#visit, partial, raw

<specificNihilism> [>Skye:  Arrive on Epi's land.  Look around for him as soon as your feet touch the ground, and squint.  You didn't realize how bright it was going to be.]
<epiele|online> [The entire thing's a giant, transparent lantern.]
<epiele|online> [Of /course/ it's bright
<epiele|online> .]
<epiele|online> [You're tromping up the stairs to the place where the Gate lets out in your Spire.]
<epiele|online> [And she's here.]
<specificNihilism> [You smile when you see him.  It's slight, and tired, but it's there.  "Hello," your compushades say.]
<epiele|online> ["Hi." You wave, eyes safely tucked behind their own pair of 'shades.]
<epiele|online> [You really should get around to asking your server player to tint the windows.]
<epiele|online> [Your server player is 'Cho. You can't ask her.]
<epiele|online> [Dammit.]
<epiele|online> [You wave Spen towards the stairs and follow her down a few floors into the kitchen she's... well, camped, and colonized, and extended.]
<specificNihilism> [You've well and made yourself at home in his kitchen by now.]
<specificNihilism> [It's set up exactly like the one you have back in your spire, like you've had in pretty much every spire for the past ten sessions.]
<specificNihilism> ["Is there anything in particular that you'd like?"  You pull your hair back and frown at the alimentator.]
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<epiele|online> ["Whatever you want to make, really."]
<specificNihilism> [She nods slightly, and starts poking through options on the alimentator.]
<specificNihilism> ["How do you feel about spicy food?"]
<epiele|online> ["Sure." You sit down at the breakfast bar and roll your die back and forth between your hands to keep them busy.]
<specificNihilism> [You frown slightly.  That wasn't an "I like spicy food," that was a distracted non-answer.]
<specificNihilism> [You go ahead and start pulling together an only mildly spicy version of your usual jambalaya.]
<specificNihilism> ["Would you like to help?  She has it under control, but she knows people like to help sometimes."]
<epiele|online> ["It would be a good distraction," you admit. Wait, you said that out loud.]
<epiele|online> [Now she's going to wonder /what/ it's a distraction from. Dammit.]
<specificNihilism> [You look like you're going to ask for a moment, but then you decaptcha a knife.  "Can you help her cut up the vegetables?"]
<epiele|online> [You're relieved she didn't ask, of course, but it looked like she noticed. Could be worse. "Where are you keeping the cutting board, again?"
<specificNihilism> [You point to one of the cupboards.  "They're on the right.  Chop up those three peppers, please?"]
<epiele|online> [You twist the stems off and start chopping the peppers.]
<specificNihilism> [You go back to peeling and deveining the shrimp and chopping up the sausage.  You already started the rice.]
<epiele|online> [You're done, scrape the bell peppers into a neat pile... and those aren't hotter peppers over there, that's /okra/. "I thought you said you were thinking of something spicy."]
<specificNihilism> [You look up.  "You didn't answer entirely.  If you'd like something more spicy, she can get different peppers."]
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<epiele|online> ["You know, I'd like that."]
<specificNihilism> ["There should be an image for three different peppers in the folder - cut those up instead?"]
<epiele|online> [You kneel down in front of the alimentator and... consider surreptitiously replacing those peppers with even spicier ones.]
<epiele|online> [It would throw off her cooking, though, and that wouldn't be nice. So you make the ones she recommends, instead.]
<epiele|online> [What she's doing isn't the kind of thing you can just smother in cock sauce.]
<epiele|online> [You titter a little at this particular train of thought.]
<specificNihilism> [You finish cutting up the meat and put it aside.  You grab a different knife and cutting board and start chopping up the onion.]
<epiele|online> [You chop up these peppers. Now /this/ is what you're talking about - your eyes are already watering.]
<specificNihilism> [You sniffle from where you're chopping up the onion.  "This is dumb," you blurt halfway through.]
<epiele|online> ["Onions are shitty like that."]
<epiele|online> [Wait, uh.]
<epiele|online> ["Or did you mean something else?"]
<specificNihilism> ["Mostly the onions," you answer, stopping to blink several times and snuffle into the crook of your elbow.  "Dumb, dumb, dumb."]
<epiele|online> ["Should I help with it?"]
<specificNihilism> ["No, she's most of the way through.  She needs to finally al hemiz  those onion glasses she saw people talking about on Pits."]
<epiele|online> ["Goggles should work. Like, lab goggles. Or swimming goggles."]
<specificNihilism> ["She'll give those a try next time.  Are you done with the peppers?"]
<epiele|online> ["Yep." You've even separated out the seeds - you're not sure if she stirs them in or throws them away.]
<specificNihilism> ["Oh - you're good at this."  You smile at him and take the flesh and the seeds.  You'll stir the latter in later, if it needs a little extra kick.  A dollop of oil gets poured into the bottom of a pan and you push the vegetables into the bottom.  You poke them with a large fork to make sure they're evenly spread.]
<specificNihilism> ["Is there anything you'd like with the jambalaya?"]
<epiele|online> ["I can't think of anything else," you say, and then move over to the sink and start washing your hands. Accidentally getting peppers in your face because you touched your eyes is not something you want to do today. Nope.]
<specificNihilism> ["Then... it's mostly waiting for..."  You check the vegetables and dump in the rice and meat.  "... mostly waiting for it to finish cooking, she guesses."]
<specificNihilism> [You hover awkwardly before settling into a chair at the table.]
<epiele|online> [You dry your hands on a towel and join her in the next chair over, tentatively putting a hand on her shoulder.]
<specificNihilism> [You smile and reach up to squeeze his hand.  "Thanks."]
<epiele|online> [You sit down next to her and poke at something on your laptop for a while. But it's not interesting, and eventually you just slam the lid shut and put your head on the table and cover it with your hands.]
<specificNihilism> [You... cautiously, gently, lightly put a hand on /his/ shoulder, this time.]
<epiele|online> [You stare at the woodgrain of the table. It's printed onto a thin sheet of laminate. You can tell it's printed because you can see the pixels in it.]
<epiele|online> [It suddenly seems like a really great metaphor for everything ever.]
<epiele|online> ["I can see the pixels. I don't /want/ to see the pixels."]
<specificNihilism> ["She's sorry."  It's not enough.  It's never enough, not really.  "Would you like a hug?" you offer, because it may not fix everything, but it's the only thing you can think of right now.]
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<epiele|online> ["I can see the way the Game runs and the way that it screws with my emotions and the way the code tilts when it runs and - " You don't move.]
<epiele|online> [You do start tearing up a little.]
<specificNihilism> ["... she's going to hug you now," you say, because you don't just hug someone without warning them, not when they're /this/ upset and /this/ veteran.  You wrap your arms around his shoulders.  "She's sorry.  You should get some more ps buffs."]
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<epiele|online> ["Yeah, and that's the Good Replayer's answer to everything. Get more psybuffs. Make the Game help you be okay with the way the Game fucks you." Your voice comes out thick with tears.]
<specificNihilism> [Your breath leaves you in a silent sigh.  "She realizes - but they also get you to a point where you /can/ steal your equilibrium back."]
<specificNihilism> ["Sometimes people need a little bit of help."]
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<epiele|online> ["What equilibrium is there to steal back?" Even despite the tears, an edge of derision manages to make its way in. "Is there a way to be sane in a brainwashing murdergame?"]
<specificNihilism> ["Yes," you say simply.  "It's easier to see when you're not drowning under the weight of everything.  Is Spenih insane?"]
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<epiele|online> [Snort. Or maybe a sniffle, you can't tell. "Better question is, whose idea of 'sane' are we even using here?"]
<specificNihilism> [You slide a box of tissues in front of him.  "Are you going to talk to someone about getting psy uffs?"]
<epiele|online> [Silence.]
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<specificNihilism> ["... if you don't, she will."]
<epiele|online> ["/No./"]
<epiele|online> ["The only winning move -" you pull out the White King from a chess set, free up one of your hands, and drop it on the table - "is not to play." You flick it. It falls over, and rolls off the table. You don't look to see where it goes.]
<specificNihilism> ["If you don't play," you say, "you die.  She's not letting you die on her."]
<epiele|online> ["Where did I say I was going to - "]
<epiele|online> [Oh.]
<specificNihilism> [You feel your fragile calm start to fray.  You layer another psybuff on top of the one you applied earlier, and feel that bubble of anxiety go numb.]
<epiele|online> [You realize you're dangerously close to not even caring anymore.]
<epiele|online> [The words bubble up, from Myra's FAQ: "That first decision to break with yourself for the sake of survival is irreversible."]
<specificNihilism> [You recognize them, of course.]
<specificNihilism> [Your lips form a thin line.]
<epiele|online> ["I already /have/."]
<epiele|online> ["I am not /allowed/ to want to die." And you're not, because you never wanted to. But suddenly you understand why someone might.]
<epiele|online> [You sob.]
<specificNihilism> [You tighten your arms around him.  "She's sorry."  You hook your chin on his shoulder.  "Oh, Epi, she's sorry."  You close your eyes and hug him tighter yet.  "Let it out."]
<epiele|online> [The laptop finally gets stowed somewhere and you cry into the speckled pixelated printed table and the ugly tight-emptiness of your chest is nothing, and everything.]
<specificNihilism> [Scene?]
<epiele|online> [Scene, for now. We'll have to pick it up tomorrow.]