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[figlia_morbida]

WELCOME TO YOUR PRIVATE CHANNEL, TRISH UNA. FOR SECURE COMMUNICATION, USE 867.53.099.99 *** Zigazigah has joined 867.53.099.99 <Zigazigah> Don't talk to me. <Zigazigah> Thanks.

Main Username: < Zigazigah >

Public Appearance UN: < Western_Horizon >

Anon: < sharpdistance > , < kidcharlemagne > (not actually anon now because of Hinata)

Comments

"He's been in danger no matter who he's with. He could be in danger now." AUGH

[figlia_morbida]

[What Atem has been through is not something Trish has seen. There's shades of it, certainly, but she can only meet him from her own heart. She assumes he's taking her literally, and she can understand that mindset, but only from an incorrect point of view. Specifically, she imagines the logic to be akin to that of a child's, which makes sense, considering he can only remember his childhood and the weird double-life that he woke up to thousands of years later. And a child, they see certain people as invincible, able to shield them from the scary parts of the world. She gets that because she was in a similar place, once, although she had every nail of that assumption painfully pulled from the latticework of her understanding, leaving deep bores and chipped wood as reminders.

There is no such thing as being protected entirely, and there never was.

It's the sum of what she and Bruno spoke of, and how the only sort of safety that exists is the safety of relief. A safe person is thus a relief from the world. But then, Trish has a support network, one that rushed to her side the moment she woke up here. So it's easy for her to say these things, and assume they'll stick. It's easy for her to assume Atem's support network is even more vast than her own.

Why wouldn't it be?]

It feels awful to say, doesn't it? But it's what I believe, so I'm glad...I'm truly grateful you understand where I'm coming from. We know they weren't weak, but what we have to deal with...

[Trish shakes her head.

She'd shake it more at that assertion too, but curiously, it's one Bruno shared too. Another person that feels that way about her, and she can only wonder if she comes off that weak too. But she's too stubborn not to see this through with them. With him.

The ocean continues to rise up to meet them, and Trish reaches down to let it submerge her finger tips. Farewell, ducks.]

...Thank you.

[Whether that's directed toward his prior comment, or his observation of the beach is unclear.

And she continues, gesturing to the rolling ocean waves, where a large, rocky outcropping breaks the otherwise smooth horizon:]

This is the Bay of San Montano, one of Ischia's most beautiful beaches. There's almost always clear skies here. The sky in your palace reminded me of it, and also made me think...even if you're from a thousand, thousand years ago, you've meshed with us so well. In fact, so many of us would never have met without this tiny, broken world, so if there's anything I'm grateful for in being aware of every inch of our pain here...

It's that if I have to endure something so awful, I'm happy it's with people like you.

[Because...Atem is safe.]