FOR THEY CANNOT DIE ANYMORE, BECAUSE THEY ARE EQUAL TO ANGELS.

[cccorp]

Today, the canals of Mac Anu flow as gentle as they always do, gondolas drifting lazy through the paths of sunlight cut bright across the water. Shops and vendors line the stonework streets along the waterways, a general murmur of NPCs circulating through their preprogrammed business keeping Mac Anu, as always, feeling maybe a little more alive than a real city.

There is one particular bridge that nearly every player's taken at least once, because it connects to a great many other places of interest, and it's wide enough for easy travel. Besides, with the professions update, they've put a fishing spot on the other side of it. NPCs with fishing rods litter the spot in alternating shifts, their laughter mingling with the calls of shopkeeps advertising cheap prices for some simple plants to get started crafting with, and the clink of forks and plates at a restaurant nearby, its customers singing the chef praises.

Below the bridge, a gondolier passes, humming, his gondola drifting along its circuit through the canals, his tune in rhythm with the passing conversation. As he comes out from under it and sails further away, he glances up at the bridge, as if he were expecting something, and he seems to see it. His gaze remains fixed there until, eventually, the water takes him out of sight again.

Today, you might notice that at the base of this bridge, just before your feet, is a red sort of smear.

A little further down the bridge, about a fourth of the way along it, is a person collapsed on the ground. The red trails to him, fallen forward.

You see upon approaching his hand grasping at his throat at the singularly cut sliced deep into his neck. His one good eye wide and unblinking, he is—among all the laughter and conversation on either side of the bridge; in the shadow of the clock tower, which stands a silent witness, the sun at its back—no longer breathing, his body cool to the touch.

Perhaps this could be considered a kindness: for one who failed, time and time and again, to grasp the desire to live, maybe he found some suggestion of it in his last moments, his hand at his throat, his palm smeared with dried blood, a curious anomaly in the deathless Mac Anu. Fragment had, after all, taught him a great many things. Should he not be grateful for one more, no matter how permanent the lesson?

Mithrun is dead.

Comments

[selfconcept]

That's what I'm saying. You're all treating me like one, so don't put me on the high horse yourselves. You're angry and you want someone to blame. Isn't it nice that I'm conveniently here? To accept all your complaints?

[ganymed]

[ He sends him a look for that. This is only the second time he has spoken to Hien and yes he has heard of his attitude but Ganymede is not going to take it.

Someone innocent got hurt. ]

...Is that what you think it is? That we're just angry?!

You're the one getting all damned boorishly high and mighty when people are fielding questions, yet you're acting surprise when they're frustrated when you stonewall them!? It's not like we're blaming you for what happened, and sure it's nice that you're keeping anyone else from doing something stupid with the body, but what else?

We're worried and we know that simply logging out of the game won't necessarily change what happened! So of course we're looking for something more substantial than 'no comment'!

[selfconcept]

I'm not surprised. And of course you're angry.

[ Of course he expects it. He knows that his actions have consequences, but he goes through with them anyway. People will just want more and more--they will never be satisfied. People always want more. ]

I don't think you thought over this properly. I work for CC Corp. In situations like this, every single word that I say will be used against me, and by extension the company. We're already seeing it happen, so don't try to refute it.

[ People get hurt all the time. ]

If you want the answers, I'm sure you're smart enough with all your friends to figure out what happened. The only thing that keeps you currently bound is the lack of motivation to search for the answer yourself. Why are you still here? Go do something about it. Pretty pathetic if you ask me.

[ganymed]

Sure you're not. If you weren't, you'd realize it's more than just anger.

As it is, I thought it over properly enough. Otherwise, I would be perfectly content with what you just said and not spoken a single word.

[ So as far as he's concerned, he has. They're in the right to receive more answers regarding this situation, and it is their right to demand them!

...This nonsense about the company and people's words being used against them. Maybe it's true. Maybe it's not. How is he supposed to trust that at all? It sounds like rubbish to him. Excuses.

That's what it is in the end, isn't it? Ganymede is practically bristling at this and realizes swiftly he's going to get nothing he wants out of this. But you know what? Fucking fine. He'll give a lovely parting gift at the very least. ]

So, do me a favor and don't patronize me. Every avenue must be questioned when searching for answers. I already figured I could get the same response as everyone else; the fact I tried at all means I have more than enough motivation.

With that said, and all of our efforts combined, even as we speak, I'd say you're the pathetic one!

[ He hrmps, turning on his heel, and stalking right off. ]

[selfconcept]

[ k ]