snowblindrpg | [network] @Mnemosyne; video; the light we cannot see [open] Night 165

I can't sleep.

[The tablet is on the floor, lighting its own patch of paleness on the ceiling above. Beckett is lying next to it, prone on his back - that's what the angle of his arm, raised half-heartedly into the frame, suggests. He pulls more clearly into view for a moment, rising to a sitting position, to squint at the camera. His glasses are off, and his eyes glow a faint red in an ashen face.]

For all I know, I imagined it - the girl, the eyes. I'm certain the red pen was real, though, and the choice that came with it.

[He falls back again. Too tired to sit up. The tablet records to show nothing but light and shadow as he speaks.]

It may have been just me. Doubtful, but possible... but it was not just me who saw things. Perhaps we all did. I'd like to know what. Piece of some whole, or just another attack on what's left of our collective sanity... either way. For the sake of the record, if not any kind of answer.

[His relationship with answers isn't getting any less complicated. His voice drops low, dreamlike as he speaks on.] I saw a girl wearing a cloak. She was drawing the eyes, all around me... around me... until I was surrounded. She climbed on my back and drew her eyes on mine, and I knew there was no leaving. There has never been, not for me. Perhaps we are all...

[Too much. He stops abruptly, and rises again, grabbing for the tablet.]

It's all in my notes.

[The recording ends. In its place he sends his notes file out again.]

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[Somehow he was expecting to hear from Frisk, he can't stay why. But he hadn't expected to hear that. He doesn't immediately make the connection to Toriel's death or the child's probable state. His mind, unsurprisingly, leaps to the worst, and his voice is urgent.]

Still? Do you still hear any of the voices? The urges or the screaming?

[And they're admittedly a bit startled by the urgency.]

N-no. Just... just the eyes. And it's like... I blink or look at 'em and they're not there anymore. But when I look away they come back.

[Beckett lets out a long exhale, calmer, though it ends on a ragged cough. He knows what Frisk means now. He's very tired himself and half out of touch with reality enough to see the same.

Which is only relaxing to a degree.]

They are still there. I'm certain of it. We are merely being prevented from perceiving them most of the time.

[Frisk makes a quiet noise. They're silent for a moment.]

I know you're asking, but... I didn't see or hear anything else 'sides all the static.

Nothing else at all.

[Not even Toriel getting lost, her disappearing.]

[He catches the hint of what isn't being said. Beckett isn't inclined to too much pity or to protective feelings, and he isn't inclined to them now. He wants what he can get of answers. After that...]

You don't know if your mother might have experienced anything. If something she saw might have led her astray.

[Frisk's hands fist in their knees and their eyes burn. It stings. Because if what he was implying was true then that means they missed signs that meant they could have prevented this.

They're tempted to switch to text, but the keep it on voice for now. There's a small warble in their voice when they do speak, but they're fighting to keep it as steady as possible.]

She didn't say anything. I didn't... I don't think so.

[Please no.]

[He isn't surprised to hear the beginning of tears, and it doesn't matter, though it does make him appreciate somewhat that the child is trying. But he can't offer comfort, even if he were so inclined. There's no comfort for anyone here.]

She might not have confided in you if it was distressing... perhaps Enoch? There must be a pattern to who experienced what...

No. [A single word at first, soft, grief-filled in its own way, the way he hides in his own breathy tone.]

Toriel said nothing to me about any of it. I'm sorry, Beckett, we don't have these answers.

[Private:]

Leave Frisk be for now. They're hurt enough.

[He's more cautious with Enoch than he was with Frisk, for his own reasons. But that does not translate into stopping. The most it gets is a softer, asking tone.]

I can't leave things be simply because it makes someone uncomfortable. This information needs to be pooled as quickly, as thoroughly as possible. Time, death, the effects of this place, they all lose us evidence.

[They're about to apologize again for the lack of information again, that Enoch had just confirmed, then the unprivated message from Beckett pops up. Ah they... They should have known something like this would happen.]

It's okay. You don't hafta- [Stand up for them. Protect them.] I'll be fine, really.

[Note that this is said in the quietest, most subdued voice they can produce and still be heard easily.]

Beckett-...

[For a moment, he's stunned. He knew Beckett could be tactless, but dragging something he'd said in private out into the open like that did absolutely nothing but give Frisk an opportunity to feel like their emotions only got in the way.

He schools his expression as well as he can, changes tack.]

...Friends protect one another, Frisk, especially in times like this. There's no need to shoulder everything for yourself, not when I was there as well and can answer the same questions.

[It was a cold thing to do. He doesn't regret it, doesn't spare a thought to the idea. This is something he needs, and he doesn't spare a thought for people's feelings because the world doesn't, Norfinbury least of all.]

I need to know whatever you know. Both of you. Let the child speak, Enoch, they've been through more than you know.

[It should be a nice thing, to be acknowledged as more than just a kid. As maybe someone with adult experiences of their own. And yet, something in what he says makes something flare inside of them. They're still fighting to keep their voice steady.]

I- I already said what I know! I'm sorry I'm a kid and that I'm upset and useless and I waste time we don't have but I can't just know what I never did!

[Had he thought they were lying, or hiding things? The last thing he'd asked was if Enoch knew anything they might not have. Enoch just confirmed that he didn't. They don't know what Beckett wants from them anymore.]

[At almost the same time, Enoch is set off in a similar way.]

Don't assume what I know, why do you think I-

[But he stops himself. Both because he hates this sort of feeling and because he's realized Frisk is angry, too, Frisk is even more upset and Beckett hasn't asked anything more specific at all.]

...We've given you what we're able to offer alone. If you have anything more specific, something we might not think to look at... I thought that might be why you were trying, still.

That is why I'm trying. [His voice is still strained, still letting through the honest desperation. It's more Enoch who gets this response out of him, but he doesn't care if Frisk hears. There is no pretending, no covering up when these questions are at stake. He can't try to pretend he isn't desperate.]

I ask because she was not human, and her perspective may have been very different, in addition to being strongly influenced by MN. And as far as we know she was the only person to die while these events were taking place. You are certain her behaviour was no different? That she was lost, and not -

[He doesn't mean to stop there. He would have gone on. It's only by sheer luck - good or bad - that on that word his agitation outpaces his breathing and he has to stop, coughing.]

[network] @Mnemosyne; video; the light we cannot see [open] Night 165

voice;

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voice @Enoch

not private >:(

dammit Beckett

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