Life sucks and then you die and become a ghost and maybe possess a chipmunk

[murimurimuri]

[Welp, we're dead and I'm depressed.]

Comments

[staunton]

[ oh for fuck's sake-- ]

The hell, Simon?

[ You weren't supposed to die too. ]

[murimurimuri]

[Simon doesn't have a body anymore, but out of force of habit, he tries to lift his head anyway to look at Horace. But he doesn't say anything to that. He doesn't see a lot of point in talking about it.]

[staunton]

Well, that didn't go as planned at all. Fuck.

[murimurimuri]

. . .

We never stood a chance to begin with.

[staunton]

I knew it was gonna be a risky gambit but I didn't think it'd end like this. I hope that guy rots in hell for that.

[murimurimuri]

Great. We can all rot there together.

[staunton]

[ Dryly: ]

At least there's no fire and brimstone here. But I haven't seen any fluffy clouds or a choir of angels either, so who knows what sort of afterlife this is supposed to be.

[murimurimuri]

A dark and empty one. It's not too far from how I've always imagined it.

[staunton]

So what are we gonna do now? [ He asks, as he begins to take off the neck brace. ]

At least I can get rid of this thing. Guess ghosts don't have to worry about neck injuries.

[murimurimuri]

I don't know.

[Tugs at the clown frills around his neck, but doesn't actually bother to take them off.]

[staunton]

Do you need a moment alone to...I don't know, process the whole being dead thing?

[murimurimuri]

[Pauses for a long moment.]

...It doesn't matter anymore.

[staunton]

[ Knightley is quiet for an equally long moment. ]

...Simon. How much longer are you going to pretend you don't hate me?

[murimurimuri]

...Until right now, I suppose.

[staunton]

[ Ouch, he didn't even try to deny it. ]

You acted as a middleman between me and Dogen, didn't you? That's why his game looked the same as ours.

[murimurimuri]

That's right. He and I have been playing for awhile now, so it was easy to make the switch.

[staunton]

And you knew Roland would assume there was a connection between me and Dogen when she found the chisel. In other words, you set me up.

[ He bristles, hands tightening at his sides. ]

Why?

[murimurimuri]

[Standing up, straightening himself, and putting on his best game face.]

You said it yourself — I hate you. I hate you for a lot of reasons. I even hate you for not knowing why I hate you.

Why, you ask? Well, we've been friends a long time, so I'll give you a hint: When were you going to tell me about your father?

[staunton]

My father? [ He pauses for a moment, uneasy (not because of this topic in particular, but because his friend flat-out said he hates him), turning the ring on his finger with his thumb. ]

I...I didn't think you'd be interested in hearing me talk about him. Not with your parents still being nowhere to be found.

[murimurimuri]

You see, it's a little embarrassing now, but I had something of a misunderstanding on that topic. All I could remember about my dad was that he was a dessert maker, so when I heard one had been killed, I pretty much assumed the wrong thing. In other words, I was convinced for years that your father had been the one to murder mine.

[staunton]

And that's why you hate me? For the sins of my father? Don't hold me accountable for something I had nothing to do with.

[murimurimuri]

No. I told you, that was just a hint. I hate you for something you did.

Look at it this way: Masters went to prison for murdering Hoquet. I'm sure you know that much, right? So why would I assume that the real culprit was your father?

[staunton]

I haven't done anything.

[ ...sorry, did you say anything else, Simon.

must be selective hearing or something. ]

[murimurimuri]

Maybe you've conveniently forgotten what you did, but I haven't. Here's another hint: How do I know Dogen?

[staunton]

Beats me. I have no idea how you know a blind assassin, and that story you gave me earlier doesn't hold water.