idolpro | 531 Monstrosity & Morality: Dividing Lines of the Self and Other, Section 1

Many fun book-shaped objects here. There is Hope, and Guilt, and—

Hm.

Also, it turns out you're not alone in here—is that Hope? Although she's still wearing all black, it's a more professional sort of outfit, like she's going to work in academia. There's a single white rose pinned to her lapel.

...Hope?

Oh, Lumen—though, I suppose it's easy to get confused. That one's much smaller, though. You could call me Grace, or perhaps if you want to get technical, Love.

Love?

"'And now these three remain: faith, hope, and love; but the greatest of these is love.' We're all in here—or at least aspirationally."

So what do you do?

"What do I do?"

She pauses, a little bemused. "Some things you need to read into deeply, of course, but not this one. It's in the name, after all."

You're just one emotion?

How does that... work?

"You can be a little too cerebral sometimes, you know. It's hardly possible to be one distilled emotion, since 'love' is tied in with plenty of other things. With patience, and kindness—care and understanding and memory and even sadness. Something so great as love could hardly ever be simple."

She shakes her head. "Please think of this all as symbolism if it helps, Lumen. What do you think this all means?"

The whole library?

"Well, since you brought it up, let's start there, yes."

It's... you, isn't it? Your understanding of the world, and how things work. Your filing of the things you've experienced that make you you.

"That's right. All my love, and all my grief; all my conviction and all my weakness. A space to think, and consider, and to process."

If you didn't mean the library, though, what did you mean?

"The assignment, of course. What does it mean that you are being given this work? What is the meaning of the work? And what does it mean for the future?"

That whatever we write will be taken into you and incorporated into how you see the world.

"Do you think there's something about us that needs to be changed, then?" She smiles, gently. "If so, then a further question: do we really seem like the sort of person that would be willing to put what we believe wholly in the hands of others?"

...not exactly, no.

But that's why you're grading them, isn't it?

"The thing is, as to why we assigned this—"

She hums, lightly.

"There are some feelings that are too painful to be able to articulate. But what the mouth may not speak, the heart may yet communicate."

So you have everyone write a paper? In words?

She pauses.

"Rather—no, I suppose you're a straightforward young man. It's one of your best qualities, but—

‘Tis a fearful thing
to love what death can touch.

A fearful thing
to love, to hope, to dream, to be—

to be,
And oh, to lose.
A thing for fools, this,

And a holy thing,
a holy thing
to love.

For your life has lived in me,
your laugh once lifted me,
your word was gift to me.

To remember this brings painful joy.

‘Tis a human thing, love,
a holy thing, to love
what death has touched."

...not to convince you of anything, then.

To remember us by.

"Mm..." She looks up, at the ceiling. "I forget if we've told you about our children."

Tell me about them?

Her voice gets a little softer. "Iris was kind, and generous, and quick to aid others in any way she could."

The past tense probably says an amount.

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