(open) like i was never there

[scholiast]

who: lucretia & you!
what: october memory share event
when: 9/10 to 23/10
where: all over
warnings: n/a yet, will update if things get intense

OPEN MEMORIES:

(these memories are all open for anybody to experience! if you'd like them to be shared flick me a message/just reply and we can sort it all out as we go haha. also feel free to text lucretia to let her know you saw one of her memories if u like and we can do it that way too :-) basically i am down for whatever way you wanna interpret these! if you'd like a specific memory or something a little more personal on lucretia's end feel free to hit me up on plurk at blisters and we can sort something out! ♡ )

#1 - beyond the oceansize, i'm unaware (first or third person: happy, relaxed)

(This memory starts out with the bright sun, high in the sky, and slowly unfolds to reveal a tropical scene set out before the viewer, complete with crystal clear ocean, and white, sandy beaches. This is the first Captain Davenport appointed mental health year Lucretia and her crew experienced, after they were quick to capture the light of creation within a day or so of arriving on this world. They were able to write the rest of this cycle off and spend it relaxing by the beach, cooking for each other, swimming, taking time off from fighting off the apocalypse.

During this particular memory, Lucretia is sitting out on the sands, wearing a big floppy sunhat and sandals. She still has her bathing suit on underneath her shorts, as she's been alternating between swimming and sunbathing all day, and generally having a really good time; now, she's got a big sketchpad propped in her lap, and she's sketching with large, loose gestures, just laying down the base of what is later going to be an elaborate portrait.

The memory meanders along, but follows her careful completion of the painting: when it's done, the portrait sits propped on an easel in her quarters, a dedication to the members of the IPRE. Lucretia's family. She is in the middle, holding her book and slightly hunched. Magnus has his arm about her, a broad grin on his face; Davenport, their Captain, is in the front, looking proud and impressive in his tailored jacket. Lup and Taako are arm in arm, and Lup has her other arm flung around Barry's neck, pulling him in close. Merle looks like he's in mid-laugh, turned to face the twins. They're all in their red robed uniforms, but everybody looks so happy, so relaxed.)

#2 - as we stood tall together: first person (proud, nostalgic)

(The second memory is from a much later cycle, no less important than the first. It takes place at the Legato Conservatory, during the ceremony wherein students of the Conservatory submit various works to the Light of Creation in the hopes they will be accepted so they may be granted access to the mysterious caves grouped about the mountain. The criteria for works selected isn't entirely clear, because, unbeknownst to Lucretia and the rest of the Star Blaster crew, the submissions are reviewed and consumed by Voidfish living in the caves. If the submissions are accepted, the Voidfish choose to broadcast those works to the world at large and everybody in it. The submissions, in this way, become immortalised amongst the people who live there. If the Voidfish does not like the submission, it is erased from memory as if it never existed in the first place, so there's a bit of pressure riding on the whole situation.

Lucretia has just submitted a painting to be reviewed: a detailed depiction of a famous city market square from her hometown. Despite having not seen it in fifty years, the painting is remarkably detailed, lovingly so, and even though she's nervous about presenting it to the Light of Creation, it's clear that she's really proud of the work that she's done.

This memory is tinged with a sad sense of nostalgia for her long gone home planet, though it is swiftly replaced with overwhelming pride and excitement when the Voidfish accepts her work, and promptly broadcasts the painting into the minds of everybody on the planet.)

#3 - oh my friends, i am heavy (third person: anxious, uncertain)

(The final memory is of a different nature entirely.

This memory details Lucretia sitting cross-legged on the floor of her quarters on the Star Blaster and she is surrounded by books. Countless journals lie open on the floor and she is sifting through them with shaking hands, a fresh journal propped open on her lap. She has a quill in her left hand and every so often she pauses to scratch out a new line in accordance with something she's just read.

She is compiling every scrap of information into a final journal, one that she will eventually feed to the ship's Voidfish, causing her crew members to forget everything that had happened to them over the last one hundred years. Picking what to keep and what to erase is difficult. There are a lot of memories to sift through, and not all of them are good. Sometimes she has to pause to collect herself; other times she stops writing so she can laugh, soft and fond.

Lucretia has already been at this for half a week without pause: she is tired, and overwhelmingly anxious. But there is a strong current of determination underneath of it all that keeps her going, despite the difficulty of her task. This memory isn't as exciting or fast-paced as the other two: just a long vignette of her pouring over almost one hundred years worth of words as Lucretia tries to reconcile with herself the magnitude of what she is planning to do.)

Comments

[scholiast]

Of course. (She can imagine the stress of it. Davenport had always been the most sensible of all of them: he had died the least amount of times the entire trip. The cycles when they did lose him were chaotic, and upsetting.)

How is he?

[dancingmd]

That was a few years ago so... it's better, now.

[scholiast]

Good.

(She's still feeling a little guilty for her ill-timed humour; she stands, and joins Beverly by the stove, giving her cheek a soft, apologetic kiss.)

I hope that they stop soon. The dreams, the ghosts. This place certainly is something, isn't it.

[dancingmd]

(Beverly readily accepts her apology - how well she knows what it's like to stick your foot in your mouth!)

Me too.

(She strokes Lucretia's cheek with the back of her fingers and gazes at her for a moment before turning to attend to the bacon before it burns.)

To see both Jack and Jean-Luc like that...

[scholiast]

It must have been hard.

(Memories you'd have rather left behind. Lucretia hums, cheek pleasantly warm where Beverly had touched it.)

I keep seeing my mother. Did I tell you? My mother, and one of the abjudicators that I killed during my... my cycle alone.

[dancingmd]

(She pauses before scooping out the cooked bacon onto a paper towel. The fact that Lucretia's killed someone doesn't immediately worry her as much as perhaps it should but well... she can hardly claim innocence herself on that front. Still, the admission is a heavy one.)

You didn't. (She looks over at Lucretia.) Are you all right?

[scholiast]

I'm fine.

(She's watching Beverly cautiously, unsure of how this information will be recieved.) Neither of them have... have spoken to me. They just linger in silence and watch.

(It's disturbing. The adjudicator watches passively, their lips a straight line; her mother, fondly? Accusingly? Lucretia can't tell. She's been too nervous to look at her head on.)

[dancingmd]

Usually ghosts...want something, right? Some sort of closure?

(Her frown says she is not altogether sure of what she's saying. After all, ghosts don't exist in her world. It worked with Jack at least, but then he was a relatively benevolent, if insistant, ghost.)

[scholiast]

Maybe... I don't think that they're real ghosts, though.

(Read: she doesn't want them to be real ghosts. It's much easier to think of it as an egregious form of magic rather than to deal with closure that she doesn't know how to give them.)

It may be necromancy. (Sigh.) Barry would know, if he were here.

[dancingmd]

Necromancy?

(She's not sure exactly what that is but it sounds alarming - she knows at least what necro means.)

[scholiast]

Mastery over death. The magic is mostly used to reanimate dead bodies though, not uh... not ghosts? Ghosts don't really factor in anywhere.

(She can tell from the look on Beverly's face that necromantic magic doesn't exist on her end. Oops.)

[dancingmd]

(Beverly shudders.)

Why would anyone want to do that?!

[scholiast]

It's very nasty magic, to put it delicately, but highly powerful. It has its benefits for those with looser morals.

(She's morbidly fascinated by the practice personally; she's been lucky to have Barry's brain to pick.)

[dancingmd]

I'm glad such things don't exist in my world.

(Well. Mostly. Presumably Q could do something akin to it but even he doesn't seem to like to mess with that sort of thing much.)

[scholiast]

I'm glad for you too, really. Uh, how did we get on this subject? We should change it.

(She feels like she's creeped Beverly out a little bit, oops.)

[dancingmd]

(Only a little.)

We were talking about shared dreams.

(She pauses, considering whether or not she should tell her about Taako's dream. She doesn't want to force the issue but then... what if Lucretia just needs that opening to talk?)

I saw you, you know... in one of Taako's memories.

[scholiast]

(She opens her mouth to say 'that's right', but her words die right there in the back of her throat the moment Beverly mentions Taako.)

Oh.

(In one of Taako's memories. Well. Hopefully it's not obvious how quick she is to assume the worst of the situation. Her shoulders are rigid, expression uncertain.)

What... what was the memory about?

[dancingmd]

(Seeing that stiffness, she hastens to reassure her.)

It was... (Christmas, she almost says, but she realizes that's not quite right) I forget the name of the holiday but you were all together, opening presents and you were braiding Taako's hair.

[scholiast]

Candlenights.

(She relaxes, but her smile is sad. She knows exactly which night Beverly is talking about, can even remember what she had been humming as she ran her fingers through Taako's hair. She misses that so much.)

It used to be like that all the time before... well, everything. (She shrugs a shoulder, as if this topic of conversation isn't deeply troubling to her. She has been meaning to sit and talk with Beverly about this for a while now, but she's kept finding excuses not to bring it up. It's hard to find the right place in a conversation in which to drop the story of how you ruined the life of one of your very dear friends.)

[dancingmd]

(Taako clearly missed it too. Just what was it that caused such a rift between them?)

Do you want to talk about it? That "everything"?

(Does she need to talk about it, more like.)

[scholiast]

I...

(She looks deeply conflicted for a moment, then nods, glancing hesitantly at Beverly. She's been making breakfast for the two of them and now Lucretia's about to bring this big ugly story into the room with them.)

I do. Is that okay?

[dancingmd]

(Her brow furrows.)

Of course it's okay - I'm always here to listen, whenever you need, you know that, right?

[scholiast]

Yeah, I know.

(It would be childish for Lucretia to ask her if she will promise not to think badly of her; she bites the inside of her cheek, and looks away.)

Okay.

I've mentioned my mission before, but did I ever mention why we were on it? Have I told you about the Hunger?

[dancingmd]

(Poor Lucretia - she's really nervous about this, isn't she? Beverly reaches out to rub her upper arm reassuringly.)

A little. You've mentioned it but never gone into much detail.

[scholiast]

(Lucretia pauses for a moment, wondering how best to put this and drawing comfort from Beverly's touch.)

The Hunger is a... a plane. One that can consume others, born of nihilism. It's been following us for a century, trying to collect the light of creation from every new plane we visit before we can. On the ninety-ninth plane, we decided that continuing to try and collect the light wasn't working. A plan was made to starve it out instead.

(Here she sighs, expression suddenly fathomless.) I... didn't agree with the plan, but I was overruled. Six to one. We split what light we had and turned it into seven powerful relics that we could hide in plain sight, and for ten months or so it worked. The Hunger didn't find the relics, but... the people of Abeir Toril did.

(She pinches the bridge of her nose, giving herself a moment to collect her thoughts.) Sorry.