logsville | OPEN ♥ first poem! early february

Entry tags:

OPEN ♥ first poem! early february

Who: Sayori, the Undertale household, and perhaps even you!
When: February 1-9
Where: 103 Loomis Drive, North & East Santa Rosita
What: Settling into Santa Rosita, making friends, and pretending Everything Is Fine!
Warnings: References to death & suicide

FEB 1 ♥ ARRIVAL! 103 Loomis Drive (closed to Sans & Lorna)

[She wakes up disoriented in a disconcertingly familiar way. In a very comfy bed and nice new pajamas, staring up at the ceiling of a perfect little bedroom. The memory of someone crying for help lingers, as does what felt like a long, long dream. This is where she woke up in that dream too. It's not as alarming this time, but it's more nauseating. Like someone's gone and clicked New Game without saving their progress.

At least this strange bedroom offers her the privacy to press her hands to her eyes and definitely totally not cry out of stress for a little while before she faces this strange new world.

This time, she takes a closer look at the photos. The same people feature in them; Sans and the woman who must be Lorna. If the stuff she remembers from her dream was true, at least. Kidnapped weighs a bit more heavily on her mind now. It sounded far too impossible when Sans said it in the dream, but...well, you're supposed to learn through repetition or something, right? Whatever it is, waking up here all over again makes it feel more real.

She actually gets dressed this time too. She doesn't feel like doing it, but if this really is a restart, she doesn't want to make people worry by running around in her pajamas. The clothes in the closet are cute, at least. They almost feel too cute for her, in a faraway fantasyish way. They fit her too perfectly to deny, though.

She dons a sunflower-print shirtdress with a flared skirt. Adjusts the folded collar too many times. Marvels at the size of the pockets. And spends far too much time staring at herself in the mirror before finding a headband with a big red bow on it. It's not quite right, but it's a little closer to what she usually looks like. A lot of the shoes have heels, and though they aren't high, she opts for the flattest pair in the closet because she doesn't want to klutz it up and twist her ankle. At the last minute, she even remembers to brush her teeth! And that's really about the last of the energy she has for this exhausting plot twist, but—

Smile. Smile. She has to smile. She doesn't want to be a burden.

Despite Sayori's sullen emotional state, she looks and sounds like she doesn't have a care in the world as she holds onto the banister at the bottom of the stairs and does a fun little spin-lean from it out into the hallway. She calls curiously out into the house once she's firmly on the ground floor.] Helloooo? Is anyone else here? I...think I'm supposed to live here now?

[Maybe they're not home, though? But if they aren't, she'll wait around until they are, snacking in the kitchen until they return.]

FEB 2 ♥ EXERCISE! Maple Park

[Something fun that Sayori rediscovers about suburbia is that it's harder to walk places. She's used to being able to walk to school (sort of,) so the distance she has to walk to get uptown is something she's not expecting. It's not insurmountable by any means, but it's further than she's used to, so she's really feeling it in her legs by the time she reaches North Santa Rosita.

Which is why Maple Park is the first place she stops. She's donned a long yellow coat for the February weather and is collapsed on one of the garden's benches rather inelegantly, slumped down with her hands on her stomach and her legs extended to stretch them out. Her head is lolled back against the bench's back and her breathing is heavy. While her poor posture fetches the occasional look from the townspeople more concerned with manners, Sayori is more preoccupied with resting after that unexpected amount of exercise.

After a moment, she groans, closing her eyes and whining to no one in particular.] Why's everything so far apart here? I don't know how to drive!

FEB 2-3 ♥ DINE IN! Blue Moon Diner

[Even though, in her dream, she saw and did some of the things Santa Rosita has to offer, there are still a lot of things she missed. A lot of things to be amazed by, for better or worse (better this time, she thinks; the worse will probably come later.)

In this case, it's the very cute Blue Moon Diner. And more specifically, the roller-skating servers, who Sayori watches through the front windows of the establishment. She watches like that for a while, eyes wide with wonder. She looks like she's moments from pressing her face up to the glass like a kid.] This place is so cute!

[Then, apropos of nothing, she turns to the nearest person who doesn't look terribly busy with anything else (you.) Her grin is eager and genuine.] Hey, wanna get something to eat with me?

[This is how you make friends, right? Just ask a rando to lunch with you?]

FEB 4, 6-9 ♥ STUDY! Santa Rosita Public Library

[In the days following, Sayori is a bit more prepared for getting around, especially after the luncheon. And thankfully the library is closer to the neighborhood they've all been shoved into.

Sayori doesn't seem much like the type to be hanging out in a library, but there she is anyway, set up at one of the tables with a selection of books scattered around her. Upon closer inspection, all the books are poetry collections. There's a notebook nearby with a pen tucked into its pages, as well, but Sayori is spending most of her time flitting between the various poetry collections she's picked out.

Should she be approached, she startles a bit, and then speaks in a voice like a stage whisper. Like she's trying very hard to do an indoor voice but doesn't really understand how.] Oh! I'm sorry, do you need one of these?

FEB 6-9 ♥ POETRY & PEOPLE-WATCHING! Rose Garden Park

[It's pretty cold to be spending a bunch of time outside, but Sayori doesn't seem very bothered as she's set up at one of the picnic tables. She's bundled up in a heavy coat and pants this time, and she's got a brown paper lunchbag with her, regardless of the time of day. A notebook is open in front of her, and about half the time, she can be seen writing in it or at least pondering its pages for what to write next.

The other half of the time, she stares contemplatively out into the park. She watches the children at the playground often, but doesn't make a move to join them, unlike in her dream. She seems like she's in much deeper thought, frankly, her expression neutral and her gaze sometimes faraway.]

ANYTIME ♥ WILDCARD! Anywhere

[ None of these float your boat? Feel free to wildcard running into Sayori elsewhere in North or East Santa Rosita prior to February 10th!

For handwaved introductions or a custom starter, hit me up wherever you're most comfortable: ceesawaseesaw, cee#9435 on Discord, or my contact post. Sayori will also be attending the luncheon on February 5th, so feel free to assume your character saw or met her there if you'd like to tag the later prompts! ]

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Monika had been wondering if her dream about Sayori had been real. Of course, the notion of dreams being "real" was nonsense, yet Claude and her had met in a dream before finding each other in the city. And judging by the sight, the dream about Sayori had been real, too. So much for the assumption that her presence in this place was due to her being "special" or "unique" in some way. Clearly she wasn't. Whatever she had, Sayori had it too.

It was strange. In a way, Sayori's presence was comforting. She was possibly the one person from the game she considered a friend. The one person who had suffered the same fate than her, albeit briefly. But... She would take everything. If there is any happiness to be found in this place, Sayori will be the one to take it it. If there are friends to be made, Sayori will be their favorite. If there is love to be found... Sayori will find it.

This place is getting more and more depressing. ]

Mind if I join?

[ When Monika finally approaches Sayori at her picnic table, there is no animosity in her voice. Resignation, perhaps. And she smiles regardless. ]

[With her pen already held still against the paper, the way that Sayori freezes at the sound of the familiar voice is almost imperceptible. Like part of a forgotten dream suddenly coming back to her, she remembers the distinct thunk of the mannequin monster's head hitting the floor of the library. And the person who helped her.

The tips of her fingers run cold, but not because of the weather.

There's no danger here this time. Nothing to distract her from the complicated knot of emotion that wells in her chest. As much as she loves the Literature Club, as much as she understands now what Monika was going through, she can't forget the vile feeling of knowing that her mind was violated by someone she trusted. She can't forget the gruesome, pitiful way she died and the aching emptiness that drove her to it. And she can't ignore what happened in her absence, the inexcusable fates of Yuri and Natsuki.

And yet.

Her stomach turns, but she takes a deep breath while her head is still bowed and her fluffy hair hides her face. When she looks up to answer Monika, she's smiling pleasantly, the same big smile that Monika is used to.] I don't mind! Did you come here to write too?

[For Sans, January wasn't strange and dreamlike--or at least no more than this entire situation is strange and a little bit dreamlike. There's no surprise, therefore, when Sayori shows up on the ground floor, but there is a bit of confusion at what she's saying.]

Yeah, I'm pretty sure you're stuck with us for now. [Maybe having been here a month is making it sink in for her?]

[In a way, it's sort of a relief that Sans seems to recognize her. They don't know each other well, but at least he's familiar. And not in the way that a lot of the things here feel familiar, where they remind her of the prison that was her world. Just...friendly familiar, basically.

Even though she didn't look particularly tense, there's still a shift in her body language that becomes more natural, her shoulders slumping a little more with relief as she grins.] Hey, it could be a lot worse!

Don't worry, I promise I'll do all my chores.

[She says that, but she will not.]

Has Lorna been giving you chores? [Sans definitely hasn't been. His house rules mostly involve "put dishes somewhere near the sink, ideally" and "tell me if the snacks are gone so I can buy more before I decide I want to have some too".] As long as you're not leavin' weird stuff by the windows, it should be fine. And that's just 'cause the HHA gets snippy, or I'd say go nuts with the windows.

[Sans's standards are not the highest in the land.]

[Kipo's got nothing better to do, so she's more than happy to have lunch with a potential new friend.]

Sure! I've been craving a milkshake anyway.

[Now it's Sayori's turn to look confused. Her eyebrows furrow at the question, and though she waits until he's done giving his guidelines, they clearly go in one ear and out the other while she's thinking about something else.

It seems like her brain has to work a bit to figure out how to ask what's struck her as strange about that, but eventually:] Wait.

Have I...been living here?

Yeah. [Sans's confusion is obvious, but as he thinks about it, he arrives at a possibility, remembering how he felt when he showed up again.] D'you remember January?

[That's the spirit, Kipo! Sayori's expression grows brighter. New small friend!] Awesome! C'mon, it's super cold out here!

[She gestures Kipo to follow her as she makes her way into the diner, a whirlwind of excitement.] Are the milkshakes here good? I've never been to a place like this before.

[...nor has she really ever had a milkshake, come to think of it...]

[Her mouth twists into a frown as she tries to dig around in her brain.] Not all of it... It feels like it was a dream.

[Though she says that with some seriousness, she doesn't sound as bothered as one might expect.]

That happened to me, too, when I first showed up. But nobody else like us had showed up yet, so there wasn't anyone to experience it from the other side, I guess. [January had just felt like--well, January. Strange, and Sans had been generally distracted by the 1961 repeating situation, but all of his memories are in place as far as he can tell. (As far as he can tell is always the problem, though, isn't it?)]

Maybe I should introduce myself again. Name's Sans.

[Sayori...laughs. It's just a chuckle; a bit of a sheepish one, in fact.] Wow. I hope I've been doing all my homework!

[She really should be more troubled about the idea of going about her life here without remembering most of it.

But she just barrels on after that joke.] Don't worry, I remember you! It's you and Miss Lorna, and you guys are supposed to be my assigned family or something, right? And we ate some weird lime jello with stuff inside it.

[Sans is familiar with joking about things you might be uncomfortable with, so he accepts the joking demeanor easily enough.] Right. And my brother, Papyrus, is next door, and he's the coolest. That's the most important thing to remember.

[She stands up straighter, eyes wide with sudden enthusiasm.] Oh, yeah! I'm supposed to call him Uncle Papyrus!

[She remembers this sick prank idea! That's important too, probably!]

No. I was just taking a stroll when I spotted you, ahaha!

[ She moved around the table and sat opposite from Sayori, remaining silent for a moment. The usual big smile, her usual bright self... Ah, Sayori was so good at hiding her thoughts and emotions. Perhaps even more so than she was. Did she remember her "epiphany" or was she from a time before it all happened? And what about her mental state...? Was she herself, or was she still suffering the effects of what had been done to tinker with her file? ]

That reminds me of that time when we did a picnic with Nastuki and Yuri. Do you remember?

[ A nice memory... But so blurry. It was so hard to remember the details, everything was hazy besides a very basic outline of events. As if that wasn't a memory at all. And in all likelihood, it wasn't. It was just a picture and a few lines given to them to "flesh" their character out, or so she guessed.

But they did have real memories. And because of her, Sayori had... The worst memory of them all. It would be great if she didn't remember, but this place wasn't so kind, was it? ]

Sayori... [Her smile dropped and she looked down.] What do you remember?

[Eyes wide and intent, Sayori watches as Monika settles at the opposite side of the table and seems to try to gather her thoughts. Sayori tends to be easily distracted, but Monika has her full attention now; it's almost like the attentive looks that Sayori saved for important club-related conversations. Like she's waiting for Monika to share a poem, or give some input on a club leadership matter.

That's not it, of course. There's no excitement in her gaze now, similar as the expression may seem at first glance. There's only anticipation, and it's difficult to tell what kind of place it's coming from.

In actuality, Sayori is watching for something much deeper. She's a bit of a dummy, that much is for sure, but she's not as oblivious as the others sometimes assumed. (Though with the power of the President, Monika knows better than that, doesn't she?) She's sensitive enough to the feelings of others that it's not hard to tell when something is off if she just pays a little more attention.

So that's what she's doing. She wants to know how Monika feels about this chance meeting. Monika has always been harder to read than Yuri and Natsuki, and especially the Main Character, but still Sayori watches. She doesn't really know what she's looking for, if anything in particular. She just...wants to know.

Her eyes light up with some recognition at the mention of the memory. If it can even be called that.] Yeah! I think about that cake Natsuki made all the time, ehehe~

[She answers the way she's expected to, goofy and thinking about food. It's not a lie, but it is a defense she sets up while she ponders the real question.

Monika bows her head; part of Sayori hopes that it's out of remorse, but a sour twinge in her chest reminds her that it could be anything. It's an easy hiding spot, one she uses often enough herself.

Tapping the back of her pen idly against her journal, Sayori rests her elbows on the table and sets her chin in her free hand, finally looking away from Monika to fixate on a random tree in the distance and hope it calms the upset in her stomach and the uncomfortable tightness in her throat. Her own smile stays, but it's become hollow with her shift in focus.] Probably more than I'm supposed to, ahaha.

[Her laughter is hollow too.]

Did you know that I'd become President if you got deleted?

[ President... Yes, somehow that position had granted her the epiphany. She had to wonder if Sayori would still have been a "choice," had this version of the game not gone wrong too? ]

I did not. [A pause.] It makes sense, though. The game seeks to continue through any means necessary. When I... [She looked to the side.] When I tinkered with it, it felt like it was fighting against me.

[ It was strange in and of itself. Programs were so easy to break. A wrong line of code and you could break an entire game. But Doki Doki Literature Club, no. It kept working in spite of everything. Nearly as if the game itself was alive. Not really something that would surprise here if it were true. ]

I'm sorry. That's what I want to say. For what I did to you. To Yuri and Natsuki. To the player. For your epiphany. [She tilts her head back up to look at Sayori. She's trying so hard to look neutral but there's a tinge of sadness behind her facade.] If I'd just played my role, you would have had a happy ending without ever suspecting the truth. But...

[ If she had not tinkered with their files and the game, she would have taken her own life with Yuri's knives. That much she had decided early on. Their world was too empty and hollow for one who knew the truth. It was hell. And thus Sayori would have become Club President regardless.

The only way for Sayori to have been truly and perfectly happy would have been for her to silently accept to live a painful and empty life. To accept forever being a side character with no hopes of accomplishing anything. To accept letting her unaware friends take all the attention of the one thing that was real in their world. To accept the horror of that void of color, lights and screams whenever the game was turned off.

Perhaps a better person could have been that selfless for the sake of her friends. But that wasn't her. ]

But I am a bad person. I've done horrible things and sometimes it feels like I will again. I hate myself for the suffering I inflicted upon you and yet when we first met here, I considered for a moment letting your doppelganger kill you. [Of course ultimately she had decided otherwise, but that didn't change what had gone through her mind. She shook her head.] Apologies from me would be as hollow as the reality we hail from.

Exactly. [Good to see Sayori remembers the important things.] You're gettin' back into the swing of things already.

Ahaha, I guess so!

[Yeah!!!

...Her demeanor suddenly becomes more subdued, though the smile persists despite the somewhat troubled furrow in her brow.] So that weird stuff with the mannequins was real, huh?

[She remembers him warning her about dangerous stuff happening in the town. But she can probably be forgiven for hoping that was just a nightmare.]

[I'm sorry.

Sayori's pen stops tapping.

At times, she thinks it's kinder not to look directly at people who are in pain. Not ignoring them, of course, but if someone is showing a vulnerable side of themselves without meaning to, sometimes it makes them feel better not to be watched closely. (Sayori only knows this, of course, because that's how she feels when people might look upon her pain.)

Maybe that's why she doesn't look back to Monika right away. Or maybe it's a more selfish fear: that she'll look back and find no sincerity in Monika's face as she tries to apologize. Still, at For your epiphany, her gaze is drawn back to the other girl, her smile having fallen and leaving a puzzled narrowing of the eyes in its place. She doesn't interrupt, but— if there's one thing Monika doesn't need to apologize for, it's the nature of their world. She was as much a victim of it as the rest of them. Even more so, in a lot of ways. It's not her fault that that fate fell upon Sayori eventually.

...Monika does look sad. She's trying not to, but she does. Does that make Sayori feel better or worse? She doesn't know. Even though becoming President had granted her knowledge of Monika's deeds, the knowledge didn't feel complete. It didn't fit with the image she had of the friend who ran the Literature Club. Even now, it just feels wrong. It feels wrong to look at Monika and hear her say she considered letting Sayori die.

Again, Sayori can't help but think, and feels a sharp twist of disgust at the bitterness in the thought. Disgust and bitterness and— and pain, a cold swooping dropping feeling in her stomach. Her mouth twists into a frown, her jaw set and tense, but it's still a far milder expression than this confession really warrants. She's always been good at hiding her pain, and compared to the epiphany of the Presidency, this revelation is much smaller. At least in the cosmic sense.

It hurts worse in some ways, though.

For a moment, Sayori is silent, eyeing Monika in a thoughtful way as she tries to find words. For as much solace as she finds in poetry, she's not great at eloquently saying things off the cuff, and it feels like there are so many thoughts whirling around in her head that it's impossible to grasp any single one to articulate.

Eventually, she finds one. Despite her best efforts, an undercurrent of sadness leaks into her words, her gaze heavier than she means it to be.] Why? Did you think that getting rid of me would make you happy?

[Which time? In the game, or with the doppelganger? Sayori doesn't clarify. She doesn't touch the matter of apologies for now, either. Monika claims them to be hollow, but Sayori doesn't have a full enough picture yet to decide that.]

[ Why... How could she even begin to explain it? It would be a lengthy explanation, so she took a bit of time before replying. ]

It's been a year since I've come to the realization...

[ It had felt like a year anyway, odds are in real time it had been much less. ]

Everything changed. It changed how I looked at our world. How I felt and experienced things.

[ Wall of text incoming. Monika is deeply (not) sorry. ]

Our reality is so small... And I could see every facet of it. There was nothing exciting left any more. Yuri, Natsuki and you... Unaware as you were, you blindly followed the script. Whenever I'd talk to you, I knew what your answers would be. You started sounding less and less like people, more and more like props used to make an empty place feel alive.

I kept smiling but inside I felt... Empty. Living was becoming unbearable. I didn't know how long I'd last. So I tried experimenting with things. I started looking for ways to escape from our reality. And if all failed... For ways to end my life. Deleting myself sounded like a good option. Quick and painless. I did try Yuri's knives too. It's a more painful way to end things but I think I understand Yuri a bit better now... All things considered, I'd say I held up pretty well for a while. But then, something even worse happened.

[ She marked a pause. So far she had managed to control herself, but her voice was starting to crack. That was the worst fate she could think of. The one reason this place would always be better than the Literature Club in spite of what horrors awaited them. ]

Do you know what happens when our game is turned off, Sayori? [She doubted it unless the player had turned the game off while Sayori was aware of the truth, but you never knew.] When it happens we cease existing. But somehow, I remained conscious. We're in a void of static and flashing colors, of lights and screams. Every single time the game was turned off... Those lights and those noises would hammer at me until I wouldn't even be able to form any thoughts.

I wasn't even allowed to pass out or die. I just had to endure it for what felt like an eternity. Years, decades, maybe even more. It's like I didn't have a body any more, and yet every inch of me hurt. No eyes to see nor ears to hear, yet I experienced every last second of it. No mouth to scream yet I remember myself calling for help. I screamed, begged for mercy. And it did not matter. No one came. No one.

[ A deep breath followed by a bit of a smile. ]

Then something happened. Something wonderful. The game was turned back on! And they appeared. The player... Through them I could get a glimpse of the other side. An unknown was introduced into our small reality. It was so exhilarating! Of course, they turned the game off sometimes. Yet, now I had something to hold onto. I could see a happy ending for me. I could see an ending where I wouldn't have to die or be condemned to the void.

But... [Voice cracking again.] I wasn't allowed near them. The three of you were the "romanceable" characters, whereas I only existed as a side character. Every time I wanted to spend time with them, the three of you would intervene. At every possible turn, I was denied. I had already dehumanized you so much... So I grew resentful. Angry. I couldn't bear seeing you take them from me when you didn't even realize how wonderful they truly were. I... I'd never wanted to get rid of how. You three were still my friends, no matter how horrible my thought process had become. So I tried to make them hate you and love me, but the game always found ways to force them to romance you. So I... I...

[ There was no need to explain more, it was obvious enough. Or so she hoped. She didn't want to say much more. ]

I haven't experienced the void since I woke up here... I can't feel the other side either. It kind of feels like my chance at a happy life. But then I saw you. The eternal little ray of sunshine who, by design, will always cast a shadow on me.

[ And finally she cracked. Burying her face in her hands, she started crying and sobbing, so much so that it would be hard making out what she was saying. It was wrong. Sayori was the victim here, and she was the one who had wronged her. She shouldn't be crying. But she couldn't help it. ]

You... You're going to take everything from me. No matter what it is I want, somehow you will take it from me. It's not your fault, I know it, but-but... Why?! I just... I-I just want to be happy...!

Ah, yeah, sorry 'bout that. [Not that it's Sans's fault, but it's more "sorry you're in a weird town where terrible things happen".] If you remember that, you already know this place can be dangerous. Not all the time, but considerin' the stuff that happens, it ain't great.

[Wow. Bummer!

She groans and leans dramatically back against the railing of the stairs. It's a real production, but it does well to hide the inkling of real fear in her chest.] Maaan. I don't want to learn how to fight weird monsters! That sounds like so much exercise!

Right? [Sayori is clearly the kind of person Sans can understand.] I just run from 'em. Still way too much exercise, but less than fighting.

[Also, Sans has no idea where to even start with fighting effectively without magic. Blue magic alone only gives him so many options for self-defense.]

But there's people here who'll help guys like us out. Papyrus loves exercise, he'd help you get away.

I tried to be nice to mine so we wouldn't have to fight, but she didn't like that very much either. [This did come as a genuine disappointment to her at the time. It still kind of does. Aside from the point about exercise, she just doesn't want to fight in general.

She straightens up again, sort of. More like she stops draping over the railing to instead slouch forward, arms crossed sulkily over her chest.] There were people who helped me, but it'd be really bad if something happened and no one else was around...

[That's the sound of her begrudgingly starting to resign herself to exercising.]

Yeah, maybe someone should set up a buddy system or something. [Not Sans, but maybe someone. Of course, Sans wouldn't want to walk around with a buddy all the time. Maybe if there's some pattern to the bad things that happen--some way they can tell when exactly they'll happen. But Sans is guessing that would be too easy.] I bet Papyrus'll be excited to help if you want to learn that kind of stuff. But if he tries to convince you to get me involved, tell him I told you it ain't gonna work.

[Sans refuses exercise!]

[As hurt as Sayori is, as cold as the sting of betrayal feels, part of her wants to think that Monika is still her friend somewhere underneath it all. Still the reliable leader that she formed the Literature Club alongside. Maybe she has the right to be angry about it all. But more than anything, she just wants to understand.

So she listens.

Some of what Monika says isn't new to Sayori. The way everything unfolded before her, the all-consuming knowledge of every possibility in the script: Sayori knows those now too. Every story beat, every flag, every line of code... Certainly, she can see how that alone could have become too much to bear. Even though she had the love and dedication of the player to hold onto when the epiphany came to her, even though she did what she ultimately thought was best in the end, the heavy strain of that knowledge grated on the edges of her mind in a way that she knew no one deserved to live with. That's why she tried to give the player a proper ending. A proper goodbye. To let them keep all their cherished memories with the club and then put the game to rest for good, so that none of them would have to endure the endless cycle of the game anymore.

Some would probably call that a mercy kill. But what else could she have done? What would have happened if things had been just a little different? If she'd been in Monika's position, or if the player hadn't cared for them so much, or—?

The game seeks to continue through any means necessary. As chilling as that is, Sayori knows it's true. That's why she had to end it, no matter what.

So she spared herself the fate of pixellated oblivion that Monika describes. In retrospect, it sounds familiar. Not because Sayori herself experienced it, but because she read Monika's poems. The noise, it won't stop. / Violent, grating waveforms / Squeaking, screeching, piercing... That was what she wrote about, wasn't it? All of her poems— they were about this, weren't they?

The realization makes Sayori's heart wrench. Of course she didn't realize at the time. Maybe she couldn't have, bound to her programming as she was. But they were sharing their poems so that they could better connect with each other as a club. Was part of Monika hoping that maybe someone else would realize, so she wouldn't have to be alone with it anymore? She could have written about anything else she wanted, and none of them would have questioned it at all... Was she holding out hope that they'd break free of the script to help her, or is Sayori just making excuses for her so that she doesn't have to believe this is as terrible as Monika says?

By the time Monika finishes, Sayori's knuckles are white around her pen. Her stomach feels sick and hollow, like someone's gone into her with an ice cream scooper and only left a half-melted mess behind. It hurts, it hurts, and even with the anger and confusion at all the things that don't add up, her heart aches to watch Monika cry like this. Because of her. All she's done is exist, and— and she can't even do that without causing people pain.

She didn't even want this second existence. She was content to die if that meant an end to the misery of the Literature Club.

When she opens her mouth, she means to speak. But what comes out instead is a sound halfway between a laugh and a sob, laughter that's ragged and raw with self-derision and guilt and betrayal. She presses her pen flat between her hand and her journal as she bows her head, her other hand closing into a fist by her neck around the memory of a rope.] Why would you think that I—

Why would I do that? There's nothing special about me. You— [she hesitates, chokes on her words, and continues with an edge of bitterness as she fights back tears with another self-deprecating laugh,] you went into my head, you know I'm not what everyone thinks I am. There's no way this place is gonna make people love me, or whatever you think is going to happen.

I don't want to get in your way. I never wanted to— I just wanted everyone to be happy. I didn't want any of this!

[ It wasn't her fault. It was how she was programmed. But how could she tell her that...? Even when Monika had messed up with her file so much, she had still confessed her love. It defied logic, but she had done it. She remembered how furious and hateful she had felt when that confession had happened. And then... And then... ]

I'm... I'm so sorry...

[ Why did she even bother saying she was sorry? It meant nothing coming from a monster. Yes, she felt awful. She loathed herself for what she had done. More than anything, she wished she could erase the pain she had inflicted upon Sayori. But if the same events were to repeat... She didn't know what she'd do. She wanted to say she would never do that again. That's what she had promised to the player. She wanted to be a good person. But the mere thought of going back to such a hollow existence, of being condemned to the void once again...

How could one's apologies mean anything when they had the potential of doing their horrible deeds all over again? ]

I'm so... so... selfish...

[ Here she was crying about her own fate, making the victim of her manipulations feel even worse. Worse, Sayori was depressive and if pushed could show suicidal tendencies. How could this be described as anything but monstrous? This was wrong. And she had to do something about it.

Monika placed her hands on the table, head down and coughing to clear her throat. She was supposed to be the responsible one. And even if she wasn't, she couldn't keep crying and making Sayori worse. It wasn't easy but she could hold the flow of tears back in. Or at least, she could hold it back enough that it wouldn't make her speaking inteligible. ]

You... [She tilted her head back up, looking at Sayori. There were still a few tears flowing, but at least she could speak properly.] You're a better person you've ever given yourself credit for. You've lived all your life with those demons in your head... And yet you still smile. You still think of making everyone happy.

[ These weren't empty words meant to just comfort her. Monika truly admired her strength. She had barely spent a year with demons in her own head and she'd already considered suicide. One year and she'd become a monster who prioritized her own happiness over that of her friends.

But after a lifetime of depression? Sayori was still a source of happiness for anyone fortunate enough to know her. Utterly selfless. And the most painful thing in all of this? Sayori would never accept she was a wonderful person. Never... Unless she received the help she so desperately needs. The help she doesn't deem herself worthy of receiving. ]

Don't listen to that voice in your head... It's wrong... It's so wrong...

[ Did she mean the voice Sayori had had to deal with her whole life? Or what she had felt when Monika had... Well. Perhaps both. Both voices were wrong. ]

[Kipo follows Sayori in, grinning to herself. She's never really had company when going to the diner before.]

Yeah, they're great! Although, I don't know if it's possible to even have a bad milkshake...

And me either. Not until I got here anyway.

[Sayori's eyes light up at the suggestion of a buddy system, but — just as quickly, she realizes an effective buddy would probably come to know a little too much about her under circumstances like these. So she adjusts course on that response:] I'm not organized enough to set up a system like that, ahaha. But maybe I'll be someone's buddy if someone else does it!

[Maybe.]

I'll pass the message along when I talk to him, but I might forget parts of it.

[It's a ridiculously short message. She will not forget parts of it. She's just giving Sans a hard time.]

[Catching sight of an open booth, Sayori is quick to lead Kipo to it, already undoing the buttons of her heavy coat now that they're indoors.

Man. Kipo has a point.] You know, you're right! It'd be really hard to mess up ice cream and stuff!

["And stuff"... She doesn't know what else goes into a milkshake.

She settles down in one side of the booth, setting her coat aside and grinning all the while, clearly enamored with the novelty of the brightly-colored booths and the neon fixtures.] The place I came from was like...almost sixty years ahead of this place. Was it like that for you too?

[She's just sort of assuming that Kipo is not native to Santa Rosita, given her purple hair.]

Can't ruin a milkshake, and if you try, you get milk!

[Kipo flops down in the opposite booth, removing her coat and setting it aside.]

Well, I come from a place where moooost of humanity is underground living in giant burrows, and the surface is kind of in ruins? Humans haven't lived on the surface in like, 200 years!

[So she's pretty far from the future.]

Edited 2021-02-16 01:01 (UTC)

[ lorna's been out for a little while and hadn't checked the pictures over before she'd left, but she notices something off immediately upon walking though the door - some extra presence she can sense through the metal in what she's wearing, the clips in the shoes or the buttons on her dress. she heads immediately towards the kitchen, but pauses when she notices a third person in one of the photographs adorning the walls - there's a girl there, one she'd never seen before but is clearly meant to be her daughter.

well, that answers the question of why something had felt off. she slows her steps, peering in the doorway of the kitchen at the girl, who at least seems unharmed and mostly okay.

but it could also be that she's putting on a brave face, which she can relate to.

she walks through after a moment's observation, setting the groceries on the table and giving the girl a gentle, cautious smile. ]

Hey. Do you know who I'm supposed to be?

[Sayori perks up a little when she hears the other woman approach, sitting up straighter and smiling around the mouthful of chips she's been snacking on. She even swallows before answering (this time!)] Hi!

[Putting on a brave face is one way to put it. She certainly doesn't seem terribly bothered right now; in fact, she looks more excited to meet Lorna than anything.] You were in all the photos, so you must be Miss Lorna, right? You and Sans are my assigned parents! Or something like that.

["Something like that" cushions the blow of weirdness here, but it's as much for Sayori's benefit as it is Lorna's. The idea of having parents at all is still pretty alien to her.]

[Sayori had already been glancing at the menu, but Kipo's claim yanks her attention right back, a look of astonishment on her face.] Whoooa! That's crazy!

[But not in the "I don't believe it" way. She pretty clearly believes it.] We still live in normal houses and stuff in my world...

[Well. Sort of. The world her world was based off of had people living in normal houses.] What the heck happened to the surface? How'd you guys dig holes big enough to live in??

[Even though Monika tries to apologize again, Sayori doesn't look at her. She's trying to take deep breaths, because her throat feels too tight. The collar of her coat suddenly feels too close, and she tugs it further away from her neck, hands shaking as she braces them tightly where she holds them. It's not a rope. It's not a rope, it's not a rope. She's in a park with her journal, and the air is fresh and cold, and children are playing on the playground equipment, and she's just talking to Monika. Just Monika.

Just Monika.

She squeezes her eyes shut and feels tears begin to roll down her cheeks, which makes her face burn with shame but which she focuses on the sensation of nonetheless, because it's real. The rope isn't real, that's just a memory, but her tears are real. Monika's voice is real. Monika's voice continues, shaping words despite her own tears, despite her own pain. Sayori has no choice but to listen, because if she doesn't, she might think too hard about the pressure in her throat and remember—

Remember when—

You're a better person than you've ever given yourself credit for.

Is she? Is she, really? She tries to be a good person. She tries to help others. But how much of that is really her, and how much of it is the act she puts on so that no one will ever catch on to how wretched she feels on the inside? Is there even a difference between the two anymore? It's easy to focus on the feelings of others before her own. Isn't it just a different kind of selfishness when she uses that to deflect attention away from her own pain?

The tears rolling off her face hit the paper of her journal, plip plip. She abandons her pen and takes a deep, gasping breath as she uses that hand to wipe her face furiously on her sleeve, the other hand still keeping her coat held far away from her neck. She speaks without thinking, voice cracking and tone almost petulant.] Y-you don't have to say that stuff just because you feel bad. It's— [a beat of hesitation, a catch in her breath, but she continues,] it's not like any of it was even real. I was just— programmed to be depressed.

[It's easy to believe that about herself in the moment, as worthless as she seems. Ironically, as that programmed depression has taught her to think. But is that really how she feels? Would she say the same thing about what Yuri and Natsuki were going through? She wouldn't, but she's not thinking about that right now. She just— doesn't want to be here. Doesn't want to be dealing with this. It would be easier for everyone if she were gone. That's what's at the forefront of her mind right now.]

[ it's good that she's already been brought up to speed on what's going on. lorna's got no problem with explaining them, but it's a relief to have one step out of the way. she's not sure how she already knows who she and sans are (though it occurs to her she may have already met her assigned dad), but she's sure it can be chalked up to the weird shit that happens around here.

her smile grows a little wider and warmer at the girl's answer and she nods. ]

Yeah, something like that. What's your name?

[Sayori dusts the potato chip crumbs and grease off of her hands and pushes the bag of chips aside, hopefully to remember to close it back up properly later.] My name's Sayori! Sans filled me in on the situation. And I guess I had a dream where I've been living here since last month? But Sans remembers it too, so I don't really know how that works!

[Weird shit indeed!

She's entirely too cheerful in professing that she has no idea how the logistics of this situation work out, but the important thing is that she's here regardless, and she wants to get along with the people she's going to be living with!]

[ she frowns, because she doesn't remember it, but it's one of the tamer things that's happened since she's wound up in this place. she starts to put the groceries away as sayori talks, looking back at her every so often as she stores items in the cabinets and the refrigerator. ]

I don't, either. But there's a lot that happens like that around here. What else do you remember?

[Hmm. She touches her index finger to her chin, looking to the ceiling in thought as she tries to access the other pieces of the dream.] It was New Year's at first — 1961 again — and there was snow so I played with the kids and some other people a lot. There were some cool movies playing or something, but I don't think I went to see them. And I had a dream about some creepy mannequin thing stealing my body parts, then later they were walking around following people and trying to kill them.

[A decisive nod. That about sums it up. She doesn't mention that her doppelganger definitely tried to kill her too, partially because she doesn't want to cause needless concern and partially because Lorna probably knows better about that stuff anyway. Since she's been here longer and all.

Ah, one more thing:] Oh, and all the people here that aren't like us are kind of weird. Nothing seems to bother them!

You've caught on quickly. [ and she's sure having a month's worth of memories also has something to do with that, but sayori seems to have adapted almost alarmingly well.

the groceries now put away, lorna comes to sit in front of her - not-daughter, she supposes, though she's not sure if that's how the will want her to refer to her or not. the term doesn't feel quite right, but she does still feel protective of her. ]

The good news about the people here who aren't like us is that it makes the people who are like us easier to spot. So if something goes wrong in town and you can't find me or Sans, someone in our situation should still be easy to find.

[ "I was just programmed to be depressed."

What could she possibly respond to that? Strictly speaking it was... True. Their creator had designed them to be that way. He had programmed Sayori to be depressed. He had programmed Yuri with self-harm issues. He had programmed Natsuki to have an abusive father. He could have programmed happy lives for all of them, but instead he chose to give them miserable lives.

Comparatively speaking, she had had it easy until her epiphany. Perhaps that was why she hadn't had her own route. People playing these sorts of game love feeling as though the love interests have issues only they can fix. Seeing a cute girl with issues? It evokes feelings of protectiveness and even a sense power in players. "She can't be happy unless she loves me and I take care of her!" Was it why they had all been dealt with such horrible lives, as a cheap way to endear and please players? If so...

Perhaps... Perhaps even her "epiphany" had been part of their creator's will. It suited the pattern he'd displayed of ensuring none of them would ever be allowed to know happiness. Ensuring they'd pursue love in desperate attempts to dull the pain. ]

I...

[ She looked back down, at a loss for word. She didn't know how to comfort Sayori. She didn't even know how to deal with the consequences of her reasoning herself. If it was true, if everything had been programmed... Maybe her own rebellion against the game had been the plan all along. Maybe she'd never had free will. And what of this place? Perhaps even her very thoughts at this moment were the result of the script. Perhaps their meeting here was a sick play by their creator to make them suffer more. It was like having everything she'd believed shattered once more.

It was only a possibility, one that could never be proven or disproved. Not only that but it was unlikely. How could a human programmer possibly program sentience in video game characters? Program ways for those characters to sense the real world? Even proper AIs weren't that advanced. But it didn't matter. It would require to think rationally and right now she couldn't. The realization that such a thing was even a possibility was enough to leave her speechless.

So she remained silent, saying absolutely nothing. Even if all of this was true, did it make the pain any less real...? No. The same was true for Sayori's depression. Regardless of its origins, it was real. Its effects were real. Her feelings were real. The origin didn't matter. She needed help. She deserved happiness. That was what Monika wanted to say. But... Even knowing this... It was a thought much too painful to bear. So painful, she couldn't speak or even bring herself to move. Sayori needed help, but she couldn't even give her that. She could do something good for someone she considered a friend, someone she'd promised to never harm again. But all she could do was wallow in her own misery.

If anyone was useless, it wasn't Sayori. Not in Monika's mind. ]

[Alarmingly well indeed.

She laughs, maybe just a shade bashful at Lorna's remark. As Lorna comes to sit, Sayori rests her elbows on the table and props her chin in her hands so she can more comfortably lean forward for this conversation. Somewhat proudly:] Yeah! I've been paying really close attention, promise.

[She's not all that smart, but she can take things seriously when they're important!]

A lot of us still look like we came from the future. Different hair colors and hairstyles and stuff like that. So even though we all have to wear the clothes, sometimes it's still pretty obvious who's like us. [There are behavior differences too, but she doesn't mention that; she doesn't like to make people feel scrutinized or judged, so it's better not to bring up that she notices things like that sometimes.]

[When only silence fills the space where Sayori's anxious mind is expecting the response to continue, she cautions another look at Monika, looking up through her wet eyelashes without entirely lifting her head. But Monika isn't looking at her anymore. Her stiff fingers clutch her coat tighter, clench into a nervous fist so hard that she feels the bite of her own nails in her palm. Her jaw is so tense that it hurts to swallow. With a stab of guilt, she realizes through the sick spiral in her mind that she's somehow hurt Monika.

Putting aside the complications of hurting someone who hurt you first, Sayori just doesn't understand why. Was Monika being genuine? Did she really mean those nice things? Or— maybe it's the opposite, and she's hurt that Sayori implied she was a bad liar? Neither seem very likely. No one who's looked through Sayori's programming would say that she was a good person. But even though Monika did terrible things, Sayori doesn't want to think of her as a liar, either. Especially not one so attached to her own lies that such a remark would upset her.

Maybe it's something else. Maybe Sayori shouldn't have said that none of it was real. But... It's true, is the thing. Monika knew that better than everyone. That's the reason she did everything she did, as far as Sayori understood her explanation. That horrible truth is what drove her to action, taking the selfishness inside her and magnifying it into something monstrous and ugly, just as Monika herself had done with the darkness inside of the other club members.

It was fine for Sayori and the others not to be real when Monika was pushing them to death. What's the problem now?

She doesn't get it, and she feels a little twisted up and nasty over trying to figure it out, finding resentment at the core of the issue that she doesn't like. But her sniffling being the only thing to break the silence is starting to bother her almost as much. To say the least of the guilt she feels over being mean to Monika, even unintentionally. Even if some might say it was deserved. That's not the kind of person Sayori is, even though a part of her is so, so angry.

So, after another sniffle, she weakly breaks the lull in conversation.] ...sorry. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings.

[Not now. Not ever. If it had really been true that removing her from the game could bring Monika happiness, that would have been okay. She would have been fine with being deleted if it meant that the others could be happy and safe. That would have been for the best; she never wanted to be a burden on any of her dear friends.]

...

[ Was it what it had come to? Sayori apologizing for having hurt her feelings? The irony was too much to bear. Sayori had absolutely no reason to apologize. She had done nothing wrong. She should be the last person to apologize. Monika was the one who should be apologizing.

She was the only one at fault here. Her epiphany, her free will, her own sentience-- It had been the one constant all along. Maybe the one comfort she had had. She'd never even thought of questioning whether it had been part of the plan all along. Maybe she wasn't even "sentient." Maybe her very thoughts were the product of her creator trying to simulate her being alive. In that sense, she was no different from them. Unlikely as that all was, this mere thought was devastating.

But she didn't even a right to be devastated when Sayori was the one truly suffering. She should be comforting her, she should be putting her selfish thoughts aside. She tried so hard to think of something to say, but nothing came. There was nothing for her to reply. All she'd done so far was to make Sayori feel even more miserable. Every words she had spoken had made Sayori feel worse. Even the absence of words made her feel worse.

Mere moments ago, she'd told Sayori that simply by existing she would take everything from her. But she now realized it was... The other way around. Simply by existing, Monika would make her miserable. The horrible things she had done could never be erased. It would be there forever.

Monika slowly stood up, shaking her head and looking down. ]

I-I'm sorry...

[ These words were followed by the sound of Monika running away. It was cowardly, leaving like that. Abandoning Sayori after her words had hurt her so much. Behavior befitting of the monster she was, to be sure. But she didn't have the strength to say anything else. Everything she said would hurt Sayori. Everything she didn't say would also hurt Sayori. She couldn't comfort her. She couldn't help her. If she stayed, Sayori would see her breaking down into a sobbing mess and would feel even more guilty.

Disappearing from her sight was the only option. It hurt too much, she couldn't be the responsible and level-headed person she was meant to be. Perhaps with time... Perhaps she'd see more clearly and find a way to help her. But not today. Not when she herself felt as though she could explode any moment. ]

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

OPEN ♥ first poem! early february

Rose Garden Park

CW: mention of suicide

103 Loomis Drive

no subject

no subject

Dine-In

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

cw: suicide, mental issues, torture

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

cw: suicide, unreality

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

feb 1st

no subject

no subject

cw: traumatic flashback, suicidal ideation

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject