Not playing wouldn't solve anything. Maybe you'd all feel better about yourselves, pat yourselves on the back and we'd land at the exact same destination, only we'd just end up killing the innocents.
These games are always horribly rigged.
[She doesn't care about the morality of it, really. That's never been the way her mind works. There's no right or wrong, just fair and unfair. You play the game and you ensure that you win by any means necessary. Nobody is innocent. Nobody can be trusted.]
...You mentioned that you can't be here for much longer. [Walter revealing at the end that he was dying of cancer made her think about it.]
Still, we picked an outcome. At least I hope in the end I can say we did our best. [This entire time, Mio has been trying to fight back against the path constraining them. Imploring Adela to use her strengths to aid them, hesitating to vote for anyone to die...She couldn't even really bring herself to put down Walter's name when the things he had done were no worse than Adela and Makima or a Consul.
Mio's hand instinctively lifts to rub the grey mark on the side of her neck, its red center particularly faded in the darkness of night.]
Did you know you were dying the entire time? Or did you remember it after the second execution?
[Erika sounds... distant. Forlorn. She looks at the mark, close enough to touch. Some kind of curse she would imagine. Some other fantasy tripe like that.
What does it matter? She was never going to see her again anyway. She'd leave this place and end up in another closed circle where everyone starts dropping dead, and the cycle would continue.]
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These games are always horribly rigged.
[She doesn't care about the morality of it, really. That's never been the way her mind works. There's no right or wrong, just fair and unfair. You play the game and you ensure that you win by any means necessary. Nobody is innocent. Nobody can be trusted.]
...You mentioned that you can't be here for much longer. [Walter revealing at the end that he was dying of cancer made her think about it.]
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Mio's hand instinctively lifts to rub the grey mark on the side of her neck, its red center particularly faded in the darkness of night.]
Yeah. Just about a month.
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[Erika sounds... distant. Forlorn. She looks at the mark, close enough to touch. Some kind of curse she would imagine. Some other fantasy tripe like that.
What does it matter? She was never going to see her again anyway. She'd leave this place and end up in another closed circle where everyone starts dropping dead, and the cycle would continue.]