I know. Maelle told me about the mass Gommage. What I'm trying to say is... Well, obviously, not remotely the same, but we've suffered countless genocides. Sometimes, something happens, we're brought back. Hell, I was brought back four times minimum, Sciel. I just... I don't know. With how insane your world is, I just feel like something could happen.
(She doesn't know. She just thinks if something can wipe out all of them, it might as well bring them back? She wouldn't just throw away that theory so fast. But, well, this is what she knows from what she experienced.
Girl attempting to provide comfort has no idea what she is talking about.)
Changed how? If it comforts you, I don't feel anything weird...
(She's gesturing to Sciel's head like a weirdo, to explain her brain feels fine.)
And how do you even plan to do that? Processing, I mean. It seems like you all are processing together?
[So she does know. Sciel is quiet for a beat, processing how an outsider sees the end of their existence in contrast with death never being a sure end, and she thinks: her heart couldn't take it. If there is no end, no happily ever after, together in the abyss, then it's a cycle more terrible than she ever imagined.
And then:]
You didn't know me before I Gommaged. What if something was lost in translation, from there to life again? Death must have changed you, too, didn't it? You don't just wake up the same person after an experience like that.
[Like Noco. Noco will never be the same.]
And there's no planning, really. It just happens, day by day.
(That's the thing, though. There's a lot of differences between Sophie's personal experiences and literally anyone else's. That's her struggle — that's why this is so hard for her, cast outside from where she feels most comfortable.)
You're right, I didn't. That may as well be a possibility, you know? But that said, from my point of view with the little I've been there, no one has willingly messed with your mind? We usually can tell.
(Fractures. Holes. They are as tangible as anything else.)
... I... Well, look, I'm — different? That's what having a brain that connects and regulates itself with the other four does. So, yeah, I came back the same. Forgiving and hating the same people, doing the same behavior, talking and thinking the same way. Most people don't, though? I've seen tons of people come back. It's always insane, so you do have a point.
(To that last sentence, she'll clink their glasses before she downs the rest of her drink. She feels like maybe she will need it.)
Maybe not altered my mind, but there could be something missing. There could be something I won't realize for a long time. And with my friends here, I do hope that isn't the case, because they could tell, but who knows? Did the other four die, too? If they didn't, doesn't that set you apart from them?
[She can't pretend to know how all that works, but it's something.]
I don't think I was any different. I think I've been behaving a little irresponsibly here, given all the new opportunities, but... I still feel like me in all the ways that matter.
You seem so self-aware that if you felt something were off, you would know it, so you also have that going on for you.
(She thinks, at least. And the same way Sophie doesn't understand, she can't expect Sciel to understand either. Well, they did come to talk, right? At least this is something she wants to talk about, with all the fog trauma.)
Oh, no. I mean, one other did a little after. And, uh, it's complicated. Yes, because they were three instead of five, so there is an understanding of which Cuckoo I am, but also, not really? I knew and felt all they feel, including when I was not there, and vice-versa. When I first got here, not only did I have to explain which one I was to everyone, but I was, you know, a Cuckoo. They know me but don't at the same time, because that's not really what sets us apart. It's really difficult to explain, I'm sorry.
(She's trying her hardest, at least.)
Then let's reframe as you're... Discovering what being alive without a timer feels like.
I guess time will tell. Or this place, apparently, since it seems to love to put us in fucked up situations to begin with.
(She has to chew on that for a second. 'Liberating' is not the best word, but she doesn't know what word would be best either.)
I suppose you want me to be honest, so.
('Friends don't lie to friends' being the first thing Kamala told her that she listened to. She'd love to say it's great, that being her own person unthetered to them is awesome, all this freedom, all these choices, but it's... Hard, considering the journey she decided to take.
She takes a sip, watching the glass for a second before sighing as loudly as she can for some comfort.)
I guess I don't know how I feel. We have a certain really shitty reputation and we happen to be clones of one of the most influential women of our time, not to mention the hivemind aspect of it all. It, uh, feels incomplete. You can't really understand who I am and what I'm trying to accomplish without knowing me as One-In-Five, you know?
(She thinks she's done for a second as her brain processes it for a little while, and she realizes she's not. Another breath,)
... That said...? It's not... Bad. I'm just not used to all this, so I'm constantly recalibrating, but I... Like who I am, here? Or, well, I'm trying to be someone I can like?
[She does want honesty. And it makes sense to her, even without knowing the intricacies of Sophie’s world, that all the complicated and sometimes oppressive parts of being a One-in-Five would still be the building blocks of her life, her identity –– her story, whether it’s been glorious or tragic.
It makes her think of Verso, actually. She can’t say for certain what makes his family a force of nature, but she knows she will never have a full picture of him as long as it remains a mystery to her. It’s no different with Sophie, even if it’s not at all the same, either.]
It’s complicated. A rare experience, with very few other who could understand what you’re going through. But that makes it even more admirable to me that you’re trying, Sophie. You’re forging your own path in the unknown.
[She takes a sip of her wine, sets the glass down, and reaches over to put a hand on her friend’s shoulder for a brief squeeze. She smiles, knowing this question is one that most people fondly hate:]
So what have you learned to like about yourself so far?
I... Yeah. It's... Never done before, not really. Esme killed me and left, but she also did industrial quantities of drugs and then got killed by this one dude she was fucking or whatever. The other three also tried? Together, but our conclusion is that individuality is lame. No one has been away for this long.
(That's the thing, though. Sciel doesn't quite know what she is trying, does she? It gets her feeling like an impostor, sometimes. To be fighting so hard against her programming, and feeling like she fooled everyone to believe she's not... Well. Who she is trying not to be. That's what makes her pensive, and it makes another sigh release from her lungs before she goggles her eyes with the question Sciel posed.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
(She doesn't know. She just thinks if something can wipe out all of them, it might as well bring them back? She wouldn't just throw away that theory so fast. But, well, this is what she knows from what she experienced.
Girl attempting to provide comfort has no idea what she is talking about.)
Changed how? If it comforts you, I don't feel anything weird...
(She's gesturing to Sciel's head like a weirdo, to explain her brain feels fine.)
And how do you even plan to do that? Processing, I mean. It seems like you all are processing together?
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And then:]
You didn't know me before I Gommaged. What if something was lost in translation, from there to life again? Death must have changed you, too, didn't it? You don't just wake up the same person after an experience like that.
[Like Noco. Noco will never be the same.]
And there's no planning, really. It just happens, day by day.
no subject
You're right, I didn't. That may as well be a possibility, you know? But that said, from my point of view with the little I've been there, no one has willingly messed with your mind? We usually can tell.
(Fractures. Holes. They are as tangible as anything else.)
... I... Well, look, I'm — different? That's what having a brain that connects and regulates itself with the other four does. So, yeah, I came back the same. Forgiving and hating the same people, doing the same behavior, talking and thinking the same way. Most people don't, though? I've seen tons of people come back. It's always insane, so you do have a point.
(To that last sentence, she'll clink their glasses before she downs the rest of her drink. She feels like maybe she will need it.)
How were you? Before you Gommaged.
no subject
[She can't pretend to know how all that works, but it's something.]
I don't think I was any different. I think I've been behaving a little irresponsibly here, given all the new opportunities, but... I still feel like me in all the ways that matter.
no subject
(She thinks, at least. And the same way Sophie doesn't understand, she can't expect Sciel to understand either. Well, they did come to talk, right? At least this is something she wants to talk about, with all the fog trauma.)
Oh, no. I mean, one other did a little after. And, uh, it's complicated. Yes, because they were three instead of five, so there is an understanding of which Cuckoo I am, but also, not really? I knew and felt all they feel, including when I was not there, and vice-versa. When I first got here, not only did I have to explain which one I was to everyone, but I was, you know, a Cuckoo. They know me but don't at the same time, because that's not really what sets us apart. It's really difficult to explain, I'm sorry.
(She's trying her hardest, at least.)
Then let's reframe as you're... Discovering what being alive without a timer feels like.
no subject
[But would she worry about it, if things were truly the same? There’s no way to tell, and she decides not to dwell on it.]
It may be difficult, but surely it’s been liberating, in some way, to be your own person? To be known entirely as Sophie, instead of as one of five?
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(She has to chew on that for a second. 'Liberating' is not the best word, but she doesn't know what word would be best either.)
I suppose you want me to be honest, so.
('Friends don't lie to friends' being the first thing Kamala told her that she listened to. She'd love to say it's great, that being her own person unthetered to them is awesome, all this freedom, all these choices, but it's... Hard, considering the journey she decided to take.
She takes a sip, watching the glass for a second before sighing as loudly as she can for some comfort.)
I guess I don't know how I feel. We have a certain really shitty reputation and we happen to be clones of one of the most influential women of our time, not to mention the hivemind aspect of it all. It, uh, feels incomplete. You can't really understand who I am and what I'm trying to accomplish without knowing me as One-In-Five, you know?
(She thinks she's done for a second as her brain processes it for a little while, and she realizes she's not. Another breath,)
... That said...? It's not... Bad. I'm just not used to all this, so I'm constantly recalibrating, but I... Like who I am, here? Or, well, I'm trying to be someone I can like?
no subject
It makes her think of Verso, actually. She can’t say for certain what makes his family a force of nature, but she knows she will never have a full picture of him as long as it remains a mystery to her. It’s no different with Sophie, even if it’s not at all the same, either.]
It’s complicated. A rare experience, with very few other who could understand what you’re going through. But that makes it even more admirable to me that you’re trying, Sophie. You’re forging your own path in the unknown.
[She takes a sip of her wine, sets the glass down, and reaches over to put a hand on her friend’s shoulder for a brief squeeze. She smiles, knowing this question is one that most people fondly hate:]
So what have you learned to like about yourself so far?
no subject
(That's the thing, though. Sciel doesn't quite know what she is trying, does she? It gets her feeling like an impostor, sometimes. To be fighting so hard against her programming, and feeling like she fooled everyone to believe she's not... Well. Who she is trying not to be. That's what makes her pensive, and it makes another sigh release from her lungs before she goggles her eyes with the question Sciel posed.
This one is loaded.)
... I don't know.