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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

rootlessly: (pic#16518619)

[personal profile] rootlessly 2023-06-18 08:05 am (UTC)(link)
[Vash, quite frankly, stares at Newt as though he is the alien, here, before making a brief disgruntled little-kid noise, unsettled.]

Maybe it's because of having to come out of cold sleep so suddenly....
You really don't remember what Plants are?
rootlessly: (pic#16304716)

[personal profile] rootlessly 2023-06-18 08:15 am (UTC)(link)
Mm, having a life cut short like that all of a sudden is always difficult, whoever it is.

[That's always been the crux of Vash's no-killing code -- beginning from the premise that every life lost was a tragedy, regardless of what kind of people those lives belonged to.]

What is it he was trying to do with this creature? ...And what happened to its mother?
peasant: (alina15321)

[personal profile] peasant 2023-06-18 08:19 am (UTC)(link)
[ it doesn't take much effort, on his part. her small size makes for equally small strides, incapable of calmly hastening at a pace beyond a trot. she slows her steps, if only to appear marginally less like she's fleeing from a strained conversation — and the strange churn of emotions it's stirred, in response.

what's more impressive, perhaps, is the careful arrangement of her expression. it's convincingly innocuous, as if she hadn't just tried to subtly scurry from the room.
]

What is it?
rootlessly: (pic#16304081)

[personal profile] rootlessly 2023-06-18 08:20 am (UTC)(link)
[On some level, repeating the obvious is almost more comfortable than having to get into what this memory was about. Easier, certainly.]

We are.

[But the shoe had to drop sometime. His jaw works, and he closes his eyes briefly for a moment, before he...ah, well. He decides to stall, frankly.]

Which part, specifically?
dispassioned: (pic#16232151)

[personal profile] dispassioned 2023-06-18 08:48 am (UTC)(link)
[He catches up with her near the door of the sunlight room and reaches for her hand.]

Do you honestly want me to ask you questions? I'm not...indifferent. [That's the word she'd used before.] That's not what this is.
morethan084: (unsure/sideeye)

[personal profile] morethan084 2023-06-18 01:46 pm (UTC)(link)
[It’s not ideal, but she’s too physically exhausted to continue to be as stubborn as she normally is.]

Okay.

[Daisy says quietly, walking back in the direction where the rooms normally were. When they enter, there are already a few people sleeping on the ground. Others were sitting in a circle talking. Daisy leads them both towards a quiet corner, away from the small crowd.

Relaxing a little when she doesn’t see the Darkling in here, Daisy looks at Joric.]


I didn’t imagine I’d ever be having a sleepover in my 30s.
blackfire: (pic#15690536)

itt: itachi being 100 percent certain he could fist fight a kaiju in a parking lot

[personal profile] blackfire 2023-06-18 03:15 pm (UTC)(link)
itachi's attention remains on newt, red eyes shifting over him to take in the details. the rattling bones of the earth do not trouble him — because his lived experience has included such dangers, and because he knows that the world they now occupy exists only in newton's mind.

the people are cowering around them, and he does spare a moment wondering just how many made it out alive. he knows tsukuyomi will work within this memory world — but it affects the mind of the memory's progenitor. there is no guarantee that susano'o would be the same, for all he is certain that something struggling this much to break through the earth would be manageable by his avatar. he is not so arrogant as to guarantee his own victory, but he could distract it long enough —

his mouth thins to a line, and then:


We are aboard the Ximilia. You have lived there for two years. We are currently trapped in your memory of this event. Think of Clara.
coordination: (We talked about casserole the other day)

[personal profile] coordination 2023-06-18 03:24 pm (UTC)(link)
[ No this will clearly be all joy and happiness and sunshine. : )

Another nice past me saving present me so much of the flavor text that she'll experience here is already DESCRIBED. But for the sake a few more things she'll just kind of inherently know coming out of this are:
- this is the culmination of something that Yzak had been agonizingly searching for for a while
- the decision is also something that heavily impacts expectations on his life moving forward, and it was incredibly hard to wrestle with those shadows that would hold him back from facing it in the past
- he is incredibly gay
- the contract worked, so victory(...?)

But while the memory itself is determined, scared yet optimistic, one can even say good with the knowledge that it worked, there's something that feels ... wrong about it. Something detached from the memory itself yet completely surrounding it, almost suffocating those positive feelings in it. It's all a haze of a hurt so deep it nearly feels like it's suffocating you. Failure, because everything was lost in the end anyway. Pointlessness, because the strife to get that far wasn't even rewarded with the ability to enjoy the outcome; only get a mere, teasing taste before it was all taken away, like offering a drop a water to someone dying in a desert. Like winning a race and dying one step over the finish line. Those feelings are all so strong they mar the original memory itself now.

Meanwhile for poor Yzak who is also reliving this, he's not only being hit with those feelings. But the pain of his arm being taken from him is still so fresh to him that it nearly feels real, so by the time he comes to as the memory recedes, Ciri will hear a bam as he reels and slams against the nearest wall, his left arm grabbing harshly at his right side. ]
blackfire: (pic#15365297)

okay! <3

[personal profile] blackfire 2023-06-18 03:42 pm (UTC)(link)
she moves a little like the kirin of legend. there is something fey and almost shy to her — less the bitter confidence that has been hard-won. and she looks young, in a way that is more about the eyes than any sign of physical aging. he wonders how long before the bulk of all her traumas this memory falls, and there is a protective twinge at the back of his mind that drives him to look away from her, a brief flicker of red eyes elsewhere.

Is it, now?

he has come to favour blue, aboard the ximilia. that rich, deep colour so associated with the uchiha, like the blush of a midnight sky lit by a ribbon of cobalt aurora. but he is not terribly surprised to find himself in black, something that mirrors the robes of the akatsuki. he cannot say if it is more a statement on how alina sees him, or how he sees himself.

one corner of his mouth quirks upwards in a sort of wry irony. then:


I suppose he will have to forgive me my trespasses, then.
drawsblood: (44)

[personal profile] drawsblood 2023-06-18 03:45 pm (UTC)(link)
Possessed... I suppose so. Not by a conscious, living thing, but by a magic spell.

[ He isn't exactly sure what Newt thinks of magic, but Joric speaks plainly. It's no time for a discussion on whether magic is science or not. ]

I turn into a rage-fulled weapon, meant to destroy all in my path. And my mind is gone completely. I don't know what I've done until the spell recedes back to wait until next time.
drawsblood: (2)

[personal profile] drawsblood 2023-06-18 03:50 pm (UTC)(link)
[ He puts a pillow under his arm and grabs another before giving her a curious look. A thermal blanket is grabbed next and he works on arranging the pillows lengthwise into a sort of mattress. ]

I take it sleepovers are when you share a space with a group of others to sleep? Is that something only children do?

[ Because sleeping around others is what they do in the army. Only high ranking soldiers had private tents. And one unlucky man in chains they wanted to keep hidden from others. ]
blackfire: (itachi027)

[personal profile] blackfire 2023-06-18 04:01 pm (UTC)(link)
the boy gets a sharp look, but he does not repeat himself — he knows he was understood, and his tolerance for wasting his own breath is low at the best of times but especially low now, when it feels like the air has gone out of the room. because there could be no mistaking what memory, what it means or sizhui's reaction to it.

wei wuxian, who has been so certain now for nearly two years that he died — is either mistaken, or he was brought back by some other means not unlike edo tensei.

he knows that the man would not appreciate his interrogating his son, so he does not press further. simply sets his jaw, and waits.
coordination: (It's not easy being good)

[personal profile] coordination 2023-06-18 05:00 pm (UTC)(link)
[ He could make a remark about her not needing to be loud with her footsteps, his hearing is advanced, after all. But he doesn't, simply listening to her approach and vaguely tracking her as she does. ]

So it seems. [ He speaks to her remark about the side effects, dry. ] They've got to get their chaos any way they can, after all.

[ Yzak lets out a small contemplative noise at her offer. Does he want to go to the mess hall? Maybe somewhere different to sit for a while and reorient is a good idea, and he can grab a small bite, too. ]

The mess hall sounds fine. If the station wasn't so different in some ways I'd be able to make it there fine on my own. [ Of course he has to state that, so he doesn't appear as helpless as he feels. But it is true that some rooms are completely different than they're used to them being. He reaches out his left arm as an acceptance to her offer. ]
deaddrop: (mitrager noordam)

[personal profile] deaddrop 2023-06-18 05:06 pm (UTC)(link)
I appreciate your confidence in me.

[Her smile reaches her eyes, and the words are maybe less ironic than they'd often be.]

You know... I think I still owe you a kiss.
blackfire: (pic#15365301)

[personal profile] blackfire 2023-06-18 05:28 pm (UTC)(link)
he has learned to tread cautiously, wary of entering rooms where memories may be playing out. he is not the man he was two years ago, who would have grasped at any weapon to hold against another on the off chance such action might be necessary or carry value. now, he simply does his best to avoid them — but they are not all so easily circumvented.

he watches the memory play out with his jaw faintly set. by the time the memory cracks and splinters around them, shattering to nothingness save they two in a dimly lit, dusty room he is already shaking his head. he busies himself a moment with a satchel slung crossbody, averting his eyes more to give her a moment's relative privacy rather than because he needs to see what he's doing to locate the water bottle in his bag. he cracks it, takes a drink and then proffers it to her.


Rey, is it?

he knows full well who she is, but it is a cautious politeness that sees him ask, rather than assert.
drawsblood: (46)

[personal profile] drawsblood 2023-06-18 05:36 pm (UTC)(link)
[ A smile spreads across his face. Their talk feels like it was ages ago but that's only because so much has happened in the short amount of time since then. ]

I'm sure that you do.
blackfire: (itachi028)

[personal profile] blackfire 2023-06-18 05:59 pm (UTC)(link)
he makes a soft heh of sound, and then tips his hand towards the room's exit, indicating they should perhaps vacate the area.

I have been compiling a rough map of the affected areas. However, even knowing where these events are being triggered is not a guarantee one will be able to avoid them.

he can't quite bring himself to trust the file transfer feature of the earpieces at the moment, so instead he pulls a piece of cardstock paper out of one of his (many) ninja pouches and proffers it. it's an eerily precise map, done perfectly to scale and with each stroke and annotation being just a little too perfect. all the notes are in japanese, of course.

Here.
singlelogbridge: (22)

[personal profile] singlelogbridge 2023-06-18 07:25 pm (UTC)(link)
(Green: kidnapping Ciri please!)
oiorpata: (107)

[personal profile] oiorpata 2023-06-18 07:53 pm (UTC)(link)
I've known just about everything. [ out of all the deserts she's been to, this one has a bizarre but fond place for her, despite the vast empty expanse of it, especially so long ago. ]

[ the coolness of unohana's touch isn't lost on her, but she's too distracted. ]

[ she watches quỳnh, watches the way she revives and eagerly drinks the water her past self offers. the sunburn across her skin, her peeling lips, all of it heals too as she curls towards the water, towards andromache. ]


Quỳnh. We get out of here, eventually. I promise you're not about to see something terrible.
kenpachi: (pic#16094480)

[personal profile] kenpachi 2023-06-18 08:08 pm (UTC)(link)
she makes a faint, soft hm of sound. unlike andy, her attention is not focused on the simulacrum of the past but on the woman at her side. her expression is attentive, brow furrowed just so in concern.

Do you believe it would upset me to witness a terrible thing?
oiorpata: (61)

[personal profile] oiorpata 2023-06-18 08:19 pm (UTC)(link)
[ she tries to keep her face unmoved, but andy is not an unemotional machine. the corners of her mouth are down, her eyebrows furrowed. ]

Probably because it was shitty.

[ she's a little hollowed out by it, but it's not like she hasn't seen it before. hasn't seen it repeatedly. she'd already hallucinated a similar moment back in october. ]

It happened, just a long time ago. [ more recent in her life, technically, but long by a normal human standard. ]
oiorpata: (123)

[personal profile] oiorpata 2023-06-18 08:24 pm (UTC)(link)
We make it out alive. [ she says it with a trace of fond humor. of course they do. they were newly immortal and the world was theirs. if one of them died again along the way, it didn't matter. ] This isn't a bad memory, I promise.

[ andy looks upward, not directly at the sun, but trying to gauge it's location and the time of day. ]

I carried her out. South, I think. [ she adjusts quỳnh in her arms, letting her drink about half the pouch. she'll move eventually, but it was definitely a long few minutes of wonderment about finally finding this woman she'd been dreaming about for a century. ]
oiorpata: (32)

[personal profile] oiorpata 2023-06-18 08:32 pm (UTC)(link)
[ there are friends and then there are friends you see combat with, and andy knows there's a certain understanding and depth that comes from the violence of the latter that the former lacks. ]

[ she frowns, thoughtfully. ]


Was this the second war I was seeing then?
peasant: (alina05111)

[personal profile] peasant 2023-06-18 08:35 pm (UTC)(link)
[ it's that singular gesture that halts her in her steps, finally. she allows him to scoop her hand into his, absent of any resistance. ]

Then what is it?

[ on a surface level, without diving deeper — that's how it appears. but she isn't unaware that there is always more, with him. always more to him than just the placid stillness of his expressions, the measured calm in his inflections.

she drags in a breath, bulldozes past that incessant need for an answer, even as it hangs in the air between them.
]

You know how difficult this is for me. I — opened myself to you.

[ or made the attempt, at any rate. offered to bridge a gap her secrecy has wedged between them. and here she is, now, feeling as though he'd simply left her to dangle. ]