(no subject)
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<gameover>
Yeah. I know. But that's not everything.
[In the end, as deeply as Amanda and Aunamee seem to understand each other, there's so much to the other that neither of them would truly be able to wrap their heads around. They represent two very, VERY different paths to becoming psychotic serial killers: one almost entirely emotionless, and the other overly emotional to a genuinely unhealthy degree. Even the nature of their respective devotions, so similar on the surface, couldn't be more different.]
<saturnschild>
What happened to you inside that whale, Amanda?
[And then, after a nearly imperceptible pause:]
What did it do to you?
<gameover>
Does it even fucking matter?
<saturnschild>
Do you agree with me?
<gameover>
<saturnschild>
Do you understand how incredible that is? How much better you are than the feeble-minded dregs of this peninsula? What about you needs to be fixed?
<gameover>
When I was a little girl, my father would lock me under the stairs. I wad terrified of the dark, and he would leave me in there, alone. For hours.
cw: child abuse
For Aunamee, normal people are confusing. Broken people make sense.]
What became of him?
<gameover> cw: alcoholism
Doesn't matter. Point is, I replaced him. Twice.
[Once with John, whom Aunamee met in the form of a very convincing imitation, and once with the Fog God, the 'mother' whom Aunamee also fervently serves. So Amanda doesn't need to mention either replacement by name.]
<saturnschild>
He thinks about the Fog God's reassuring words in his ear.]
No. You corrected the mistake.
<gameover>
Yet despite the reasons for her clinging, the fact remains that all her adoration for her parental figures is entirely real. That her capacity for genuine love in and of itself signifies her full personhood is an epiphany she may never have.]
I'm nothing. Inside. There's nothing there but emptiness, so I fill it with them.
<saturnschild>
[It's a different kind of emptiness, but emptiness nonetheless. One almost entirely emotionless, and the other overly emotional to a genuinely unhealthy degree. ]
Perhaps that's why I'm so fond of you.
<gameover>
So where does that leave us?
<saturnschild>
We serve the Fog. We punish the people who deserve it. We endure.
<gameover> SORRY THIS IS SO BEYOND LATE