[Oh... He's a little surprised?? He just figured Chad would come downstairs, but then Chad might also be mobbed by all of Spring dorm, who constantly want to give him a noogie of affection.]
Thank you. I'll be there shortly.
[And he will be! He'll knock very politely, several items in hand.]
[chad opens the door, before stepping back to let sakyou in.
it's a studio room, sectioned into a mini kitchen, a bedroom area, and a bathroom. the room's done in the same style as the rest of the spring dorm.
it's also kind of a mess. the floor is littered with boxesâsome closed, some still taped shut, and some open, revealing books and basics such as clothesâand piles of books, to the extent that you can roughly tell what paths chad takes through his room based on where you can walk unobstructed. there's not much else in the room otherwise, besides a bed; a desk on which sits a laptop, papers, and a photo frame; and a chair.]
[The look he gives the room is cursory and reflexive, rather than intensive. He's interested, but he's also polite, unfortunately... No snoopery from this lad.
He is perhaps frowning a little at all of the mess, though. No there's no "perhaps", there's definitely a frown on his face when he glances up one of the unobstructed paths created in this maze of boxes... Chad????
But it's fine, it's fine. He's not here to judge sweet Chad's housekeeping when he probably donated the seat from his own toilet for them. Instead, he just holds the items out! They're some of the origami materials.]
We don't have many of the things that would typically be used for a funeral arrangement back home, so I thought something like this would still be nice.
We could leave them by the memorial, or in the box that you set up. Cranes are traditional, but I think Sieghart-dono wasn't a very traditional man, so...
[actually, since sakyou is by the desk, he'll be able to see the photo inside the frame: it's of a young man, around chad's age when the photo was taken, and looking so much like him that they have to be related. (all the more so since he's wearing a pocket watch that looks suspiciously like chad's.) well, aside from the part where this boy is smiling cheerfully.
chad moves aside some of the things on the table... until a memory plays, and he freezes.
You are in the Demon Frontier: an ominous space, crawling with demons and devoid of any cheer. The moon hangs in the sky, amidst shadowy silhouettes.
Something constantly pulls on your consciousness, as if trying to catch your attention. (Vague whispers of join me, I will grant you what you wish for.) It threatens to overwhelm you, to fill your heart with anger and grief that are not your ownâbut you resist, putting up walls between you and the source. It leaves behind a dull ache in your head, but you do your best to focus on what's in front of you.
Your companion asks,
"... But why would you be able to hear the calls from the demon lord?"
"The power of corruption opens a door behind which dwells great power. The key to controlling it is to control the size of that door. If I lose control, then I will be no different from other corrupted warlocks."
You won't lose control, though. You refuse to. You are not defined by hatred or sorrow, and you won't be defeated by something this petty.
"The demon lords, however, are those who have crossed the door to the other side, embraced the power they found there, and transformed into demons."
"So the demon lord is calling you from behind that door?"
Tiredly, you say, "So to speak, yes."
"So, are you...?" she asks, hesitant.
"I'm not stupid enough to be convinced by a mere calling," you reply. "Also, I have no intentions of becoming a demon."]
Anyway, Sakyou's probably (nickelback voice) looked at that photograph while lying a paper flat in preparation to start folding. He's about to make a remark - siblings are important, after all - but instead he gets that! Rude!
Funny enough, the emotions are familiar to him. They're ones he feels very often, after all. This person, then - the person whose memories he's viewing - is already much stronger in many ways. He's quiet for a second in the aftermath, blinking away the foreign perspective with a sort of grim expression.]
...So it really is going to be like this.
[MEMSHARE WEEK. And not even a catalyst to blame things on like they had with the biting...]
week 3, monday
I would like to make something for Sieghart-dono together, if you have the time.
Fine. Come up to the third floor.
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Thank you. I'll be there shortly.
[And he will be! He'll knock very politely, several items in hand.]
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it's a studio room, sectioned into a mini kitchen, a bedroom area, and a bathroom. the room's done in the same style as the rest of the spring dorm.
it's also kind of a mess. the floor is littered with boxesâsome closed, some still taped shut, and some open, revealing books and basics such as clothesâand piles of books, to the extent that you can roughly tell what paths chad takes through his room based on where you can walk unobstructed. there's not much else in the room otherwise, besides a bed; a desk on which sits a laptop, papers, and a photo frame; and a chair.]
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He is perhaps frowning a little at all of the mess, though. No there's no "perhaps", there's definitely a frown on his face when he glances up one of the unobstructed paths created in this maze of boxes... Chad????
But it's fine, it's fine. He's not here to judge sweet Chad's housekeeping when he probably donated the seat from his own toilet for them. Instead, he just holds the items out! They're some of the origami materials.]
We don't have many of the things that would typically be used for a funeral arrangement back home, so I thought something like this would still be nice.
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he blinks.]
So... what exactly do you want to do with them?
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We could leave them by the memorial, or in the box that you set up. Cranes are traditional, but I think Sieghart-dono wasn't a very traditional man, so...
[The "what" shouldn't matter much, at least.]
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You would know better than me.
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[He'd only just started trying to reach out more when sweet Sieghart was RUDELY SNATCHED AWAY.]
Perhaps cranes are best...
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[Glancing around this messy ass room...]
...Shall we sit on the floor?
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I assume you've made these before...?
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Not really. I just figured it was something simple enough for the others to do.
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[Maya and her fuckin 5000 scarves...]
Would you like me to show you how to fold a crane?
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One needs a flat surface to fold the edges properly.
[So they get the table because the floor is a MESS.]
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chad moves aside some of the things on the table... until a memory plays, and he freezes.
You are in the Demon Frontier: an ominous space, crawling with demons and devoid of any cheer. The moon hangs in the sky, amidst shadowy silhouettes.
Something constantly pulls on your consciousness, as if trying to catch your attention. (Vague whispers of join me, I will grant you what you wish for.) It threatens to overwhelm you, to fill your heart with anger and grief that are not your ownâbut you resist, putting up walls between you and the source. It leaves behind a dull ache in your head, but you do your best to focus on what's in front of you.
Your companion asks,
"... But why would you be able to hear the calls from the demon lord?"
"The power of corruption opens a door behind which dwells great power. The key to controlling it is to control the size of that door. If I lose control, then I will be no different from other corrupted warlocks."
You won't lose control, though. You refuse to. You are not defined by hatred or sorrow, and you won't be defeated by something this petty.
"The demon lords, however, are those who have crossed the door to the other side, embraced the power they found there, and transformed into demons."
"So the demon lord is calling you from behind that door?"
Tiredly, you say, "So to speak, yes."
"So, are you...?" she asks, hesitant.
"I'm not stupid enough to be convinced by a mere calling," you reply. "Also, I have no intentions of becoming a demon."]
no subject
Anyway, Sakyou's probably (nickelback voice) looked at that photograph while lying a paper flat in preparation to start folding. He's about to make a remark - siblings are important, after all - but instead he gets that! Rude!
Funny enough, the emotions are familiar to him. They're ones he feels very often, after all. This person, then - the person whose memories he's viewing - is already much stronger in many ways. He's quiet for a second in the aftermath, blinking away the foreign perspective with a sort of grim expression.]
...So it really is going to be like this.
[MEMSHARE WEEK. And not even a catalyst to blame things on like they had with the biting...]
--My apologies.
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... Don't apologize. I don't know whose that was, anyway.
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...Do you think there's a possibility that it could be yours?
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I don't have any memories like that.
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Would you consider it a possibility, given what we know of what can happen to the memories of those here?
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[A little sigh; he turns his attention back to the paper under his hands.]
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[he also goes back to focusing on the paper.]
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