[Lobelia can't help but smile. Hansa knows how to cut to the heart of it, doesn't he?]
Would it matter if he did? I've never asked anyone to care— not Ramuda, not anyone else in this world. That is one weight I refuse to be burdened with.
And yet here you are, eating yourself inside over it.
[He won't be less than blunt about this.]
He blamed you, and you feel like you let him down because of it. I said a remark the last time we met that disappointed you. You're one of the people in this world that is more burdened by the thoughts of the people you like than you tell yourself.
[...That's true, isn't it? That's a flaw. A weak point in his armor. That isn't a virtue by any stretch of the imagination— not as far as Lobelia is concerned.
His brow knits. He's too spread thin from exhaustion to concern himself with appearances. Of course he's upset about it. He knows what it feels like to be upset.]
It's a problème I can't seem to rid myself of. I didn't ask for this.
[A low laugh, but he almost looks a little fond as he says:]
This is a "problem" that comes with having a human heart. It's awful to feel, I know. But it, too, is a beautiful thing. Your care will bring you happiness. I know it.
[Lobelia can at least manage a dramatic sigh... because really, for as much as Lobelia has wanted to feel normal, the reality of having connections to others is a lot less pleasant. Life was easier when the only pains he took on were his own.]
...I do hope you're right. Unfortunately, I would like to believe what you say.
[To be filled with something like hope? Terrifying. If he weren't so tired, he might consider shaking Hansa for his audacity.]
You really are a troublesome man. Is that what makes you happy? Digging through the mud until you uncover the good in others?
Unfortunately? You should say "fortunately". You're going to hurt my feelings.
[Hehehe.]
Me? I'm just happy in general. [CAITIE VOICE WHEN IS HE NOT HAPPY THAT WELL ADJUSTED BITCH] But it does bring a sparkle to my eye to cause something like this to happen.
I think I am certain. It's something that feels solid, like a rock. I might be sad, angry, or annoyed. But there's a level of satisfaction about my life and where I am. I feel fulfilled by my faith, and the people around me.
[He hums a little.]
I guess...I feel full, so to speak. Like there's nothing missing.
[Lobelia listens, silent, almost too still... and then he sighs, draping his dramatic self across the couch. Why must God hate him when he's been nothing but a good boy his whole life................]
Ah, but it would be so simple, wouldn't it? Je t'envie! Meanwhile, I have nothing but space to fill. A few more holes and I may vanish entirely...
[He peers at Hansa.]
...You recall what I've asked you to do for me, non?
Heh! Bien, bien! I would be disappointed if you thought so easily of killing me.
[If he failed to leave an impression on Hansa, he'd be incredibly offended. Enough to haunt him from the depths of hell, probably.]
...Well, promise you won't forget it. It's never a bad idea to have a contingency plan, oui? I know you care for the others and their wellbeing as well.
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[Sorry, that gentleness is actually becoming something more stern.]
Does Ramuda care about what you feel? Or is he happy to let you throw your pity party by yourself?
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Would it matter if he did? I've never asked anyone to care— not Ramuda, not anyone else in this world. That is one weight I refuse to be burdened with.
[And yet it drags him down. It staggers him.]
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[He won't be less than blunt about this.]
He blamed you, and you feel like you let him down because of it. I said a remark the last time we met that disappointed you. You're one of the people in this world that is more burdened by the thoughts of the people you like than you tell yourself.
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His brow knits. He's too spread thin from exhaustion to concern himself with appearances. Of course he's upset about it. He knows what it feels like to be upset.]
It's a problème I can't seem to rid myself of. I didn't ask for this.
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[A low laugh, but he almost looks a little fond as he says:]
This is a "problem" that comes with having a human heart. It's awful to feel, I know. But it, too, is a beautiful thing. Your care will bring you happiness. I know it.
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...I do hope you're right. Unfortunately, I would like to believe what you say.
[To be filled with something like hope? Terrifying. If he weren't so tired, he might consider shaking Hansa for his audacity.]
You really are a troublesome man. Is that what makes you happy? Digging through the mud until you uncover the good in others?
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[Hehehe.]
Me? I'm just happy in general. [CAITIE VOICE WHEN IS HE NOT HAPPY THAT WELL ADJUSTED BITCH] But it does bring a sparkle to my eye to cause something like this to happen.
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Hm. I can only imagine.
[Truly. Does it feel good to help others? Maybe Lobelia hasn't done enough to help, otherwise he'd surely know.]
How can you be certain what you feel is happiness? Is it really that self-evident?
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[He hums a little.]
I guess...I feel full, so to speak. Like there's nothing missing.
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Ah, but it would be so simple, wouldn't it? Je t'envie! Meanwhile, I have nothing but space to fill. A few more holes and I may vanish entirely...
[He peers at Hansa.]
...You recall what I've asked you to do for me, non?
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[And he's simply staring at him for that last question, expressionless, before he states:]
I do. Does it mean I like to think about it? No.
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[If he failed to leave an impression on Hansa, he'd be incredibly offended. Enough to haunt him from the depths of hell, probably.]
...Well, promise you won't forget it. It's never a bad idea to have a contingency plan, oui? I know you care for the others and their wellbeing as well.
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[LIKE...COME ON, MAN]
Besides. Who else could I aggravate with my bad French?
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[Please Father, stop tempting him to add more sins to his bingo card. He's going for a blackout here.]
Have you considered studying in earnest? You have the tongue for it. You never know when another language may aid you in your travels.
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...Hm, you really think so? ¡Qué alegría! But if you insist. What words or phrases should I learn first?
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Hm! How about L'habit ne fait pas le moine? Ah, or in your case, L'soutane ne fait pas le père. Oh! Should I teach you how to swear?
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[He's grinning, though.]
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[Lobelia sits up for this. He's gotta lean in, all conspiratorial.]
Don't think my language so crude, now. Wordplay is an art, oui? If you want to insult someone without cutting too deeply, call them andouille.
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The sausage?
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[...]
I can call a dick a dick, Lobelia.
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[Wow!!! Who let this vulgar trollop in here? Lobelia swats Hansa's leg.]
How am I to teach you my language if you think with such a vulgar mind?
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Then what does it mean? Besides sausage.
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I guess you'd use pendejo as a similar one from mine.
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