Anemone From the Greek anemōnē, "daughter of thew ind." The Anemoi were four wind gods in Greek mythology. Protection against evil or ill wishes. Red: Death or forsaken love
[He knows she's trying to be nice, but his expression, if anything, only turns more unhappy. There's another burst of thought here, but it's too jumbled to make sense of--only flickers of memory, the barest glimpse of a laboratory, and blood on the floor.
He pushes past it all, of course, refusing to acknowledge any of it.]
The--[...He forgot what color he assigned Nehan. Damn.]--guy with the ears said that the cult might read the letters. Do you have a code or something for when you write?
[oh. terrible. she's letting him have space to decide what to do, and she's unsurprised he ignores it.]
Nehan. [gentle correction.] Not exactly a code, we're still trying to figure out what can and can't get through. But most of us pick a different name to send so the letters don't directly point to us. You learn to kind of say things without saying too much. [...] Guess it depends what you want to say.
[He's gonna have to remember this dude's name now... damn...]
I guess there's not enough time to organize anything.
[They don't really use codes or anything in the Order either, so this is fine. He doesn't want letters anyway so all he has to do is not sign them and he'll be FREE (he will not be he already got mail)]
Nothing concrete, no. You could always talk to one of the others if you wanted to combine letters somehow. Send a message in two parts? We don't get a lot of room to write much, but it's enough. Karma split up some messages across letters and told the other side to start connecting them which I'm sure you already knew.
[more importantly...]
Now that they know we're here, you know they'll reach out. [yeah you're not free.]
They can just write you if they want to talk so badly.
[Why bother him when there's five million social people here!!! He has nothing to say anyway. Except maybe, maybe one letter to Laudna that isn't an insane drawing since she was so sad when she wrote him, but even that's a big if.]
They have been. And I'm going to write them back probably tomorrow when Daan gets here. That doesn't really negate what I just said though and you know it.
...I don't know. Some of them might keep writing even if you never reply. Sometimes it's in the hopes of reaching the other person and hearing from them. Sometimes it's hoping they'll at least read it, even if there's no reply. And sometimes in the end it's just for them.
[It's not really something Kanda can grasp on a personal level--though the reasons for that are many and complex. It's not emotionshare yet, but there's a slightly complicated look on his face, just for a minute.]
They can do what they want. [Eventually.] I don't plan on going in that room again.
[Other people can bring him his mail if they really want to... and then later he will borrow Aerith's letter space like an asshole so it all works out.]
[she just rolls her eyes a little, but she won't push.]
Okay then. Don't get mad if I accidentally read all of your mail though. It gets mixed together when it comes back to us and it can be hard to sort fast enough.
[she will now go out of her way to read kanda's mail if he doesn't.]
[Just about any another day and he'd be curious enough for his thoughts to betray him, but--a lot has happened, and right now the exhaustion is starting to win out.
Even so, he glances reluctantly towards the building.]
[He's still a little wobbly, but with a 17 he will manage to head towards the building without needing help so he can hole up in his room and decompress from post-CYOA murder weekend. CHOPS US FREE FROM THIS THREAD]
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He pushes past it all, of course, refusing to acknowledge any of it.]
The--[...He forgot what color he assigned Nehan. Damn.]--guy with the ears said that the cult might read the letters. Do you have a code or something for when you write?
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Nehan. [gentle correction.] Not exactly a code, we're still trying to figure out what can and can't get through. But most of us pick a different name to send so the letters don't directly point to us. You learn to kind of say things without saying too much. [...] Guess it depends what you want to say.
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I guess there's not enough time to organize anything.
[They don't really use codes or anything in the Order either, so this is fine. He doesn't want letters anyway so all he has to do is not sign them and he'll be FREE (he will not be he already got mail)]
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[more importantly...]
Now that they know we're here, you know they'll reach out. [yeah you're not free.]
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I don't care. [Yes he does a little maybe kinda. But he'll probably ignore them anyway...]
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Not even a little? [listen. sometimes death is the loneliest experience a person can have, even for people who want to be alone.]
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[Why bother him when there's five million social people here!!! He has nothing to say anyway. Except maybe, maybe one letter to Laudna that isn't an insane drawing since she was so sad when she wrote him, but even that's a big if.]
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[SURELY THEY SHOULD KNOW WHAT HE'S LIKE BY NOW.]
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They can do what they want. [Eventually.] I don't plan on going in that room again.
[Other people can bring him his mail if they really want to... and then later he will borrow Aerith's letter space like an asshole so it all works out.]
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Okay then. Don't get mad if I accidentally read all of your mail though. It gets mixed together when it comes back to us and it can be hard to sort fast enough.
[she will now go out of her way to read kanda's mail if he doesn't.]
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[He
truly doesn't care actually he has no secrets that would come through via mail]
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...get set up with an apartment if you haven't yet. I don't trust you not to decide to sleep outside somewhere.
[this is sort of a joke, but also, please make yourself easier to find.]
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Even so, he glances reluctantly towards the building.]
Do the doors lock?
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Mmhm. You can pick up a key at the front desk, and they lock from the inside. Nobody will bother you if that's what you decide to do.
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[He's still a little wobbly, but with a 17 he will manage to head towards the building without needing help so he can hole up in his room and decompress from post-CYOA murder weekend. CHOPS US FREE FROM THIS THREAD]