such extremes as locking their loved ones up so that nothing can get to them. It's an obsessive need to protect and not let go. Someone might even feel so inclined as to kill their friends just to make sure that no one else can hurt them.

On the flip side, those who manage to resist the violent urges will be more inclined to help those who are violent. Even if you are someone who has never wanted to help another person, you will be drawn to do good. It's not impossible to talk others down, to sway them to being better people and to remembering who they are. It's just a lot of work. But still, those who are impacted by the good will feel that same need to protect others; only for them, it doesn't have to necessarily be someone they know. They want to do the right thing, to protect people from themselves. Unlike the evil, they will know there are limits, and they will not hurt others in their attempt to protect them. But they may end up being willing to, possibly uncharacteristically, sacrifice themselves to do so.

QUICK FACTS: 1. You can only be impacted by The Good or The Evil at one time. Someone who is Good can be corrupted into becoming Evil. If someone is talked down from being Evil, they can either go back to being their normal selves, or they can become impacted by The Good instead. This can happen as many times in the month as possible, but they can only be Good or Evil at one time. You can not be both at once.

2. Characters who can usually heal demons/possessions/etc. can cure Evil in people. Their powers will work the same as they would in their canon/from their blood powers. Game based items that would normally cure corruption however will NOT work to cure Evil. They will still work to cure corruption/beasthood.

3. The Reckoning can still punish you. Just because you're being influenced by outside forces won't matter to her. If she catches you doing something bad and it isn't for revenge purposes, she will punish you as she sees fit. This is left up to player interpretation.

[JUMP TO TOP] • [JUMP TO COMMENTS]

FORTUNE'S FOOL

WHEN: July
WHERE: All over
CONTENT WARNINGS: Star-Crossed lovers, encouraged suicidal ideation, possible death

---

Love. A complicated feeling that puts people into complicated circumstances. And yet, people will find themselves focused on this emotion more so than usual this month. For someone who is already in love, the emotions will become even stronger, almost overwhelming, wanting to burst out of them like a song. For those who were not in love before, they may find themselves suddenly easily falling for others. Maybe they will love multiple people or maybe just one, but love will be an all consuming emotion to those who fall victim to it.

The only problem is that love isn't always accepted. People who are deeply in love will suddenly start to feel persecuted and judged from those around them. They will feel as though their love is unallowed, that the person that means the most to them is being rejected by their family, their friends, by society itself. It doesn't matter if that's the truth: there's just something inside of people that makes them thoroughly convinced that their love is not meant to be. Star-Crossed. Unattainable.

There will be an increased urge to solidify that love as being real and unbreakable. Maybe this is done through fighting back against those who are saying no. Maybe it comes in the form of secretly saying vows and loved ones spiritually tying themselves together forever. Or maybe in the end, the only true way that lovers feel they can truly be together... is in death. All of these will seem like reasonable options— or maybe even the only option. Love is never ending, after all, even if life is.

QUICK FACTS: 1. Anyone can fall in love with anyone else. It doesn't have to be the character that you're already shipping with if all players agree! You can fall in love with someone you know, someone you've just met, or even a total stranger. Love is a gift to everyone, right??? Who needs pesky things like introductions.

2. You do not have to commit suicide. You can, of course, and many will definitely feel drawn to it with the basis of the prompt, but it is not required. Please make sure to mark all threads accordingly!

3. The persecution against your relationship does not have to be real. You can, however, tie this into the first prompt, and have even the smallest slights be reason to think that your love is persecuted. Similarly, people who are impacted by the first prompt may be more likely to actually shun those who are in love. Feel free to work with it however you see fit!

[JUMP TO TOP] • [JUMP TO COMMENTS]

OUR OWN PRISONS

WHEN: July
WHERE: All over, but particularly by the ocean.
CONTENT WARNINGS: Self-hatred, judgement, suicidal ideation, homicidal ideation, possible drowning.

---

Everyone has personal flaws. Things about themselves they don't like, reactions they wish they didn't have, habits that they want to break. Sometimes the awareness of flaws can outweigh the awareness of our strengths as well. It's easy to get caught up in the feeling that we're less then perfect, that we'll never be able to fix ourselves no matter what we do.

This month, those feelings seem to be amplified. Sleepers will see flaws everywhere; in the people they love, in the Trenchies, and most heavily in themselves. Feelings of self-hatred and judgement will be amplified and even those who are usually confident in themselves will find that they're suffering from it. Sometimes these feelings may manifest as a simple bout of anger and depression; but for others, it can become more severe quickly.

Those who find themselves suffering heaviest from these feelings will feel called to the ocean. Maybe it's a desire to go back to a squid form, a place that's simpler and more straight forward. Or maybe it's the unbearable heat that's putting these thoughts in someone's head and they'll feel like going for a swim would cure it. But there's something inside everyone that knows that if they go into the ocean, they might not come back out again.

Sleepers will feel like the ultimate judgement is waiting for them out there. If they are seeing flaws more in themselves, being by the ocean will amplify feelings of suicide. If they're seeing flaws in everyone else, they might feel compelled to bring those people down to the ocean to drown them. The ocean, associated so heavily with rebirth, could be the very thing to cleanse people of their imperfections, after all. Maybe it would be a favor to everyone if someone just gave in and tried to fix themselves and others. For the good of Trench.

QUICK FACTS: 1. These feelings can cause people to become more corrupt. The longer they are exposed to these feelings, the closer they will get to high levels of corruption, and eventual beasthood.

2. Because these feelings can cause corruption, they can also be relieved through the same methods as corruption. Talking, touching, Moon Drops, get some therapy, whatever the player chooses.

3. People who do not address their feelings and/or who spend too much time by the ocean will inevitably deal with feelings of suicide and/or homicide. Please be sure to handle these topics appropriately and content warn your threads.

[JUMP TO TOP]

CODING

Comments

[entreats]

[ The aftermath of the chaos that had ocurred at her house this month has been rough on Ange. The initial days after the incident she couldn't even do as much as get out of bed, really, and though she did quickly start to regain energy again, Ange hasn't found herself taking walks by herself out as often this month - perhaps out of the worry that she might end up caught up in yet another thing. Worried that the beast in her may start to creep out all over again.

But she knows she can't stay cooped up inside forever. So after a while, by the end of the month, Ange does go out for walks by herself again. She decides one of the first places she wants to see again is the beach, so she heads in that direction—

Only to see something that threatens to stop her heart right inside of her chest.

It's not akin to what she has had to deal with this month. But the sight of someone very familiar right there, stepping into the ocean, threatening to walk out into it.. it's exactly like her nightmares from last month.

It immediately makes Ange stop thinking about her worries about beasting out again if she gets too worked up. It's too late anyway. She's already worked up at the very sight of Peter taking a step, and then another. To a point where Ange's feet move before anything else does, before her brain even fully reacts. The girl starts to run as quickly as she can in her current, still slightly weakened condition, her feet almost sliding away in the sand with how desperately she's trying to get closer to where Peter is as quickly as possible.

Realising that she might not make it before the other has already stepped way too far into the water, she instead calls out as she runs. ]

Peter!

[ There's nothing casual about it. Nothing flat, like Ange's tone often tends to be in normal circumstances - though Peter has already heard emotion plenty of times before in her tone, the sort of thing Ange only reserves for the people she feels close to, and comfortable with.

But this time it's even more than that. Even though she's only saying his name, something about the volume and tone alone make it a desperate plea all by itself. ]

[possessum]

( The water's at his calves now. It feels nice, the way the shoreline waves push against him and then pull backwards, gentle but with an underlying force. It's helping him, he realises. Helping guide him out exactly where it wants him. It knows what to do. He doesn't have to think anymore, or feel anymore, or be anymore.

Not even Paimon will be an issue, here. The demon's.... silent, these past couple days. Dormant, maybe. It's almost like he's shut down, maybe after what happened with Luna. Maybe after so much negative energy this month affecting him; it's like he's shorted out. Otherwise surely Paimon would be trying to stop this — and he has all the capability to stop it. He can make this body breathe underwater, stop it from drowning.

But he won't, today. The demon's not awake, and he won't wake up, Peter thinks. He'll be gone before Paimon can wake. It'd be for the best if neither of them woke up again. Then no one could be hurt by them. ...And Luna could be free from them. She'd be free.

The water's slipping up over his knees, when someone calls his name.

It takes Peter a long moment to register the name, process the desperate tone behind it, but he does pause. Slowly, he turns his head so that he can see who it is running towards him. )

Ange...

( His tone isn't completely lifeless, but it's... distant. Detached, and he's half-lidded as he looks at her. Still, there's something that gently flickers there in him, a little sting of sadness through the numb. He'll miss Ange.

His brow knits just a little, even if his voice stays too calm and too empty. He sounds like an echo of himself, a shell. )

It's all right.

[entreats]

[ There's a relief, at least, in hearing him actually speak to her. In even just seeing him react to her yelling and her running, turning his head to look at her. For a moment Ange was terrified that she was witnessing the way people disappear from this place for the first time - because even though plenty of people left her already, she never saw them leave. People speak of them going back into the ocean though, so she was worried this was that. Peter mindlessly leaving, taken over by something else.

It doesn't make this situation much better, mind you, because the possibility left for what this is, one confirmed by what Peter is saying here, is also awful. Terrible. But at least.. there's a chance there, Ange thinks. As long as Peter is here, as long as he's still talking to her, there's a chance.

So Ange doesn't stop running, even as she meets the line where sand meets water. She keeps going, legs and feet splashing in the water, all the way until she's right there with Peter. Going out into the water might not be the best idea for someone who only barely knows how to swim and is a lot shorter than Peter to begin with, but she can't help it. At a moment like this, she just wants to be as close to him as possible.

.. though said proximity also makes the emotion in her own eyes very, very apparent. It's not like he's never seen her emotional before, but it's clearer right now than it has ever been. Like the hollowness in his own eyes is made up for the fact that Ange seems to have an entire storm's worth of emotion in her own. ]

No, it's not!

[ There's no hesitation in saying that. Only desperation. Ange is even saying it through quick, panted breaths, having to catch her breath after running all the way over to him here, standing in the water. ]

How is this alright?

[possessum]

( He watches her come closer, swallowed up by more water than he is, and a gentle frown touches his mouth at the way her eyes look. It's an upset that's rare for her, and it does stroke against something within him; he doesn't want to upset her. Part of why he wants to leave, thinks it's right to, is so that he doesn't hurt the people he loves, anymore.

Because he always has, hasn't he? Even Ange. She's had to help him in ways that she never asked to. It's not even necessarily Paimon who's the problem; she's comfortable with the demon. It's Peter who's the burden. How weak he is, how she's had to carry his weight and take his hand and keep him safe. He's sorry to her, and he's turning around to face her fully now, movements heavy and slow as the water clings to his jeans and makes it hard to move. )

Because... I shouldn't be here.

( He's never said it aloud. He's thought it, certainly, and he's said things around that concept to Luna, once. But never outright. Never like this. The words rub against the inside of his throat, make it feel raw. He swallows. He's hollow, empty, but somehow this still hurts. She knows what he's doing and she doesn't want him to go. )

And it'd be better if I wasn't. I've hurt.... everyone I love. Every single person. And I'm..... nothing, Ange. I'm nothing. I've always been nothing. I think... I've always known that.

( He slowly glances back out towards the expanse of dark ocean. )

I want to be nothing.

[entreats]

[ Even though the water isn't nearly high enough to drown them where they stand, it feels like the water is somehow washing right over them either way. It's what his words feel like, as Ange listens to them. Not because they're painful by themselves - they are, it hurts to hear a friend say something like that about themselves, to imagine what kind of emotional pit they must have been stuck in to reach that conclusion - but because they're so familiar.

Familiar enough to make it feel like she's being pulled under, even though she's still just standing there, an occasional wave crashing against her knees. I shouldn't be here, he says, and I want to be nothing, and Ange stares into Peter's eyes, so pitch-black, drawing her right back to the memory of a girl standing on the top of a skyscraper, staring at the world filled with dark shapes and flurorescent lights below, thinking this isn't the world I belong in.

It's too familiar. She hates it. Why does anyone else have to feel like that too? Why Peter, when he's already been through enough? When he should finally be getting some shot at being happy here?

Ange feels sick to her stomach, and she only manages to keep herself from straight on heaving by pressing her nails into the palms of her balled up fists as hard as she can, trying to center herself in the present rather than in that past moment. ]

That's not.. true.

[ She manages to say, slowly. Her throat feels to tight, her eyes growing watery, despite no tears falling. ]

I can't speak for anyone else, but.. you've never hurt me. I-- I want you here. Selfishly, yes, but also because you.. you deserve a chance for things to be better here.

[ After everything back home with his family, and how messed up that had been from the snippets she has both seen and heard of. ]

You deserve a chance to be able to be happy.

[possessum]

( Ange has a certain strength that not everyone does, and Peter knows it doesn't come from nothing. He's learned about her past over time. How she lost her whole family. How she was so.... alone. What her aunt had done to her. Ange understands things that some people can't, things that Peter feels so connected to her about. They're horrible things, painful ones, and some part of him whispers a reminder to himself that he promised once how he wouldn't leave her alone. Because they're friends, and they've lost so much, and through all of that loss and pain, all you can do is hold onto one another. The thought of leaving her behind... of leaving any of his loved ones behind... that's what kept him flinching away from the concept of disappearing whenever his thoughts would start nudging in that direction on his worst nights. The thought that he couldn't do that to them, because he knows what it's like.

But now... even though that thought does still hurt, it's more dully. Outshadowed by the relief that the ocean is offering to him. The thought that everything could end. Peter feels another wave brush forwards and then backwards again, tugging at his legs. He starts to follow it, but then Ange's words have him looking back up at her again. )

I don't.

( It's whispered, not because he's ashamed to say it any louder, but because there's no fight left in him. He's always known it, and it's been eroding him down and down over time, ever since Charlie's death. )

I don't deserve to be happy. I don't deserve to even be here. I should've.... went home, when we had the choice. When Deerington was ending, I should've... gone back. Because back home, I'm... I'm nothing. I'm gone.

( He doesn't know if he's dead, or fully overtaken by Paimon and trapped in his own body, but either way, there's no more Peter. He knows that much. He's seen glimpses of his own future, revealed to him by this place, and Deerington. If he'd chosen to go back home it'd be his ending, one way or another. The fact he's here, making a life for himself, with Luna, with his friends... he doesn't deserve this.

And he's finding more thoughts coming forth, things he's never said aloud, slowly bubbling up to Ange, because even in this moment she's a safe place. Despite the hollowness in his chest, Peter feels a fresh wave of tears welling up. How, how can he still have anything left inside to cry? )

I don't like myself. I don't like— being alive. I'm.... just a place for something else to live inside of, and I'm so.....I'm so tired.

extra emphasis cw: description and talk of past suicide

[entreats]

[ Just listening to this makes Ange's heart feel like it's being crushed. It's like there's two opposite forces pressing right against it. On the one hand is the fact that it hurts so much to hear someone so important say something like that about themselves, but then on the other side of her heart is the fact that it's like she's looking at a mirror reflection right now, a portal to the past. It's so painfully familiar.

Between those two forces, and the fact that she can see that he's about to cry as well as he says these things, Ange can feel her own tears starting to roll down her cheeks.

Without saying a word, she tries to quickly wade the distance between them. There's a desperate speed to the movement, and Peter will be able to feel it as Ange basically throws herself at him. Her arms move around him, hands digging into the fabric at the back of his shirt, her forehead resting against his chest.

She doesn't look up at him as she speaks. ]

Years ago I stood on the edge of the roof of a skyscraper.

[ Her voice is so tight, and it's obvious she's trying to talk through the tears, but she pushes on. This story is of no use unless she gets it all the way out here. ]

I.. I kept thinking. About how much I just didn't want to deal with anything anymore. About how-- how tired I was of everything. It felt like everything in my life was going wrong, and that everything would keep hurting forever. I thought that maybe it was because I was supposed to have died with my family, all those years before.. or that maybe I had actually already died with them there, and that the life I had been living after was nothing more than a daydream or a delusion flashing in front of my eyes. I thought I-- I wasn't supposed to live.

[ She's not even intentionally mirroring some of his words.

It's just that her feelings then, and his feelings now.. they're so close to being the same thing. The thought of it makes something in her chest twist, but she keeps clinging to Peter, like he might disappear into the ocean the moment she lets go. ]

So I stepped off the edge.

[ It sounds so simple when she speaks about it now, she thinks. Just a single step. ]

And.. you know, right? What they always say, about how people who commit suicide start regretting it the moment they're dying.. but that's nonsense. I-- I didn't feel anything like that at all. It just felt like I made the right decision. That there was no way my life was ever going to get better anyway. Like I'd finally, finally.. return to my proper place, and get to rest. [ The feelings feel so raw as she recalls them now, even though Ange has finally managed to abandon them. Maybe it's since she felt them so vividly for so long that she can recall them so perfectly, even now.

Her body shakes against him. ]

.. you know though, Peter? I.. did start regretting it. I started doing so back in Deerington, and even now. I was so convinced that my life wasn't going to change, and that I'd have to keep feeling that way forever, but I.. I just never imagined that sometimes stuff can change so radically.

[ Being dragged to another world. Meeting people you usually never would have met. Circumstances shifting in ways you never imagined, because everything always felt so rigid and heavy, like you'd never escape the shackles your past put around your limbs. ]

And if I had stayed dead, I never would have met Ruby. Or Luna, or any of our other friends. And then I..

[ She finally pulls back her face. Not relinquishing her hold on him, but she at least looks up at him, her gaze meeting his, the messy tears so easily visible. ]

I wouldn't have met you either, Peter. And then I-- I would've never known how easy it could be to talk to someone, weirdly enough almost from the start. Like there's something we share that just.. takes all barriers away. [ Even if Ange didn't initially realise said barrier breaker was shared trauma molding them into such similar beings. ] .. I know it probably sounds dumb. Like it couldn't possibly be true that anything could get better, or that heavy feeling could change. I know, if someone had told me stuff like this when I was standing on that skyscraper, I would've laughed at them and never believed it.

[ Because that's what happens when you're in that pit. Nothing could possibly convince you there's a light at the end of the tunnel when you've been wandering through darkness for years, no matter how logical the arguments for it are. ]

But.. I'll say it anyway. You belong here, Peter. You're so much more than just-- just some container for Paimon, or whatever. You're you, and I love you for it. [ It feels strangely easy to use that l-word with him. Maybe because it's something she feels so deep and instinctively in her bones. It's obviously platonic in nature, but so strong all the same.

Maybe it's because she knows that, more than anything, she wanted someone to come to her and tell her exactly that same word when she was on the ledge. Maybe it would have changed something. Anything. ]

And one day, it'll get lighter. So you.. you have to stay around for that day, okay..?

cont'd extra emphasis cw: past suicide, suicidal ideation, familial suicide, child death

[possessum]

( He doesn't want to hurt Ange with these words. Truly, he doesn't, and even in this state that he's in, affected by the pull of something strange and powerful, Peter might not say what he's saying to just anyone. But it's Ange, and he can talk to her, even if in the moment it's like this: hollow, just barely held in place where he stands. He wants to move back towards the deeper ocean. His body's tipping that way again, one foot shifting backwards against the wet sand beneath the black waves. Every so often, one laps up behind him, strong enough to rock his body a little bit.

Suddenly it comes — he wishes he'd left something for Luna, anything. Maybe Ange can take the bracelet that Luna made for him back, return it to her. He's still wearing it, blue beads resting against his wrist. He's about to reach for it with a dull empty ache and a voice whispering coward when there's movement and Peter's eyes are widening as Ange comes closer to him, a weight suddenly there against him, arms wrapped around his body, forehead to his chest. It's instinctive even now to hold onto her in return, to try to help keep her steady — his own arms move around his friend's, but he's breathing shallowly, eyes wide as he stares straight ahead. Please don't, he wants to say, starts to say. Don't hold on. This hurts too much, presses through that hollowness inside him and stings his heart so sharply.

'Years ago I stood on the edge of the roof of a skyscraper.'

Peter freezes. He understands in those seconds before she goes on to further explain, understands what she means. His heart staggers, he gives a soft whimpering exhale to the top of her head. Then he's listening as she speaks, and he's shuddering softly at the words. Like so many things between them, it feels familiar, like a special little place carved out that they both can occupy — a horrible place, empty and lonesome and hurting, but one that's shared. How many times has Ange said exactly how Peter feels? Formed words he never could say himself? He's thought the same, that he should have died with his family, that maybe everything that came after wasn't... real. That he's a faintly-shimmering ghost more than he is a real person at all anymore. That he wasn't supposed to live.

But she'd known a few steps further than him. She'd done it. Stepped off the ledge— Peter gives another soft sound, and he can feel her shaking too. It makes sense maybe, in some awful way. That she'd had that end. It feels like where their paths were always meant to head, maybe. The shadow of it has always followed him, lurked there at the edges of something. That unspoken thing in his family — what ruined his mother, the loss of her big brother to suicide. Charles was only sixteen when it happened. Peter never met the boy who never got to grow up to become a man, but he's always felt like maybe he knows him. He's... wondered, over the years, about him. Wondered just how lonely that boy was. How lost and trapped and suffocated he must have been against his own mother. How empty. Ange must have felt so empty too, because that's how it is, isn't it? Different from just plain sadness; you're empty. A hole.

He's crying softly as he listens. Once again, the concept of Deerington as a second chance — how she'd found people there, and reasons to want to keep going again. Peter's looking down at Ange as she pulls back enough so that she can see him — she's happy she met him, that they connected the way they did, and that she loves him.

There's a soft hitch of breath when she says it. That word still feels rare for him, despite the fact he's come to know it more, over time here. He knows he's loved — he knows, Luna loves him, and he has friends, and there were other people who came to love him who are gone now. Peter never imagined he could have so many who thought of him that way. And Ange's right, if she'd stayed dead... he wouldn't have come to love her, either. He wouldn't know the connection he has with her, the friendship. That special little space they both share with one another.

...And he wants to hang onto her like a tether, but something still pulls. The swell of warmth in him to hear his friend say such a thing erodes at the edges, as the waves push up against him from behind. There's something else. )

....If you knew how I really was, you wouldn't... you wouldn't. ( Love me. He can't even say the word out loud; it catches in his throat like a stone dropped down into a well. ) If you knew what I did, knew— how I did it—

( He doesn't want to tell her; he's been... so afraid for Ange to find out. But maybe if she does, she'll stop loving him. Let go of him, push him away. That's what he deserves, and it would make this all so much easier. The words are mumbled, almost slurred; he's overwhelmed by all of this and it makes him strange and slow. )

She was in... two pieces. Torn. She broke. ( His voice breaks too as he says it, right in half. He can only whisper the next words, shaking as he stands there, but he's leaning over a little, pushing some of his weight onto Ange. He's so tired. )

I killed her. She was just a little girl, and I killed her. My sister—

( He knows Ange saw Charlie once, in that memory. So small and strange and sweet, like a little bird. His sister was always so delicate and always so distant. )

She needed my help, needed me, but I— I wasn't there. I left her alone, and she— she broke— ( And he's collapsing downwards, knees finally buckling under the weight of everything. As soon as he loses his footing, it's too easy for the pressure of water to push him down even more, and Peter's kneeling right into the ocean, sinking down so far that he's almost doubled over (like his mother after she found what was left of Charlie in the backseat, his mother on her hands and knees, wailing in agony like an animal), waves against his chest. The water's cold, he's shuddering uncontrollably, splashes of salt water against his tongue, making him want to choke. )

I don't know what to do, Ange, I can't— I can't stop thinking about it, about her body, about my mom, screaming— What I did.... You shouldn't—!

( No one should love him. )

[entreats]

[ The words she was speaking and the memories she was recalling weigh so heavily on Ange's chest still that she doesn't fully recognize what's happening here until it's already happening. Peter leaning over, heavier and heavier, until he seems to bend, to collapse. The boy slips straight out of Ange's arms, instead falling until he's right down there in the water. Thankfully it's not deep enough for him to drown, but she can see the waves crash right up against him, and the words that continue to spill out like a flood.

Words that make no sense to her at first, but then slowly start to assemble just a little bit. Just enough to form a picture. Not a complete one, but at least the outlines of it, just enough to give Ange a faint idea of what this is about. Peter's sister - the one who had been curled up with him in bed, his little sister - died. In a violent way, somehow. And Peter had something to do with it, though judging by his words, it's more due to negilience rather than through some direct act.

(Of course it's not a direct act, Ange thinks. Peter is-- He's not like that. He wouldn't just kill someone. If there's anything that keeps Ange together at all times, it's her unwavering belief in the people she loves, her faith that they're not like that.)

It's overwhelming to switch from thinking about the worst moments of her own life to this, but Ange forces her mind to shift over. It's not impossible when she's been doing that so often in her life to cope, and it helps that focusing on Peter completely in this moment allows her to fully leave her own thoughts and memories behind.

She moves to squat down, uncaring how wet the water is getting her at this point. She has to be on his level, after all. ]

Peter. Peter.

[ She reaches out, hands on his shoulders, squeezing. Trying anything to get his attention. ]

Peter, look at me.

[ There's so much she could say here. So many thoughts on her mind as she tries to fit this new information into everything she knows about Peter, trying to figure out what it means.

But saying a lot here won't help when he's clearly being dragged away by the ocean in his heart, drowning in his feelings. She first has to make sure that he's here again with her. ]

You're not in that moment. [ Her voice is tight, but there's an edge to it of hurry, of desperation. Frantically wanting to drag him back, though she's trying to keep herself calm in this moment, because the last thing Peter needs is for someone to freak out right alongside him. ] You're here right now. With me.

[ Ange first needs him to understand that, to truly understand that, before she can say anything else. She tries to get eye contact with him, though it may be hard until he's actually looking at her. ]