Someone's a little salty at being brought out of retirement.

[meteorrains]

Whatever it is, I'm not interested.

[You mad at being brought out of retirement, bro?]

No. [You so are.] You stopped for a reason, right? It'd be best for both of us if you try and remember it.

[Come on, Cloud. We both know that's not going to happen. When have you ever been that lucky?]

Comments

[only_half_a_god]

Verily, mortals of such a sort art trifle.

[Fou-Lu sighs, and shrugs just a little with a shake of his head.]

However, they recall we "muses" just the same. A term called "nostalgia" We think? Or, mayhap, more than that.

'Tis a mite uncanny, this frivolous activity.

[meteorrains]

[No. No he's pretty sure it's just his mun liking to cause him misery.

He could be wrong, but he doubts he is. Highly, highly doubts.]

She could have picked someone else. It doesn't always have to be me.

[only_half_a_god]

Mayhap only thou canst.... We art uncertain of the word. Void? Desire?

Even if 'tis only for amusement at thine agony, given thy canon.

[meteorrains]

Still could have left me out of it.

[Where's the fun in that?]

Does yours do the same thing?

[Please tell him it isn't just him.]

[only_half_a_god]

Aye, but, almost strangely, she has yet to properly torment Us.

Admittedly, for We as an Unchanging One, mayhap that be the reason.

After all, wouldst it not be amusing to bring Us, a god, to Our knees?

[There is no gloating, only calm fact.]

But nay, she torments others. Including another one of thou. One whom bathed in "lifestream" and never... fully recovered from it.

Mortal minds art truly strange.

[meteorrains]

Consider yourself lucky.

[It's been years since he's been properly tortured and he still has nightmares. He really doesn't want to see the same thing happen to anyone else.]

One who... [He really needed to stop falling into the lifestream.] Strange. Right. [That is so not the word he would have used.]

Guess it always is me.

[only_half_a_god]

[More like Fou-Lu couldn't think of the right word at the right time.]

Not.. always.

[There's a particularly pinched, even angry expression that flits across the god's face.]

...Only the more vulnerable, fragile. It also seems entirely according to whimsy.

Compared to that other self she has, this particular "muse" named Frisk has it much, much worse.

[It gives him chills, and that's saying something to a guy who had his love interest shot at him as literal cannon fodder.]