❧ i n b o x

[abheirrant]

—pposed to know when to start speaking? That wasn't a very thorough explanation on what I'm to do this, now was it? Hello? Hello? Are you listening to me? Are you even still ther— [beep]

Comments

[abheirrant]

Ah.

[She was ostracized growing up, as he was. Then she found her place, as he did. Does she consider herself to have lost it, now that she's here? Are their situations as comparable as he thought?

He sighs, silent for another moment.]

I hope that feeling stays with you -- that something is meant to be. It's a good feeling.

[writtendestiny]

It's been a while since I felt that way.

[She sighs quietly, and the silence that follows is heavy.]

I'm not sure how long I've been gone. Three years, maybe four. And I don't know if the idea of going back to the time you left counts when you keep going anywhere but home. [Her voice sticks for a moment.]

And what happens to a world when the person who is meant to be writing it isn't there?

[abheirrant]

Hm.

[Well, so much for that modicum of hope he was trying to muster up on Poison's behalf. She does bring up an interesting point, though: if and when they go home, has time passed there? Or are they returned to the exact moment they left? And even if they are, what happens when someone who is responsible for the existence of said world is gone? If they grew sick when she wanted nothing to do with it, what became of them when she outright vanished?

It wouldn't matter for him whether or not time passed. Maybe it would be easier to return to a world far divorced from who he was and what he did, but he would remain a monster all the same. He knows what he did, and he is the one who must live with that guilt.]

What outcome are you hoping for?

[writtendestiny]

That... no one missed me. That no one even realised I was gone. That everything is the same.

[But he's started her thinking about things she's mostly kept buried since her time in the Box, since the first time she died there and started to wonder how people were brought back from the dead.

She falls silent for a few moments.]

I want to be able to go home and just... get on with my life.

[abheirrant]

[She wants everything to be the same, but unless she is stripped of her memories of this place -- and of Hadriel, and of anywhere else she's been -- she cannot possibly be. Her own memories and experiences aside, there are those of others, ties of camaraderie and friendship that would be lost, potentially missed. He is reluctant to include himself in those categories, but he can think of at least one fellow who would be sorely disappointed if she vanished one day to get on with her life elsewhere.]

What about Peter?

[writtendestiny]

[Unsurprisingly, she's thought about that. She's thought about it a lot, actually, ever since...]

When we were released from Hadriel, he was supposed to come back with me. We both ended up here instead.

[And she hasn't begrudged the extra time they've had with each other, though she would have preferred it to be somewhere that they didn't have to worry about staying alive, or who might be trying to record them while they slept.]

If I could, I'd want to still be able to do that.

[abheirrant]

[He nods to himself in silent affirmation; Poison thought of that already. Of course she did. He has to admit there's something comforting about the knowledge that they came to Anchor from another world together. Perhaps it will happen again -- perhaps it could happen to him. Pratt had suggested Anchor be a new start for him, that he escape the burdens of his lineage (and reputation) with a fresh start. Could he do the same elsewhere?

He kicks himself for even considering it almost immediately, as any world he graces will be immediately tainted by his presence. Look what happened to his home, to Bear Den. Why would he wish that upon anyone else?

The silence stretches for a second too long, and Carlisle finally breaks it.]

Do you believe things would be different with someone from another world there? He would not be written by you, beholden to your rules.

[writtendestiny]

[She had been ready to go home. She'd been ready to find herself back in that big, high castle with the rain constantly lashing on the windows and the candles sputtering but never going out. She'd been ready to take Peter along with her, to introduce him to her friends, to have someone with her who existed outside the story that she would spend the rest of her life writing.]

I don't think I'd mind that. [Poison replies. She's already thought of that, too.] I wouldn't have tried to control him, anyway. That's not what you do to people you care about.

[abheirrant]

[His tone hardens.]

It's not something you should do to anyone, if you can help it.

[writtendestiny]

[Instantly, her tone slides into something entirely deadpanned. It isn't the first time she'd had to jump to defending her role in life, and doing so quickly becomes tiresome.]

Obviously. Don't start trying to lecture, Carlisle. I know my job better than you do. That isn't what it's about.

[abheirrant]

[There's silence on his end, the sound of a false start, then more silence. He hadn't meant to chastise her so much as himself, but in doing so, he clearly hit a nerve. Given when he knows of her -- of her life, her purpose -- he can understand why. Her control is her reason for being, as troubling a notion as that may have been; his is something very different. She writes existences, but him? He robs people of their free will. They would attack their friends if he commanded it; they would stand idle until they slowly withered away, unable to breath unless he released them.

And if he didn't? If he couldn't?

He finally musters up a couple of words, his tone impassive.]

Of course.

[writtendestiny]

[It's a subject that can quickly get her bristling up. A number of unpleasant conversations have been had between her and people who don't think that one person should have that kind of power over an entire world.

And perhaps they're right, but she's spend enough of her life being invalidated.

She exhales her next breath slowly through her nose.]

It's a sensitive topic. I don't mean to snap.

[abheirrant]

Of course. It's fine.

[Said in the tone of someone who is absolutely not fine and he's mad at himself again, as usual. He's silent another several seconds, and unable to find something better to say:]

I suppose I will leave you be for now, then. It was good speaking with you.