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the inner gate
"Let them in, and take them out."
Through ups and downs, the Moira and the crew have survived much together:
During the first wave of arrivals, the ship docks at a planet that has an addictive substance called Exuo — crew went through mood swings, heightened aggression, and fits of paranoia. Natives attempted to kidnap and sacrifice everyone.
A solar storm caused a power blip, and strange masks were found in every mailbox that gave them unusual abilities.
They reached Caducus Primary, a planet largely comprised of glass. The representative of CP accused the crew and captains of theft; however, they didn’t leave fast enough, and a skirmish caused damage to their Ingress, which ended with Caducus Primary cracking and being destroyed.
The power fluctuates and temperatures drop. One of the captains, Tipota, is found dead. This is the introduction of Ploiatos, who ended up being one of the original crew members affected by the power of the Ingress.
The Moira docks at Emiri, which was comprised of three main cities where the culture was influenced heavily by finding one’s soulmate. The company responsible for this, Link’d Inc, is incredibly popular throughout the universe. However, hints of forced unions, kidnapping, and slavery are investigated by the crew after an attack on all of the cities by a rebel group. The planet becomes locked down. Benjamin Link joins the crew and helps them escape.
Another month passes, and crew dock on Ceta. It is known for it’s unusual atmosphere and its living beings AKA sentient flying whales. They were hunted for valuable organic resources, and eventually, the crew decided to hire mercenaries from outlying planets to protect them from further death.
Soon after, the Moira stops at an abandoned prison station called Del Pascia with a resident AI (D-E-L) who was “irritated and snippy” but did not keep crew from exploring and taking items. D-E-L tried to persuade crew to stay, and when it became clear no one wanted to, D-E-L tried to infect them as she had infected those who’d remained behind in the prison. Everyone fought and escaped.
Amissis-Re is an unregistered planet that had no signs of life — the crew’s next stop. Here, they meet a “host” who had done the impossible and “fixed” the Ingress. However, she only reversed the energy of the Ingress, which created melted worlds and made it incredibly dangerous to discern reality from the time inside these worlds. The host gifts some of the crew with journals after she decides to go through the Ingress and remain there.
The Moira begins to malfunction, and those of Caducus Secondary, along with survivors of Caducus Primary, hunt the ship and those inside it for revenge. Negotiations started while crew tried to set up defenses aboard. Due to prior issues, the Ingress shuts off, resulting in the melding of Caducun glass with the ship and everyone aboard. When the Ingress finally stabilizes, the Moira is now in a different universe: the Runoff.
Some members of the crew are found on a slavery outpost in the Runoff, and others make a stealthy rescue effort to bring them back to the Moira. First Mate Egan and Captain Ira appear through the Ingress, explaining that they are the original members of the Moira designated to pilot the ship. The old captains hand over authority to them as the ship drifts into the Luminous Sea.
The ship crashes into one of the moons within the Luminous Sea where crew find a group of natives who are overly friendly. They beckon them to stay with food, drink, and much more. Unbeknownst to those who stay with them, an entire year passes. Eventually, what is wrong with the Moira is patched so they can leave.
After months of hard travel, the crew explore the wonders of the Mini Colony. A closed ceremony held on the MC caused crew to change in ways they’d never experienced before. Yet, during the festivities, someone triggered the “fear machine”, and crew suffered from phobias once back on the ship.
Those working on the Ingress pick up a signature for the Midway Hub and begin to make preparations to go there. The new species Ploiatos has become is named Mirtis (meer-tees); some of the crew kill him before things get too out of control again as they had in the previous months. The Ingress is then turned on, and the ship falls into a time slip.
The Moira crashes on the Midway Hub.
Captain Ira draws a map and encourages crew to split up and travel to the Inner Gate of the Midway Hub. Once inside the Outer Gate, crew experience de-powering — a safety protocol of those who’d worked on the Hub. Exploration and survival are a key focus during this time. They move through a network of caves to find the entrance to the Inner Gate.
After a brief respite, crew learn that the entrances to Gate A and Gate B are inside one of the caves. Groups are split, TABS are synced, and crew explore carefully until an entrance is found. Crew discover Gate A first, and all crew are contacted to gather there. The captains remain at the cave entrance until all crew are accounted for, and then, they enter through the gate together.
Finally, after entering through the Inner Gate, the crew head down through a system of tunnels that lead them to an underground - and main - section of the Midway Hub. Initial scans show that there is a catacomb of rooms and hallways that seem to have been patched together hastily and messily, suggesting that the builders added on new areas as they were needed. Anyone who has abilities, and tries to use them now, will realize that they are no longer depowered as they had been for the last several weeks. Crew are allowed to explore and are encouraged to look for any evidence as to why the previous tenants are gone, as well as take any supplies found or find ways to radio out for assistance.
☄ FLOOR ONE - jan. 3rd
Deeper in, the first level of the Hub is littered with thousands of papers and notes regarding things on the Ingress. Some are highly classified while others are of the smallest consequence to anyone reading them. Upon closer inspection, some of the things listed might even make sense to those of the crew slightly familiar with Ingress technology—reports of energy distortion and time slips, effects of the energy on those traveling through it, how to isolate particular parts of the Ingress' energy and use them to transport to other places. Only a portion of these documents are legible; the majority have either been torn into pieces or charred. Smaller rooms can be found here as well, offices and labs that are only large enough to hold five or six people at a time, and within some of them, pieces of machinery and electronics can be found. Most recognizable are the circular-curved mechanisms that belong to an Ingress. Yet, rather than just one, there are hundreds. Some have been left in piles of twisted, melted hunks, and some, those parts still (probably) capable of being used if the occasion presented itself, are thrown about carelessly, tossed under desks and under chairs and even embedded in parts of the walls where they - more than likely - exploded.
Not much else can be found on this level. Unless empty cups and broken computers are justifiable as something.
☄ FLOOR TWO - jan. 4th
Crew who travel even further within the Hub will find that not all things have been deserted. Sort of. What greets anyone who explores here is the visible evidence that some sort of intense struggle happened between those who worked on the Hub and a group of outsiders. Dead bodies cover the floors, in hallways, and inside personal quarters. The one constant in the tableau is that none of them died in any sort of peace, and the visceral knowledge of that is clear by the amount of blood spilled and the putrid smell that comes from it having been sealed off for such a long time. Be careful to tread lightly and step with caution. Also, breathing the air for any more than a few seconds without some sort of filter isn’t advisable. Items worth taking might be in the form of blankets and clothes, but most of it seems to have been taken in a rush.
☄ FLOOR THREE - jan. 5th
And even further within the Hub, below the offices and labs and unfortunate death, a power source can be found. From obvious signs, it is clear that someone had lived here recently, and anyone who looks through some of the things left behind will find a list of recordings readily available to them. They are as follows:
audio log 1
audio log 2
audio log 3
audio log 4
audio log 5
☄ FLOOR FOUR - jan. 6th to the 24th
Inside the Ingress Channel, a group of fifteen have taken up a defensive position, standing in a small circle towards the back. When approached, they’ll tell crew to stay where they are; they want to talk to them but with lots of space between. There doesn’t appear to be a leader of this diverse group, but one person comes forward and asks who they are and what they were doing on the Moira as they had seen it crash. With this new group being unwilling to divulge any information, the conversation is slow to reveal anything important or useful.
Through patience and diplomatic efforts by the crew, the following is eventually discovered: these people call themselves Savrii and aren’t native to the Midway Hub. The Savrii aren’t hostile, though they are skittish at first. Their people were sent through the Ingress to destroy all the documented research on Ingress technology and energy that could be found here, taking out anyone who tried to stop them. Their mission was critical, meant to protect the universe from those tampering with such an unstable, natural force. During the incursion, the Ingress machines on the Hub were damaged, and they are what’s left of the group of Savrii that didn’t make it back through before the machine shut down. They’ve seen footage and schematics of the Moira and would have destroyed it, too, if it had landed instead of crashing. The Moirans did the job for them.
Their people don’t believe in fighting or chaos, unless the Ingress energy is being manipulated in any way. The ship was the first of its kind, created by severing some of the energy from the whole. This upset an already delicate balance and caused issues with Ingresses all across the universes. The Savrii liken it to taking a child away from its mother. When the crew explain that they were only passengers, the Savrii believe them. They lower their weapons and open the floor to peaceful discussion. From this point, crew learn that the Savrii have been surviving here as they try to fix one of the Ingress machines, which they are close to but are lacking one of the key elements. Science technicians from the Moira, who have studied the Ingress will realize that after sorting through the wreckage the part they need survived the crash, and with help, the crew are able to assist in replacing the broken element.
When the Ingress is rebooted, they send one of their group through, who returns a moment later with good news. The damage on this side didn’t affect the Ingress Complex on the other, a place where the Ingress Energy was first discovered and built around. They tell of their home, with the largest and first Ingress machine, that is a mecca of travel and culture. It might not be the crew's original homes, but the Ingress there is functioning, and they can use it.
The Savrii can go home. The Moirans are allowed to come with them.
Step through the Ingress and
welcome to thisavrou
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hohnkai) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thisavrou_log2017-01-03 09:25 pm
no subject
He'd told Asriel as much, so if it just so happens that his hand slips one day...then whoops! He doesn't care.
"I know this might be difficult to grasp, so I'll make sure to use small words for you, honey. You both look similar. And for a reason I just don't get, they are attached to you. So I figured I'd ask just in case."
Every single word out of his mouth is dripping in icy scorn. But he's made the goal up, might as well see it through.
"If you don't know, then just say so."
no subject
What a sad state of affairs. He presumes to play a game, but the Game has changed. They do not engage with NPCs, nor do they care for what commentary they may despise. Plot Devices are simply that - Devices. Tools.
You're quite mouthy, little tool.
"It's rude to make assumptions," says Chara. "I'm sure you've heard what they say about what happens when you assume."
no subject
"Oh, have I hurt your feelings, then? What a shame."
He sounds so torn up. Really! Don't you believe him?
"Forgive me another assumption in thinking that you're yet again wasting my time. I'll take my leave--"
...Or so he would love to say, anyway. Except that there's a niggling in the back of his mind that tells him before he jumps ship from Hellbeast's Shitty Ride, that he ought to make good on what he'd wanted to do for a while now.
Which surprisingly, doesn't involve stomping on their head. He swears.
"--after you give me just a bit more of your time. Certainly you're up to that level of challenge."
Smartass.
no subject
Either way, he seems wholly uninterested in pursuing conversation, a fact which suits Chara quite well; they are equally disinterested in engaging further than is necessary. And here they had been wondering when he would come running back with a finger upraised in self-righteous outrage, ready and willing to make his claims of yet another thing he must understand far better and clearer than they.
"And would you be terribly likely to listen, should I refuse?" Chara tilts their head, just a fraction, their smile less of a challenge than it is one of knowing. He has not given them a choice in the matter, even if he has presented the illusion of one. A typical tactic of those older than them.
no subject
Surprisingly, Mettaton concedes. Not because he intends to leave without saying his part--in that, the child had caught him with his hands red--but because he's curious as to what they'd do if he had given them a choice in the matter, like he seems to be doing now.
Maybe it would go over well if he wasn't patronizing...for, you know. Half a minute, right?
no subject
He is something of a peacock, or a pretty sparkler - flashy, and full of a pomp that cannot atone for a lack of substance.
Chara straightens, hands folded neatly behind their back. They look much nicer now that the flowers have fallen away, don't you think?
"You are a miserable liar," they announce flatly, "and I believe I have my opinions regarding hypocrites quite clear."
no subject
"Fair enough." Not really, it isn't. But again. He's trying to avoid escalating. "I had intended to message you instead of speak to you face to face, but seeing as we've crossed paths, I wanted to ask you something.
Despite your apparent distaste for "hypocrites," is there any chance of us reaching some sort of...middle ground? I know you do not care for me, and nor do I care for you. Even less do you seem to care for my 'hypocritical' opinions on family, and I concede this point for now.
It's just that I'm not interested in placing too much strain on Asriel by being at ends with you entirely. Not if I can help it."
For all that he fluffed his words up, what he wants is actually pretty clear.
A truce. Not that he expects Chara to go for it, but a token effort was the best he could offer.
cw for allusions to child abuse
Done his research, has he? Or perhaps he simply possesses the same talents that all adults do - that of learning in what ways a child may be ground beneath the heel, and how to best to exert one's influence over them. Behave, Chara. Behave for the adults. It does no good to threaten them, everyone has just learned that so quickly, have they not? It does no good at all, to threaten someone who knows and anticipates the strike, the windback of a fist or a leather strap. No, that will not do at all.
It works better, far better, to strike at the heart of matters instead.
And he knows their heart, it seems. He knows who Asriel he is - whether he learned it through the crown prince of the Underground himself or through other means is utterly inconsequential.
Chara's smile - widens. Inexorably, it widens.
"You are no better at extorting than you are at lying," says Chara. "But congratulations, Mettaton."
Their smile is a glued-on, pink-cheeked crescent, sweeter than arsenic.
"No one else has gone from indifference to disgust in so short a time."
You've broken a record, Mettaton. Be proud.
no subject
Ah...well that's not entirely true. His bit of self-interest is remaining friends with Asriel. However, it's only the secondary priority in all of this. Funny how people can change, isn't it Chara? Oh, right. They don't believe in that, do they?
"If I wanted to extort, then I assure you; I can most certainly extort," he says coldly. "But I'm not. I'm tired of arguing and trying to please everyone, including myself, and managing to succeed in none of that. If I can't make myself happy, then at least I tried to make someone else happy.
And for the record, your opinion on me is worth less to nothing at this point. So if you intend to guilt me, then you haven't succeeded. Not this time."
Mettaton can't bring himself to be angry at the outcome. He saw it coming. Chara had too big a chip on their shoulder, that's all.
"Thank you for your time."
He had something much more caustic to say, but he is TRYING to keep it civil.
no subject
Anger is a funny thing. It has accompanied them for years, for the long and interminable stretches of time in which they slept in the soil, far from peaceful, and yet - its displays are in the pull of their lips into a bright smile, the cold and unyielding spark to their crimson gaze.
Their smile is ruthless, and once again - they are not done with you yet, Mettaton. A step forward, then, to punctuate their point.
"Does Asriel know that his well-being is little more than a token to be bartered?" says Chara, their tone falsely conversational. "And yet you claim to place value on your - friendship with him."
They're not fond of repeating themself, Mettaton, so you will have to come to your own conclusions. But they have made their opinion regarding hypocrites quite clear.
no subject
"See, here's the thing, sweetie. I talked to Asriel. Like a normal person would, maybe that's something you aren't used to anymore," he said, and this time he couldn't keep the venom out of his tone. "I told him that I was having a problem with you, and I also told him that if it would make him feel better, I could try to give you another chance despite all of the nasty little things that dribble past your lips. Because here's a surprise--he doesn't like the idea of me avoiding him just because you and I don't get along. That would hurt his feelings more, and I have the presence of mind to realize that.
So you see, I'm not using him to bargain. I'm working with him to try and settle because I care about him and he cares about you. You know, actual friendship? The give-and-take thing? If anyone is a bargaining chip here, it's you. Sorry you didn't get it right, darling. It happens."
no subject
So how long, Mettaton, until the inconvenience of being Asriel's friend overtakes your alleged affection for him? How long until every avenue is destroyed, every pathway burned to ash, the ashes buried beneath a statue that chimes so long as it is not getting wet?
"I have seen what you do to the things you claim you care about." There is a yellow brightness wrapped about their SOUL, or what remains of it, to match the gleaming red. "Alphys. Your dear, sweet cousin. They are to be used up and discarded when you are done with them; when the cost surpasses the benefit."
And when he does attempt to mend those bridges? It is always, always too little, far too late. Alphys disappears, and she does something cowardly. And Mettaton can consume himself in his grief and regret all he likes.
Grief and regret does nothing to bring anyone back.
They have learned that lesson all too well.
no subject
He wouldn't let those words hurt! Not when he had been working so hard to try and make amends. Maybe it didn't come immediately to fruition, and maybe he was wasting his time. But better to waste it than to give up.
"I know what I did. I know, alright? I understand that I was not...the best to Alphys. Or to Blooky. Definitely not to Asriel. I realize that I have made mistakes..."
And most of all, he realizes that everything that Chara is saying is true, save for one thing.
"But what I also know is that it is never too late to put in the effort if someone is still there to talk to. There is nothing wrong with making a mistake and apologizing!!"
He says it vehemently, trying to ignore the shade of yellow outlining their SOUL. Alphys...he had never gotten the chance to express to her how sorry he was while she was here, and that hurt immensely. It almost overshadowed the fact that he'd been making amends back home already, before he came through the Ingress. Why, he'd even been doing some shopping for her--how could he ever trust her to eat anything but instant noodles and junk food?
That wasn't done out of a desire to throw their friendship away. It was...good. He had to be good, somewhere inside.
He had to believe that, because if he didn't, then why would Asriel want him as a friend now? Over and over, they'd had the discussion.
"If I gave up trying, I'd turn into a sad, pitiful monster with no regrets and all the regrets, hiding behind a wall of lights and sequins and telling myself I was doing everything right even if I knew that wasn't true." Oh, he remembers what he saw. He remembers how high his EXP climbed then, culling the miscreants who didn't submit to their king. Mettaton doesn't need Chara to guilt him there. "I don't want that for myself, so no matter what you say, I will continue doing what I do, and remembering all the mistakes--not to agonize! But to fix it!"
1/??
End scene.
The longer he goes on, the more obvious it becomes that he continues to do things, say such things, for his own benefit. He convinces no one else but himself. There is nothing wrong with making a mistake, he says, and then apologizing, he says. There is nothing wrong with making a simple little error, is there? Of course not! Errors can be corrected. Errors can be corrected. Errors can be ERASED.
For all his flaws, they would never have thought naivete to be among them. And yet - what a blissfully optimistic stance for one such as him to take. Burdened by his guilt, weighed with a flare of justice that strikes true, and still he insists - can people not change? Can people not fix their errors? Can people not apologize, and move on?
What a dreadful, familiar tune.
It, uh, doesn't have to be that way.
Does it?
no subject
"Nothing wrong with making a mistake," Chara says, pulling out the words venomously. "In that case, sir, perhaps I should explain, provided you are so set on this belief."
A slight twist of their wrist, an adjustment of the blade at the side, and the Real Knife catches the light, glinting a scarlet to match their eyes.
"What shall I say? I just tripped and fell onto monster after monster, reducing them to dust? I mistakenly ate a flower, tore apart the kingdom, rent it asunder, and facilitated the death of the crown prince of the Underground - and everyone's hopes and dreams on top of it?"
There is nothing wrong with making a mistake.
Is there.
no subject
That's a joke, Mettaton. Get it?
Because we're all just adrift, directionless, sliding about in anti-gravity. Or perhaps we were simply there always, and simply came to our senses.
Our senses. Another joke.
"There is nothing wrong with making mistakes and then - fixing them."
no subject
We take the timeline we've torn beyond the recognition of it. We take every miserable life and grind it away. We turn the blade upon ourselves. We cut, deep - deeper.
Always deeper.
The world turns on. A child eats a flower and tears apart a kingdom. Another child falls, and then another. Count the SOULs, the only vital parts worth mentioning, nameless but for their tools and their virtues that may as well be their labels, drained of all other defining traits. All else is to be discarded, left at the wayside - dusty artifacts of those who traversed the same pathways and then failed, inevitably. Who gave up, or perhaps were simply not the anomaly that could have altered the course of fate. Who lacked the resolve, the will to do so.
* Determination.
no subject
God - but they hope so.
"Seeing as you are quite the expert on the subject," Chara continues. "Tell me. How might I fix those mistakes of mine? How might I salvage the world I callously broke, irreversibly? A simple apology, do you think? Will that suffice? Or shall I take it a step further - a peck on the cheek and a bouquet of flowers?"
The irony there appeals to them.
"Or perhaps that would be in poor taste."
no subject
How do you atone for an existence formed into a spear - defined solely by those you have hurt?
Tell me.
TELL ME.
and done
In the face of -
Oh. Perhaps that is simply too far removed a joke to make. Ah, well. They found it charming, in its own right. But we can't have everything.
"If you insist that we can atone for our sins," says Chara, with the clear and projected disbelief in such a philosophy, particularly coming from him, evident in the arch of an eyebrow, "then tell me this."
Riddle me this, Mettaton, if you can.
"What gives you the right to judge you for mine?"
1/?
Those threads feel tangible as they snake around him, and he can't be flippant about it anymore.
Because they are talking about murder, and judgment, and who should be judging who.
But most of all, they're talking about the endless expanse of timelines to which Mettaton had become privy so recently that it still stung like a poisoned blade directly through his SOUL. Why did they have to make it sound so awful? Why did they need to make it so terrible, to where he couldn't even figure out why he wanted to forgive Frisk, if he couldn't bother caring whether to forgive Chara.
What answer did they want from him? What did they want from him?! Even if he gave them a truthful answer, Chara would find a way to twist it, tie it 'round his neck and tighten it like a noose and hang him over the expanse of knowledge he had never wanted, but couldn't look away from.
no subject
He'd said that he wouldn't let them get to him, but that had been a lie. The more deeply they delved into the conversation, the less Mettaton could play pretend like he did with almost everything else in his life.
His eye affixes to their knife. Their shining weapon and its strange circular patterns. What a weird knife. Perfect for a weird little kid.
"Chara, I don't like you. I may never like you. But there are so few of us here, do you truly believe it worth our time to be on opposite ends of the board? I'm not an expert in anything, least of all any of your experiences..."
He glances down, his fingers tightening around his own neck. What was it about anymore, was it to ground himself? That's why he did this, to remind himself he wasn't on the Outpost, and to remind himself that he'll never, ever be forced to kill, kill, and kill again, even when it's someone he cares about.
For a moment, he considers using that as a point of understanding.
and finished
That's...true. He has to keep that in mind as he looks back up.
"However, it is because I cannot judge you that I choose to extend my sympathy, much as I'd rather not. I can say I'm doing this for Asriel all I want, and I am. I know you will not believe me, but I am because I want to have a friend who I do not ruin my experiences with. I won't forget Alphys, or Blooky, and what I did to them. That's why I am trying not to make the same mistake.
It's not just for them though. Any of them.
I'm also doing it because I wan to try and understand. So really...you are the one who is judging me. Not the other way around."
They are the hypocrite.
no subject
Burn the pages. Seal the book. Slam the blade down, through and through, cleaving through every feeble word of protest. Does he presume that he is the first to try this trick on them? That he is the first to lure them in with words and promises, the first adult to extend a hand? They always start off like this. They start with smiles, with insistences that they'll do better, really, they will, and if you LOVE them, you'll let them try again.
If you love them, you'll let them try again.
If you love them, you'll accept the way it stings, across the back of your knees or along the edges of your scalp, against the shoulder blades and around your throat, black spots and purple ones too, a veritable rainbow of them.
They know how it works by now. They know what it really means. It's different when you do it, Chara. You're the anomaly, the one who just won't sit still and behave. An adult's punishment is a child's cruelty, judgment solely to be executed upon them, never by them. It's perfectly well and reasonable for a grown-up to treat you the way you deserve.
An object. A humble servant. A fixture.
What else is new?
"Perhaps I am simply cutting to the chase." Their eyes flatten, as though they have grown disinterested with the conversation. "You honestly think you are the first to pull this stunt with me?"
Gosh, maybe the humans are the REAL monsters here. Maybe Chara is the REAL hypocrite! Makes you think, doesn't it? Both sides are just really, really hurting, aren't they?
"Your sympathy is far from sympathetic." He is, as they have said before - a miserable liar. "I very much doubt it can be enunciated as such, when you are simply seeking to use it as leverage. A friendship of convenience hardly counts as such, does it?"
Or perhaps they're simply making another mistake. Is it time to turn this one into a learning experience, or are they meant to give it a few days to marinate before they take it out again, turning it over and over in their hands in their search for a new perspective?
no subject
Call it what you will. The truth is, I've many other things to worry about than picking a fight with you."
Chara could think he was a liar all they wanted, but the tone of Mettaton's voice was tired. Downright exhausted. He's felt so heavy for months, and this whole back-and-forth, as well as their first one, was just...additional strain. He didn't want it. He wanted peace.
"I don't want leverage. I don't want to control either you or anyone else. I just want to live the rest of my life in this hell out as easily as I can."
He doesn't have aspirations here. His only aspiration is to exist. No shows. No stagelights, no fans.
He just wants to live day to day, avoid killing anymore people and learn how to feel more than anger, fear, and anxiety. All of which lead to him questioning who he is.
That's his problem though. His burden. He would never tell Chara. For what? Extra fuel against him? God help him if they ever found out about the Caducans, the slavery, Papyrus...and the killings. Even he has limits.
Drawing a long, tired breath, he glances at Chara with that same tired look in his eye.
"If you don't want to be friends, let's at least be civil with each other. I know I need to work on that too, and for that I apologize. Just think it over, I implore you."
And with that, he turns away, intending to make his way through the ichor comprising the ground and find the way to the next floor. He's sure Chara's response will be as scathing as it ever was. That was just how they were.
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