[But the snake has to bite its tail at some point, right? He can't keep running. Elysium wouldn't want him to. Ugh. Fucking Elysium.]
[It takes a loooong time for him to have any sort of reaction to this, as if expecting Siffrin to just up and leave, but eventually, he's opening the door just a crack, green eye all that's visible.]
Siffrin looks like he's about to, jerking back when Sampo calls his name, and
still looks like he wants to, eye wide and stilled. Like the other can't see him, if he's not moving.
(...
Talk, stupid.) ]
... Sampo.
[ Ffffantastic start. They tilt their head a little, so the hat comes to cover their expression, and shuffle back to standing properly in front of his door.
[A little blink. A consideration. Huh. Hmmmmm. What does he say...]
[Fuck it, he's opening the door wide.]
...Do I ever! You couldn't have come at a better time. [His speech is a little pressured, his eyebags pronounced, though he's obviously putting on a big grin like nothing at all is wrong.] Yeah! Yeah, buddy. Let's make it happen.
they're turning on their heel and starting off anyway? Half a pause mid-step to glance behind, to see if Sampo's following, very discreet, and only shuffling again once he is. They're going to Siffrin's room, apparently! The few doors down it is!
Despite the fact they "don't drink", there is very much a bottle of wine and two glasses sat on the desk. Alongside some wood projects, which Siffrin gently pushes to the side. Else in the room is a smattering of letters on the wall, all bearing the familiar script of Callisto's invitations, a photograph of themselves from March, an origami snake bearing a santa hat on the windowsill, and...
...
Perhaps a familiar stuffed bird, one that should have been gifted to Elysium but was taken in the divorce. It's been well-loved since then, bearing drool spots and the telltale crumple of someone clinging tightly to it. In addition to this, there's a stuffed baby penguin tucked beside it and a mechanical fish floating in the corner. These are the most obvious things, and despite the amount of things littered across the room...
... It still feels somehow empty. Ready to pack up and leave. Nothing in particular is enough to nail his feet down, all can be taken with or left behind.
Siffrin doesn't say another word, simply pours the glasses half full, and holds one out to Sampo.]
[He follows like an obedient child, smiling all the while, before he enters and
sees a lot of things. The photo, the penguin. The origami snake feels like something strange, but that stuffed bird? His smile falls, changing into something a little blank. Wine is offered to him. He doesn't take it.]
[Instead he looks at his wrist - which is bare - and exclaims:]
Wow! Wouldya look at the time. Just remembered I have to...do something. Hehe. I'll just be-
[And
he really is trying to backtrack out of this room because he is a WEASEL]
Siffrin's going to nurse his own, sitting resolutely on the ground. ]
You should savor wine. It's expensive, and... it tastes better when you let it sit on your tongue. I don't really like alcohol, but it's nice once in a while.
[ The taste, primarily, is actually what he dislikes... it makes his face screw up a little -- wine always does -- but it settles back into complacency. ]
Pour your own. I'm not a good host.
[ ...
So, like. Let the awkward silence reign. The little guy isn't... content, so to say, but very much does not know... how to talk. To Sampo. And still, they're here anyway. ]
[Something flickers across his face, imperceptible.]
[Of course, its awkward. Of course, he's rifling through his own little pile of masks, trying to find what fits best when someone he did, in fact, care about was gone so abruptly. It's not even grief. He can't grieve someone who isn't dead.]
[Not yet.]
[But playing the fool here seems a little too cruel, as well. So he moves to the side, takes the wine bottle, and pours himself a glass again, before plopping himself down across from them.]
I wasn't... going to give him it, because we haven't... spoken. Since we fought. But he got me something, so I felt I should.
[ Return the gesture. As futile, as small, as obligatory as it could be. The wine is dark in their glass, but they know it's supposed to be red. Like the blood that had stained their cloak, had coated the ground, had been irresistible not a few months ago. Deep and dark. Not quite as thick. ]
But it bounced back. My message. Just... like Loop's, when I...
[He sips the wine, his hand moving up to his right ear, almost absentmindedly. He has an ear cuff there, silver, with a brilliant blue sapphire and...a small red feather attached to the end of it.]
...So your friend is gone, too. Before I could apologize to them.
[And he heaves a sigh.]
I guess I'll say it. Meant to say it all this time, never did manage to. I'm sorry. For what happened that night. Wasn't in my right mind, but...
Siffrin hunches into himself, setting the glass aside. It shows too much how he trembles holding it. It isn't out of grief, but anger and frustration. Hatred. It boils up inside and then deflates, because
unlike that person, at least Sampo is apologizing. At least he means it. That's something.
(Isn't it? Still, still you--) ]
... Can't forgive you.
[ Simple as that. Loop... was not a friend, but they... were still important. This is true. A mutual gift of flowers speaks to it. ]
But I won't... hold it against you, either. Since you wouldn't have hurt them otherwise. [ A beat.
[He notices the tremor, but doesn't comment on it - only the flicker of his eyes gives away his attention. The first statement barely gets a reaction, before the line of questioning makes him crack a smile. It's a tired one.]
Sampo Koski only serves all his client's best interests. [And a beat, like he's putting down an internal script he's reading off of.] That is, to say, I would have had no reason to do so. I simply got put in a state of mind where...they were the enemy. But that's not what I ever thought before.
They nod stiffly, then rest back against the door. Closing their singular eye. ]
I really meant to kill you. And Elysium, when... he took your side.
[ Nothing to apologize for. Even if they were driven by emotions, even if it was wrong in the end, nothing they want to apologize for.
Siffrin flexes their hand idly. Quieter again. ]
But I ended up thinking... that you and him, must hate me. So that's why... you couldn't talk to me, and he wouldn't. [ ... ] Elysium was, um. Someone I gave a flower to, too.
[He's a simple businessman. Friend to all. A man of the people. But he wields giant knives, wicked ones, and throws bombs with no hesitation.]
[If he had a reason to.....]
[Well, he won't think about that. He was more hot-headed in his youth. Not anymore. He was horrified at himself, too.]
[Then again.]
[He can think of one reason that he would've been willing to kill. Siffrin mentions it, themself.]
...Me, I can understand. Elysium? Ha. I'm glad you didn't kill him. That would've been a problem for you. And all of us. [A beat.] You wouldn't know about how to dispose of his body correctly, right?
[A little smile, cold, with that, before it eases into something softer.]
But nah, pal. I never hated you. Elysium? I wouldn't speak for him. But the fact was, he encouraged me to talk to you, so...if I had to make a guess, I don't think he hated you, either.
Hahaha. Oh, it would be nice if it were as simple as throwing ashes off a mountain.
[Should he say it? He tilts his head to the side, considering. Elysium isn't here. Will he be back? If he comes back, would he be mad, about sharing something like this?]
...Did he talk to you about his. Um. Affliction, so to speak?
That's Elysium for you. He knew everyone, not everyone knew him.
[He smiles, tilting the glass this way and that, watching the liquid slide back and forth.]
Okay. Sure. But you have to promise. It stays between me and you, right? Else Sampo won't be very happy to hear it coming from someone else. Might give him a reason, so to speak. Okay?
[That's sad. That's very sad. It's all a sad, sad affair. A god in the cosmos would want them to laugh and be merry. It's hard to do that right now, O Elation.]
Alright. So! Where do I start. Where Elysium comes from, there's a weird sort of rock. A substance, maybe. Originium. It looks like a bunch of black crystals, at its pure. And this substance, it doesn't just sit pretty like most rocks. Why, it can infect people.
[He has to take a good sip from his wine, hold on. Okay, continuing.]
On the upside, being infected may give you wonderful abilities beyond your dreams. But on the downside...there's no cure. The infection can be delayed, but it can't be stopped. It's 100% terminal.
of how Elysium never changed in front of you. How he reacted to the near-bite experience you gave him. How he was always on the "sidelines", in his words, and the odd tinny noise he'd sent out. The aggravating way, to Gebura at least, he spoke and acted.
But you think of the moments where his strings had been cut, too. Where he'd resigned himself into the hands of another rather than dealing with it himself. The quiet times where he hadn't seemed so... playful, more like yourself. There was a lot in common, between you two.
Siffrin plays with his hat, resting on the ground as it is, and takes a small sip of the wine.
(Of course Elysium wouldn't have said anything to you. You would have tried to find a way to cure him anyway. Even if it was impossible, because...) ]
... The kind of flower doesn't matter. You give them to people who are... important to you, where I'm from. A land that doesn't exist anymore. [ A soft exhale. ] It's... one of the traditions I still remember, that differs from the one they practice in-- in...
[ They furrow their face, trying to remember, before exhaling again, sharply this time. ]
In Vaugarde. They give them to people they like. But... the only other person who knows that, is Gebura. I never... told Elysium. Because I thought he'd make fun of me.
[ And he would've. Siffrin knows that. But... especially after the past few months, Elysium disappearing without knowing what it meant to be given one...
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[He REALLY should be more drunk for this.]
[But the snake has to bite its tail at some point, right? He can't keep running. Elysium wouldn't want him to. Ugh. Fucking Elysium.]
[It takes a loooong time for him to have any sort of reaction to this, as if expecting Siffrin to just up and leave, but eventually, he's opening the door just a crack, green eye all that's visible.]
....Siffrin?
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Siffrin looks like he's about to, jerking back when Sampo calls his name, and
still looks like he wants to, eye wide and stilled. Like the other can't see him, if he's not moving.
(...
Talk, stupid.) ]
... Sampo.
[ Ffffantastic start. They tilt their head a little, so the hat comes to cover their expression, and shuffle back to standing properly in front of his door.
... ]
Do you drink.
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[A little blink. A consideration. Huh. Hmmmmm. What does he say...]
[Fuck it, he's opening the door wide.]
...Do I ever! You couldn't have come at a better time. [His speech is a little pressured, his eyebags pronounced, though he's obviously putting on a big grin like nothing at all is wrong.] Yeah! Yeah, buddy. Let's make it happen.
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[ But
they're turning on their heel and starting off anyway? Half a pause mid-step to glance behind, to see if Sampo's following, very discreet, and only shuffling again once he is. They're going to Siffrin's room, apparently! The few doors down it is!
Despite the fact they "don't drink", there is very much a bottle of wine and two glasses sat on the desk. Alongside some wood projects, which Siffrin gently pushes to the side. Else in the room is a smattering of letters on the wall, all bearing the familiar script of Callisto's invitations, a photograph of themselves from March, an origami snake bearing a santa hat on the windowsill, and...
...
Perhaps a familiar stuffed bird, one that should have been gifted to Elysium but was taken in the divorce. It's been well-loved since then, bearing drool spots and the telltale crumple of someone clinging tightly to it. In addition to this, there's a stuffed baby penguin tucked beside it and a mechanical fish floating in the corner. These are the most obvious things, and despite the amount of things littered across the room...
... It still feels somehow empty. Ready to pack up and leave. Nothing in particular is enough to nail his feet down, all can be taken with or left behind.
Siffrin doesn't say another word, simply pours the glasses half full, and holds one out to Sampo.]
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sees a lot of things. The photo, the penguin. The origami snake feels like something strange, but that stuffed bird? His smile falls, changing into something a little blank. Wine is offered to him. He doesn't take it.]
[Instead he looks at his wrist - which is bare - and exclaims:]
Wow! Wouldya look at the time. Just remembered I have to...do something. Hehe. I'll just be-
[And
he really is trying to backtrack out of this room because he is a WEASEL]
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Siffrin's speed isn't to be underestimated, truly, because he slips behind Sampo and shuts the door with an audible click.
The glass is held up to him. ]
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[Caught in the act! He raises his hands apologetically.]
Buuuuut then again! I guess I can spare a few for a, um, colleague.
[He plucks the wine glass from his hands.]
Thanks, pal.
[He's just going to down it in one go.]
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Siffrin's going to nurse his own, sitting resolutely on the ground. ]
You should savor wine. It's expensive, and... it tastes better when you let it sit on your tongue. I don't really like alcohol, but it's nice once in a while.
[ The taste, primarily, is actually what he dislikes... it makes his face screw up a little -- wine always does -- but it settles back into complacency. ]
Pour your own. I'm not a good host.
[ ...
So, like. Let the awkward silence reign. The little guy isn't... content, so to say, but very much does not know... how to talk. To Sampo. And still, they're here anyway. ]
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[Something flickers across his face, imperceptible.]
[Of course, its awkward. Of course, he's rifling through his own little pile of masks, trying to find what fits best when someone he did, in fact, care about was gone so abruptly. It's not even grief. He can't grieve someone who isn't dead.]
[Not yet.]
[But playing the fool here seems a little too cruel, as well. So he moves to the side, takes the wine bottle, and pours himself a glass again, before plopping himself down across from them.]
[He swirls the liquid in his glass, thoughtful.]
You heard, right? That he's gone.
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[ Soft. Almost inaudible. ]
I wasn't... going to give him it, because we haven't... spoken. Since we fought. But he got me something, so I felt I should.
[ Return the gesture. As futile, as small, as obligatory as it could be. The wine is dark in their glass, but they know it's supposed to be red. Like the blood that had stained their cloak, had coated the ground, had been irresistible not a few months ago. Deep and dark. Not quite as thick. ]
But it bounced back. My message. Just... like Loop's, when I...
[ ... ]
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...So your friend is gone, too. Before I could apologize to them.
[And he heaves a sigh.]
I guess I'll say it. Meant to say it all this time, never did manage to. I'm sorry. For what happened that night. Wasn't in my right mind, but...
[Still.]
[He managed to do an awful, awful thing.]
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You know he wasn't. But still, you...)
Siffrin hunches into himself, setting the glass aside. It shows too much how he trembles holding it. It isn't out of grief, but anger and frustration. Hatred. It boils up inside and then deflates, because
unlike that person, at least Sampo is apologizing. At least he means it. That's something.
(Isn't it? Still, still you--) ]
... Can't forgive you.
[ Simple as that. Loop... was not a friend, but they... were still important. This is true. A mutual gift of flowers speaks to it. ]
But I won't... hold it against you, either. Since you wouldn't have hurt them otherwise. [ A beat.
Then, more guarded: ] Right?
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[He notices the tremor, but doesn't comment on it - only the flicker of his eyes gives away his attention. The first statement barely gets a reaction, before the line of questioning makes him crack a smile. It's a tired one.]
Sampo Koski only serves all his client's best interests. [And a beat, like he's putting down an internal script he's reading off of.] That is, to say, I would have had no reason to do so. I simply got put in a state of mind where...they were the enemy. But that's not what I ever thought before.
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...
Well, that's just life. Isn't it, Siffrin?)
They nod stiffly, then rest back against the door. Closing their singular eye. ]
I really meant to kill you. And Elysium, when... he took your side.
[ Nothing to apologize for. Even if they were driven by emotions, even if it was wrong in the end, nothing they want to apologize for.
Siffrin flexes their hand idly. Quieter again. ]
But I ended up thinking... that you and him, must hate me. So that's why... you couldn't talk to me, and he wouldn't. [ ... ] Elysium was, um. Someone I gave a flower to, too.
[ Which apparently means something. ]
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[If he had a reason to.....]
[Well, he won't think about that. He was more hot-headed in his youth. Not anymore. He was horrified at himself, too.]
[Then again.]
[He can think of one reason that he would've been willing to kill. Siffrin mentions it, themself.]
...Me, I can understand. Elysium? Ha. I'm glad you didn't kill him. That would've been a problem for you. And all of us. [A beat.] You wouldn't know about how to dispose of his body correctly, right?
[A little smile, cold, with that, before it eases into something softer.]
But nah, pal. I never hated you. Elysium? I wouldn't speak for him. But the fact was, he encouraged me to talk to you, so...if I had to make a guess, I don't think he hated you, either.
[...]
What was the flower?
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What do you mean, dispose of his body correctly? Like throwing ashes off a mountain?
[ (Funeral rites...?) ]
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[Should he say it? He tilts his head to the side, considering. Elysium isn't here. Will he be back? If he comes back, would he be mad, about sharing something like this?]
...Did he talk to you about his. Um. Affliction, so to speak?
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[ Maybe they should have more. But there were things Elysium didn't ask after, and things Siffrin never broached. He plays with his cloak. ]
We weren't close.
[ Which is why it hurt so much to be betrayed, right? Stupid. ]
I'll trade secrets. What flower it was, for that.
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[He smiles, tilting the glass this way and that, watching the liquid slide back and forth.]
Okay. Sure. But you have to promise. It stays between me and you, right? Else Sampo won't be very happy to hear it coming from someone else. Might give him a reason, so to speak. Okay?
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[ So. Secret safe. Siffrin fiddles with their cloak again, before lifting their hand to their head and setting the hat aside.
Attention is his. Undivided, as it were, for the first time... really looking at him. ]
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[That's sad. That's very sad. It's all a sad, sad affair. A god in the cosmos would want them to laugh and be merry. It's hard to do that right now, O Elation.]
Alright. So! Where do I start. Where Elysium comes from, there's a weird sort of rock. A substance, maybe. Originium. It looks like a bunch of black crystals, at its pure. And this substance, it doesn't just sit pretty like most rocks. Why, it can infect people.
[He has to take a good sip from his wine, hold on. Okay, continuing.]
On the upside, being infected may give you wonderful abilities beyond your dreams. But on the downside...there's no cure. The infection can be delayed, but it can't be stopped. It's 100% terminal.
And our...dear, dear little bird. He's infected.
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of how Elysium never changed in front of you. How he reacted to the near-bite experience you gave him. How he was always on the "sidelines", in his words, and the odd tinny noise he'd sent out. The aggravating way, to Gebura at least, he spoke and acted.
But you think of the moments where his strings had been cut, too. Where he'd resigned himself into the hands of another rather than dealing with it himself. The quiet times where he hadn't seemed so... playful, more like yourself. There was a lot in common, between you two.
...
Your head hurts.) ]
You can't pick them off?
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[He's sinking his face into his hand for a moment, before he flips his bangs back, like he's trying so so very hard to keep his face in place.]
But that's not all. You see, Originium is infectious, deeply so, in the right circumstances. Death is one such circumstance.
[A quieter voice.]
He would be like a bomb.
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...
(You understand.)
Siffrin plays with his hat, resting on the ground as it is, and takes a small sip of the wine.
(Of course Elysium wouldn't have said anything to you. You would have tried to find a way to cure him anyway. Even if it was impossible, because...) ]
... The kind of flower doesn't matter. You give them to people who are... important to you, where I'm from. A land that doesn't exist anymore. [ A soft exhale. ] It's... one of the traditions I still remember, that differs from the one they practice in-- in...
[ They furrow their face, trying to remember, before exhaling again, sharply this time. ]
In Vaugarde. They give them to people they like. But... the only other person who knows that, is Gebura. I never... told Elysium. Because I thought he'd make fun of me.
[ And he would've. Siffrin knows that. But... especially after the past few months, Elysium disappearing without knowing what it meant to be given one...
...
(Ugh.) ]
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[Yes, Elysium would've made fun of him. He was a bastard. A horrible little bird. A thorn in one's side.]
[A flower to mean something so special...yeah, even if he had made fun of it, he would've treasured it, no matter what.]
[And now he's gone.]
That sounds like a lovely gesture, Siffrin. I'm sure he appreciated it.
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