[she doesn't reach out to touch her. not when she still seems kind of dazed like that, not after what she'd seen-- she doesn't want to unintentionally make her lash out with unexpected contact, but she does step closer. her own voice takes a moment to steady.]
... it's all right. You're not there right now, you're okay. It's going to be okay.
[she's fine. she's okay. she brings a hand up to her throat - her left one, with the bright red eye on the back of it. for a moment she just breathes, shaking the residual pain out of her limbs, and then:]
... I'm - I'm fine. [she mutters, after a second.] Gods. Of all the fucking memory leaks.
No. Lucien, I guess, technically, came first. [...] Lucien died. When he woke up, he was Molly. And when we met him, he was Molly.
But then... Molly died. And Lucien came back, but. [she clenches her fists, looking up at lucretia.] Lucien's a douchebag. And I'm not letting him keep it.
[jk i thought this seemed like a good spot for memshare so i'm sliding it in before i go to bed. in the few moments that she's quiet after that, there's a memory shared in return-]
[and it starts with the certain knowledge that everyone else, all six of your friends, are dead.
they died, somehow, at the beginning of this cycle, after your ship was shot down; you went down with it, and while you don't know exactly what happened, you know they never left the marble city that stands out against this somewhat desolate world's scenery, and you know that you have been pursued ever since.
you know that if they're gone, then you have to live. you're the last chance that all of you have, because as long as one of you makes it, then it'll be okay, but if you don't... if you don't, that's the end of your escape from the hunger, the end of everything you've been trying to do for decades now.
you've spent the year like this: fleeing from officers of that city's court who refuse to give up their pursuit, figuring out how to repair a starship, figuring out how you're going to get it off the ground once that's done, evading marauders trying to steal it from you. you just have to make it. you have to finish out this year without dying and without losing this ship, and you have to get off of this world when the time comes.
and as you somehow, miraculously, manage to guide it away from this plane of existence when your year is up, when this world's doom comes and forces you to flee, you watch the empty space of the ship's deck intently. you know how this works. you know. but you still can't breathe easy until you pass the barrier and white threads begin to knit their forms back together, and you see them take shape, and you let yourself slump back against the bridge where you were standing for that first flight 65 years ago. your head falls into your hands, your breathing still labored from that desperate escape. they're back. you made it.
"i made it. i made it," you murmur, almost more to yourself than to them. "they tracked me down and i got away on the ship but they kept following, for a year i ran and i hid, and i had to fight, and i had to repair the ship in secret-- i had to learn how to repair the ship, i was the only one, if i died too-- i don't even know how to fly the ship! i fucking made it."]
these don't get any easier? at least this one is kind of a happy ending, but there's so much to unpack at first that beau just sort of - slaps her fist against the wall, and closes her eyes. whew. okay.
this is the most futuristic of ones she's run into so far. deep breath.]
Oh- that was the Starblaster. [a completely normal name.] A ship built to explore our planar system. Originally, the mission was just to leave the Prime Material plane and... observe everything from the outside for a few months before returning.
...it didn't, no. The source we used to be able to build that ship in the first place is something called the Light of Creation. With its help, our world's researchers were capable of creating the Bond Engine the ship uses to function, but the Light-- we later learned that it was essentially a beacon for something that pursued it relentlessly, something that required its impossible power to grow.
The day that we left on our mission, our home was... devoured, by that entity, but we were able to escape to a new planar system in the process.
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[is her response. it's very loud.]
Fuck. [and she coughs, trying to reorient herself. she just thwacks back against whatever wall is closest, expression dazed.]
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[she doesn't reach out to touch her. not when she still seems kind of dazed like that, not after what she'd seen-- she doesn't want to unintentionally make her lash out with unexpected contact, but she does step closer. her own voice takes a moment to steady.]
... it's all right. You're not there right now, you're okay. It's going to be okay.
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... I'm - I'm fine. [she mutters, after a second.] Gods. Of all the fucking memory leaks.
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[she agrees quietly, letting her own hand drop back to her side.]
Was that...?
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[sigh. she massages her throat. lucretia might remember beau showed up with bruises shaped like a hand around her neck - they've faded by now, but.]
It wasn't Molly. It was his body, but it wasn't him.
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[honestly, no matter what the answer is, that's-- well, it's troubling in general, but to be attacked using someone close to you...]
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No. Lucien, I guess, technically, came first. [...] Lucien died. When he woke up, he was Molly. And when we met him, he was Molly.
But then... Molly died. And Lucien came back, but. [she clenches her fists, looking up at lucretia.] Lucien's a douchebag. And I'm not letting him keep it.
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[she says that quietly, still just sort of processing all of it, and moves to take a seat by beau.]
I'm going to assume him being here and alive is some kind of-- time shenanigans, but... how long had it been since you last saw him?
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... Nine months. [she rubs at her neck.] Molly, anyway. Lucien I saw right before I came here.
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[...ah. she goes silent again there, for a few moments.]
...I'm sorry that you had to go through that, with him, but- I'm glad that you've had him back here, at the least.
[it's an opportunity, probably.]
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... Yeah. Definitely. I've thought a lot about what I'd do with, uh. One more minute, you know? And I've had more than that. [sigh.]
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[and again, there's a pause, before:]
Does he know?
[how much does beau need her to not say.]
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No. He doesn't. [as of this conversation! haha!] He didn't want to know. I'm sure you saw his tattoo that one week. The fear one.
[molly your tiddies]
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[she was aware of the tiddies, she has eyes.]
I'll keep that in mind, while we're here.
[jk i thought this seemed like a good spot for memshare so i'm sliding it in before i go to bed. in the few moments that she's quiet after that, there's a memory shared in return-]
[and it starts with the certain knowledge that everyone else, all six of your friends, are dead.
they died, somehow, at the beginning of this cycle, after your ship was shot down; you went down with it, and while you don't know exactly what happened, you know they never left the marble city that stands out against this somewhat desolate world's scenery, and you know that you have been pursued ever since.
you know that if they're gone, then you have to live. you're the last chance that all of you have, because as long as one of you makes it, then it'll be okay, but if you don't... if you don't, that's the end of your escape from the hunger, the end of everything you've been trying to do for decades now.
you've spent the year like this: fleeing from officers of that city's court who refuse to give up their pursuit, figuring out how to repair a starship, figuring out how you're going to get it off the ground once that's done, evading marauders trying to steal it from you. you just have to make it. you have to finish out this year without dying and without losing this ship, and you have to get off of this world when the time comes.
and as you somehow, miraculously, manage to guide it away from this plane of existence when your year is up, when this world's doom comes and forces you to flee, you watch the empty space of the ship's deck intently. you know how this works. you know. but you still can't breathe easy until you pass the barrier and white threads begin to knit their forms back together, and you see them take shape, and you let yourself slump back against the bridge where you were standing for that first flight 65 years ago. your head falls into your hands, your breathing still labored from that desperate escape. they're back. you made it.
"i made it. i made it," you murmur, almost more to yourself than to them. "they tracked me down and i got away on the ship but they kept following, for a year i ran and i hid, and i had to fight, and i had to repair the ship in secret-- i had to learn how to repair the ship, i was the only one, if i died too-- i don't even know how to fly the ship! i fucking made it."]
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these don't get any easier? at least this one is kind of a happy ending, but there's so much to unpack at first that beau just sort of - slaps her fist against the wall, and closes her eyes. whew. okay.
this is the most futuristic of ones she's run into so far. deep breath.]
... What? [starts with that.]
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[that's all she says at first, taking a second to gather herself. it's a lot to re-live.
but, after a moment:]
Honestly, I don't-- I wouldn't know where to start on this one. Why don't you tell me what makes the least sense and we'll just... go from there.
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[space?? all of the stolen century arc? DRIVING?]
Uh. What... what were you on?
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And that obviously didn't fucking happen. [planar system makes sense, though. she follows that.]
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The day that we left on our mission, our home was... devoured, by that entity, but we were able to escape to a new planar system in the process.
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... Oh. [she rubs at the back of her neck.] Shit. I'm sorry.
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[maybe lup was right. maybe everything it ate can still be saved.
she does miss it, either way.]
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[...]
Long time, huh?
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What you saw, that was-- it was the sixty-fifth year since it happened.
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[HELLO]
... how many times have you done that?
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