yES HELLO: ruth, 2

[sorrypardonyesthankyou]

WHO: ruth aldine + YOU
WHAT: talking about BOLD PLANS for the FUTURE
WHERE: the ruins, specifically near the river
WHEN: june 30th onwards
NOTES: this is step one of the player quest happening on july 5! please zoom over there if you have questions, want to make plans, &cet. NB: potential for discussions of suicide, state-sponsored murder, etc. more specific notes tbd.

[The warm hiss of white noise is just part of being in the ruins--but at some point, when it's getting a little darker, a voice comes through.]

Yes. Pardon. This is Ruth.

[You know, if the stuttery little words at the start didn't clue you in.]

We had thank you an idea--see if we can reason yes, reason with this place. That... [A crackle of static.] Sorry. You saw the empty spot, didn't you? Sorry. Yes. I think...I think it's something.

But going...yes. I'm, uh. I'm not gonna pardon, won't be in my body. And after all the other stuff yes, pardon I tried to do here...it might not agree with me. Sorry. Might need people to keep an eye out. No.

Sorry. No. So if anyone's interested...

[And, you know. If they understood any of this.]

Comments

[omniavincit]

[ He listens—as much to the fluctuations in tone as to her words. Intent on her. It's as though the reception's improved between them—it takes an embarrassingly long time to for him to figure out all the grace words, the verbal speed bumps, have disappeared. To realize she hasn't apologized for any of it. ]

Once we know more. [ William's arrived suddenly at calm, his voice soft and steady. ] Once we know...what to communicate. [ His head tips to the side. ] What can't you do?

[sorrypardonyesthankyou]

See. [After a moment, she remembers that might not be clear enough.] Yes. The future.

...We could learn more sorry from this. Thank you. Figure out what to say.

[omniavincit]

[ He kind of hates that idea—that there's the future, waiting, that seeing it's like skipping ahead in a movie. It's wrong. He should know: he's personally fucked up time, let a moment of sentiment, of sympathy, cascade into another war.

Maybe that's not what she's saying. Maybe there's another way of looking at it. He doesn't think she's lying—it's her judgment he wonders about.

Even so. It would explain—everything, to her, would be a plunge into an abyss. What's once more?

Reluctantly, almost regretfully, as though the words have been dragged out of him: ] Not if you die.

[sorrypardonyesthankyou]

No. No. Probably not.

[Stranger things have happened. The very fact that Logan's here...]

But pardon. Doesn't mean I will.

[omniavincit]

[ What is there to say to that? Something snide, a noncommittal thanks. Tell her that whoever she thinks she's doing this for, it's not him.

But there's a real possibility this'll be the last time they speak. ] I hate this. [ It's not angry. It's small, as though he's talking to himself. Maybe he might as well be. ] For the record.

Good luck.

[sorrypardonyesthankyou]

I'm sorry.

[Matching the soft disappointment of his words, quiet and genuine.

Doing these things is easier when you know how each thread of your plans will weave together. When everything feels like a question and the outcomes aren't assured--when other people have the time and knowledge to ask the questions you aren't interested in answering--it's...it's something different. Ruth can't help but think of David, her stomach tightening.]

Yes. Thank you.