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constellation 1

Summary:

"Researcher, please," they almost-whisper. "Hate me all you want for not telling you and I'll deserve it, but I– I can't. I can't. I don't want to say it again."

Ah.

You swallow. You organize your puzzle pieces in your head, and fit them together; take it apart, reorganize them differently, try again; try again—it's the same shape, every time. You agree, you think, that it should be Siffrin that tells you of his experience, but Loop was involved too. Loop is feeling effects too. Loop has their own side in this.

 

(In the middle of the final night spent at the Clocktower, Odile speaks with the mysterious new addition to her party.)

Notes:

hi so. hi. this is actually part of a larger future project—a typical loop-joins-the-party fic except its post onehat ending. fun!
this is a pretty important conversation, but the fic is entirely siffrin pov and he is..asleep. so i wrote this for reference and then ended up really liking it! and it stands on its own pretty well, so! i figured id post it! :3

WARNINGS: just suicide really

enjoyyy!!!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

The door creaks open, and a bright light pours in. New lungs breathing, shaky, enter your perception.

Loop.

 

You'd been struggling to sleep anyway—no matter how vital Loop has been in the little time you've known them, they are still essentially a stranger, and you are on edge giving a stranger such access to your family—and Loop is making it rather difficult to continue trying. So you open your eyes and prop yourself up on your elbows.

Being in the middle bed, you have a very good view of them in the doorway. They're staring wide-eyed at Siffrin lying in the bed to your left, their right, gripping the doorway with both hands. When you reach for and slip on your glasses, you realize Loop is trembling. And their eyes look afraid.

 

You slip out of bed and approach them. Once directly to their left, you whisper, "Loop?"

They jump out of their skin at that as if you'd been entirely out of their view. "AH," they yelp, then dart backward into the hallway. They end in a subtly defensive stance. They whisper, "A-ah, hi, O‐ Researcher."

You follow them out and close the bedroom door behind you. "Couldn't sleep?" you ask.

"Oh, ah, no, I was– I was stargazing, actually. Just decided to check on my little sleeping beauty, make sure he hadn't died again!" Their eyes close into high curves, they stand up straight, they clasp their hands low behind them. The picture of innocence.

You hum. "Me neither." You move past them to head downstairs.

 

Loop sputters behind you for a moment but follows. Follows you all the way into the kitchen, actually, and hovers behind you as you fill up and turn on the Crafted kettle, and as you rifle through the ingredients bag to find your teas.

 

You ask, as you search, "Which flavors would you like?"

"Wh-what?"

"Of tea. Do you have a preference? Something calming for sleep, maybe?"

"Um," Loop says. You hear them shuffling behind you. Their skin dragging against itself produces an odd dry sound, not unlike dragging an edge across fabric. That's the best you can describe it, at least. It's very quiet—for the most part, they make almost no sounds at all. "You really don't have to! I'm not sure it'll have any effects on me, really, I'd hate to waste your tea–"

"Shush," you say.

They shush.

"It's worth trying," you continue, "even if it doesn't work. I have plenty to spare." You turn your head to smile at them. "These aren't my fanciest—those stay in my bags."

…They nod. Good. They do seem unsure still, though. "Ah, in that case… something bitter. And relaxing."

You nod back.

 

You find your desired leaves quickly. Loop says nothing, just watches and watches. You prepare the cups then take them to the table. You place yours somewhat opposite the kitchen; Loop's goes to the chair half on the tiles marking the kitchen perimeter. You, quietly, will have them cornered.

Loop takes the seat you've assigned them as you take yours. You sip your tea first—lovely, of course—and they quickly after do the same as if following your lead. They blink thoughtfully a couple times.

 

Then they tilt their head and smile. "It's wonderful, thank you, Researcher!"

You dip your head to acknowledge.

"Why were you really watching Siffrin?" you ask. You do your best to keep your tone neutral, not accusatory but simply curious.

"Mm," Loop grumbles quietly.

"Loop," you say. "I want to trust you. Please be trustworthy."

They stay tense for a moment, but they sigh after and avert their gaze. "I… recalled a particularly unpleasant loop. …That's all."

You hum and sip your tea. "Elaborate?"

They hesitate at length, gripping their cup in both hands. Their eyes shift as if searching for something on the floor to their right. Then, "…I think you'd rather hear this from him."

"If it's bothering you so much, I still believe you should talk about it," you say. You silently thank Isabeau for his tips on pressing these things without being… too firm. Now if only he would learn to be more firm.

Loop turns their eyes to their tea, looking pensive, and lifts it to their face. It's brought back to a boil almost as soon as it reaches their light, but they don't seem to care. "It's just… strange, having to tell someone the most efficient ways to die." They drink, somehow.

 

You are very curious to know what is under all that light; you wonder how they would feel about having their face touched. Based on how they reacted to Siffrin tickling them, and what you know about the loops, Siffrin, and Loop, and the relationships between the three, you wouldn't be surprised if their situation with touch was on par with or perhaps even worse than Siffrin's.

Ah, but that's not relevant.

 

The most efficient way to die…

You ask, "What are those ways? If you don't mind telling me."

They shrug. "You won't use them. It's fine." They take a final sip and lower their cup. They don't set it down. It hovers in their hands over the table, still a quarter full, still gently bubbling.

Despite their agreement, Loop says nothing.

"Loop?" you prompt, doing your best to be gentle.

They blink harshly. They breathe in, and out, and their helpful persona switches on like a light and straightens their posture. The teacup is set down with a small clunk. "Well," they start brightly, "Tears are the easiest. I already told you about those when you were going after my stardust. There's a banana peel in town, useful for skipping forward—I'm sure it's been picked up by now. Stardust found that one all by himself, silly thing." They giggle quietly, to themself but all for you. Their finger traces the rim of their cup. "Let's see, let's see… Ah, I think that's it, everything else is either inconvenient or unreliable."

You feel… like they're leaving something out. "Siffrin told us about the tears, yes." Ah, no, you've got it. "He said he found he could loop with them on his own."

Loop laughs and waves dismissively. "What, you expect him to tell you about every conversation we have?"

Definitely hiding something. You lean forward slightly. "No, but I do expect you to be transparent with me when it concerns Siffrin's well-being."

That gets them. They slump, and search the floor like before, and bring a hand up to rest their head on. It almost looks like a redirected move to fidget with their non-existent hair. Their voice is soft when they speak, unsure and hesitant. "I… I really do think it's best if he tells you himself. If nothing's happened yet… I don't think he's in danger."

"You don't think?"

They turn their head fully away and fold their arms together. "Researcher, please," they almost-whisper. "Hate me all you want for not telling you and I'll deserve it, but I– I can't. I can't. I don't want to say it again."

Ah.

 

You swallow. You organize your puzzle pieces in your head, and fit them together; take it apart, reorganize them differently, try again; try again—it's the same shape, every time. You agree, you think, that it should be Siffrin that tells you of his experience, but Loop was involved too. Loop is feeling effects too. Loop has their own side in this.

 

"You were made to instruct Siffrin on– how to effectively commit suicide," you say. You keep your voice steady as possible, but it falters still, and nearly falls away on the final word.

Loop exhales shakily. It's abrupt—you realize they hadn't been breathing before, hadn't even inhaled. Not since their last in, out. "I'm sorry," they say. They sound like a scared teenager, with their words pitched up and uneven from the stranglehold of fear.

You make yourself as gentle as possible. "Loop. Finish your tea."

They nod and do as told, movements jerky and stiff. They're still afraid. They tip the tea back like a shot and it sizzles. As they set the now empty cup back down, they say, "I'll– I'll go. I'm sorry."

You stand at the same time they do. They step back, eyes wide. You keep both hands on the table. "That's not what I meant." You're scaring them. Gems, you're not good at this. Siffrin will be distraught if you frighten them off. You close your eyes and take a deep breath like he does. "I'm sorry. I'm not– the best, at comfort."

"I– Comfort? I told your Siffrin how to– Comfort?"

"Clearly," you say, "you regret it. And it upsets you." You drop your head. "I apologize for upsetting you."

"You–" Their voice softens. "You don't need to. Don't worry about me. Please."

You open your eyes and raise your head to look at them. They're posed defensively again, like they had been in the hallway earlier. The spikes of static on their body—there are more than usual, you think, and they're moving faster. Interesting. You stand up straight. "I admit, Loop, that I do not trust you. By little fault of yours—I just don't know you." They twitch. You read it as a flinch for half a second. "But Siffrin does, and you have been nothing but helpful to us. I could see us being friends in the future." You raise a hand, palm up, an offering. "I think you're worth worrying about."

They search you. Their eyes squint just so slightly, closer to their usual expression, but the knit brows betray their apprehension easily. "I…" Their right hand comes up to hold their left arm. "You should be focusing on my stardust. I'm here because he asked. Not to– to make friends. I'm sorry."

…You won't push. You sigh, though. "Even so, I'd like to help you. If only to give myself something to do while I wait out my insomnia."

They cup their right elbow in their left hand and look down at the floor. "Fine," they say, and return to their seat at the table.

You nod and sit in your own. "Good. Let's lay out some rules, for your comfort."

What little face they have twists. They say nothing.

"I won't pry for details. It's not my intent to go behind Siffrin's back for information about their experience looping; I'm here for yours. You don't have to spill personal things. We don't know each other, after all." You smile. "Would you like more tea?"

"…Yes, please. Thank you… Researcher." They push their cup towards you, staring resolutely at the spot it once occupied on the table.

Still with the title. You stand and say, "My name is Odile, you know."

"That I do, Researcher."

Hm. You get up and make your teas.

 

You muse on the situation as you do. Loop's guilt is palpable, thick and painful in every word they say. They distance themself stubbornly. You know little about them—they are a star, they supposedly exist solely to help Siffrin, their biology is utterly inexplicable and you suspect they are not organic at all, they speak sometimes like they lived a life before the loops, et cetera—and they not only make it difficult to learn more but know far too much about you. You suppose that could be effectively explained away by their observing presence in the loops, but it's still… unnerving.

You're currently more concerned with their feelings around Siffrin using suicide in the loops—and, gems, that will certainly keep you up at night. It's, really, not that different from any other purposeful method of looping, but you're sure it… comes with baggage. And you, frankly, just hate to imagine it. Your only solace is that you know how capable Siffrin is of a quick kill, having witnessed them hunting before. Even then… you doubt they've hunted a human before, unless your stupid old assassin theory was somehow right—Loop may have had to teach them. You can't imagine how it must feel for Loop, to not only witness it but to do so having given Siffrin the means to do it in the first place.

 

You hand Loop their tea and sit. "So," you begin, "Siffrin."

They look at you. Then they busy themself with their tea.

"I'll start where we left off—that you gave Siffrin the option for suicide."

"I'm sorry," they say again. They shift in their seat. They sip their tea. "I– I didn't want to. And I tried to tell him not to– But. He asked. And I'm here to help him. I'm–" Their grip tightens around the porcelain in their hands. "I'm here to do what my stardust wants."

"Why were you so against it? It's only practical."

Their head shoots up to stare at you incredulously. "W– What? O– Researcher, what? I–" Their lower their voice to a hissing whisper. "It's suicide, Researcher, don't tell me you think that kind of thing is inconsequential regardless of if you die or not."

Ah, gems. You shake your head. "Of course not, of course not. I'm just picking your brain."

They relax only slightly. They look away, sigh, and drink. "…I… didn't want him thinking of himself as disposable, I guess. A body is more than just meat. It's a vessel of identity. He… My stardust doesn't have a particularly strong sense of self to begin with, and… and I… didn't want it going too far. Dying normally is bad enough. Dying because you choose to is bad enough. Dying by your own hand…" Their eyes look far away. Blank, almost. The middle distance they stare into holds none of their attention. "Hearing your skin rip under the blade," they say, "and feeling your veins empty, and knowing your own mind is the reason why… Knowing your mind will continue while this body is only temporary…" They blink for the first time since you started watching their eyes. "…It's its own kind of death," they finish.

 

Loop continues to observe the soft charcoal of night, and you continue to observe them.

You've learned something about them.

 

"Gems," you breathe. "Was it quick, at least?"

"…No."

Magma below. You drop your head into both hands, fingers in your hair. You're talking about watching someone commit suicide, you should have expected a description—and you did. Just not anything so… intimate. So vivid. So personal.

"Stars–" Loop says suddenly. "Sorry. Stars, I–"

"Loop," you say, "it's okay."

They stare at you, searching.

"Do you… want to talk about it?" you ask. The words feel clunky in your mouth.

They laugh. "Hah! Oh, stars, no. But thank you, Researcher."

"…Are you okay?"

They just smile at you, at that.

Notes:

hope you enjoyed :D

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