i know you, that look in your eyes is so familiar a gleam

[thespaceopera]

[ Calibration Rooms ]
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ROOMS BY CHARACTER

N - P Nami Natalie Goodman Natasha Romanoff Noctis Lucis Caelum Nono Okita Souji Otono-Tachibana Makie Pavel Chekov Prompto

Q - S Riona Cousland Theirin Rip Hunter Sam Winchester Seymour Krelborn Shinji Ikari Shouta Aizawa Signy Mallory Sokka Sorey Steve Rogers

T - V Takashi Shirogane Takeshi Tyrion Lannister Uraraka Ochako Vash the Stampede Velvet Crowe Victor Nikiforov

W - Z Yuan Ka-Fai Zaveid Zelda

Comments

[directed]

You don't seem entirely troubled by that.

[Certainly not so much as Rip is. He knows there are visitors, and he knows what they could theoretically see--but when he wakes, he can only guess at what memories they've managed to pluck. As he exists now there's little he can do to prevent anyone from seeing the worst; the information is there if they're after it.

The most he can hope for is to reduce the number of objects they might draw from, and in turn better the odds of them not seeing the worst of what lurks within his mind.

What she asks in the end is a fair enough question. Rip nods for a moment, his gaze focused seemingly on nothing. In truth he searches a rather complex database--how he accesses his memories in this state--before motioning towards the secondary console.]

This way. [The images displayed are all that of some interior part of the Waverider. They flash between a corridor displaying a closed door,, a medical bay, and the bridge, though it's notably different in appearance. The larger pilot's station is instead a single chair, and the console she stands at is a flat table. All the rooms are empty, giving away no indication of the specific memories they represent.]

You need only touch the one you wish to bring up the data. [To become immersed in the associated memory.]

(cw: talk of family/child death in the bridge, murder in the medical bay.)

[passingthrough]

Mm, it's my second rodeo. I've been toyed with for years now. Possibly a lot of years. I don't think time passed the same way in the last place. [It was seven years instead of the one she thought it was though her aging doesn't reflect it.] So it's officially troubling, but not new. Even before that I've had telepaths in my head. [Mostly Jean. Rogue doesn't really count as one, but she's sucked up her memories and powers before.

She goes to the console he directs her to and takes a look. She might have excluded the bridge since she's already there, but because it's different she actually selects it.]

[directed]

[In the end, it's a logical enough assessment. One that has Rip nodding a bit in appreciation.]

Fair enough, then. [Though still not what Rip would consider pleasant by a long shot. He dreads to think what happens if he ever gets so used to it all.

In the meantime, however, Kitty has made her choice; her fingers bring up the bridge, and just like before, the environment would immediately change; no longer still, you head into the parlor to grab a bag of tools. The ship's taken an unfortunate amount of damage, and worse, the mass of people standing about utterly clueless have gotten on your last nerve.

This should have been simple almost to the point of pain; instead, it's just one massive headache. You spout out status and plan with practiced ease, offer up a bit more detail when asked because of course they don't know what the temporal zone is. They're a bunch of overly-powered, overly-opinionated agents of chaos who don't seem to give a damn about preserving the timeline, no matter what warnings you've issued.

You've had it, honestly. Even as you pull out the necessary tool and begin an initial assessment—something a bit more thorough than oh good, the panel is smoking, you spit out all the things they've done wrong—and there are many.

Already, this is the worst unmitigated disaster of my career! Words you mean down to your core. You turn around, expecting to say more—but instead, you're silenced when a woman punches you rather hard in the face.

She slams you against the wall, wanting answers. Kendra first, then Carter, demanding to know just who had attacked them. You hardly need to look around the rest of the group to know that they want much the same, and in your gut you know there's no choice now. Even if you could fabricate some story, it's only a matter of time before the truth would be revealed anyway.

So you try to spin it. Point out the less-than-linear nature of time to add a twist of truth to the lies. The other woman in the room, Sara, isn't having it. For the second time in short order you find yourself struck in the face, and before that can go any further you demand they please stop hitting you.

They still want the truth. Why aren't you a Time Master? Why are they after us?

If that's a lie, then what about the part where you promised they would be Legends?

It all comes out then. The fact that you chose them not because they are great figures remembered throughout history, but the opposite. That instead of a sanctioned mission, you've manipulated them into a criminal enterprise. That you yourself are the only one who can take them home; any effort to take over the ship by force would end with Gideon refusing to listen, and thank goodness you're prepared for that much at least.

What's harder—so much harder—is when Raymond asks why.

That's when you tell them. About the wife you were advised never to take, the son you were told never to have. That's when you see, remember all too well, the moment you held their dead bodies in your arms and screamed, helpless into the night.

Savage murdered your family. Clever Dr. Palmer, putting it together. Almost—you correct him. Emotion tight in your throat, you tell him that Vandal Savage slaughtered them, because what else can it be called when a monster shoots a child in the face, and leaves his body on the murdering ground like so much refuse? And not just Miranda and Jonas, no. Countless others, throughout the course of time, all in a mad bit to take over the world.

And the Time Masters—that group you have served so loyally for so long, nearly the whole of your life in some fashion—they mean to do nothing.

But you won't. You won't stand idly by while this happens, not after what he's done. The last thing that my child saw in this world was that monster's face, you tell them, unable to hold back the tremble in your voice. But determination offers steel enough a moment later. You make them a promise.

You make it to yourself as well. To Jonas.

You can be damn well sure that when Savage dies the last face he sees will be mine.

The silence hangs thick, after. Martin breaks it, asking for time; easy enough to give, under the circumstances. You need it just as much as they do, and as they file out, you close your eyes, leaning against the console.

When she looks up again, Kitty will once more find herself on the bridge as it is, rather than as it had been.]

[passingthrough]

[It's a lot to take in and it takes a moment to adjust to it in the way that she saw it through his eyes instead of as an observer and then back again.]

Sara. [The word feels too loud even though it's her normal speaking volume.] She was in the fleet briefly. [She knew there was more to her than met the eye, but she hadn't been around long enough to learn much more. This tidbit isn't the most important thing she learned of course, but so much of the rest is so personal, so she says it as a kind of buffer for his sake. Something to focus on that isn't sharing his losses or frustrations or lies with a near stranger.]