entranceway | [005; audio; open]

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[005; audio; open]

[ There's no warning as the audio starts, and it seems very likely that River isn't actually addressing the network at large at all. It cuts in mid sentence, to the rustling sound of movement and near incoherent rambling from River. ]

-but it wasn't meant to go like this. What went wrong? Something went wrong, was it her calculations? The numbers twisted and broke and now so much is lost and how are they supposed to find out why? Pushed too hard and too fast, why did he let her try? Why did I try?

[ She stops talking very abruptly, exhales slowly, and then for the first time actually sounds like she's talking to the network, like it isn't just an accidental pick up of a private conversation featuring one. ]

She's sorry. She didn't- it wasn't meant to happen. So, so sorry.

[ Without any indication of who she's apologising to, she cuts the feed. ]

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That's for you to decide. It's not a choice anyone can make for you.

[ Except, maybe, for your dear puppeteer. ]

I'm hardly the man to ask about morality or when to stop before the damage becomes irreversible. My advice to you would be more useless than anything your fretful mind can come up with.

Of my limited abilities I can make some tasty crepes, though. They'll be waiting for you in my shop.

It wasn't a choice she made willingly. Didn't think there would be a loss. We were just looking.

[ ~~obviously the most qualified for these decisions~~

Honestly though, River has been doing a fantastic job of avoiding just about everyone. She's good at running and even better at hiding when she wants to be, and she's managed to keep away from everyone so far. And then Zacharie offers her crepes, and she just...stops.

Goddammit. ]

Five, maybe ten.

[ That's as descriptive as her response gets. She uses that full ten promised minutes to first make her way closer, and then lurk about near the shop as she tries to decide whether or not she wants to approach. She's not dealing with a brain full of Sam's memories any better than she had been before, she's still just as stressed and just as torn up about the guilt as she has been since the incident happened.

She goes inside anyway though, and she doesn't exactly need a map to help her find the door. Even without the additional help, the sign is hard to miss. Hesitant and totally unsure of how good an idea this is, she waits until those ten minutes are fully up before knocking on his door. ]

[ The door swings open on its own accord.

Inside the shelves are stocked like a survivalist bunker with a particular interest in baseball. Bottled water, dried food, gas masks, baseball bats, catchers masks, bottles of smoke (???), just to name a few. Then comes the weird shit. On a shelf behind the counter sit a jar of dim, flickering light.

Like every video game with shop merchants (with the exception of Tom Nook and his following you around the fucking store), Zacharie stands behind the counter waiting for the customers to engage him. Her only real greeting is a turret he traded with Chell, which coos I see you when she enters. COMFORTING.

So that's enough scenery. The crepes are sitting at the edge of the counter. Warm. Sugary. Topped with fruit. Inviting. Zacharie's just gonna be here chilling in silence. He's not the type to force a lengthy conversation (god knows what would have happened if he'd done that to the Batter), and from the sounds of things, River might not be in the mood for a game of 20 Questions. ]

[ At first she just looks around a little, poking idly at some of the more curious things on the shelves. The jar of smoke gets a full two minutes of inspection, but she hesitates just short of opening it before placing it back in its original space, squinting a little before moving on. By the time she makes her way to the counter she's had a very thorough look at those shelves, and even as she gets there the flickering light jar gets a little more of her attention. Really, this place is fascinating, and if she wasn't currently pre-disposed with...all of Sam Winchester's memories filtering through her mind like a scratched record, she'd be even more curious.

As it is, she looks at the crepes for a moment before turning to look at Zacharie, and she frowns at him for a moment before gesturing to the plate. ]

So kind, more than a lot of people would afford her right now. More than anyone should, given the circumstances. Why?

[ Because there's got to be a catch, right? There's always a catch. ]

[ She isn't wrong. There's always a catch. For the Batter everything came at a price, even if it was an intangible one: a futile race he could never win, executing a series of complicated puzzles to get his picture taken riding a roller coaster with Zacharie (which would probably be humiliating if the Batter gave any fucks about anything beyond purification). For poor little Hugo and his dear Sucre, his sympathy and kindness and love did not save them. He stood by and let them die. He knew what was going to happen and fostered the path of their killer.

For River it may be the same. You can take the NPC out of the game, but you can't take the amorality and nihilistic apathy out of the NPC.

To her question he simply give a non-committal shrug. ]

Why not? I'm designed to be helpful. [ Usually to a genocidal baseball player but in Wonderland he has a few more options. ] And if that explanation doesn't suffice, let's leave it at "you remind me of someone I once knew."

[ Except River wears more than a pair of pants and pasties. ]

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[005; audio; open]

text;

text => action; fite me bro :E

action IT IS A FIGHT I WOULD LOSE

action DAMN RIGHT

action