voice

[anklets]

[This query brought to you by a pretty handful of missing puzzle pieces, not that you'd know, since Lenalee has no intent to justify or explain that imagery, nor to keep picking at scabs until they fester.]

We've already seen how the smallest change made can rewrite the entire history of this world. People are unborn, warheads are undropped... because we've cut out the circumstances which led to their happening.

How do you think that it might be the same for us? Transports come and go so often here and no one knows why. Whatever we do, we are always altering chances, there is no reason not to consider they could also be our own. That someone arrived on a day no longer existing may suddenly leave, or return by new circumstance, or forget they were ever here before.

It may be that we don't "go home", just. "Never arrive".

[ about ten minutes after broadcast, through careful squinting and experimentation, the feed is locked from Gilbert Nightray ]

Comments

[anklets]

[She wonders how much of her worry and frustration has been allotted towards friend-grieving.]

This isn't simply because someone I knew left.

[Oz has left before. Oz may yet return. But it is because of Oz, and Allen, and Kanda, and Lavi, and General Klaud, the Noah, the broadcasts she sometimes sees and has to turn away from with a tight throat, Transports putting on their best face and telling the world that their important people have recently gone, and no one knows why, exactly, or if they'll return, or how they might be if they do.

Because the Transporter continues snatching people, and losing others.

And it hurts and it's worrying and no one understands why.]

[concealingeyes]

i get it.

i'm scared too, you know. but maybe we should find out how that thing works anyway. at least we if we can find out how people vanish, that'd be reassuring, right? whatever the answer, you could put it behind you and keep going.

1/3

[anklets]

Something like this... it is scary. But we aren't alone, right?

[anklets]

And...

[ upon her lap, the loosest of fists forming ]

[anklets]

If we learn about our Transporter, then maybe we'll know a little more about theirs, too.