(It's actually better this way, although Sophie feels... Wholly unprepared to give the support Sciel might need without a little help. To each, their own delights and dismays of being who they are, and Sophie is so dependent on her telepathy to navigate the world that she feels a little naked herself. She pays attention — for exploitation, mostly, and that's never been her goal ever since she found herself in Etraya. This is confusing.
Sciel is being vulnerable with words, she finds, and she's being vulnerable by respecting it. Turns out, it's not just words that are said that allow one to be seen. She bullshits with honesty all the time. This is different.)
I — I didn't know, I'm sorry to hear. I don't know much about you, do I, Sciel? ... Was it the gommage?
[It’s upsetting to think about, sure, but Sciel feels remarkably calm despite it; compared to actually being in the fog, or the misery of that night that had sent her to Sophie’s doorstep, this is so little, especially with a friend.
And it’s worth it, to give Sophie a conversation like this. Something real, separated from the web of her own mind.]
We haven’t had a lot of time to get to know each other, but this is part of it, isn’t it? [That’s fine. Everyone finds out eventually.] But no. It was a sailing accident. I don’t think I would have survived the year after without Sophie, and Gustave.
(How fucking shitty is that? Not only do they die year by year, counting the days they might have to breathe, planning for shorter and shorter futures, and then something like this happens.
She can't blame Sciel for saying what she does. How devastating would that even be? A short life, cut shorter.)
Cripes, that fucking sucks, Sciel... It makes sense, though, and then they... Broke up, and you were displaced?
[She nods, her expression growing a little more sober.]
Yes. Obviously their break-up had nothing to do with me, but at the time I thought it was a mistake. I felt angry with them, in little ways.
[Still does, occasionally, at very odd times. What wouldn’t she do, what wouldn’t she find a way to live with, just to have Pierre back? But for her part, at least, she can say that the loss made her more willing to embrace her worst thoughts for what they are.]
I could have drifted from Gustave entirely, then, but I’m glad I didn’t. There will always be space for him in my life, no matter what happens. But right now, we don’t know what shape our lives will take, and how to fit them together.
You know, that's actually... I guess, for lack of a better word, kinda usual? It's easier to digest and go through things if we hold onto a different emotion.
(So, let's not look at the loneliness, grief and fear, anger is easier. Actionable, even.)
Do you think he blames you for leaving? He doesn't seem the type. And I suppose, you don't know what shape your life is going to take because you have a life to have now, right? You're not going to just, poof? Isn't that a lot to consider, regardless of each other? From what I heard, you guys were super ready to die, what was it again? 'When one falls, we continue'? I don't think there is an answer other than just, you know, continuing.
[Anger felt good, for a while. Necessary, even. But it can’t linger forever, not when it starts to burn away good things, too.]
I don’t think he blames us at all for continuing. We had to. But we definitely made a lot of choices that he wouldn’t have allowed, and maybe some that we wouldn’t have, either, if we weren’t reeling from losing him.
... Do you need to? Answer, I mean. Look, I'm sorry, I'm trying, but to me? Looking back never did any good. You were grieving, tasked with an impossible mission, fucked over in every way, and it's impossible to answer for everything in a way that makes sense to anyone else but you. It's done, isn't it? Isn't it... Better to just think forward?
We will have to, for some things. But some of those choices are a little too recent, for that. I’m fine with being taken to task for them. [A sudden twist of the corner of her mouth.] Definitely not fun, though.
[It will be hard. She’s certain of that. She’s also certain it’s worth enduring.]
In the fog, I had a vision of Gustave. I’m trying to decide if it was created to press on my bruises, or if it was my creation –– my fears about what he thinks of me.
(As much as she wishes she doesn't. She's pretty sure she can summon enough questions for Sciel not to turn the questioning around, so.)
Professional opinion, as someone who could make that fog illusion myself? It doesn't matter. If you're wondering if those were your fears, then there's a part of you that fears it, and if you didn't before, then you might now. The important thing to remember is that the brain is biased, Sciel.
[Sciel could, being quite adept at avoiding any conversation she doesn’t care to have, but she lets it go. There will be time for that, when Sophie’s ready.]
That’s true. But for me, it’s different if it came from my own mind, or something else. If it is a reflection of my deepest thoughts… it’s a rather depressing portrait of both of us.
I have my theories about what the fog was doing. I don't want to bore you with all the details, but what I can tell you is that it's not a good idea to take anything it showed you as an absolute truth, regardless of the source. What did he say?
(It's just things that she learned so she could achieve the same results — that she was taught, most precisely.)
I know it’s not the truth, it just feels wrong that it happened at all.
[It feels cruel to say what, like it might take on a life of its own in Gustave’s character, even with the note that he never would say something like that to her. It makes her feel uncharacteristically flustered for a moment, but she led the conversation here, so:]
He said that I’m not loyal. To the Expedition, or to Pierre.
(It makes no sense to Sophie. Up to everything that Sciel's told her, loyalty has been a theme. To her feelings for Pierre and her difficulty in moving forward. To Sophie. To Gustave.
I was split off from the Expedition early, in a fight we couldn’t win. I ran. We met back up later, but that’s where that comes from. But to Pierre…
[She draws a breath in. How to put this?]
Gustave never moved on from Sophie. Not for even a heartbeat. He just buried himself in work, and the future of Lumière. And for me, the only man I want to be with is my husband, but I can’t just be alone, either.
[It’s strange, being widowed. There’s no new memories to make. She’d had to let the potential of more of him go. She’d had to accept that she’d absorbed every bit of him she could, and that she would lose parts and forget things, but they will still be with her, like lyrics to a song she hadn’t heard in a decade, ready to burst forth when the music starts to play. What do you do? Never listen to music again?
She looks at Sophie, bottom lip pushed up for an instant.]
I think it’s fine for me to find comfort in someone else. I know Gustave wants me to be happy, too, he really does want the best for me. But I’m sleeping with someone he has reasons to dislike, and it makes conversation between us very complicated. I haven’t made the best choices in that.
(When Sciel clarified that she wanted to talk, Sophie hesitated. She made it clear, or so she hopes, that this is not exactly where she shines, although that's not wholly true. Being genuinely helpful, without hidden plans or agendas, and without the aid of streams of thought, is the issue. She's not trying to sway Sciel one way or another, gather, or use. There's no cheating of knowing exactly what to say and how to say it, and she's lost on how to help. Is talking truly enough?
She assumed, as the conversation unfolded, that she wanted to understand the fog. Sophie knows how tos — same effects, same feelings, a deeper understanding of the inner workings of the mind, and she thought that perhaps this had been the reason why Sciel asked her to talk. It doesn't seem to be it.
She can just listen, but is listening truly enough? She's so behind on this personhood thing, and when she's stunned like this is when she realizes it most.)
... Okay. So, let me put all the facts together, paint a picture of the whole thing. You have a late husband, who was friends with Gustave, who is in love with a woman he had a falling out with because the whole existing-in-your-world is depressing. Gustave died, you are sleeping with someone he doesn't trust, which is making you think about how Gustave sees Sophie — and you're fighting? Or, well, you're fighting about it?
... Do you have reasons to trust the person you're fucking?
[This is raw, but it's a bit of a gamble, too; she can see Sophie struggling a little to keep up even before she recaps it all, but this is human, this is human conversation. There is no dumping it all into someone's mind, fully-formed, not when it means losing out on getting to know a person.]
Right. And more than that, it's making me think about how much our lives have changed, often outside of our control. He's always had big dreams for the future, and he wants the best for others, but it doesn't always work out that way. And I've made that harder, in some ways.
(Oh, shit, at least she got the recap right. She's gonna discreetly pat herself on the shoulder for that. It wasn't horrible.)
And you two aren't able to talk it out, I'm assuming, and he's not... Well, I tried to talk to him, and he told me to wait for another time, so I guess he's not a walk in the park.
(Sciel seems fine with the act of conversation, but then again, Sophie is not Gustave. She's not the object of the issue, is she? Sophie knows that changes things.)
There's a 'but' in there right after, isn't there? Why are the reasons Gustave doesn't trust him not yours as well?
Most of the time, he is. There's so many reasons people adore him, myself especially. But Gustave is very... [She winces, but she smiles, too, a little wryly.] Opinionated. When he's upset he can get a little mean, and he does this little thing where he shrugs and says "okay" to whatever point you've made, like you're being unreasonable or stupid, and then he doubles down on you.
[She needs a sip of wine. She takes one.]
Anyway. Verso holds his cards very, very close to his chest. Gustave doesn't like that, and I think from where he's standing, it's a fair judgement. It's just not where I've stood.
Doesn't sound really that bad. At least he is talking? Double down on him. If 'a little mean' is really all, then, you should be able to give it back? It's better than radio silence.
(If it doesn't get worse. She should be able to handle a little mean, give a little mean back. In most cases, Sophie hardly gets offended — her stance tends to be very clear. 'You offend me, I offend you, then if both are offended, no one is', which is a clearly sane and healthy approach to deal with conflict, by someone who is definitely in control of her regulation. Not a doubt.)
... No way, it's Verso? I met him, kinda, a while back. Pretty cute, nice— not the point. Look. There are things you won't understand, and there are things he won't understand. What's the likelihood he just accepts your decision as your own to make, considering the differences in, you know, how things are dealt?
It's not. It's just harder to hear from someone you love, and I don't want to be mean to him. I've hurt his feelings enough without it.
[Nothing feels worse than adding to conflict. She doesn't even bring anger to the battlefield; bringing it down on her friends feels impossible.]
And yes, it's Verso. [Imagine this in another time, where she could grin in a way that scrunches up her nose, delighting in yes, he's cute, and kind, and funny, and he has such a nice body, and she's liked running her hands all over it. Girl talk. Not here, though. Here it's just a little wistful. Everything is complicated.] I think we could agree to disagree, but... I don't know. Have you ever had to do that, with a friend?
Like you're not hurting? Either you get it out, or you fake it till you make it until it's solved, I don't really see any other way.
(Sometimes, this works. Put it all in the open, let it burn and bleed — or alternatively, let it go. Mask it so you deal with another day. She has no horse in this race, 'opinionated', 'mean', and 'bad choices' make a Stepford, so she can't really say anything more peaceful. Blood or leave.
The smile Sciel doesn't show, Sophie does, her hand bringing the wine to her mouth for a sip before Sciel tossed that question at her.
She can't laugh with a mouthful of wine, so instead, it's a small snort that leaves her, dainty fingers hiding her face from the embarrassment of the sound.)
Girl, first of all, what friends? Second of all, not about anything that big, anyway. My sisters and I disagreed constantly, but I don't think my usual way of life really applies here.
I’ll be fine. And we’ll be fine, too, in time, it just… needs to run its course.
[This is venting, but it’s also just sharing. She’d promised Sophie an explanation for what was going on, and this is the foundation of it, the set-up of her friendship with Gustave before it gets into the ugly things that would drive him to send his child away for the evening.
She gives Sophie a bit of an apologetic look. Sorry, love.]
Maybe not, but there’s something about needing to hide a part of your life from someone that doesn’t sit right. I don’t think either wants to be hidden, or tiptoed around.
[Sciel looks into her wine glass for a beat, exasperated at the mere thought of Verso and Gustave in the same room again, but her tone stays on the lighter side.]
A few times. I don’t know what about, exactly, but it got them to a stalemate at best, and then Verso disappeared.
(It means there's wiggle room. She sees a little hope in there, if it didn't end up in a full disaster.
There are also things she knows. Maelle told her Gustave's fear of replacement, but Sophie isn't about to give out that information, but she sees some other reasons why there might be feelings towards Verso that aren't all related to his actions or choices.)
... Yeah. That... Does happen, doesn't it? Kind of makes you a little hesitant on moving forward. We can just get taken away.
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Sciel is being vulnerable with words, she finds, and she's being vulnerable by respecting it. Turns out, it's not just words that are said that allow one to be seen. She bullshits with honesty all the time. This is different.)
I — I didn't know, I'm sorry to hear. I don't know much about you, do I, Sciel? ... Was it the gommage?
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And it’s worth it, to give Sophie a conversation like this. Something real, separated from the web of her own mind.]
We haven’t had a lot of time to get to know each other, but this is part of it, isn’t it? [That’s fine. Everyone finds out eventually.] But no. It was a sailing accident. I don’t think I would have survived the year after without Sophie, and Gustave.
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She can't blame Sciel for saying what she does. How devastating would that even be? A short life, cut shorter.)
Cripes, that fucking sucks, Sciel... It makes sense, though, and then they... Broke up, and you were displaced?
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Yes. Obviously their break-up had nothing to do with me, but at the time I thought it was a mistake. I felt angry with them, in little ways.
[Still does, occasionally, at very odd times. What wouldn’t she do, what wouldn’t she find a way to live with, just to have Pierre back? But for her part, at least, she can say that the loss made her more willing to embrace her worst thoughts for what they are.]
I could have drifted from Gustave entirely, then, but I’m glad I didn’t. There will always be space for him in my life, no matter what happens. But right now, we don’t know what shape our lives will take, and how to fit them together.
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(So, let's not look at the loneliness, grief and fear, anger is easier. Actionable, even.)
Do you think he blames you for leaving? He doesn't seem the type. And I suppose, you don't know what shape your life is going to take because you have a life to have now, right? You're not going to just, poof? Isn't that a lot to consider, regardless of each other? From what I heard, you guys were super ready to die, what was it again? 'When one falls, we continue'? I don't think there is an answer other than just, you know, continuing.
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I don’t think he blames us at all for continuing. We had to. But we definitely made a lot of choices that he wouldn’t have allowed, and maybe some that we wouldn’t have, either, if we weren’t reeling from losing him.
[She looks at her wine glass and sighs, softly.]
It’s difficult to answer for choices I’ve made.
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(She's asking so genuinely.)
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[It will be hard. She’s certain of that. She’s also certain it’s worth enduring.]
In the fog, I had a vision of Gustave. I’m trying to decide if it was created to press on my bruises, or if it was my creation –– my fears about what he thinks of me.
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(As much as she wishes she doesn't. She's pretty sure she can summon enough questions for Sciel not to turn the questioning around, so.)
Professional opinion, as someone who could make that fog illusion myself? It doesn't matter. If you're wondering if those were your fears, then there's a part of you that fears it, and if you didn't before, then you might now. The important thing to remember is that the brain is biased, Sciel.
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That’s true. But for me, it’s different if it came from my own mind, or something else. If it is a reflection of my deepest thoughts… it’s a rather depressing portrait of both of us.
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(It's just things that she learned so she could achieve the same results — that she was taught, most precisely.)
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[It feels cruel to say what, like it might take on a life of its own in Gustave’s character, even with the note that he never would say something like that to her. It makes her feel uncharacteristically flustered for a moment, but she led the conversation here, so:]
He said that I’m not loyal. To the Expedition, or to Pierre.
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(It makes no sense to Sophie. Up to everything that Sciel's told her, loyalty has been a theme. To her feelings for Pierre and her difficulty in moving forward. To Sophie. To Gustave.
Choices.)
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[She draws a breath in. How to put this?]
Gustave never moved on from Sophie. Not for even a heartbeat. He just buried himself in work, and the future of Lumière. And for me, the only man I want to be with is my husband, but I can’t just be alone, either.
[It’s strange, being widowed. There’s no new memories to make. She’d had to let the potential of more of him go. She’d had to accept that she’d absorbed every bit of him she could, and that she would lose parts and forget things, but they will still be with her, like lyrics to a song she hadn’t heard in a decade, ready to burst forth when the music starts to play. What do you do? Never listen to music again?
She looks at Sophie, bottom lip pushed up for an instant.]
I think it’s fine for me to find comfort in someone else. I know Gustave wants me to be happy, too, he really does want the best for me. But I’m sleeping with someone he has reasons to dislike, and it makes conversation between us very complicated. I haven’t made the best choices in that.
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She assumed, as the conversation unfolded, that she wanted to understand the fog. Sophie knows how tos — same effects, same feelings, a deeper understanding of the inner workings of the mind, and she thought that perhaps this had been the reason why Sciel asked her to talk. It doesn't seem to be it.
She can just listen, but is listening truly enough? She's so behind on this personhood thing, and when she's stunned like this is when she realizes it most.)
... Okay. So, let me put all the facts together, paint a picture of the whole thing. You have a late husband, who was friends with Gustave, who is in love with a woman he had a falling out with because the whole existing-in-your-world is depressing. Gustave died, you are sleeping with someone he doesn't trust, which is making you think about how Gustave sees Sophie — and you're fighting? Or, well, you're fighting about it?
... Do you have reasons to trust the person you're fucking?
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Right. And more than that, it's making me think about how much our lives have changed, often outside of our control. He's always had big dreams for the future, and he wants the best for others, but it doesn't always work out that way. And I've made that harder, in some ways.
[As for Verso...]
But yes, I do trust him. He has a good heart.
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And you two aren't able to talk it out, I'm assuming, and he's not... Well, I tried to talk to him, and he told me to wait for another time, so I guess he's not a walk in the park.
(Sciel seems fine with the act of conversation, but then again, Sophie is not Gustave. She's not the object of the issue, is she? Sophie knows that changes things.)
There's a 'but' in there right after, isn't there? Why are the reasons Gustave doesn't trust him not yours as well?
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[She needs a sip of wine. She takes one.]
Anyway. Verso holds his cards very, very close to his chest. Gustave doesn't like that, and I think from where he's standing, it's a fair judgement. It's just not where I've stood.
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(If it doesn't get worse. She should be able to handle a little mean, give a little mean back. In most cases, Sophie hardly gets offended — her stance tends to be very clear. 'You offend me, I offend you, then if both are offended, no one is', which is a clearly sane and healthy approach to deal with conflict, by someone who is definitely in control of her regulation. Not a doubt.)
... No way, it's Verso? I met him, kinda, a while back. Pretty cute, nice— not the point. Look. There are things you won't understand, and there are things he won't understand. What's the likelihood he just accepts your decision as your own to make, considering the differences in, you know, how things are dealt?
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[Nothing feels worse than adding to conflict. She doesn't even bring anger to the battlefield; bringing it down on her friends feels impossible.]
And yes, it's Verso. [Imagine this in another time, where she could grin in a way that scrunches up her nose, delighting in yes, he's cute, and kind, and funny, and he has such a nice body, and she's liked running her hands all over it. Girl talk. Not here, though. Here it's just a little wistful. Everything is complicated.] I think we could agree to disagree, but... I don't know. Have you ever had to do that, with a friend?
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(Sometimes, this works. Put it all in the open, let it burn and bleed — or alternatively, let it go. Mask it so you deal with another day. She has no horse in this race, 'opinionated', 'mean', and 'bad choices' make a Stepford, so she can't really say anything more peaceful. Blood or leave.
The smile Sciel doesn't show, Sophie does, her hand bringing the wine to her mouth for a sip before Sciel tossed that question at her.
She can't laugh with a mouthful of wine, so instead, it's a small snort that leaves her, dainty fingers hiding her face from the embarrassment of the sound.)
Girl, first of all, what friends? Second of all, not about anything that big, anyway. My sisters and I disagreed constantly, but I don't think my usual way of life really applies here.
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I’ll be fine. And we’ll be fine, too, in time, it just… needs to run its course.
[This is venting, but it’s also just sharing. She’d promised Sophie an explanation for what was going on, and this is the foundation of it, the set-up of her friendship with Gustave before it gets into the ugly things that would drive him to send his child away for the evening.
She gives Sophie a bit of an apologetic look. Sorry, love.]
Maybe not, but there’s something about needing to hide a part of your life from someone that doesn’t sit right. I don’t think either wants to be hidden, or tiptoed around.
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(She doesn't doubt it, but hopefully the course it runs is a helpful one. Whether they decide not to touch it, whether they talk, hopefully something.
But she appreciates the trust, if anything. Isn't sure if she deserves it, if she's the right vessel for it, but she sees it. Takes it.
Thanks her for it.)
Have they tried talking to each other?
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A few times. I don’t know what about, exactly, but it got them to a stalemate at best, and then Verso disappeared.
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(It means there's wiggle room. She sees a little hope in there, if it didn't end up in a full disaster.
There are also things she knows. Maelle told her Gustave's fear of replacement, but Sophie isn't about to give out that information, but she sees some other reasons why there might be feelings towards Verso that aren't all related to his actions or choices.)
... Yeah. That... Does happen, doesn't it? Kind of makes you a little hesitant on moving forward. We can just get taken away.
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