"Only the wish to restore goodness to the world is to cherish the world."



“Because sending a letter is the next best thing to showing up personally at someone’s door. Ink from your pen touches the stationary, your fingers touch the paper, your saliva seals the envelope, your scent graces the paper. Something tangible from your world travels through machines and hands, and deposits itself in another’s mailbox; their world. Your letter is then carried inside as an invited guest. The paper that was sitting on your desk, now sits on another’s. The recipient handles the paper that you handled. Letters create a connection that modern and impersonal forms of communication will never replace.”



"Well, not everyone can be spontaneous. I have a friend, Zone, who gets these stomach cramps when he gets nervous. So, big surprises and stuff aren’t exactly fun for him, either. I kind of like it sometimes myself, but there are certain times when it makes sense and times when having something planned makes more sense, you know? You just have to do what you’re comfortable with!"

What makes her think I… Well, no matter. Small talk.

"Yes, there’s a time and place for everything, isn’t there? I thank you for your counsel. I hope your friend— Mr. Zone was it? — isn’t exposed to such stress in the future."



"I think… it’s the suspense? The not knowing what will come next that is attractive on its own. Having everything planned can be great in a sense, but the spontaneousness of one action or spur of the moment decisions can be thrilling. Kind of like a rollercoaster, I guess?"

"… And though your logic I can comprehend, I fail to see the appeal of it. To some, yes, there is thrill in spontaneity— but it earns from me only fear. One never knows what could be lost to the dark of mystery.”

"I fail to see why uncertainty could ever be attractive…"

Let the mindfuck begin :D


"Hello! My name is Gwenny and I adore the teachings of Confucius!

If you are exacting with yourself but forgiving to others, then you will put enmity at a distance. Analects 15:15!

Yes, Gwenny, I listen.

Reginald is such pleasant company. I know all he wants is milk, but it is so very comforting to be able to speak to someone who will only reply with a yawn or a stretch. I needn’t exercise any discretion, nor bulk up past who I am, and sometimes I am fooled into thinking he genuinely cares for me. It’s the look he gives me whenst at my feet he curls to sleep.


He had a good memory of course, and his explanation told Rude that he remembered by association with his own thoughts. It was how Rude himself managed to remember so many things over the course of so many years. Associating the small details with his own impression of things.

"I have never been called frank," Rude admitted with a short nod. "Blunt, yes. But I’ve been told that getting information out of me is nearly impossible."

He raise his eyebrows at the thought of the young Emperor not having guests. “I would have thought you would be overrun with nobles paying their respects or diplomats needing an audience.” Any explanation the boy could offer for those things would be worth hearing, he was sure.

Blunt… Yes, better.

"I see. Ah, well…" A glance he tossed the imposing portrait along the wall. Gramis returned the glimpse, draped in violet-gold silks, enthroned, spine in perfect alignment with its back. Reflected in pools of grey did Larsa see the stack of unopened condolence letters piled on his desk. Yet onward trudged his heels and once more his eyes snapped to Rude. "Diplomats occasionally, yes. What I meant was it has been long since I’ve spent leisure time with someone outside the palace." 

While diplomats and nobles could become friends, ever hung the stench of purpose in the air, a nauseating gas that ached the head and hardened veneer. 

"Although, I assume a skill as discretion like that— being blunt yet capable of concealing sensitive information— has proved valuable in your line of work, yes?" He grinned. "I shan’t probe, of course, but it leaves me guessing all the same."

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