auroraexpress | (no subject)

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(no subject)

Who: Heroes, possibly suffering
When: Day 16, Late Morning through Afternoon
Where: Aurora

[Well, that just happened! Many people on the train are now doubtlessly the worse for wear, physically and psychologically. How are you sorting all of that out?

Alternately, maybe you have enough Sparks for a memory and you're playing it on the big screen? Or you're testing out a new power?

Or maybe you have something else in mind? Mingle away!]

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Mm. I do suppose you're right. I'm not so sure I would do the right thing in your position. I'm certain you would handle yourself better in my circumstances. And here I thought royalty were all vain and irresponsible.

[She is hating herself a little right now for just babbling about common gossip, especially after something much much worse just happened to her- it feels petty, doesn't it? Like she's some lovestruck fool. But its also better to be distracted.]

I know. This entire train is full of desperate raging libidos. Nor do I limit my appetites to men. Crow isn't really the problem, and I'm self aware enough to recognize the hypocrisy of me judging somebody else's "hangups." It's... hah. It's a small problem anyway. My own sad vanity, I think.

Careful, you'll start to sound fond of me, Hlasoh.

[But she doesn't mind. She can't even correct that assumption about royalty. It's not inaccurate. Even if it is, it only took two tyrants to nearly burn the world, didn't it? The odds aren't great...]

Rejection hurts, no matter the when, why, or how. I know that...very well. You need not be so harsh on yourself, either. What is vanity, but another name for taking pride in ourselves?

[It's not fondness, she just hates herself with the force a thousand depressed suns

In fact she laughs again.]

Oh, that's alright, I don't have to ever worry about the possibility of being proud of myself.

[...]

[Reaching over and flicking her in the forehead.]

Bad. Stoppit.

[Raising her arms and groaning in protest, but not gonna move.]

Oh, I'm only joking. I do lots of fun pranks like drinking wine with opium to see what happens.

When you've sobered up, I'd like it very much if you reviewed the definition of a 'joke'.

...The sedative isn't that strong, you know. I'm just in an unusual mood.

You've made oblique references to your self-loathing nearly every time we've spoken, I'm not sure this is an unusual mood.

I just believe it'd be a little unfair to demand you do homework stoned.

I have never actually said that I hated myself. I think that you are jumping to conclusions based on incomplete evidence.

"I don't ever have to worry of being proud of myself", was it?

[Hlasoh. Come on.]

Ha, but I never actually said anything like you're implying. I might just be extremely humble and modest.

And I might be the Night Mother herself. Come now, being obtuse about the implications doesn't help you any, either. Change the topic honestly, if you prefer.

[Okay, well it's not like it isn't obvious at this point.]

...Sure. I hate myself, and I don't want to talk about it.

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