damned_bulletin | (Written In Elegant, Old Fashioned Handwriting)

I imagine that we do. Very little is optional in this place. I... would rather not find out as well.

If it's not my family, then they'll be trying to pass off strangers as being related to me.

If it is my family...I saw them killed. I wish they were still alive, but they're not. And what's dead should stay dead.

Even if it looks like your family, it isn't them. The dead never come back properly, it's a lesson that humans never learn.

But if it looks like my family, someone actually -

I've seen what happens to people who don't behave themselves here, but if an imposter shows up wearing my sister's face, I don't think I'll be able to hold back.

I don't know. I suppose we won't know until it happens.

For what it's worth... I hope you aren't forced to deal with that.

I appreciate it.

Why don't you let the dead decide that for themselves, huh?

I've had one of these family visits. Messed with my head pretty bad. They looked like my family, sounded like my family, acted like my family... but they were fake. They didn't know they were, though. I dunno if they were brainwashed or what, but they honestly believed they were my wife and kid, and that I was really sick and in a normal mental home.

It's bad enough that I didn't die with them. If they actually came back, how would I explain myself? What could I possibly say?

And I don't want fakes. After seeing them die, I don't think I can see them alive again without losing my grip entirely. Especially if I know they're fakes painted to look like what I lost by some [unintelligible scribble here, probably an improper word that either Dias or the staff decided against having on the board]

I wonder if those who are supposed to be dead here (I'm still not sure if I count among that number) are fakes as well, and don't know it. If there are fakes out there -

Look, you can't blame yourself. I don't know what happened, but unless you killed them yourself, it's not your fault. You say you're sorry, becuse sometimes things happen.

You just have to deal with it. It's not easy, but it's what they do. They get in your head. And you've got to just suck it up.

I'm not a fake.

If I couldn't protect them, I should have died with them. If it had been your family, I doubt you'd be so philosophical.

It would be easier to deal with if we could get to the person responsible for all this.

Ah. You're one of them, then? I see why you objected now.

Let's just say I'm looking at it from the other side of the equasion. Your family would rather you were alive.

Yeah, good luck to you on that. It's not gonna happen anytime soon.

Yeah, I am. Died and left my family behind. Kind of glad I've got a second chance now. And I've got a friend who pulled the same 'I should have protected you' thing. And I called him on his bullshit. You can't save everybody.

My family is dead. They don't have any preferences anymore.

That's what makes it hard to deal with.

You can if you're strong enough.

So what? You think that's it? You think just because they're gone, the fact that they loved you doesn't matter anymore? You think they'd rather you were dead, too? Lemme ask you something. If you died, would you want them with you, or would you want them blaming themselves?

I know. But we can't let them get in our heads. They got into mine for a little bit...

No, you can't. No one is that strong. There are forces that no man can stand against, no matter how strong he is. We all think we can, and we think if we just push ourselves, if we just did one more thing...

All that matters is that they're dead, and if I'd been stronger they would be alive.

They were just bandits. I killed them with ease a year or two later, once I'd trained myself and caught up with them. I just wasn't strong enough when I needed to be.

But you weren't, and that happens. You're gonna waste your life wallowing in self pity? How could you have predicted how strong you'd need to be and when?

We aren't born strong. How old were you when this happened?

I haven't wasted it. But I don't need to forgive myself to make use of it, either.

Seventeen. Old enough to use a sword. Old enough to have been able to fight a few bandits drunk on pride and thoughtless violence, if I'd bothered to learn how.

Seventeen? You were a kid!

If you don't enjoy life, it's a waste. There's no point in living without enjoying your life. You're just existing otherwise.

Many in my world learn to fight or get married before or around that age. Perhaps your customs are different. But I was going to be an artist.

Then you're saying I'd be better off dead? I thought you were arguing against that.

Yeah, things are different where you come from. But it's still no reason to be down on yourself the way you are. It's not honoring your family's memory any. How is an artist supposed to be able to stand up to armed men, huh?

No, I'm saying you're wasting the life you've got.

Exactly. I was no help at all - just a liability. I wasn't even worth finishing off.

There's not much else to do with it. I don't have anyone to be with, to protect, even just to earn money for. ~~I've found a few people here, but who knows how long that will last.~~

How could you expect to have been a help? You can't predict the future, how were you to know?

Why not live it for yourself?

All of us were weak. Cecille was only nine, but my parents and I - there's no excuse. Any one of us should have been able to do something, but instead we were crushed.

There's nothing I want to live for. But I'm not so weak I'll invite death in, either. Existence is the best I can manage.

So blame the bastards that were to cowardly to face someone that was a match for them. Don't blame yourself. Would you blame your parents, since they weren't strong enough either?

Then find something. If you aren't gonna life, you may as well give up.

Don't think I don't blame the bandits. But if we'd been stronger, the bandits wouldn't have found us such easy prey, and my family might still be alive.

I tried that once. I won't be that weak again. I'll either die fighting or not at all.

(Written In Elegant, Old Fashioned Handwriting)

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