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

[mallarkey]

[ MY BAD ]

Well, I won't if you won't. Promise.

[anklets]

I honestly mean not to. [ her exhaustion pans through here, though she tries to keep a lightness of tone for the sake of semi-pleasant conversation ] It's never been much of a goal, personally.

[mallarkey]

Do our best, anyway. [ He exhales. It's tempting to ask if something in particular inspired her question to begin with. ] You should let me know if you need anything. I am a lawyer, I can probably help.

[anklets]

[ what sounds like a- laugh? kind of? perhaps it's closer to an exhale, too; that's what it feels like to her ] I haven't any law troubles, Mister Rich.

[mallarkey]

Not legal help. [ A pause. ] Just added that to sound more important.

[anklets]

It was kind enough of you to offer at all.

[mallarkey]

[ With another pause, then an exhale: ]

Well, we are all stuck together.

[anklets]

You don't need to justify yourself. Thank you, really.