text | un: sds
My mother, Rose Da Silva, has returned to the ocean. I know she was close to a lot of people here and I thought it was important to let everyone know.
[ She hadn’t wanted to tell anyone, truth be told, but she knew she couldn’t selfishly hold onto the information when Rose knew and cared about so many people in this place and vice versa. But even this small amount of public acknowledgment cuts her to the bone. ]
[ She hadn’t wanted to tell anyone, truth be told, but she knew she couldn’t selfishly hold onto the information when Rose knew and cared about so many people in this place and vice versa. But even this small amount of public acknowledgment cuts her to the bone. ]
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But thanks, Viktor.
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I don't suppose you share her interest in exploration of this place? I had a book found in the tunnels I wanted to show her. It seems fitting I'd offer it to you, in truth.
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I’d love to see it. What kind of book is it?
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It's a book about the pthumerians, which has some interesting insight into how they think. Also a little about this Julia Sodder, the one from the dream before. Long before my time, but relevant it seems.
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Do you want to bring it by? If not, I’ll come grab it when I’m not currently clinging to a teddy bear like I’m a kid again. [ it’s meant to be funny but it’s just kind of sad. ]
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I certainly can, if you'd like. I have time this afternoon. [and he'll probably bring tea or something because yes, that is a little sad there.]
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I’ll send you my location then but no rush. [ yes please bring her more tea. she’s got a growing collection of it
she shoots him her location in Crenshaw in addition to a quick map from the lantern. ]
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[but this afternoon he does show up, a knock on the door and a book under his arm. he leans on his cane, considering the area. a little depressing this is how he meets sharon, who jason mentioned before and rose obviously spoke of so fondly.]
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Sharon answers the door after she peeks out the window. she’s unkempt, her bleached hair unbrushed, and still in her pajamas. it doesn’t seem to embarrass her, though. grief is a strange beast.
her eyes linger on his cane, on the way he leans upon it, and there’s a flicker of concern in her worn gaze but she doesn’t comment upon it. she notices the book next and knows immediately who it is. ]
Hey, Viktor. [ she steps aside so he can enter if he’d like. the inside of the cottage is dark, curtains drawn as if to block out the outside world. it’s clean, though, and could even be considered cozy. ]
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he enters, raising the book as he does.] Your mother was the one who first put the idea of looking more into this world into my mind. She has a certain exploratory spirit, I suppose.
[a pause and he regards her, says,] You can tell me not to mention her, if you'd prefer. I can imagine distraction may be preferable to reminiscing.
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she waves off his offer ]
It’s fine. It feels weird to talk about her, like… I don’t know, like she should still be here, but I don’t mind. I know she made a strong impression on a lot of people.
I’m not the only person who lost her, you know? [ she’d love to be selfish about Rose but her mother wouldn’t have wanted that. ]
I’m glad she inspired you.