The fight's gone completely out of him, yes. His fingers, curled into Ivan's collar still, are barely holding on.]
No, it's not that... I just...
[What, then? He knows what.]
I'm just ashamed of it. Of myself. That's all.
[It's simple as that. He doesn't deserve it, for anyone to think he's the good man that's he's been trying to be, kind and helpful, but it was nice for a time. To be just that.]
[ Ivan reaches up to take one of his arms gently by the wrist, easing his grip away from his collar. ]
I get it. [ Boy does he. There's definitely a reason the two of them have been shoved together on this journey. ] That sort of feeling... it never quite goes away.
[He allows it. No resistance at all from James, as though the well has dried up.
He scoffs despite himself. It's the kind of sound devoid of any real humor, though he can maybe understand, even now, that this is Ivan's way of empathizing.]
Comforting... that this hole in the heart will always be there.
[ Ivan goes ahead and eases both of James' hands away from him, then. Lets him settle into the boat properly before he takes up the oars, looking around for some sign of where they're supposed to go in all this fog.
He does cast a small, incredibly sad smile at James. ]
[It isn't a relief, he's not sure how long before that feeling seeps in again, but James' mind is more steadied. His guilt lies in the open, ugly thing that it is, and Ivan simply accepts it. No judgment, as he claims it's not his place; and maybe he realizes that James does plenty of that for himself.
His hands fall into his lap as he eases back and sits again in the boat. Ah, it's... cold.]
Probably not.
[A long, ragged exhale, and he finally lifts his gaze up. The fog is very thick, but there's the dark shadow of something in the distance. A building of some sort.]
Guess we keep moving. [Literally and figuratively.]
[ Reapers don't dole out judgement. They simply usher souls to wherever they're meant to go — and if that's somewhere judgement can be passed, that's not Ivan's problem. His job is over at that point.
But more than that, his own sins are right up there with James'. He couldn't judge the man even if he wanted to. They both did horrible things to and for the people they loved, both turned into monsters in their own right, and both left to live with that. ]
Guess so. We should get you out of the cold, anyway.
[ Surely nothing can go wrong by rowing toward the looming shadow in the fog. Let's do that! ]
For what it's worth, it might be a lengthy distance, but nothing bad seems to be happening as Ivan rows. Just the fog parting for the little bow of the boat, gliding over the surface of the water as they approach.
James hugs himself with his arms.]
I don't know how well we're going to manage that, but maybe we'll find something that can dry me off.
[He glances around to see if maybe there's something that'd qualify in this boat, though the chances are slim. He finds, instead, a little duffel bag tucked close to the seat behind him.]
[He lifts up the bag, giving it a shake. It isn't full, and he places it in the middle of the boat to rifle through it. It'll give him a distraction for now, pushing aside all else for curiosity. You know James likes to stick his hands into weird things.]
Uh...
[He takes note of multiple small items. A writing pad, a pen. A blank envelope.]
A towel's too much to hope for.
[And then... that awful, crimson-covered, necromancy book from before. Looks like they can't easily be rid of some things here.
[ A duffel bag is probably the least weird thing in all of Silent Hill to stick your hand in, lets be real.
Ivan glances around occasionally to make sure they're still on-track to get to whatever's looming in the fog, but otherwise he watches James rifle through the contents of the bag. When the book comes out, he makes a face. ]
Of course. I'd tell you to throw it in the lake, but I imagine it will find us again somehow anyway.
The hotel. Where Mary and I spent our vacation once. And where I returned to learn the truth about... what I did.
[That looming shape through the fog, slowly growing larger as they approach. It's hard to make the details out, but it's surely big enough to be hotel-adjacent.]
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I'M TAPPING MY WATCHThe fight's gone completely out of him, yes. His fingers, curled into Ivan's collar still, are barely holding on.]
No, it's not that... I just...
[What, then? He knows what.]
I'm just ashamed of it. Of myself. That's all.
[It's simple as that. He doesn't deserve it, for anyone to think he's the good man that's he's been trying to be, kind and helpful, but it was nice for a time. To be just that.]
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I get it. [ Boy does he. There's definitely a reason the two of them have been shoved together on this journey. ] That sort of feeling... it never quite goes away.
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He scoffs despite himself. It's the kind of sound devoid of any real humor, though he can maybe understand, even now, that this is Ivan's way of empathizing.]
Comforting... that this hole in the heart will always be there.
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He does cast a small, incredibly sad smile at James. ]
Do we deserve any less?
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His hands fall into his lap as he eases back and sits again in the boat. Ah, it's... cold.]
Probably not.
[A long, ragged exhale, and he finally lifts his gaze up. The fog is very thick, but there's the dark shadow of something in the distance. A building of some sort.]
Guess we keep moving. [Literally and figuratively.]
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But more than that, his own sins are right up there with James'. He couldn't judge the man even if he wanted to. They both did horrible things to and for the people they loved, both turned into monsters in their own right, and both left to live with that. ]
Guess so. We should get you out of the cold, anyway.
[ Surely nothing can go wrong by rowing toward the looming shadow in the fog. Let's do that! ]
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For what it's worth, it might be a lengthy distance, but nothing bad seems to be happening as Ivan rows. Just the fog parting for the little bow of the boat, gliding over the surface of the water as they approach.
James hugs himself with his arms.]
I don't know how well we're going to manage that, but maybe we'll find something that can dry me off.
[He glances around to see if maybe there's something that'd qualify in this boat, though the chances are slim. He finds, instead, a little duffel bag tucked close to the seat behind him.]
Hey, what's this?
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A glance over as he rows. ]
What's what?
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Uh...
[He takes note of multiple small items. A writing pad, a pen. A blank envelope.]
A towel's too much to hope for.
[And then... that awful, crimson-covered, necromancy book from before. Looks like they can't easily be rid of some things here.
... ]
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Ivan glances around occasionally to make sure they're still on-track to get to whatever's looming in the fog, but otherwise he watches James rifle through the contents of the bag. When the book comes out, he makes a face. ]
Of course. I'd tell you to throw it in the lake, but I imagine it will find us again somehow anyway.
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Probably. This town doesn't let anything go until...
[Until the person in question comes to terms with it. He just trails off, though; it probably doesn't need to be said.]
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[ Now that he understands more about what this town is about, it's methods are a bit more obvious. ]
Love being followed by my past, literally and metaphorically.
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[He bites back another shiver, stubbornly.]
-kind of executioner following you around.
[Yet. Not to tempt fate or anything.]
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[ Ivan's version of Pyramid Head is probably something nobody wants to run into, ever. ]
Where are we headed?
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The hotel. Where Mary and I spent our vacation once. And where I returned to learn the truth about... what I did.
[That looming shape through the fog, slowly growing larger as they approach. It's hard to make the details out, but it's surely big enough to be hotel-adjacent.]