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You
Think you’re safe.
And the Universe’s first lesson is: you never are.
You don’t manage to forget. It hates you for that.
Once upon a time. You forgot that the Universe was cruel. The Universe made you forget. Forget, forget, and forget, until you barely knew what you were following. Until you barely knew the Universe, just as it wanted. Until you didn’t know yourself.
You forgot the Universe was cruel, but it sees fit to remind you.
You
Forgot, also, that you were cruel. Disgusting. Repulsive. Not worth the wish you made. You forgot you were empty, a hollow pantomime of a person. A mask, an actor (director, destined to return to seafoam, bathtub mermaid with the world drowned around you), with nothing underneath. (Nothing without your beloved actors, party, friends, family—whatever you were calling them that loop. You were nothing. How did you forget?)
Or maybe, you never knew until then.
Or maybe you always did.
And that’s why you asked the Universe, and not them.
Because they wouldn’t give you what you deserved (torment), nor what you wanted (them), but the Universe would give you both, in the worst, best way.
It was cruel, remember?
You forgot a lot. And you keep forgetting.
But you don’t forget, not really, how in that very first loop, you felt safe.
And you were punished for it.
Feeling safe wasn’t your first mistake, though. Wanting was. Wishing was.
(Forgetting that you don’t deserve either.)
Shouldn’t you know better by now?
But you never learn, because you forget!
You forget the lesson!
Over, and over, and over again!
Remembering is just as much as a curse as forgetting, though. Isn’t it?
Or maybe living is.
Or maybe dying is.
Over and over and over until the word death loses it’s meaning.
Until even death is boring.
Until everything is.
You feel empty. You feel hungry. You feel nauseous. You dream of eating your family whole, so many times it loses meaning, too. Everything loses meaning. Even your family! Even you! Even the dream, over and over and over again! Even this (beloved, hated) play you’re stuck in! Everything, everything, everything! Nothing matters anymore, an eternal paradise, an eternal hell! Was it what you wished for? Was it all you wanted? Them to stay? You could do this forever! Forever, forever! Your favorite play, right? Right? Where your beloved actors play-act a family with you, pretending you could ever deserve their love. (Deserve anything.)
You’ve trapped this country far more than the King ever has. You hate them for it!
And the King. And you.
And those blasted Tears, too! You used to like them, when they gave you pleasant dreams. For a while, it was the only way you could rest. Now only dying is! You can’t sleep anymore, after all~! Haven’t been able to since loop 20! Which was so very long ago now.
You should die more often, you think. Maybe one of these days, you will blessedly stay dead!!! Maybe one of these days, it will finally, finally, FINALLY STICK!!!!
And you’ll finally rest without eating your family members whole.
Are you scared? You must be, but you don’t feel it. You used to be, you think! Terrified of the dream. (Of death, too, but even fear gets boring. Were you grateful that first time you woke up in that field? Glad you didn't stay dead~? Ha! What a joke. You don’t remember anyway.) So are you scared?
To be devoured is to be loved, certainly. You want to devour them. You want them to devour you. You are empty! Empty! Empty! Won’t they fill you up? Won’t anything? Haha! You want them so close to you, you want them to never leave, you want to trap them (haven’t you already?), you want to just eat them up!
Are you scared? You feel you may vomit. Ungrateful. Bonbon worked hard on the food! It just tastes like ash. You’ve stopped tasting the food a long time ago; everything just tastes like ash and sugar. You think they’d all taste better. Won’t iron cut through this awful sweetness in your throat?
You don’t want to hurt them, you just want to swallow them whole.
You are disgusting.
You can’t take the dreams anymore, so you force Loop to let you use your dagger.
They beg you not to. Plead with you, really. Heartbreak in their eyes. You do it in front of them and laugh.
Cute. You want to eat them whole, too.
“You think you’re funny,” they hiss at you.
You do!
You do!
You do!
The Universe’s best punchline.
But even that joke gets boring.
And so does the dagger.
What a shame.
It was fun while it lasted, hm? For a given measure of fun.
(But nothing about this was fun, was it?
And that wasn’t funny.)
Isa makes a time travel joke.
“Why shouldn't you take up time travel?” He asks you, after his other two puns haven't made a dent in you (you laughed the first time you heard them, but you keep forgetting to laugh again), and you can already feel hysteria creep up on you with just the premise of the joke, your lips curling into a smile.
“I don't know, Isa,” you lie, “Why?”
“Easy,” he looks very proud of himself, “Because there's no future in it!!!”
You laugh so hard you cry. It might be the funniest thing you have ever heard. Isa looks very concerned, but it's so hilarious you don't even care. He is so, so, so right.
There is no future in this.
You make sure not to laugh like a deranged lunatic next time, and instead only laugh a normal person amount.
You forget.
“Was there nothing worth remembering?” She asks you.
You hate her for it! She doesn’t understand. She threw away her home, but it was stolen from you. It’s easy for her to say it doesn’t matter, when she can still remember the dirt that formed her. But you don’t have that! You have nothing, not even memories, not even a name. (Siffrin, after all, is not your name. You stole it, fittingly, from a play. You can’t remember if it was a tragedy or comedy anymore. You can’t remember anything, haha! You do not even remember your name. Can’t she see the grief in that? In you?) There was so much worth remembering. So much, so much, so much!
But you forgot it anyway. Because that is what you do: forget.
Haha! Why, a few loops ago, you even forgot her name.
Must have not been worth remembering, by her logic.
You hate her, you hate her, you hate her!
And you love her even more than that.
“Something like that, Odile,” you make sure to smile! And not scream. And call her by her name, and not ‘Researcher’, because this time you remember it! Haha. (Loop always reminds you of their names when you forget them. What a dear. So helpful~.) Most importantly, you make sure not to rip her throat out with your teeth, so she can never speak those lines again. You are sick of those lines! You make sure to smile. You have such good self restraint! So you don’t even stab yourself like you want to~ you only smile.
You are a liar, after all. So you must smile!
You are being punished, aren’t you?
For wanting. For wishing. For thinking for a moment you deserve anything, forgetting you don’t. You wanted this, didn’t you? To be punished. You do it to yourself, really! You do it all to yourself. You know this. The Universe is only giving you what you wanted. It loves you!
Like the Change God loves Mirabelle. Their favorite, they said, when you talked to them. They didn’t even care that she lied. They loved her! They forgave her! They didn’t even care! Because she was their follower, so devoted and pure. Their favorite. Changing for them, trying for them.
But as they said, your Universe will not talk to you.
No matter how you plead and beg.
They laugh at you for it, once they’ve sent Mirabelle away. They hate you, you who have trapped the world in time, without ever meaning to. That’s not Change, is it? It’s stagnation. They use Loops face, Loops voice. You feel sick, to see them puppeted around, your beloved gift, blank eyes, worn wrong. (But you did that to them too, didn’t you? In more ways than one. For your dagger, for your life, for your death, for theirs. Wearing their body wrong. Making them watch you kill it. Not that you knew that at the time. Not that you knew anything.) The Change God hates you, but…
They find you fascinating as well.
Entertaining, they said. Give us a show!
Because while the world outside of you is static—
“You’re not!” They beamed. “You’re Changing right now!”
So, so, so…
“Let me see how you Change!”
Help, you beg with numb lips. Help, help.
They smile at you. Because maybe they love you, too. Or just Change. And you are Changing. They are right about Change, you think, but you don’t want them to be. So is Isa, yes. Just like Isa says, it feels like destruction. It can be destruction. And here you are, destroyed. Destroying. You never wanted to Change, you only ever wanted everything to stay the same. (That’s the problem, isn’t it?)
Please.
They laugh a little. “I’ll give you the KeyKnife every time, I promise,” and you believe them, but— “Isn’t that enough?”
Nothing is ever enough.
This can’t be what you wished for. This can’t be what you ever wanted at all.
You’re being punished.
You hate the stars because you can’t remember them, because every time you whisper and beg and plead to them, no one ever answers. Isn’t this what you wanted? They twinkle brightly at you. Isn’t this what you wished?
Sometimes you think Loop is the only thing that is real at all. The actors can’t be real, and neither can you. All you do is repeat lines.
But Loop is new. Different. Annoying, yes. But despite it all, helpful. An oasis in a desert. Everything, maybe, or just all that’s left (they said the same of you).
Sometimes you think Loop is the only thing real at all.
Your little gift from the Universe, the only good thing it’s ever done for you.
Your gift, your gift, your gift. Just for you!
You can read your despair in their eyes. You can see yourself in them.
Beloved, beloved, beloved Loop.
The Universe is cruel. And it loves you. Like a beast loves to rend flesh. Like it wants to break you in two. (It has.) Like it wants to swallow you whole.
You and the Universe are one and the same in that, because you are a part of it, too. You are not the Universe, of course, but you are made of it, of stardust. (My stardust! Loop says.) It hates you, you know it. It hates you for wishing, for asking more of it than it gives you, being greedy, being selfish. It loves you so much, so dearly. It never forgives you. It is not as nice as the Change God. Neither are you, because you never forgive it.
It leads, and you can only only ONLY EVER FOLLOW!!!!!
You hate it!
You hate it!
You hate it!
You curse the Universe, you curse yourself.
You are certainly being punished.
“Nothing is wrong,” you tell your beloved actors.
They don’t look like they believe you anymore. Even though it’s the truth. Nothing is wrong. You are only being punished, which is what you deserve. Everything is how it should be.
Nothing is wrong at all.
“And, weirdly, I don’t think I even want you to help me?” You told your Researcher, hysteria pressing your words into something high and sharp and haunted. “Why don’t I want you to help me?”
Horrifying. It’s all so horrifying.
You don’t let her respond.
Director, Loop calls you.
Isabeau doesn’t say it. He never says it. He never will. You need him to say it. You try so hard to get him to say it. Make it real. It’s not real unless spoken! Those are the rules, from a country you do not remember that could make wishes into reality by simply giving them form, speaking them. It’s not real unless you say it! But Isabeau doesn’t, not once, not once. You’re not an idiot! You know what he wants to say. After so many loops, how couldn’t you? You want him to say it. To love you, say he loves you. You don’t even know if you feel the same. But you need it, you need him to say it, you need him. You need love. You’ll eat it all!!! Eat his heart!!!! Say it, say it, say it!!!
Coward! Coward! Coward!
He’ll never say it, because he is a coward.
And so are you.
Disgusting you even tried. He shouldn’t say it, shouldn’t love you. You’re too repulsive for it.
Director, Loop calls you.
“What does that make you?” You asked them.
“Your Sponsor, of course~” They grinned.
Such an empty grin. Such an empty person.
You were a little obsessed. (Vanity, not that you knew that then.)
He will never touch you, either. His hand will hover there, inches away. And he will always drop it, like the thought of touching you burns.
WHY WON’T ANYONE BLINDING TOUCH YOU?! ARE YOU A GHOST? A PHANTOM? ALREADY DEAD?? (HAHA! MORE THAN USUAL, AT LEAST!) NOT EVEN REAL, NOT EVEN HERE?! DO YOU NOT EXIST? ARE YOU FADING? IS NOTHING REAL? IS IT ALL AN ACT? ARE YOU A GHOST HAUNTING YOUR OWN DEAD BODY?
ARE YOU EVEN REAL????
(SOMEONE! ANYONE…!)
Loop.
Pokes you.
They look as scared as you. Flinching, cringing from the touch. Hesitant, uncomfortable, wary. But they still poke you.
“I see you, Stardust,” they tell you. “I see you. Y-You’re still here, look!” Their hand is a pleasant pressure against your glove. It’s warm. “Stardust. You’re here, with me.”
You look up at them. So serious faced. Imparting knowledge so certainly. Trying, just for you. (Just for you! Just for you! Just for you!) You can breathe again. Loop smiles, hesitant.
You smile back.
“And you’re here, with me.”
It’s meant to be a mercy.
Their eyes go wide, then narrow. You can’t read the expression on their face. Hysteria? Despair? Relief? You don’t know at all. But it looks…
Painful.
“Ha…” They breathe, like it is a joke they cannot bring themselves to laugh at. “I sure am!!!!”
But that’s not funny, either. And it’s not a joke at all.
If it was, it would be rather tasteless.
“I have never been ashamed of knowing you, Isa,” you say, “Not even once.”
And you mean it! The first time. And the second time! And the third time. And the fourth, fifth, sixth, so on and so forth, over and over and over again. You mean it.
You…
Meant it.
When did you stop meaning it?
You forgot that too.
He is never going to touch you.
But you can touch him, can’t you? If you make the first move? Would that be okay? Wouldn’t that be fine? You need it, you need!
You
Snap.
You lean in, pull at his shirt, and…
He
Pushed you away?
He pushed you away.
Ah. Haha. Ha.
You…
Are repulsive, actually. Truly.
You run, again. Loop back. Coward, haha! You’re both such cowards!
Loop laughs at you. They are so very angry!
And they say your every thought aloud. Make it real. They make it real.
It hurts, it hurts, it hurts.
You deserve it. They know you deserved it, they always know,
Thank you! Shut up! I hate you!
Shut up shut up shut up!!!!!
Ah. You
Will always remember this.
Even if you forget,
This feeling will always stay.
The feeling
That
You are utterly
Completely
And so totally,
Repulsive.
You do not talk to him at the Flavor Tree anymore.
Everything is fine.
You only give flowers to Loop nowadays.
They denied them at first. The flower. Increasingly disgusted. Uncomfortable, even. That you would even try, much less again and again and again. Told you to give it to someone else, someone like Isa. But you had already done that, over and over and over. You had given it to everyone but them, many, many, many times, and it has stopped meaning anything. Which isn't right, not for the flower; it's supposed to mean something. You know that much. So you try to give it to them; because they are important, because they are all you have, because it would only mean something with them, because you look at them sometimes and think: I want to devour you. You're mine, right? But they deny it, every time, at first. It doesn't help their case, you're even more insistent with each denial; you were enthralled with how every loop, they gave you a new response. So you kept doing it. Until one loop, they accepted the flower.
You have only given it to them since.
Because
Because
Because
Loop is the only thing real nowadays.
Loop, Loop, Loop—
You almost killed them once. You pulled a knife on them. They looked at you so empty, so calm. They didn’t care if you did. Maybe a part of them wanted it. Or maybe it didn’t matter to them at all. So calm, so calm, so calm. So cold. Eyes that just stare at you. Waiting. Watching. Seeing.
It
Calmed you down, actually. That they didn’t care if you killed them. That they wouldn’t fight if you did (you could see it in their eyes). That you were allowed to. They wouldn’t hate you if you did. (They already hated you, after all.) They would understand. They wouldn’t blame you. You could tell, looking in their eyes. You could tell. They would let you. They would let you. They would let you.
It calmed you down. Is that messed up? A brief flash of something cold and soothing yet somehow warm buried in your chest. You were allowed to. They would allow you to. They wouldn’t fight. It felt… nice. Calm, soothing, a balm. You didn’t need to anymore with the knowledge.
You put the knife away.
“Why did you do that?” You asked them.
You were furious about it a second ago, but your voice doesn’t shake now. They calmed you down. Knew what you needed. They always did. They were here to help you, after all. They were helpless to do anything else. You already knew that. You believed them even now, that they were here to help. They said… a lot of things, in that tree. And you didn’t think they were lying. (“I'm more like a reflection,” they had laughed at you, and it sounded so, so, so sad.)
So, why?
They explain, something seething and tender and horrified in their voice. They have figured it out, they say. Figured you out.
You don’t just loop when you die, Stardust.
But when you feel you can’t go on.
And that is why, hm. That is why Loop has left your beloved actors to die.
To test the theory.
Looking so empty as they did so.
“Does it matter if they died?” Loop asks you, voice hollow. They already know the answer. They always do. “It was reset right away.”
“Of course it matters,” you hiss back.
They look at you like a tragedy. You look back like a joke.
The punchline is both of you, here with each other.
And so is the heartbreak.
Your
beloved
detestable
Loop.
You'd be insane without them, wouldn’t you?
(Or are you already insane…?)
You stab and stab and stab yourself.
“This isn’t blinding funny!!!!” They hiss, and hiss, and hiss as you laugh. Neither of you cry. Neither of you remember how.
(It’s a little funny.)
You can’t remember if this is a comedy or tragedy, either.
“Do you remember what you told me?” Your Housemaiden asks. (You'll remember her name in a second. Or Loop will call you when you're alone. Maybe when this loop is over.) “Um… About how this journey is the happiest you can remember being?”
You don't. That was so long ago now. How are you expected to remember something like that? Silly Housemaiden, that was surely years ago by now. (Asking if you remember something? The answer is obviously no!) You… don’t actually know how long it's been, though. You could calculate it, of course, but you'd like to keep what's left of your sanity mostly intact, so you won't be doing that, tee-hee. To be frank, you don’t remember anything before the loops, haha! You're starting to forget a lot of the early ones too. (You already forgot Loop warned you about pineapple that first loop, and had a bit of a… accident, with it. Sorry, Loop~ you were right as always. Allergic to pineapple indeed! Quite fatally, in fact! You'll try to remember this time, Bonnie was oh so upset when you choked in front of them. It was delicious, though. Spicy. Loop was sooo mad~ silly, silly Loop. Like death still means anything.) Still! She expects you to know, so it must have been recent for her. So like any good lying liar who lies, you cheerfully reply, “Of course!”
“Do you… still feel that way?” She asks. Insecure, anxious. As if scared you'll regret ever meeting her. (Do you? …No.) “That… this is the happiest you can remember being?”
Hmm. Haha. That's silly. The answer is obvious, isn't it? “Of course~!” You repeat, sweet as sugar and rotting.
It is the truth, after all. (That makes it worse, you know.)
You must have been happier than this before the loops, you think, to have said something like that in the first place. But you can’t remember that. You can't remember anything but this.
So, technically! This IS the happiest you can remember being, right?! Hehe!!
…This is happiness, right?
What you are feeling is happiness, right?
You can't quite remember what it's supposed to feel like. Is it always so miserable? So fizzy and manic? Like it's burning and empty at once? Like something fizzing, popping in your veins? Like you're bleeding out (you know intimately what that feels like) and can't get enough air and yet someone is holding you and it feels so so so good to bleed, because of how awful it is? Like nothing will ever be okay again, except also everything is the best it's always/ever been? Like you're burning alive and yet so so so cold? Like you're being shredded from the inside out? Like you're trying to eat yourself? Like there's nothing but this anymore? Like everything is so fine the word fine loses meaning, and you wish she would tear you apart for it? Punish you for it? Like your veins are trying to rip themselves out of you? Like you need a lobotomy? Like you want her hands in your guts? (Oh, Stars, please. Rip me apart? Break me?) Like you want to be nothing but clay in her hands or not even, like you want her to devour you whole, as painfully as possible, slow and sweet and tortuous, smiling at you as she does it, breaking you, breaking you, breaking you because that is love love love? It doesn’t sound quite right, but you're happy, you are, as long as you're with them. You're desperate, you're pathetic, for feeling happy to be with them, but you are.
This is all you need. Them.
Happiness makes you want to die, doesn't it?
(You think of her killing you. She never has. You find a spark of want.)
You would ask her, but you don’t think she would like to hear that. After all, she doesn’t look like she believes you.
Did she believe you last time? You can’t quite remember. You don't think you would have lied. But you can almost, almost, almost remember her face: concerned? Disbelieving? Looking at you like you're blinding insane? Ah, you don't really remember properly, but… oh, yes. She's looking at you now the same way you think she might have looked back then. How cute, you smile. You wish you could remember her name. You'll call Loop after this. Thinking of them, you smile wider.
…?
Is there something wrong with your smile? It made her look even more doubtful.
How strange.
Head Housemaiden Euphrasie is
Someone you dread even more than the King.
Maybe not fair to her! It’s not her fault. Not really. But you hate her crying. How she apologizes to you. How she always always ALWAYS says the same lines. You hate her, you fear her, you can’t stand to even look at her. She always signals the end. You were so hopeful the first time you defeated the King! What was it, Loop 19? When you finally defeated him? You thought it was over. You thought—
She holds your face so tenderly, Euphrasie. (Even that cannot make any of this worth it.) Crying for you. It’s clear she regrets, she cares. She would help you if she could, she tries to, but her apologies are so grating after a while. It’s not her fault, again. But you can only listen to someone cry apologies at you for unintentionally helping trap you in a time loop so many times before you start to resent her, no matter how kind she seems to be.
It’s a shame, that.
She has beautiful hair.
Her dialogue changed this time.
She says you’re never getting out.
She says that you’re trapped forever.
She says—
No. No. No! She’s lying!! She has to be. There has to be an end!!!!
(You can’t even escape by dying, you know. You knew that from the start. There is no way out, it seems. But there has to be. There has to be. There has to be.
You don't know what you'll do if there's not.)
You
Break their hearts, really. You know you do. Deep down you know even as you do it. But you can’t help it. You
Well, there’s a lot of reasons why you say what you do, really.
You want to hurt them. You hate them! These actors who’ve replaced your family! You want them to be just as miserable as you. (You’re so alone in your misery! Why can’t they see how horrible and grief-stricken you are?) And they aren’t following the script! How annoying. How terrifying. That they are trying to see you. As if there’s anything left to be seen! Anything you were is dust, dust, dust, grinded between the Universe’s molars, if you were anything to start with. They never saw you, even from the start! And you never let them. Mysterious? Cool? Funny? That was never you! You were acting, playing a part. Trying to build up a self around nothing. It was your first sin, maybe. Trying to become something. Trying to build. (You are much better at destroying, certainly.) You were nothing until Isa laughed at your joke. And then suddenly you were something! You were the Something-That-Made-Him-Laugh. You liked the sound. You wanted something, for the first time! To make him laugh again. He was beautiful when he laughed. You were nothing until he laughed. Until they all saw you and kept you, wanted you. Like a cat, Odile said at one point. You would be fine with that (even if the comparison was embarrassing); to be kept like a pet, like something to tame, to coax, to leash, to care for, to own. As long as you’re kept. It doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter, it never mattered how! You just wanted to be kept. To belong to someone. You were nothing, and then you were something, and you wanted to be someone. Someone wanted. A person. So you mimicked, stealing pieces of others for yourself. Changeling. (More than you know.) Shapeshifter. Chameleon. You defined yourself slowly, building who you wanted to be (who they wanted you to be): sharp eyes, trap finder, funnyjokeperson. Mysterious, yes. A facade of cool. And they ate it up.
Manipulative, weren’t you?
Aren’t you?
(Director!)
You want
Them to hate you like you deserve.
So you hurt them.
So that they hurt you, you hurt them.
Break me. You want to plead. Break me until I’m nothing again, please? I hate being something. Why did you make me something? Grind me to dust, to ash. Until I cease to be. Until I have nothing left. Please, I deserve it. You need to know I deserve it. Hehe. Won’t you look at me in the disgust I so rightly earned?
And they do. They do! Oh, they do. How wonderful. You feel relieved. You feel gleeful. You feel ecstatic. You feel
Like you want to die
(DIE DIE DIE)
And never wake up.
Like you want it to be painful.
So painful. So very painful.
Ah! This, this, this must be it!
Despair. Complete and utter despair.
Just like you ordered. Your actors are so diligent, so accommodating. You love them. You love them, you love them, you love them!
(more than anything in the world!!!!!)
They never hurt you before! How exciting. How new. How fun, how awful. You need it, you need this. You don’t heal Mira’s slap. It’s precious, isn’t it? Because she gave it to you. Ah! Ahhhh~! Yes. Yes. Yes. This is—
WHAT YOU DESERVE, RIGHT?
They are finally. Finally. Finally~! Giving you what you deserve. Instead of concern you never have. They hate you, they’re disgusted. They don’t trust you~ they don’t love you~ you’re not their friend, their anything. They don’t know you. Mira said so, right? And it HURT SO BADLY, ah! You could just die right then!
(You think of them killing you. You think of them killing you. You think of them killing you. They never have, but you want want want want want want want want want want want want—!!!)
(Hate me! Love me! Want me! Need me! Keep me! Own me! Force me! Hurt me! Break me! Destroy me! Torture me! Kill me!)
(PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE I NEED IT I NEED IT I NEED IT)
(more, more, more)
Thank you! You want to scream. You want to scream. You want to scream. You finally get it! You finally get what I deserve! Thank you! Thank you! Thank you!
They’ll forgive you though, won’t they?
Maybe they won’t. Maybe when this is over—
—You’ll just die! For real, for real! Dig your blade into the flesh of your throat again, make it as painful as possible, bleed out in their arms for one final time!
Wouldn’t that be nice? Wouldn’t that be so lovely~?
(you don’t want to leave them)
You are so sick, aren’t you? So repulsive, aren’t you? So disgusting, aren’t you? Directing them even now. You know them, even if they don’t know you. You got them to love you before, be your family. You did it over and over and over again, disgusting thing that you are! You smiled as it all disappeared~ you despaired, you grinned~ you were loved. So! So! So!
You know how to get them to hate you, too!
So selfish! So selfish of you!
All you had to do was break their hearts.
Mira is the only one who hit you, but Odile clearly wanted to, lifting you off the ground like that. And her stare! Her stare, haha! If looks could kill. She just has better self control, hee. Isa— well, Isa was disappointing. (Like always!) No matter how much you dug into his wounds, he only retaliated with words at the end there. And those hurt, yes! So very much. But they were also vaguely encouraging, kind of? Even though you were so horrible to him! He really was a coward. He should have hit you or something! (Crush you like a rock! You have ~experience~!) Does he not want to touch you even to hurt you? Oh, Isabeau. He really was too blinding good for you. How disappointing! How disappointing! How disappointing!!!
You might hate him most, if only because he loves you so much.
(YOU DON’T DESERVE ANY OF HIS LOVE)
But at least Mira slapped you, hehe. (What ecstasy. What pain. What bliss~. You’re sick for wanting it so badly. For wanting her to hurt you so badly. For wanting them all to. You’re sick, sick, sick! You feel so sick!!!) You could hardly believe it when she did. You didn’t mean to provoke her! Not consciously, at least. Not that much. You didn’t mean it like she took it. Well, you did. But not to her. You were talking to yourself. Maybe with everything you said to them all was just you talking to yourself.
(alone)
(annoying, left behind)
(useless, weak, COWARD)
You didn’t insult Bonnie, though. You couldn’t… You couldn’t bear to do that.
You made them cry but that one wasn’t on purpose. You just got impatient and botched your lines.
What would be the point in hurting Bonbon? It’s not like they could hurt you like you wanted, and they already hated you. And you just— couldn’t bring yourself to. Not Bonnie.
You could never hate Bonnie.
You’ve hurt them enough, anyway. Even if it was never on purpose.
…
You don’t mind that your actors all hate you now. Or, you do. But that’s the point, isn’t it? It being unbearable? It’s a punishment, after all. It’s all just a punishment. You know that by now, you know that already. You ought to thank the Universe. It knows exactly how to hurt you best. So: thank you, Universe! For hurting me so beautifully! For giving me everything I deserve! For grinding me into stardust!
Hehe. Hehehe.
You can’t do this anymore, you think.
If you wake up in that field one more time. You don’t know what you will do. You don’t know what you will do anymore. You think you will just break! And not in a fun way! This is enough. This is enough for you. Enough torment. Enough punishment. This is enough, yes, Universe? You’ve suffered enough? You’ve repented enough? You’ll be granted forgiveness? Some kind of mercy?
You’ll give anything. Your mind. Your body. Your soul. Your life. Anything the Universe wants! As long as this ends. Please, just let it end?
Please, please, please.
You really will do anything.
Just let it end. Let it end. Let it end.
Let everything end.
(you think
if you cannot get out
you might,
tear the whole world to shreds.)
Loop
Does not believe you can escape.
They protest when you point this out, when you read the truth from their face that you now know, but there’s a desperation to them. As if in denial. As if scared. As if terrified of the truth they already know.
They don’t believe a single protest they give you deep down. They don’t think either of you can escape.
They
Knew you were trapped from the start, didn’t they?
Hahahaha.
Ha.
Graciously, you do not kill them for it. They should be grateful for your self control! You do not kill them even a little bit!
Graciously
Graciously
Graciously!
You do not stab them. You do not tear into their chest, rip their ribcage(?) open, their star apart. You do not slam them into the tree until they are seeing stars. You do not cut them open and see if they have a heart. (You do not eat that heart.) You do not finger the wound. You do not bite their neck and tear them apart with your teeth and swallow, take whatever is inside of them and let it fill you. You do not gouge their eyes out. (You do not make you match.) You do not tear into them with anger and mania and want, desires swirling with rage. You do not express your hate your love your need. You do not break them, crack them open, or destroy them in any way. You do not play with their guts(?) or paint the floor with their blood(?). You do not consume them whole. You do not make them suffer, you do not make them writhe and plead and beg, and you do not eat a single piece of them. You could, if you had less self control. You want to. (So badly!) You could do anything to them. Because they are yours. (They know it, too. They can see all this swirling in your eye. They always knew you so so so well. They always knew you best.) But you don’t! Because you are determined for this to be the final loop, so they wouldn’t come back if you did all that, would they?
They should be grateful~.
Tee-hee.
Your actors are talking about leaving without you.
Silly! You cannot allow that. Do they reaaaally think you will allow that~? What would they do without their director? What cues would they have, what lines would they know to give? They need you! Their disgust is right, of course, and you deserve it a hundred (five hundred) fold, but you cannot allow them to leave without you. After all! Every time they go to the House without you,
They die.
You can’t
You can’t
You CANNOT
let them die.
Not anymore than you already have.
(YOU WILL NEVER LET THEM LEAVE YOU)
So you leave, this time, without them.
It’s okay, really. You have to strike the King yourself, anyway.
“Do you remember?” He always asks you.
You have a lot of memories of this blinded king, old fool that he is. He disgusts you. You didn’t use to think much of him— of really any of this— if you never met your party, you would have just let yourself get frozen. It didn’t matter. You didn’t care. Just The Traveler, with no one who would miss him, and no one to miss themselves. You were apathetic. It was a relief, even, maybe. The idea that you didn’t have to exist anymore. So you didn’t have personal stakes in the King, really, not at first. You only joined Mira because you quite literally, as you told her, had nothing better to do.
But the King, even if he does not remember
Has made this very personal.
“Do you remember?” He always asks you.
Ha! Haha! He still has hope, the poor thing. The poor dear! The poor old fool! He still thinks there’s any hope of his wish being fulfilled. He still thinks the Universe cares~ as if it would lead the blasphemous who can’t even remember it properly. He’s forgotten, too! He’s forgotten that the Universe is cruel. He’s forgotten that he is. “I am a merciful King,” he lies to you, over and over and over again! Hehehehe!
“Even if I did remember,” you tell him, “I would never share it with you.”
Not anymore, at least! You tried that already, after all! Gave him a flower, because it was meant for important people in your culture, whether enemies, lovers, friends. Promised you’d remember him, giving him that mercy. Tried to remember with him, once, even. Choked on your country's name. Said it, tried to say it, over and over and over again. And it killed you! Bleed out of you! The Universe’s jaws closed around you, snapping your neck! Breaking, breaking, breaking! In your mouth, your throat, you choked, choked, choked! Truly like an actor who cannot remember his lines. You will never remember, tee-hee! You will never remember any of it. The Universe doesn’t want you to. Who are you to deny it it’s fun? Who are you to tell it not to delight in your suffering? Who are you to lecture anyone on being cruel? It choked you, the Universe. And it will again, if it has to. Again and again and again. Forevermore.
Foolish King, you think once more. He doesn’t remember how cruel the Universe is, not at all.
You ought to remind him.
He deserves it, after all. Just as much as you.
He deserves it, over and over and over again.
You tried to offer mercy! You tried pacifism, tried sympathizing with him. Tried talking him out of it all. Tried to give him a chance to Change. A part of you even liked him, you think, back then, in a strange way. You had empathy, didn’t you? You understood, didn’t you? Wanting things to stay the same, for bliss to be captured forever frozen in time. (“Sometimes,” Loop said.) But it wasn’t right. You both couldn’t do this any longer. Couldn’t he see? He had to let them go. He had to let them all go. You gave him mercy, like you wanted to give yourself. And he! He! He, haha!
TRICKED YOU!
A punishment, he called it. A lesson.
I know what you are!
I hate what you are!
And he, he, he, HAAAAH.
Did the worst thing he could have ever done to you.
He made you break your promise.
Your promise, to Bonnie,
That you’d protect them.
HEEEEH. You should
Punish him for that,
right?
Hurt him, hurt him, hurt him,
Hurt yourself,
So deeply,
It will be felt even after death.
Because the King is
Unforgivable.
And so are you.
Neither of you deserve mercy.
“My favorite words,” your Sadness says, “Are those that don’t mean anything.”
Stars, you think you say. You’re gasping, pleading, breaking, begging. In their eyes is a horrible shade, one you choked on. Colors. Red.
Something is broken.
(Broken, failing, rotting–!!!)
You know it’s you. They smell of seasalt, the only thing that can cut through the sugar.
“My favorite things,” they are smiling at you, but that eye is swirling with madness. “Are those not around anymore.”
And you
Don’t want to hear this. Any of this. You don’t want to remember. You don’t want to forget.
Mal Du Pays.
Ah, but why would you be homesick for a home you can’t remember, that you’ve never truly known, Traveler?
You hate them. You hate yourself.
You
Are never safe.
You never were.
You just forgot that! Tee-hee!
That’s not blinding funny.
Ah, but the Audience thinks so, don’t they?
Change God, Universe, Loop— don’t they think it’s blinding hilarious?
…maybe Loop doesn’t. You think in a future you can’t imagine, that maybe they were only ever laughing at themselves.
Haaah. Themselves, yes.
Like that’s different.
Like that’s different.
Like that’s different.
But maybe to them it was, in some ways.
But not in others.
Your family
Saves you.
Loop saves you.
Loop does what they have never done
Not in thousands and thousands of their own loops
And tells your family the truth.
And your family
Saves you.
They
forgive you,
Because they are more kind and merciful than the Change God,
Than the Universe,
Than you.
Because they want to stay with you too.
They always have.
It was that easy?
It was…?
You just had to ask for it?
Oh.
Poor, poor, poor Loop. You break them with this.
You don’t think you ever knew Loop as well as they knew you, but. You understand more than anyone else could.
When they wrap their hands around your neck,
When they beg you to kill them,
When they scream and cry and break apart in your hold,
Eyes red red red,
Broken,
(When they look at you and you know, know, know,
They want to kill you. They want to stab you. They want to tear into your chest, rip your ribcage open, your chest apart. They want to slam you into the tree until you are seeing stars. They want to cut you open, take back their heart that beats in your chest, eat it whole. They want to finger the wound. They want to bite your neck and tear you apart with teeth they no longer have and swallow, take your insides back for them and let them, let you, fill them. They want to gouge your working eye out, they want to make themselves match, they want to explore the hole where your other eye should be until you're screaming. They want to tear into you with anger and mania and want, desires swirling with rage. All they can express is their hate their love their need. They want to break you, crack you open, destroy you in every way. They want to play with your guts and paint the floor with your blood. They want to consume you whole, climb into your chest and live there, make you climb into theirs. They want to make you suffer, make you writhe and plead and beg, and eat every single piece of you until two became one once more. Strangle the life from you, become you, be you again, make you as miserable as them, as alone as them, hate you love you want you need you keep you own you force you hurt you break you destroy you torture you kill you, they want, want, want, need, need, need,
Oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh—
You are the same wretched person and it should turn you off but all it does is make your eye wide and even more wanting, and if you were still in a time loop you would let them do all that and more, you would ask them to let you do the same to them, you would thank them for it, you would beg them for it, you would give them everything and take everything else and and and
there's something wrong with you, everything wrong with you, but
It is also wrong with them!)
You understand that too.
“507 loops are nothing,” they said.
What a horrifying thing for another Siffrin to say.
All good things come in three’s.
But not all things that come in three are good.
Loop. You. Mal Du Pays.
Aren’t there enough Siffrin’s in this time loop? Tee-hee!
That’s not. Blinding. Funny.
None of this ever was.
“Stardust,” is a rather sad nickname, you suppose. You asked them about it once. “You’re what’s left,” they said.
Of me, they didn’t finish.
“My stardust,” they said, occasionally, like an elaboration, like a claim, which was even worse, probably. For them. It was literal, it was desperate, it was sad. But weren’t you theirs? Their wish. Their… clone. Their stardust. Ever fading, ever burning up. They made you, wished for you, hated and loved you, reflected you. You liked it, you think. Being theirs. Like they wanted to keep you, the only thing they were allowed to keep, the only thing that was theirs, anymore. (You took everything else. They gave it to you.) It probably sounded like something it wasn’t to others (if they ever even heard) but, well. You think it was more a cruelty to themselves than anything. What a sad, sad nickname. And what a sad, sad name they gave themselves, too!
“Isn’t that cruel?” You wanted to ask them. But they were warm under your palms, as you cried, as you smiled. As they cried. Your perfect, beautiful star. “Isn’t that cruel to yourself, Siffrin?”
You didn’t say that, though, because…
They already knew it. That’s why they did it.
“Why are you always so cruel to yourself?”
But, you knew that, too.
You were them, after all. Made in their image.
So instead, you told them, “I’m sorry, Siffrin.”
Instead, you told them, “And thank you, Loop!”
Helpful Loop, who never believes they are so. Your one and only and greatest ally during the loops, the reason you got out, the sole reason, and you!
Feel safe with them in your hands, cupped in your palm.
The Sponsor, The Understudy. Your Star, Their Stardust.
Where they strangled you tingled, and you laughed, unafraid.
You could never be afraid of them, even if they killed you over and over and over again.
(You would like that, even.)
But they didn’t, did they?
They wouldn’t.
They couldn’t even kill you once!
You couldn't, wouldn't kill them either.
And in their eyes, you found something to love about yourself—them!
You hoped they were reflected in your eye the same. That you were reflected in their eyes!
You think you are!
After all, you’re the same, aren’t you?
And in the end, they smiled.
Genuine. For the first time you’ve seen.
You smiled back! A reflection. A mirror. A heartbeat ripped from them. Their heart in your chest, and it beat beat beat. For them, for you. You had smiled.
And they had disappeared into stardust.
You let them go, this time. No more wishes. They promised, after all, to come back to you—
And if you can’t trust yourself, who can you?
You know you will see them again. Even if only in the mirror.
You’re going to have to get kinder, you think. To your reflection. To yourself. As kind as Loop was to you. You’ll return it all to them.
You’re theirs, after all. They said so. They said so themselves! You will not forget this, any of this, any of them. You will not forget.
And for once, remembering… That makes you happy, too!
So, you smile.
Genuine. For what feels like the first time.
The Universe twinkles back at you. It doesn’t give you what you want, because it never does. But that’s okay, this time.
You know Loop will eventually.
After all!
They’re yours, too. Your Loop, your Star, your Sponsor, gifted to you by the Universe, your gift, their wish, just for you, just for you, just for you, yours yours yours!
The only thing that is properly yours.
So you know— you’ll meet again!
You have to return their coin, after all.