[You open the closet and the entire room changes. What was neat and orderly a moment ago now looks like a tornado has passed through. All the furniture is now in disarray, strewn all around. A layer of debris and filth is spread over the floor, and messages are scrawled angrily on the walls:
Why was I born?
Why didn’t they love me?
What did I do wrong?
If you look closely, you can see the writing instruments that were used to write the messages not far from where they’re written.
Additionally, you can now see a variety of objects in the closet. There’s a small model of a birthday cake, a doll, some strange kind of gun, a throw pillow that has the word “family" embroidered onto it, a small potion bottle, and… a razor?
You think you can glimpse something else at the back of the closet, but something tells you that these items are important. Perhaps you should look through them?]
[The candles on the model of the cake flicker, very much alive and active. As soon as you touch the model, you receive a memory. As the memory progresses, you keep waiting for the other shoe to drop… But when it does, that doesn’t stop it from hurting. You’re so ashamed and embarrassed and angry that it’s hard to speak.
The pillow is perfectly embroidered; regardless, when you pick it up, you feel a surge of anger before being treated to a memory. It’s filled with anger and sadness - you feel betrayed and abandoned. She told you she would be your family, and then she left for months. How can you trust her again after this?
As you pick up the razor, you see that it’s slick - because it’s covered in blood. Touching it gives you a memory.]
[ she's still reeling a little from that memory about Natalie's brother, as well as the anger and abandonment of the second one as she releases both the pillow and cake, when the sound of sniffling behind her attracts her attention-- ]
... I think we probably shouldn't touch any more of these. Natalie doesn't like to talk about her home life much... and she hates memory sharing even more.
[Upon inspection, the gun looks like Kaito’s card gun, if you’ve ever had the chance to see it. As you pick it up, you see a memory, one filled with anger. He cares about someone who murdered your friends, enough that he’s fine with continuing to give him power - at least, that’s what you’re thinking the entire time you’re speaking to him. Caretaker might be his patron, but shouldn’t the fact that he killed people matter more than that?
As you pick up the doll, you may notice that it’s face bears no recognizable features. The clothing it’s wearing, too, is completely blank without anything to distinguish it. You receive a memory that spans years.
As you pick up the bottle, you see that it doesn’t contain any liquid before you experience twomemories, one right after the other. Perhaps more than any other memory, these fill you with a deep, aching rage. He took advantage of the fact that you were weakened, he lied to you, then he had the nerve to act as though it was in your best interest… Just the thought of it makes you want to scream.]
[ what even can she say to this? she's just as cuplable as kaito or any of the other tiamats. because never once, even after learning the truth, did she consider abandoning the caretaker as a patron an option. it's simply not done. but natalie's anger, her betrayal, it's--everything she had imagined it might be, and more. what can you say to that?
quietly, perhaps too quietly for tama to hear: ]
He's our patron, Natalie. He made a terrible mistake, but... he's not a cold-blooded killer. I'm sorry you don't see that yet... but we'll never let him run another game like this.
...
We can't stop injustices from happening in the world. There will always be good people who do good things, and bad people who do evil things--and people that make mistakes in the in-between. We just... can't lose faith, or our desire to live in the world, in spite of that.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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[ though we did. somehow manage to break something... hopefully it was meant to be broken.
LET'S GO SEE what's behind that door. ]
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Why was I born?
Why didn’t they love me?
What did I do wrong?
If you look closely, you can see the writing instruments that were used to write the messages not far from where they’re written.
Additionally, you can now see a variety of objects in the closet. There’s a small model of a birthday cake, a doll, some strange kind of gun, a throw pillow that has the word “family" embroidered onto it, a small potion bottle, and… a razor?
You think you can glimpse something else at the back of the closet, but something tells you that these items are important. Perhaps you should look through them?]
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[Tama looks around the new room, a grimace on his face.]
Jesus, Natalie...
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[ this? god....
...
she tentatively reaches out to touch the model birthday cake and the throw pillow, which seem to be the safest options. ]
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[Tama takes the razor.]
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The pillow is perfectly embroidered; regardless, when you pick it up, you feel a surge of anger before being treated to a memory. It’s filled with anger and sadness - you feel betrayed and abandoned. She told you she would be your family, and then she left for months. How can you trust her again after this?
As you pick up the razor, you see that it’s slick - because it’s covered in blood. Touching it gives you a memory.]
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He doesn't even realize that he's started crying until he sniffs loudly.]
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Tama. You're crying. What happened?
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I'm --
I'm fine. I just. [He wipes his sleeve with his arms.] I just. Need a sec.
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What happened? Which thing did you touch?
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It's.
[He lets out a huff. The tears come to a stop.]
Tough.
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Tama... did somebody get hurt?
[ or worse? ]
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Her mom. Hurt herself.
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She seemed really unwell. I... don't think she knew what was going on half the time.
[ a beat ]
She thought Natalie's brother was still alive.
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Didn't her brother...?
[Die when he was an infant?]
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[ so yeah, probably ]
... I think we probably shouldn't touch any more of these. Natalie doesn't like to talk about her home life much... and she hates memory sharing even more.
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[Tama runs his hand through his hair.]
I think I saw something else at the back of the closet. We should see what it is.
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[ let's investigate the back of the closet ]
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[ the doll, the bottle, and the gun are left over. ]
... You took the razor last time, so... I'll take the gun.
[ she's pretty sure anything like that is bound to be terrible. and she'll move the gun out of the way ]
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As you pick up the doll, you may notice that it’s face bears no recognizable features. The clothing it’s wearing, too, is completely blank without anything to distinguish it. You receive a memory that spans years.
As you pick up the bottle, you see that it doesn’t contain any liquid before you experience two memories, one right after the other. Perhaps more than any other memory, these fill you with a deep, aching rage. He took advantage of the fact that you were weakened, he lied to you, then he had the nerve to act as though it was in your best interest… Just the thought of it makes you want to scream.]
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ha
ha... ]
[ what even can she say to this? she's just as cuplable as kaito or any of the other tiamats. because never once, even after learning the truth, did she consider abandoning the caretaker as a patron an option. it's simply not done. but natalie's anger, her betrayal, it's--everything she had imagined it might be, and more. what can you say to that?
quietly, perhaps too quietly for tama to hear: ]
He's our patron, Natalie. He made a terrible mistake, but... he's not a cold-blooded killer. I'm sorry you don't see that yet... but we'll never let him run another game like this.
...
We can't stop injustices from happening in the world. There will always be good people who do good things, and bad people who do evil things--and people that make mistakes in the in-between. We just... can't lose faith, or our desire to live in the world, in spite of that.
... But I'm sorry. For whatever it's worth.
[ she sets the gun off to the side. ]
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[from behind Tama and Sabre comes another voice-- it's Kaito, who wasn't there just a few minutes ago, was he?]
. . . hey, guys.
[he says quietly as he surveys the items in the closet]
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