which is to say that they haven't been here for a long time, but long enough to be figuring out a life that isn't temporary. once the days turned to weeks, it was long enough for yves to start keeping a calendar. and with that calendar came the very, very important task of filling it up to make sure that there's not a single important day missed.
it's as they're off walking to a little cafe for lunch that yves remembers this suddenly, snapping his fingers as the thought hits him—]
Oh! Marci! [ they're ~friendly~ ] When's your birthday? I want to make sure I don't miss it!
[ local fool doesn't even know if the calendar in this new world is the exact same but it's fine it's cool ]
[ it's fine it's cool!! the two of them are on their way for a small lunch, having a small exchange about how they've been settling in. the question is a pleasant little surprise, although it's followed by a small pang of dread in the pit of her stomach.
Mm, well, I started working on a calendar recently so the days don't just all start blending together... and I want to make sure that I keep track of all my friends' birthdays!
[ he tilts his head, as if rattling all the dates around. ]
April... we use the same calendar, so that's good! But you might be older than me...
Mm, should I be speaking more respectfully? But we're friends...
[ as if half the charm of yves' existence isn't the fact that he's just this cheerful and sweet with literally everyone ]
[ marcille smiles warmly. she agrees... he's just a big beautiful dog. he mystifies her sometimes, but his good intentions and earnestness are disarming. it's hard not to like him.
...even when he's dredging up some difficult topics. her eyes circle away from him, her mouth drawing up in a crooked half-smile. ]
Oh, there's no need for that! I'm probably older than you, technically, but it'd feel weird to have you treat me differently now anyway! Don't worry about it!
Mm! Then as long as you're okay with that, I am too. I think I'd have a harder time measuring my words around you at this point anyway.
[ but he would've tried... he would've made an effort... and not done great, but it's the thought that counts
though he does try to be thoughtful about his conversational partner - when her eyes dart away, he almost tries to peer closer at her expression. his hand reaches out to slip his fingers into her palm closest to him as if to try to claim her attention ]
[ please do not remind her of how old she is... if he tried to use honorifics, those are also absent from her world, so the reminder would be stark every time she hears it—a foreign word tacked on to remind her of the breadth between her and the people around her...
she's snapped out of her thoughts as soon as his fingers reach her hand. her heart leaps into her throat, her fingers curl on reflex, and her eyes dart back to him over her pink cheeks. yes, she's (overly) physically affectionate with people she cares for, but yves crosses that territory more quickly than others by nature. it's a comfort while being far from home. ]
Well, um... [ she clears her throat, but she doesn't pull her hand away. ] I do like sweets, so just some cake would be fine! And maybe some sort of seafood dish to go with it.
[ don't worry he's french! mademoiselle marci sounds cute.... but he'd probably only just say it to tease her, more than anything else.
when she looks back at him all red-faced, the sweetness of the expression on her just makes him smile wider, more encouraging. she's so cute, and he doesn't hide the fact that he thinks so ]
A cake! Seafood! You got it—I'll make you a dish you won't forget.
[ HE'S A DISASTER CHEF DON'T ALLOW THIS TO HAPPEN maybe she doesn't know yet... she probably doesn't.... oh god
he swings their hands a little between them, both a little childish and just blatantly doting ]
Mm, my birthday is June 17th. Though I'll be turning twenty... so I suppose I should make the most of it?
anyway he is so cute... innocently so... even if his smile pulls the knot in her stomach. is she mad that he seems to enjoy flustering her, or is this cute aggression? she can't parse that answer before he's offering to cook for her (YIKES!) and swinging their arms like schoolkids. she finally lets their hands join naturally, her fingers locked between his.
she furrows her brow at him. ]
Is being twenty something special where you're from?
[ hmmmmmmm yves slowly realizing that something he said so naturally is probably actively upsetting to other people in real time. his brow furrows a little bit as he considers it, and now it's his turn to look away briefly. when her fingers tangle with his, he only squeezes her hand once reassuringly. ]
[ she stops them right there, whether or not it draws attention to them. forgetting her bashfulness entirely, she brings up his hand to squeeze it in both of hers. ]
yves doesn't seem to mind though—he's a little bit more worried about her reaction than any other people who might be gawking. when she squeezes his hand again, he'll match the gesture. he'll cup her hands in both of his, and gives her one more reassuring little squeeze. or well, what he hopes is one. ]
That's... a two-part question.
[ yves has been cursed in his own way but to answer the first curse: ]
Humans are supposed to live longer than twenty-three years, right? At least that's what I've heard... Well, everyone in our island never makes it past those twenty-three years.
[ which is upsetting to people with normal lifespans, probably, even though to yves it's just all he's ever known. he frowns thoughtfully, brow furrowing as he tries to figure out a way to soften the blow. ]
Um—but for what it's worth, I'm really healthy for my age! So maybe I'll be the exception?
[ everything after never makes it past those twenty-three years reaches marcille as if she were underwater. that dread in her deepens, washes over her like icy water. her grip on yves's hands loosens. only twenty-three years. tall-men are supposed to live until at least sixty. ]
That... It can't be. Only twenty-three? But- But that's so young!
[ she balls her hands into fists in front of her chest. her heart pounds against it, alive with worry and fear. yves, one of her first and closest friends in this place, sweet and teasing and earnest, will be gone in the blink of an eye, never in her life again. ]
Tell me about the curse! There has to be a way to break it, right? Maybe I can't sense it and it could be crazy powerful, but there has to be a way!
[ it's still a bit odd to him, to get this reaction. people in arpéchéle curse their short lifespans, sure enough, but it's not like they interact with people who actually have reasonable lifespans. no one else mourns them or panics or freaks out for them. to yves it's a frustration and there are elements of tragedy but—
he's struck by someone else feeling so raw for him.
she balls her hands into fists by her chest and his hands reach out to gently rest on her arms, steadying ]
Maybe there is. There's a lot I don't know about all this magic stuff—but you do! So you're already giving me hope.
It's going to be okay. Promise. Just breathe a little.
[ it's a slight relief, hearing him say that her magic might be helpful, like he knows enough about this curse to say so. her mind latches onto that possibility the same way it has for many others—any way to stave off death.
the hands on her arms makes her briefly stiffen before her shoulders loosen, as if suddenly bearing a leaden weight. she furrows her brow, determined despite the red rim around her eyes. ]
You have to tell me everything you know about your island's curse. I'll find out how to break it! You can't just die!
[ the word shudders through her. her eyes burn a little. ]
Is it a deterioration? Some kind of disease? How does it even work?!
Um... [ frowns in thought ] Scien would normally be better at explaining this...
[ local science guy amongst a bunch of bumpkins who just think it's a curse. yves will do his best thought, recalling what he's seen in the past. in the present, really. in this daily existence where people just drop dead and no one finds it all that big of a deal. ]
I guess it's both of those...? I think it starts around the chest—people often start coughing and getting weaker around their twentieth birthday. By the time they're twenty-two, they're bedridden. Twenty-three, they're gone.
It's the whole island... but apparently outside the island, people live longer. They get... wrinkly? And gray? Why does that feel rude to say...
[ WERE THEY QUARANTINED? HE DOESN'T KNOW. THEY BARELY HAVE HISTORY BOOKS ]
Umm... no, I guess I don't. It's just always been like this, for at least a hundred years... Though that's based more on what families tell each other.
Relivers were only invented about sixty years ago, so there's not a lot of long-lasting knowledge...
[ there is no relief from anything scien brofiise makes
but yves nods ]
Relivers are... basically, a way to extend your life so you can live past twenty-three? The Institute works with you on all the paperwork and process so that you can create a back-up of your memories, and then when you die, a Reliver body copy is made and then it uploads your memories and personality.
I think maybe... half of the island's adult population is Relivers now?
Though even that body only lasts twenty-three years, so you kind of need to just keep going...
marcille has had some time to acclimate to the newer technology in this world, but the way she processes this sort of science is still slow-going. a copy of a person's body, their memories and personalities all implanted from another place, a failsafe of some kind. at first it brings a chill up her body, a cold fingertip running up along her spine, but then she considers: how different is this from creating recreating someone from their bones and fresh meat? how different is this "backup" from the reimplementation of a soul tied to a body? it's all semantics in the end. the concept is the same. ]
I...
[ she shakes her head slowly, narrowly, and searches over yves's face. he looks entirely normal. she'd never be able to tell if this body is any different from a normal one, and yes, he's perfectly healthy. how could he deteriorate that badly in just three years, enough to die?
she grasps the strap of her back with both hands, just to have something to hold onto. ]
So even if you somehow get these new bodies from this "Institute," the curse will still try to kill you after twenty-three years? That's horrible...! How- How long have you all been dealing with this?
Mm... If Scien's nearly a hundred... then maybe... a few hundred years? [ a pause ] That's hard for me to even think about...
[ given that he can only live not even a fourth of a century
but he watches her movements, fidgety and shocked, and frowns to himself. it's probably hard for other people to parse when they have normal lifespans, and he's understanding very quickly what it means to share this information at all. he hadn't meant to take away from her happiness.
so he'll reach out then, hand falling on top of her head in a friendly, hopefully reassuring little pat ]
I'm still here, you know? I'm not scared. And if I was, then I'm even less worried now that you care so much.
[ marcille catches his wrist the moment his palm meets her head. she draws it away to the side as she steps forward, toeing the line between horrified and outraged at the injustice of it all. ]
How can you be less worried?! What about everyone else here? [ assumes they have other friends. her eyes burn, and her eyelids quiver with the effort to keep them open and stifle her tears. ] What about the people who care about you that have to watch you go?!
[ her eyes go wide. her grip loosens and falls away. her gaze follows it to the ground between them.
any spectators around them quickly shuffle out onto the street to give them room. to anyone else, it may seem like a lovers' squabble. for once, marcille isn't thinking of the optics or implications. the world is a growing, fuzzy blackness around them, leaving only the circle where they stand. ]
Of course you wouldn't. [ she mutters to herself miserably. ] I haven't told you anything about me.
[ yeah they probably have other friends—but regardless of how many friends yves has, his surprised reaction wouldn't change. what about the people who care about him who'd have to watch him go? he hadn't thought that far. he's someone who had only just recently built relationships with people who are willing to follow him, to be in his life for longer than a blip.
and even that was just one person who wasn't here. even for all the friends that yves has, even as much as he likes marcille, he didn't think that he'd be someone she'd remember—even if the idea of it warms him more than anything else. isn't that such a selfish thing? ]
Um... maybe not, but we still have time to learn? [ even if that time is limited in marcille's frame of mind ] But I meant more that...
If you care so much, and you want to help me so much, then I have more reason than ever to have hope for the future. I'm not thinking about the moment when I'm going to go... I'm thinking that I'm lucky to know you.
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birthdays!
which is to say that they haven't been here for a long time, but long enough to be figuring out a life that isn't temporary. once the days turned to weeks, it was long enough for yves to start keeping a calendar. and with that calendar came the very, very important task of filling it up to make sure that there's not a single important day missed.
it's as they're off walking to a little cafe for lunch that yves remembers this suddenly, snapping his fingers as the thought hits him—]
Oh! Marci! [ they're ~friendly~ ] When's your birthday? I want to make sure I don't miss it!
[ local fool doesn't even know if the calendar in this new world is the exact same but it's fine it's cool ]
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she buries it down, eyeing yves curiously. ]
Hm? It's April 19th. Why do you ask?
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[ he tilts his head, as if rattling all the dates around. ]
April... we use the same calendar, so that's good! But you might be older than me...
Mm, should I be speaking more respectfully? But we're friends...
[ as if half the charm of yves' existence isn't the fact that he's just this cheerful and sweet with literally everyone ]
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...even when he's dredging up some difficult topics. her eyes circle away from him, her mouth drawing up in a crooked half-smile. ]
Oh, there's no need for that! I'm probably older than you, technically, but it'd feel weird to have you treat me differently now anyway! Don't worry about it!
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[ but he would've tried... he would've made an effort... and not done great, but it's the thought that counts
though he does try to be thoughtful about his conversational partner - when her eyes dart away, he almost tries to peer closer at her expression. his hand reaches out to slip his fingers into her palm closest to him as if to try to claim her attention ]
Do you know what you'd want for your birthday?
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[ please do not remind her of how old she is... if he tried to use honorifics, those are also absent from her world, so the reminder would be stark every time she hears it—a foreign word tacked on to remind her of the breadth between her and the people around her...
she's snapped out of her thoughts as soon as his fingers reach her hand. her heart leaps into her throat, her fingers curl on reflex, and her eyes dart back to him over her pink cheeks. yes, she's (overly) physically affectionate with people she cares for, but yves crosses that territory more quickly than others by nature. it's a comfort while being far from home. ]
Well, um... [ she clears her throat, but she doesn't pull her hand away. ] I do like sweets, so just some cake would be fine! And maybe some sort of seafood dish to go with it.
W-What about you? When's your birthday?
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when she looks back at him all red-faced, the sweetness of the expression on her just makes him smile wider, more encouraging. she's so cute, and he doesn't hide the fact that he thinks so ]
A cake! Seafood! You got it—I'll make you a dish you won't forget.
[ HE'S A DISASTER CHEF DON'T ALLOW THIS TO HAPPEN maybe she doesn't know yet... she probably doesn't.... oh god
he swings their hands a little between them, both a little childish and just blatantly doting ]
Mm, my birthday is June 17th. Though I'll be turning twenty... so I suppose I should make the most of it?
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anyway he is so cute... innocently so... even if his smile pulls the knot in her stomach. is she mad that he seems to enjoy flustering her, or is this cute aggression? she can't parse that answer before he's offering to cook for her (YIKES!) and swinging their arms like schoolkids. she finally lets their hands join naturally, her fingers locked between his.
she furrows her brow at him. ]
Is being twenty something special where you're from?
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[ hmmmmmmm yves slowly realizing that something he said so naturally is probably actively upsetting to other people in real time. his brow furrows a little bit as he considers it, and now it's his turn to look away briefly. when her fingers tangle with his, he only squeezes her hand once reassuringly. ]
Mm... Maybe it won't be the same here...?
[ wow... optimistic thinking... ]
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[ she squeezes his hand back. and doesn't stop. she's also staring at him really hard. there's something vaguely threatening about it. ]
What's "it"?
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[ he's not buying time (he is) ]
I... guess you could call it a curse? [ a beat of hesitation, then a frown. ] No, it's definitely a curse.
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[ she stops them right there, whether or not it draws attention to them. forgetting her bashfulness entirely, she brings up his hand to squeeze it in both of hers. ]
You've been cursed? How?!
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yves doesn't seem to mind though—he's a little bit more worried about her reaction than any other people who might be gawking. when she squeezes his hand again, he'll match the gesture. he'll cup her hands in both of his, and gives her one more reassuring little squeeze. or well, what he hopes is one. ]
That's... a two-part question.
[ yves has been cursed in his own way but to answer the first curse: ]
Humans are supposed to live longer than twenty-three years, right? At least that's what I've heard... Well, everyone in our island never makes it past those twenty-three years.
[ which is upsetting to people with normal lifespans, probably, even though to yves it's just all he's ever known. he frowns thoughtfully, brow furrowing as he tries to figure out a way to soften the blow. ]
Um—but for what it's worth, I'm really healthy for my age! So maybe I'll be the exception?
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That... It can't be. Only twenty-three? But- But that's so young!
[ she balls her hands into fists in front of her chest. her heart pounds against it, alive with worry and fear. yves, one of her first and closest friends in this place, sweet and teasing and earnest, will be gone in the blink of an eye, never in her life again. ]
Tell me about the curse! There has to be a way to break it, right? Maybe I can't sense it and it could be crazy powerful, but there has to be a way!
no subject
[ it's still a bit odd to him, to get this reaction. people in arpéchéle curse their short lifespans, sure enough, but it's not like they interact with people who actually have reasonable lifespans. no one else mourns them or panics or freaks out for them. to yves it's a frustration and there are elements of tragedy but—
he's struck by someone else feeling so raw for him.
she balls her hands into fists by her chest and his hands reach out to gently rest on her arms, steadying ]
Maybe there is. There's a lot I don't know about all this magic stuff—but you do! So you're already giving me hope.
It's going to be okay. Promise. Just breathe a little.
no subject
the hands on her arms makes her briefly stiffen before her shoulders loosen, as if suddenly bearing a leaden weight. she furrows her brow, determined despite the red rim around her eyes. ]
You have to tell me everything you know about your island's curse. I'll find out how to break it! You can't just die!
[ the word shudders through her. her eyes burn a little. ]
Is it a deterioration? Some kind of disease? How does it even work?!
no subject
[ local science guy amongst a bunch of bumpkins who just think it's a curse. yves will do his best thought, recalling what he's seen in the past. in the present, really. in this daily existence where people just drop dead and no one finds it all that big of a deal. ]
I guess it's both of those...? I think it starts around the chest—people often start coughing and getting weaker around their twentieth birthday. By the time they're twenty-two, they're bedridden. Twenty-three, they're gone.
It's the whole island... but apparently outside the island, people live longer. They get... wrinkly? And gray? Why does that feel rude to say...
no subject
[ marcille brings her hands up over her mouth, fingertips hovering just short of her lips. ]
So... you were all quarantined on your island? Because of this curse?
[ where is scien when you need him.... ]
Do you know why?
no subject
[ WERE THEY QUARANTINED? HE DOESN'T KNOW. THEY BARELY HAVE HISTORY BOOKS ]
Umm... no, I guess I don't. It's just always been like this, for at least a hundred years... Though that's based more on what families tell each other.
Relivers were only invented about sixty years ago, so there's not a lot of long-lasting knowledge...
no subject
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but yves nods ]
Relivers are... basically, a way to extend your life so you can live past twenty-three? The Institute works with you on all the paperwork and process so that you can create a back-up of your memories, and then when you die, a Reliver body copy is made and then it uploads your memories and personality.
I think maybe... half of the island's adult population is Relivers now?
Though even that body only lasts twenty-three years, so you kind of need to just keep going...
no subject
marcille has had some time to acclimate to the newer technology in this world, but the way she processes this sort of science is still slow-going. a copy of a person's body, their memories and personalities all implanted from another place, a failsafe of some kind. at first it brings a chill up her body, a cold fingertip running up along her spine, but then she considers: how different is this from creating recreating someone from their bones and fresh meat? how different is this "backup" from the reimplementation of a soul tied to a body? it's all semantics in the end. the concept is the same. ]
I...
[ she shakes her head slowly, narrowly, and searches over yves's face. he looks entirely normal. she'd never be able to tell if this body is any different from a normal one, and yes, he's perfectly healthy. how could he deteriorate that badly in just three years, enough to die?
she grasps the strap of her back with both hands, just to have something to hold onto. ]
So even if you somehow get these new bodies from this "Institute," the curse will still try to kill you after twenty-three years? That's horrible...! How- How long have you all been dealing with this?
no subject
[ given that he can only live not even a fourth of a century
but he watches her movements, fidgety and shocked, and frowns to himself. it's probably hard for other people to parse when they have normal lifespans, and he's understanding very quickly what it means to share this information at all. he hadn't meant to take away from her happiness.
so he'll reach out then, hand falling on top of her head in a friendly, hopefully reassuring little pat ]
I'm still here, you know? I'm not scared. And if I was, then I'm even less worried now that you care so much.
no subject
How can you be less worried?! What about everyone else here? [ assumes they have other friends. her eyes burn, and her eyelids quiver with the effort to keep them open and stifle her tears. ] What about the people who care about you that have to watch you go?!
[ her eyes go wide. her grip loosens and falls away. her gaze follows it to the ground between them.
any spectators around them quickly shuffle out onto the street to give them room. to anyone else, it may seem like a lovers' squabble. for once, marcille isn't thinking of the optics or implications. the world is a growing, fuzzy blackness around them, leaving only the circle where they stand. ]
Of course you wouldn't. [ she mutters to herself miserably. ] I haven't told you anything about me.
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and even that was just one person who wasn't here. even for all the friends that yves has, even as much as he likes marcille, he didn't think that he'd be someone she'd remember—even if the idea of it warms him more than anything else. isn't that such a selfish thing? ]
Um... maybe not, but we still have time to learn? [ even if that time is limited in marcille's frame of mind ] But I meant more that...
If you care so much, and you want to help me so much, then I have more reason than ever to have hope for the future. I'm not thinking about the moment when I'm going to go... I'm thinking that I'm lucky to know you.
[ before the end comes, whenever that is ]
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jingle jesters back here late
jingle jangles with you i'm so happy i'm canon familiar now AND MARCILLE IS BLONDE
SHE'S BLONDE AND PERFECT!!!! protects her from yves' cooking
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