poly_chromatic | Entry 574; Day 1301

[Video Post]
[Blink--! ... ... ... And...well, nothing, really. There is a view of a hand as the device is quietly and gently set down on a stone bench. There is a view of a dimly lit space--almost funereal in its style and light. It feels almost like a vault, a crype, a mausoleum. It is, for those who know it, the Hall of the Missing. And the hand, for those who know it as well, belongs to Cain. He can be seen now at the edge of the device's lens, sitting just as quietly on that bench, looking at a portrait on the wall (two paintings, actually, but one has the better part of his attention at the moment). He looks disheveled and tired; the portrait can't be seen but perhaps...]

I swore that I would keep you for myself, no matter how much heaven might want you.

[A heavy pause.]

And you said you'd follow me to hell, but you...

[And he says no more, but covers his face with his hands. He isn't crying (Riff stopped him from crying a long time ago and he isn't about to start again).

The device records all of this with an impartial eye.

He stays very still for a very long time...then draws himself up to rest his chin in his hands and look at the portrait again...then back to sitting up and staring at the portrait...

And this continues for some time.

After a while, he notices the device beside him. He doesn't even look at it, he only puts his hand over it, and blocks the lense and thereby ends the feed, which disappears into the dark again in a--

--blink!]
[//video post ends]

[ooc: So Riff has departed from the City again :c Cain just found out. And Cain is not at his sparkly best for the time being. This is an accidental post, of course, because he wouldn't admit to these things openly, but know that he probably won't be too friendly when he learns that this has been seen. For the record: Riff was ailing when he departed--this separation is much more complicated, therefore, than previous ones. As ever: :c]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

None of us can help what the deities do. And no matter what happens here, you'll see him again someday. In the end, he'll be there with you.

[He's up from his seat and stalking towards the portrait, angry now.]

I don't want to see him someday, he's supposed to be here with me now.

[He's always a sight to behold when he's angry, and not always in a positive way. And there's no way of knowing if trying to talk him down will help any, or if it'll only make things worse.]

There's no helping it, Cain...

[He leans against the wall next to the portrait.]

I know, but...

But that doesn't make it any better. I know.

He's mine, Rosella. Why won't the City let me keep him?

Because it makes you miserable not to have him, and that's just what they want.

[A very long pause...]

Rosella, do stop being sensible about this.

[He's trying to be emo, okay, and you're being logical, and this isn't helping him to emo.]

[Oh. Well. Yes, she knows that feeling all too well, doesn't she. The remark stings a little, but not personally; it's more a wake-up call than anything else.]

Oh...

[She draws back a little, like she's unconsciously trying to make herself less obtrusive, and nods before adding under her breath:]

It really isn't fair at all.

[He crouches on the floor near the portrait. Dignity? What's that?]

No. It isn't fair at all.

Entry 574; Day 1301

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