[Souji can't reach, but he tries anyway - makes a fumbling attempt with his failing body. He doesn't allow himself to cry in front of others, but tears well in his eyes now, spilling down his cheeks and streaking through the blood on his face.]
Please... don't leave us-- behind...
[As if Sieghart is the one who's going far away. As if Sieghart isn't the only thing left of the many years he's passed through, the many people whose lives his has intersected with.
As if Sieghart doesn't leave everyone first, already, when they need him the most.]
[His bandaged hand twitches at his side. As Souji cries and struggles to speak, Sieghart wonders in his mind if he should just kill him. Is that what it'll take to advance this scenario—the death of all present in the dining room?
He promised himself to look after this lonely child while they're together. This illusion below him isn't really Souji, but an instrument designed by this place to strike where it hurts.
It does hurt, in a way. In his heart, Sieghart wishes to be blamed for his failings. No matter how painful, being shunned for his mistakes would simply be what he deserves. That's because, when drowning in guilt, nothing is more excruciating than the tenderness of a kind soul, which then breeds overwhelming shame. It's easier to be despised than to be reminded of what good was ruined by one's hands.
But that's just what the selfish part of him wants.
Now that the initial wave of old feelings has passed, Sieghart is left with rising anger. His fingers curl into his palm, forming a tight fist in spite of the pain it sends shooting up his arm. As if Souji would ever blame anyone but himself in a situation like this. How can an excursion formed from that child's own memories portray him so wrongly?]
[It's the only sound in this quiet mansion now - that gross, wet crying. But as Sieghart remains there, he'll realize that it isn't just Flayn's sightless eyes that have fallen upon him. Rather, every single person felled in this room now looks his way, even if that means their heads have bent and snapped at unnatural angles. He's the sole performer on a stage without a spotlight, the audience rapt in their attention.
Souji himself seems to be degenerating in a strange way, too. He cries and grows thin, emaciated, sickly and unwell, near-blue skin and deep circles, and he begs and begs for Sieghart to stay.
Sieghart could kill him, if he wanted to. He could perhaps simply leave back through the door he'd come from, just the same. It's not like anyone is here to stop him.]
[Crying is such a gutting sound . . . when it's real.
Ignoring the dead gazes on him, Sieghart watches Souji with a cold mien. The transformation of his appearance couldn't have come out of nowhere, so it must be the extent of the toll his illness took on him over time. It's a heart-wrenching look. But the disingenuous nature of the scene annoys him more than anything.
Another moment passes. Souji's pleas ultimately fall on deaf ears when Sieghart turns around and goes back the way he came.]
[Souji only cries harder as he turns to leave; great, heaving sobs that seem much bigger than his body should allow.]
You said you wouldn't look away—!
[One last thing, clear as a bell in spite of his ragged breaths. He's the only one not watching, though. The other corpses do. The gallery of the dead see him off, silent and still, their eyes fixed on Sieghart's retreating back until he's left the dining room and tracked their blood back out through the parlor, back through the front door--
And back to the door that he'd first entered through. He's outside again, right by the medic tent. The eyes of the corpse on the cot still look his way, and Dio is still working at the table. The sun seems much brighter for some reason, though - midday levels of brightness. It will burn Sieghart's eyes for a brief moment and leave his ears ringing.]
[As much as he loves creation and the life in it, Sieghart has no love for deceptions. He leaves the false mansion behind, and from there limps past the staring corpse, eyes narrowed against the sudden brightness, to head for the cart—though not before he utters some parting words for Dio where he stands.]
I'm back. Before I head out, I'll tell you that they know about you.
[Dio's posture tenses at that, and Sieghart will hear a little, muttered curse - though he'll get the sense that there's some gratitude beneath the nerves.
Before he gets too far, though, it seems like there's a commotion happening in the middle of the enclosure...]
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no subject
Please... don't leave us-- behind...
[As if Sieghart is the one who's going far away. As if Sieghart isn't the only thing left of the many years he's passed through, the many people whose lives his has intersected with.
As if Sieghart doesn't leave everyone first, already, when they need him the most.]
no subject
He promised himself to look after this lonely child while they're together. This illusion below him isn't really Souji, but an instrument designed by this place to strike where it hurts.
It does hurt, in a way. In his heart, Sieghart wishes to be blamed for his failings. No matter how painful, being shunned for his mistakes would simply be what he deserves. That's because, when drowning in guilt, nothing is more excruciating than the tenderness of a kind soul, which then breeds overwhelming shame. It's easier to be despised than to be reminded of what good was ruined by one's hands.
But that's just what the selfish part of him wants.
Now that the initial wave of old feelings has passed, Sieghart is left with rising anger. His fingers curl into his palm, forming a tight fist in spite of the pain it sends shooting up his arm. As if Souji would ever blame anyone but himself in a situation like this. How can an excursion formed from that child's own memories portray him so wrongly?]
no subject
Souji himself seems to be degenerating in a strange way, too. He cries and grows thin, emaciated, sickly and unwell, near-blue skin and deep circles, and he begs and begs for Sieghart to stay.
Sieghart could kill him, if he wanted to. He could perhaps simply leave back through the door he'd come from, just the same. It's not like anyone is here to stop him.]
no subject
Ignoring the dead gazes on him, Sieghart watches Souji with a cold mien. The transformation of his appearance couldn't have come out of nowhere, so it must be the extent of the toll his illness took on him over time. It's a heart-wrenching look. But the disingenuous nature of the scene annoys him more than anything.
Another moment passes. Souji's pleas ultimately fall on deaf ears when Sieghart turns around and goes back the way he came.]
no subject
You said you wouldn't look away—!
[One last thing, clear as a bell in spite of his ragged breaths. He's the only one not watching, though. The other corpses do. The gallery of the dead see him off, silent and still, their eyes fixed on Sieghart's retreating back until he's left the dining room and tracked their blood back out through the parlor, back through the front door--
And back to the door that he'd first entered through. He's outside again, right by the medic tent. The eyes of the corpse on the cot still look his way, and Dio is still working at the table. The sun seems much brighter for some reason, though - midday levels of brightness. It will burn Sieghart's eyes for a brief moment and leave his ears ringing.]
no subject
I'm back. Before I head out, I'll tell you that they know about you.
no subject
Before he gets too far, though, it seems like there's a commotion happening in the middle of the enclosure...]