Actually, yes. Taichi-kun mentioned digital monsters and I was curious to see if I could find something on them. I wanted to try cross-referencing them with demons.
[she smiles, but-- well, it's memshare week! so this moment is about to get ruined pretty handily, as suddenly they're both experiencing something else.]
[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 the hunger's dark storm descends on this world 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 between worlds and white threads begin to emanate from the ship's bond engine, 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."]
But that was-- as awful as it was, I think that it was a necessary catalyst, of a sort. If I hadn't been through it, then... well, before that, I was only there to chronicle our mission, not participate in it so much. I wouldn't have become who I am without it.
... I understand what that's like. Not the particular situation, but... sometimes you get drawn into things and it's not because of what you would prefer but what needed to be done.
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[ Nerd. ]
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[double nerd.]
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[ save them. ]
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[they can't be saved...]
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[ She's aware. ]
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[she smiles, but-- well, it's memshare week! so this moment is about to get ruined pretty handily, as suddenly they're both experiencing something else.]
[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 the hunger's dark storm descends on this world 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 between worlds and white threads begin to emanate from the ship's bond engine, 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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She's blinking, eyes wide and expression a little horrified by everything that just transpired. That... that was a lot. ]
Lucretia...
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[she rubs at her face, exhaling slowly; it's not a very easy one to relive, either.]
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Are you all right?
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[she's had time to deal with it, and while it certainly changed her-- it wasn't in bad ways, she thinks.]
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[a slight shake of her head, there.]
But that was-- as awful as it was, I think that it was a necessary catalyst, of a sort. If I hadn't been through it, then... well, before that, I was only there to chronicle our mission, not participate in it so much. I wouldn't have become who I am without it.
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