video ● eleventh reflection

[straying]

[ FORWARD-DATED TO THE EVENING OF THE 23RD. (As tags will be slow for a while after.) ]

[There's a click as the feed starts and Saya hums a bit. She looks a bit tired but there's nothing about her demeanor that specifically tells that she's been haunted for the last couple days.]

The eve of Christmas Eve, guys! I figure most of us are pushing back our holiday plans considering everything that's happening, but I've found the most reliable mailman, so I hope some of you get your presents! Is everyone managing with your ghosts, though? I had one of my own but I haven't seen him lately. Then again, he always had that habit with disappearing. But if you ever need a place to crash or someone to talk to, you know where to go~

[She grins cheekily. Though suddenly her expression is confused.

What was that chill?

Will you continue to destroy others, witch?

The air is electrified. Everything is tense. Every fiber of her being on edge. Him. That voice. That insult. Only he would- Only her murderer would.

The broadcast is left forgotten as she whips around in her chair, her back to the SFC now as it lay on the table, entirely neglected. Because all at once, she's forgotten. Forgotten the curse, forgotten the ghosts, forgotten everything. Only remembering that she is facing the man who took her life.

Nevermind that this voice is only in her head.]

H-Hey.... I-I liked Train better. Why are you here? I don't want to- to....

[--to die again.

Her voice shakes, much as her frame does now. All the worldly experience that she exudes in her posture and confidence has been stripped from her now, just as she feels that the world has been yanked from underneath her.

Train Train Train. You don't even deserve to say his name, witch! He's not here to save you now. And truly, I will not fail to cut out your heart-

She leaps to her feet and knocks the SFC off the table in her haste. It clicks off. There will be no audience as she loses her mind.]

Comments

[sweeperesque.livejournal.com]

[A choked laugh and then she lifts a shaking hand up to the screen.]

I don't think you want the nitty gritty details, Billy.

[aimforthesun.livejournal.com]

... And you expect me to talk about my life when you won't say anything about yours?

[sweeperesque.livejournal.com]

... I doubt you'd want to hear it now, of all times.

[aimforthesun.livejournal.com]

... You're right, I don't. But...

[He doesn't know how to say this.]

[sweeperesque.livejournal.com]

[... ffff. Why is this making her feel better? She musters up an actual smile this time.]

I appreciate the thought. I'll be okay, Billy.

[aimforthesun.livejournal.com]

... You better. Who else is going to keep Matthew in line?

[A pause]

Kind of in line.

[sweeperesque.livejournal.com]

[She reeeaaaally doesn't want to talk about Matthew right now. She's being haunted by her own ghost. Too early to start worrying about him and his.]

He can take care of himself, consequences and all.

[aimforthesun.livejournal.com]

Yeah, but he'll probably drive everyone else nuts if you're not there.

[sweeperesque.livejournal.com]

Then you'll have to fill in for me.

[aimforthesun.livejournal.com]

... You're kidding.

[sweeperesque.livejournal.com]

Not in a kidding mood.

[aimforthesun.livejournal.com]

Like I know how to handle that guy...!

[sweeperesque.livejournal.com]

It's an acquired skill.

[aimforthesun.livejournal.com]

And I'm not in the mood to acquire it.

[sweeperesque.livejournal.com]

Hard to find someone who is.