→ 001; [voice]

[trashed]

What?!

[He's not really aware that he was being recorded - sure, he'd been messing with the journal, which is probably why it's recording right now. But he's more shocked about the fact that he's alive again.]

But why? [Silence again, for a few minutes as footsteps get farther and then nearer to the journal again.] I was supposed to be--

[Dead.]

This is so pointless!

[He pauses one last time, and then decides that kicking his book would do him good. There's the sound of his foot making contact with it, and then the sound cuts.]

Comments

[Voice | Filtered]

[its_rose_damnit]

[Wow, Sync, such a downer. At least Dist doesn't give half a damn to tell you to cheer the fuck up. He really could care less about someone who's abandoned their own life.]

Indeed... Do try and make the best of it here, Sync. You'll find it much harder to truly end your life in this place than it was on Auldrant. [And he'll end that snippet there. Figure it out, replica.] If you're in good health and lack my assistance, boy, then I suppose I'll end this conversation here.

[Voice | Filtered]

[trashed]

What a shame. [Here he was thinking off he could throw himself into this planet's core and be done with it. Or something.]

Good. I'm getting tired of talking to you guys anyway.

[Voice | Filtered]

[its_rose_damnit]

[Ugh! What a troublesome little whelp - truly one of Van's wretched little dogs. Uncultured, uncivilized, and a right pain in the ass. Dist shuts his journal with a curt snap and sits up. Fine, whatever. If Sync isn't going to take his advice (which he wasn't even obligated to give, mind you!), then that's his prerogative. The dimwitted replica can get frostbite for all he cares.

Van can rescue his stray pup if he so desires. Birds of a feather and all that.]