ximilian: (Default)
ximilia mods ([personal profile] ximilian) wrote in [community profile] ximilialog2023-06-01 06:40 pm

MISSION: THE AI AND THE COMMANDER

M I S S I O N   1 4 . 0

SOMEWHENPRESENT DAYFYI

// SOMEWHEN  


The hum of the teleportation platform is familiar, filling your ears as the bright light dissipates enough to safely open your eyes. You feel something solid beneath your feet, and the lack of scent from the asphalt and dirt in Nuhiri and Deumia marks a departure from anything resembling a planet, the space around you giving you no reason to think anything of it. You're on the Ximilia once again — finally. Another mission successfully accomplished, for whatever other hardships you and the rest of the team have endured. Hot food and hot showers await, and Newt will surely be scurrying off to prepare for the team’s usual post-mission movie night.

You’re back and you can’t wait for Viveca to greet you, and for Degar to take the orb away, back to the North Wing to join the other ones.

Except … the station’s walls appear to be peeling, and some of the equipment looks a little older and unpolished. There’s even a layer of space-dust on one of the control boards. And most importantly: no one is here to greet you. As you turn and look to your fellow crewmates in confusion, even now some of you might start to wonder at the change of routine. Ivy, who had just been handling the orb, will be empty-handed, but surely there’s nothing to worry about. The station is peaceful and still. Nothing feels amiss … yet. And then:

// 0-L1V-14
Oh, hello. You are not the team I know. Yet you are here for the orb … Good.

The sound of 0-L1V-14 — or 'Olivia' as many have come to call her — voice springs to life around you. She almost seems to sound confused for a moment, clearly recalibrating her systems for this strange occurrence, before the gentle tenor of her voice regains its composure and she recalls her mission directive. The lights in the teleportation platform seem to glow just a little brighter, as though the arrival of the crew has buoyed the AI's spirits.

// 0-L1V-14
I've located one within the station, but it seems to have fractured. The air around them appears to have some sort of temporal disturbance that I can't quite pin down. Be cautious, but bring them to me before anything happens.

Well? You heard the AI. Best to start looking.


1.0   The first thing you might think to do is return to the sleeping quarters, either to clean up and change into another set of clothes; or to take a much-deserved nap; or maybe you just need a moment to yourself to collect your thoughts. The doors to the sleeping quarters seem to stick for a moment, which isn’t worrying in and of itself, but as the doors slide open you realize that you’re looking into a dark and empty carved out space that resembles a place for storage more than anything else. The walls and doors that used to make up your individual rooms are absent, and the floors are stripped bare, with rows of perforated grates allowing the cavernous space to remain relatively well-ventilated. It’s clear that no one has visited this room in quite some time, and perhaps there had once been plans for it, now abandoned to hold a stock of random items in its place.

There are boxes stacked against the wall, and a shelving unit that holds miscellaneous supplies: cans and boxes, batteries and wires, old bound notebooks made of paper. Rolls of rough tarp are haphazardly leaning against the wall to one corner, and thermal blankets are scattered amongst scraps of loose-leaf, a sketch of a cluster of spherical shapes in different colours, and other foreign knick-knacks that seem to have no place on a space station. If you decide to explore this space you’ll have to provide your own source of light as none of the lighting above seem to work though the row of fixtures that you’re used to seem, at least, to have been installed. They’re just not currently online.

Investigating the room a little deeper might draw you to a simple metal box sitting in the middle shelf next to what looks like a half-broken lute, its strings missing. There is no lock on this box, as though it wants to be opened, and lifting the lid will reveal a bright rosy-coloured light. Reaching out towards the small sliver of light in the shape of an elongated teardrop will recall a memory of your childhood so vivid, you’ll think you were back in that time, in that exact moment, to relive it again. Whether it's a good memory or a tragic one is left up to random chance. Only someone entering the room to talk you through your memory will remind you that you aren’t actually a child any longer.


2.0   Perhaps you decide to forgo the sleeping quarters entirely, and want to revisit one of your favourite simulations in the simulation room. Familiar oceans, the futuristic bar, or the room filled with adorable puppies might be your first choice — but every preset you’re used to scrolling through seems to be different now. There are the standard, familiar pre-mission training simulations, and even the Lodgen Mountain Mines mission appears to be here, but everything else has either been deleted … or it was never here to begin with.

You might decide to go ahead with one of the already existing simulations anyway, or you might want to start rewriting the one you’d come here for in the first place. It will depend on your luck, and it will depend on the success of your mission-training, but a small shard of bright, silvery coloured light may suddenly reveal itself to you. It appears like a thin tear-shape that hangs suspended in the air. The faintest whisper beckons you close; it’s familiar. Will you reach out to touch it? Doing so will colour the simulation room around you with a memory so real it might as well be — suddenly you might recall a happy moment in your life, or perhaps your greatest victory or adventure. This can be shared with whoever enters the simulation room with you or after you, and will fade when you manage to locate the right door and leave the room.


3.0   The sunlight room that you may have walked through on countless occasions is missing the familiar bridge, the river that runs beneath it, and trees that surround it. Instead, the vegetation around you appears to be far more deliberate and practical, thick foliage like bushes planted in rows, their large leaves covering most of the ground and soil. Several small metal boxes with wires and buttons can be found planted across the space, each with a thin rotating disc that whirs and spins quietly. Each of these boxes appears to give off readings, each screen displaying a continuous green wavy line scrolling across it and text that displays the quality of the air with a percentile grade, the amount of it being produced, and that particular box’s designation zone: Mess Hall, Storage, Living Quarters, and Teleportation Platform among others. This isn’t just a room that simulates nature, but if you were to approach any of the small bushes and saplings here, it’s clear that the plants here are real and they’re currently working to provide the rest of the station with oxygen.

Further to the back of the sunlight room, a bright sliver of colourful green light seems to glitter and glint between the leaves. It feels familiar in the way that it whispers faintly, and if you concentrate you can make out the sound of your name in a voice like that of someone from your past: a friend, perhaps, or a family member. Maybe a loved one or an enemy. Or perhaps it’s a voice you can’t actually recognize. It might compel you to reach out for the light, but will you listen? Or will you turn away?

If you embrace the light and call out in answer to the voice, you will re-experience the action, the conversation, or the thought that you attribute as being the reason you are who you are today with that most important person being the key piece in your memory.


4.0   Looking for your usual snacks? Feeling peckish for that bowl of instant spicy space-ramen you saved for post-mission? You might head into the kitchen expecting the familiar foodstuffs that you’re used to only to find that the room has been rearranged, with far fewer cupboards and appliances, and more of what looks like typical space-fare: freeze-fried items and nutrition-focused meals sealed into silver foiled bags. What ‘fresh’ ingredients exist are even less, and there are a stack of dirty plates and cutlery in the sink that don’t look like anything you or your crewmates might have used. You may already suspect that this whole station isn’t the one you’re used to, or you might still be in denial. Either way, you may find through your rummaging the call to a little sliver of coppery-coloured light located behind the freezer door.

If you decide to touch the fragment of light here, you’ll feel a ghostly burning as though the glint of the light has cut your skin, almost cold enough to feel sharp — but it’s just your imagination, isn’t it? What you remember now as it comes back to life around you (and the team member or members who may have joined you) is the best meal you’ve ever eaten, whether it is something you made for yourself, something made by your loved one, or the meal that leaves your heart feeling empty and aching.


5.0   You may have become so accustomed to seeing the North Wing doors sealed that it’s your curiosity that draws you forward to the wide expanse beyond the now open wing, your feet testing the threshold as if you’re expecting an invisible wall to keep you out. Nothing happens when you step into the North Wing, though you might immediately notice the large tank that holds all of the team’s successfully captured orbs is very clearly missing. And not only that but the space appears to be well lived in, a small cluster of worn chairs and a table set to one side, and data pads and drawings on white-boards in plain view. They don’t seem to be much more than a couple of crude strategy diagrams (and a couple of silly stick figures in one corner) and as you move towards the crew quarters, some of you might instantly recognize the familiar room with its rows of beds and a scattering of personal effects assigned to each bunk. Photos are pinned to walls of a twenty-person crew, pillows and blankets are left in disarray by unfinished knitting projects, a diary written in a language you can’t quite translate, and a stuffed elephant-shaped plush doll lies at the head of one of the beds in the middle of the room. By the door is a neatly made bed. An analogue paperback novel sits on the nightstand, a bookmark set in the middle to note its progress. On top of it is a well-kept watch stopped a little after the sixth hour and a medal of service in the now recognizable insignia of the Ndiera Complex’s Federation.

By the far wall of these sleeping quarters is a bright golden starlight that seems to illuminate that side of the room as though someone had turned on a torchlight to the highest setting; it’s almost blinding. Moving closer to it, you’ll find that it’s like all the other slivers of light scattered across the station — a broken shard, like a piece of a large puzzle. Touching it may pull you — and whoever might be in the room with you — into a memory from your time with the Ximilia crew, whether it happened over a year ago, or it happened only on the last mission. It might be a happy memory, or it might be something you regret, which is poignant considering your initial raison d’etre for being here at all. It’s a vision that appears from your perspective and while you relive it, you feel outside of yourself.


6.0   The rest of the station still appears to be intact, with the infirmary, the training room, and the armoury in the same locations that you remember. Those of you who have been here for quite some time, you’ll find your way around by muscle memory alone; but even if you’re a newer member of the crew you’ll have wandered the halls enough to know what feels familiar to you … and what doesn’t.

The infirmary looks to be a little out of date, though it looks as if it’s seen its fair share of use. And it’s smaller too, the more recent addition and surgical area missing from the cozy space. The training room and the armoury share similar qualities of seeming a little older, a little more lived in, and with well-used equipment and weapons to boot. The training room is still padded with firm padded flooring and benches for sitting. Some of the racks and hooks (all empty) that had been against the wall have fallen now, and similar to the teleportation room, you’ll find that some of the paneling in this room has since peeled away, revealing some of the bare structure behind them. In the armoury, you won’t find your favourite knife or preferred staff but there are still a few choices in weaponry to arm yourself with.

Wherever you decide to explore, you might once more happen upon a bright bluish light that seems to whisper and call to you in soft, hushed tones. No specific words can be picked out through the murmurs but the feeling is all the same — it draws you forward like a moth to flame, but whether you decide to reach a hand out to touch the sliver of light that hangs suspended in the air is entirely your choice. If you do, you might succumb to a vivid memory of a significant injury you or someone important to you had suffered once, reliving that moment with too sharp clarity. Those feelings of fear or threat or maybe even satisfaction seem to come to you again as though you were there again — only this time you may not be alone as you witness this memory, and someone else has entered the room with you.

Present Day.

The teleportation platform hums quietly in a clean, well-maintained room. No walls or floors appear to be even the least bit dented, and now the Commander of the Ximilia stands behind the control board, staring at the screen as though doing so will bring their crew back by some wild form of magic. Degar knows magic — he’d come from a world so full of it. This, however, is something different.

Beside him, Viveca scans through the data that had sent the crew into the Ndiera Complex, as it should have brought them back the same way, with the orb in tow.

// VIVECA
“I don’t know how it happened… they should have arrived here. Everything seemed normal! But I’ll figure it out. We’ll figure it out.”

// DEGAR
“They could be anywhere, right? Except we can’t even help them if we don’t know where that might be.”

// VIVECA
“I know. The strange thing is that it seems that we’ve located another orb… only, it states that it’s here. On the station. So even if the platform sent them straight to it… why aren’t they here?”

The Commander and the AI both turn their gaze towards the still empty teleportation platform before exchanging worried glances with each other. Degar finally heaves an exhale but the frown in his features deepens.

// DEGAR
“Keep working at it. I’m going to see what I can figure out in the station’s systems. Maybe we can trace back to the team somewhere. Or somewhen.”

Viveca nods, her voice sounding complicated when she responds next.

// VIVECA
“Yeah. We’ll find them.”

TOP


F Y I

The events in this log take place during the first two weeks of June.

For this mission, we have decided to run the search request mechanic a little differently. Depending on whether your character decides to touch or grasp one or any of the slivers of coloured light that can be found throughout the station, you will have the opportunity to participate in a search request. More on this is explained HERE.

If you have questions about any of the prompts or the mission in general, please direct them HERE.

Any in-character questions to 0-L1V-14 can be asked HERE.

And finally, your soundtrack for this log:

TOP


NAV

shishkabob: (nothing left to take; we)

[personal profile] shishkabob 2023-06-15 10:58 am (UTC)(link)
When we get back to the station in our time, you wanna test that theory?

[What else is downtime for if not to encourage your crewmates to do kind of ridiculous shit?]

No, but we're on a space station where everyone onboard gets pulled in for their expertise in one field or another. I know there's at least one guy onboard who's a medical doctor—you could ask him.
shishkabob: (Default)

infirmary | ota | cw: attempted fratricide, impalement

[personal profile] shishkabob 2023-06-15 11:32 am (UTC)(link)
[finding the orb]

[Dante doesn't tend to visit the infirmary often—he heals faster than most people, save certain immortals on the ship, so he generally doesn't bother to pop in here very much. But he wanders in now, somewhat troubled, having stumbled into somebody's very private memory already.]

Well, this is creepy.

[He says this out loud, turning in a slow circle and taking it all in.]

The only thing that'd make it less creepy is if there were any dried bloodstains on the wall. At least we'd have some idea what happened then. Whaddaya think?

[That's a cheery thought. But he's seeking out conversation to distract himself, as much as he can, from this unmoored, adrift feeling—and from the whispers beckoning him, calling to him.

It doesn't work for very long. Dante pauses a moment, tilting his head to the side, before he glances off and starts to move towards a bright, bluish light.]


[temen-ni-gru (video up until 6:48)]

[And when he touches it, you find yourself standing in the rain, watching as Dante and another man, his face identical to Dante's but his general demeanor completely different, facing off against each other. This Dante is younger, so much so than the middle-aged hunter on the Ximilia, and cockier too, somehow. Doesn't stop him from getting his ass thoroughly trounced by his twin, and stabbed straight through the gut, pinned down to the floor with his own sword.

That he still gets up anyway isn't much of a surprise anymore for those who know Dante. It's the part where he triggers and passes out that's a surprise, considering how casual the present-day Dante treats being impaled. When the younger Dante revives, though, he proves the same sort of incorrigible as his older self, as he jumps off the tower with a hoot.

Dante, older now and more tired, leans against one of the pillars. His expression is carefully blank.]


He wasn't always like that. [It's all he really offers, reluctant to even talk more about this, but...he's gonna have to, he supposes.]
morethan084: (listening/concerned)

[personal profile] morethan084 2023-06-15 11:33 am (UTC)(link)
Did they lure you in with the promise of undoing a regret?

[She knows others have gone home, only to return here. What if it's a never ending cycle?]
morethan084: (cryinghug)

[personal profile] morethan084 2023-06-15 11:41 am (UTC)(link)
[The movement hurts her ribs, but the need for this comfort overwhelms any pain she might be feeling right now. Arms tucked against his chest, Daisy presses her face into his shoulder as she feels the tears spilling over. She doesn't want him to see her like this, but she has absolutely no control over it right now.]

I'm sorry. I shouldn't--

[Daisy feels guilty for reacting like this when he has just had to relive the death of his brother.]

Your memory was much worse.
cruelyethuman: (0016)

[personal profile] cruelyethuman 2023-06-15 11:47 am (UTC)(link)
[Like always, he stays in the shadows, watching from behind the cover of darkness, as Yennefer walks through her own memory. Sees the wounded and the dead, the devastation of a war he doesn't have a stake in.

See her, blood drying on her skin and eyes wet with unshed tears as the scene plays out, looking uncertain and weavering like she never did on the station.

Indecision in the lines of her shoulders, in the shaking of her hands as she talks to a woman - clearly dying, breath hitching and skin growing paler- quiet words, that change the look of fear in Yennefer's eyes in to something...

better.

He watches as she steps up, overlooking the battlefield and the growing, gathering army, watches as she brings the light, calling it (casting it, fingertips glowing like fireflies). As the field is set ablaze, men crumbling under the force of her chaos (magic, science) as they burn

and he never looks away.]


Yennefer.

[A gentle calling with his own hand against her cheek, crouched down to where she lays crumpled on the ground and the fire spreads around them, licking at the base of the cliff.]
dispassioned: (pic#16308892)

[personal profile] dispassioned 2023-06-15 11:55 am (UTC)(link)
No, that part seems to be unique to the Ximilia.

[And no luring happened in Borderland, people just ended up there and had to fend for themselves.]
cruelyethuman: (0020)

[personal profile] cruelyethuman 2023-06-15 12:18 pm (UTC)(link)
I showed you-- everything. I told you, many times, that I protect those I care about.

[Through every mission and all their late-night talks, before it slipped in to sleep for her or in to messy kisses and wandering hands for them both.

The warmth that echoed in his voice when he was spreading chocolate-frosted kisses along the skin of her, in his memory, bleeding out with every word they exchange until there's nothing but distant politeness left.]


But you thought I lied to you about that. Does people lie to you often, Daisy?

[Because he's not talking about Alina, and how she denies that very thing - being Grisha. Still thinks of herself as something else, not quite otkazat'sya and not fully Grisha.

How he will forget her too, and that was the price he had to pay.]
morethan084: (questioning)

[personal profile] morethan084 2023-06-15 12:24 pm (UTC)(link)
[She remembers how that used to make her feel, and those emotions bleed over before they get shoved back and replaced with hatred and disgust.]

And how did that turn out for you?

[She was still under the impression that he had tried to kill Newt because of what he had done to her.]

More often than they should, and they live to regret it.
drawsblood: (11)

[personal profile] drawsblood 2023-06-15 12:26 pm (UTC)(link)
Daisy!

[ He can barely believe what he's hearing. After what he's seen - what she's experienced - and these are the words that come from her mouth. ]

Do not compare them and find your memory lacking.

[ He knows she doesn't want him to see her cry but he pulls back and takes her chin in his hand, forcing her to look at him. ]

Do you think you have no right to your tears? You keep saying you're sorry and you should have done this or that differently - why? Why can't you see that you were hurt? Do you think that because I watched my brother die that watching you nearly die doesn't rip a hole in me too?

[ His hand moves, caressing her face now. Rough fingers and thumb brushing over her skin like he can rub out all her doubts. ]

Please stop looking for reasons to find fault with yourself. You are alive and that's what matters.

[ The image of her lying there with blood coating her fingers and in pain mirrors Karl so well. But their stories had different outcomes. Different people, different worlds, but a similar pain that connects them. ]

Don't ever think you're not worthy of my time. Don't think the sight of you lying there isn't as important as losing my brother. Both images will haunt me. If I didn't care about you then that image wouldn't, but I do and I know it will.
morethan084: (kiss(3))

[personal profile] morethan084 2023-06-15 12:40 pm (UTC)(link)
[Tears roll down her cheeks when he forces her to look at him, lower lip trembling as she tries to reign it back in. She hasn't actively thought about her feelings for Joric often, because she's scared that she'll be hurt again. Scared because also has feelings for Andy, and that eventually she'll forget everyone here.

And it somehow hasn't occurred to her that Joric might have feelings for her too.

Despite his concerns that he's not good at offering comfort, that's exactly what his words do to her. Unable to find the words to express how that makes her feel, she instead kisses him. She needs this. She needs him. Even if she can't express that verbally.]
drawsblood: (51)

[personal profile] drawsblood 2023-06-15 12:53 pm (UTC)(link)
[ He understands so much more than he did months ago. Now he also doesn't want to forget everyone when he returns home and he doesn't want to be forgotten by them either. Before coming here he was isolated by choice in order to keep others safe from him. All his family was gone and his friends in the army were frightened or furious with him. He'd become an exile by the simple act of wanting to remove the cursed spell that was on him. He'd lost his home forever. And yet now he's here where there are movie nights, people who have your back in a fight, a woman who kisses him like the world's on fire around them and she doesn't even notice. Of course he doesn't want to lose all this. Of course he doesn't want to lose her. Who would want to accept any sort of parting?

Joric isn't one who lies to himself. He doesn't lie to anyone. He feels what he feels and while he doesn't deny it, he doesn't know what to call it either. All he knows is that Daisy means something to him and he cares about her. He doesn't want to forget her. And when she kisses him he understands that actions speak louder, so he returns it with equal fervor as if he can transfer all the thoughts in his head over to her. Maybe then she could see herself in his mind's eye and understand how she matters. ]
morethan084: (kiss(2))

[personal profile] morethan084 2023-06-15 01:47 pm (UTC)(link)
[Despite the ache in her rib, Daisy wraps her arms around his neck. Her chest flush against his as she deepens the kiss, and this feels equal parts comfort to equal parts distraction. She's always buried her feelings and experiences to protect herself, and even when she has people around her that she trusts it's difficult to open up about them.]
legalcy: (🎵 Rewind wait)

[personal profile] legalcy 2023-06-15 03:30 pm (UTC)(link)
Well, yes, he's a war criminal, but-- [...He moves one hand away from his face, pauses, and returns it. Alright, the "he's actually very supportive and thorough and brilliant and has changed his ways" argument does not seem right when Minimus tries to move it out of his head. Ryunosuke does not need the further shock of learning that he and Megatron became close friends, and certainly not the romantic tension present in their later adventures.

He prays that Rodimus or Drift or anyone else from the Lost Light doesn't show up and drop this information.]


I was a prominent lawyer in an important position, so they picked me. Despite my Autobot leanings, I was the enforcer of the Code of Interplanetary Conduct - a neutral office. Seeing me arresting war criminals despite their alliance fostered a sense of trust from the organic societies in our galaxy, and if there was any Cybertronian the Galactic Council could trust, it was Ultra Magnus.

[He pauses.] That was...the identity by which I went while I worked there.

But I was well-known, trusted to defend Megatron thoroughly, and remain unclouded by my beliefs.
drawsblood: (51)

[personal profile] drawsblood 2023-06-15 06:27 pm (UTC)(link)
[ If it weren't for her healing ribs (that he's not sure she's actually had looked at yet or not), he'd hoist her up to hold her against him, but the situation being what it is, he keeps her feet on the floor and just leans down to kiss her deeply. If she's kissing him because she doesn't know what to say, he understands that completely. That's him like 95% of the time anyway. If she's kissing him because she wants to ignore his words and still blame herself, he doesn't want that at all. He supposes time will tell. ]
singlelogbridge: (74)

[personal profile] singlelogbridge 2023-06-15 06:52 pm (UTC)(link)
[He takes a shaky breath, cringing at the familiar cold creeping over him and letting his eyes fall closed for a moment.]

Strength? No. [He shakes his head, biting back a soft whimper as his joints stiffen. He isn't afraid of death, not really, but he's not particularly fond of the dying part, and the sensation stealing over him is a perfect imitation even if he tells himself he isn't really dying. He's almost sure he's right about that.]

This isn't strength. [It's just acceptance. What else is there to reach for now? Wei Wuxian has never been a man easily susceptible to denial and for all that he thought he couldn't exist with all of the mistakes he'd made, he's here, isn't he? Existing. living. Heart thumping and blood running through his veins. And he loves. (Oh, how he loves. For what other reason would his heart continue to beat?)

He struggles forward, fighting through the death wrapping itself around his limbs to keep moving, though where he's going, he doesn't know. And all at once he finds himself irritated.
]

You repeat facts and think yourself frightening. Maybe I'm not strong, maybe you're just really bad at whatever it is you're trying to do.
singlelogbridge: (222)

[personal profile] singlelogbridge 2023-06-15 08:18 pm (UTC)(link)
[Thank you. Wei Wuxian breathes the words out too quietly even for ninja hearing, but he's sure Shisui must have heard it nonetheless, wherever he is. Lifting a hand to wipe surreptitiously at his eyes, he drops it as he turns back to Itachi. His hand slips easily into his friend's, squeezing lightly. I'm here.]

Of course. [I'll be here, always.

His thoughts drift to Shisui's smile, to the devotion they share to one man, to the loss that shaped that same man in such painful ways.

I promise to take it from here, Shisui.

His eyes drift to the stars and he smiles.
]

I'm not going anywhere.
deaddrop: (ixamatus varius)

[personal profile] deaddrop 2023-06-15 08:25 pm (UTC)(link)
I think it's safe to say it has something to do with the orbs—probably what happened to the orbs and to the previous crew.

[At least until they have evidence to the contrary. Occam's Razor seems appropriate for the situation: until they find evidence of more variables, focus on what they have in front of them.

Because they have plenty.]


Olivia was Ximilia's AI before Viveca. Who, it's worth noting, used to be human and a crew member.

[Frowning as she considers the implications.]

As I understand it, she was corrupted previously, but she rebooted in the computer system a few months ago.

Hard to say what condition this version is in.
kenpachi: (pic#16100670)

[personal profile] kenpachi 2023-06-15 10:49 pm (UTC)(link)
Oh, I wouldn't worry about me, Miss Andy.

her smile is pleasant enough, and she reaches out and presses her fingertips, feather-light against andy's elbow. it's a small gesture of comfort, and somehow her touch leaves behind a cooling sensation all its own — something like the chill of a mountain stream.

the scene unfolds before them, of two women with what she recognizes as an immediate and unmistakable bond. the circumstances were different, worlds and lives away — but was it not just the same, when she met that boy...? the quality of being known, of seeing yourself reflected in another... that transcends any era, any language, any culture.


I've known deserts, too.

literal or metaphoric, she does not say. but she does nod towards the women, her expression tender.

May I ask her name?
locumstudentesquire: (pic#15737455)

[personal profile] locumstudentesquire 2023-06-15 11:58 pm (UTC)(link)
[As soon as Ryunosuke dares to touch the shard, whatever degree of light there is in the training room drops off significantly. Their surroundings seem to almost melt right out of existence, revealing a dark and foggy London street beneath...

Normally, Ryunosuke thinks he would be glad to see Baker Street again. Something about this memory, though... It makes the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, a sense of dread starting to creep over him. There's only one time he can remember ever being outside on the road here, when it was this late, and this dark, and this quiet.

Windibank's pawnbrokery is right there in front of them both, closer inspection of which almost immediately confirms his worst fears. He sucks in a startled breath, scoping the open door in the dim light of the gas streetlamps. The faintest flicker of a small oil lamp can be seen burning within the dark innards of the shop...]


No... No, not this--
blackfire: (pic#15765212)

[personal profile] blackfire 2023-06-16 12:30 am (UTC)(link)
his gaze cuts over. it lingers, arrested, on the man's face as if he is somehow seeing him for the first time. for the millionth time.

all the stars the universe over hold precious little near to glory unless reflected in wei wuxian's eyes, anyway.

then, simply:


I know.
deaddrop: (pic#15038459)

[personal profile] deaddrop 2023-06-16 01:17 am (UTC)(link)
You're not worried about me, are you?

[She asks it lightly, joking in a tone that implies he shouldn't. That might imply most people wouldn't.]
deaddrop: (pic#15038465)

[personal profile] deaddrop 2023-06-16 01:51 am (UTC)(link)
For science.

[That may be agreement, or it may just be clarification, teasing his theory.]

There is, yeah. A couple of them, I think. McCoy is even from the future.

I can't really say there's a good reason not to, but it seems like maybe I shouldn't make anyone more work.
essenceofdeadlybeasts: (157)

[personal profile] essenceofdeadlybeasts 2023-06-16 01:59 am (UTC)(link)
...well, I've never had any before so it could be worth the try.

[Novelty was sounding pretty good about now. They could do with the distraction. That made freeze dried ice cream look tempting. Maybe get a few dumb jokes out of them, or reminiscing about dumb kid moments like wanting to be an astronaut or something.

He can't keep the little bit of sadness from his eyes as he hears her last words. He wished he could give it to them. That he could give his own regret up to give Natasha one that she wanted but was too afraid to ask for.]


I- I knew. I just- [The words were hard to get out.] We joked about it a little? You know, to make it easier to swallow. To say it...without saying it. But then this- today happened. And I saw it. And now this. And it's real, and I wish it wasn't.

[Like he knew she did, too.]
essenceofdeadlybeasts: (066)

[personal profile] essenceofdeadlybeasts 2023-06-16 02:05 am (UTC)(link)
Not a bad trade-off. I couldn't think of a better person to have hanging around through thick and thin.

[He smiled at her. If this were another, happier moment he'd throw her one of his boyish winks like he was trying to charm or tease her--but this was not that kind of moment. His smile was forced in the sort of way that was genuine but depressing rather than carefree.]
essenceofdeadlybeasts: (123)

[personal profile] essenceofdeadlybeasts 2023-06-16 02:14 am (UTC)(link)
[He freezes as he hears her voice. As he hears her voice. Andy. From not far away. He watches her die along with the other woman and he blinks something away from his eye.

He finally turns to look away and find the source of the voice. Andy. Not far from him in the crowd. He shoves his way over although he now recognizes the eerie fact that its less that he shoves his way past shoulders and bodies in his way as simply wades through them like ocean waves. He ignores it, and doesn't stop until he's in front of Andy.

He eyes her carefully. Something like relief eventually passes over his face and then his breathing eases a little. He ignores the embarrassment in the pit of his stomach and focuses on her.]


It felt real for a moment. Real shitty.