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ryslig
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Basil shakes his head a little, but he doesn't move from the middle of his bedroom. He's avoiding looking at the pictures, which are all of people in Ryslig, going about their day or posing for the camera...he can't stand looking at them.]
...I h-haven't....taken pictures like this since Mari died. I haven't wanted to.
[That...isn't entirely true. It's more that his desire to had been snuffed out by guilty association.]
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Oh, fuck.
Max swallows behind him. It would make sense if it was tied to that, wouldn't it? That's how trauma works. ]
Basil... [ She can't find the right words. Instead, just walks up and reaches for one of his hands wrapped around his middle. To try and get him to move, something. ]
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He looks over to her finally, his expression a touch frightened.]
I...I don't like it when I can't...remember stuff like this, Max.
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I know. [ Softer than usual, in an attempt to be soothing. ] It was a...one of those things. Okay? A lot of people had different memories, last week. It wasn't only you. I'm... Even my memory's a little...hazy.
[ Not incredibly. But it's strange. Disorienting. Like everything's been moved slightly, and she has to sort through it. ]
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One of those things...]
...but I was. Different. Right?
[He had to have been, to be doing this.]
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You were...happier. More...carefree.
[ Is Max happy that he's not anymore? How...awful is it, to think that? ]
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[Happier. He...has an inkling as to what could have possibly been the reason, but thinking too deeply on that makes his stomach hurt.]
I see. I'm...I'm sorry if that was...weird, at all.