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For Sycamore; Dangan Roleplay Round 2
[Holo Caster message sent on Thursday, June 26; delivered on Sunday, June 29th.]
[The hologram that flickers to life is different than the ones that usually come from Lysandre's device. Those have always been composed, immaculate-looking to the point of seeming staged; he's leaning back in this one, his posture almost careless where he's propped up against the wall, and the cravat around his neck is undone and his collar is open for now.
His hair is tied back with...something-or-other that he got from the physics lab supply room a couple of days ago, all of it pulled back messily into that short fluffy ponytail that he usually doesn't show to anyone else; if you look closely enough, you can tell that he doesn't have the usual foundation on, either, and there's nothing hiding those freckles from view.
He's not smiling, exactly, but he looks more peaceful than he usually does; his eyes are half-closed, but he's clearly not asleep, either, even if it takes him a moment to respond, and even if it's obvious that he would really rather be asleep if the way his words are lightly slurring themselves together is anything to judge by.]
I hope this doesn't hurt you, mon ami, because that's the last thing that I want to do to you. I hope that by now I've changed my mind; I hope you'll look at this on Sunday, and then you'll look at me and ask me what this is even about, and I hope I'm around to grab at your watch and tell you to disregard it because my hair looks horrible and I'm clearly delirious.
But I don't...
[He sighs; that strange peacefulness doesn't break.]
I don't think that will be the case.
[He's quiet for a moment, running his hand backwards through his hair.]
You said in one of your letters to me that you're happy to think that you contributed just a tiny bit to the person that I'd become, when the truth is that I owe everything to you. You...you were there for me when no one else was, and I think it's not an exaggeration to say that you saved my life in several ways back then. You gave me faith in people again, you gave me a reason to keep trying to have faith in people, and it's not that you helped me "just a bit", you...
[He laughs a bit, the sound strange and high and delirious-sounding.]
I always said that I could never repay you, and I meant it, even if you never believed me; I told you earlier that you don't have to save me, but I couldn't...think of how to tell you that you already have. You said you want to help me feel things that aren't just anger and hatred; the strongest times I feel otherwise are when I'm around you.
[He shifts position then, leaning back against the wall more heavily.]
You can get out of here, mon ami, I know you can. You're going to get out of here because you're strong enough, and you're going to save everyone just like you saved me. You're going to win, and you're going to defeat the Headmaster, and you're going to...you're going to be all right, even if you don't think you are. I don't have your intuition, but my strength is in observation and analysis and I know what I've seen from you.
Trust me, this one last time: you're going to survive this.
Je t'aime, Augustine. Je t'aime et je t'aimerai toujours.
[His gaze shifts a little; it's still aimed low, but it's clearly darting slightly beneath his lashes.]
Au revoir.
[The hologram that flickers to life is different than the ones that usually come from Lysandre's device. Those have always been composed, immaculate-looking to the point of seeming staged; he's leaning back in this one, his posture almost careless where he's propped up against the wall, and the cravat around his neck is undone and his collar is open for now.
His hair is tied back with...something-or-other that he got from the physics lab supply room a couple of days ago, all of it pulled back messily into that short fluffy ponytail that he usually doesn't show to anyone else; if you look closely enough, you can tell that he doesn't have the usual foundation on, either, and there's nothing hiding those freckles from view.
He's not smiling, exactly, but he looks more peaceful than he usually does; his eyes are half-closed, but he's clearly not asleep, either, even if it takes him a moment to respond, and even if it's obvious that he would really rather be asleep if the way his words are lightly slurring themselves together is anything to judge by.]
I hope this doesn't hurt you, mon ami, because that's the last thing that I want to do to you. I hope that by now I've changed my mind; I hope you'll look at this on Sunday, and then you'll look at me and ask me what this is even about, and I hope I'm around to grab at your watch and tell you to disregard it because my hair looks horrible and I'm clearly delirious.
But I don't...
[He sighs; that strange peacefulness doesn't break.]
I don't think that will be the case.
[He's quiet for a moment, running his hand backwards through his hair.]
You said in one of your letters to me that you're happy to think that you contributed just a tiny bit to the person that I'd become, when the truth is that I owe everything to you. You...you were there for me when no one else was, and I think it's not an exaggeration to say that you saved my life in several ways back then. You gave me faith in people again, you gave me a reason to keep trying to have faith in people, and it's not that you helped me "just a bit", you...
[He laughs a bit, the sound strange and high and delirious-sounding.]
I always said that I could never repay you, and I meant it, even if you never believed me; I told you earlier that you don't have to save me, but I couldn't...think of how to tell you that you already have. You said you want to help me feel things that aren't just anger and hatred; the strongest times I feel otherwise are when I'm around you.
[He shifts position then, leaning back against the wall more heavily.]
You can get out of here, mon ami, I know you can. You're going to get out of here because you're strong enough, and you're going to save everyone just like you saved me. You're going to win, and you're going to defeat the Headmaster, and you're going to...you're going to be all right, even if you don't think you are. I don't have your intuition, but my strength is in observation and analysis and I know what I've seen from you.
Trust me, this one last time: you're going to survive this.
Je t'aime, Augustine. Je t'aime et je t'aimerai toujours.
[His gaze shifts a little; it's still aimed low, but it's clearly darting slightly beneath his lashes.]
Au revoir.