driftfleet | Libuscha IV System Mingle (no. 1)

[A low, soft rasp of a laugh escapes her. Familiar, the girl says, though she was certain that would not last.]

A story, is it.

[What a question.

It really was a good question, as strange as it was to be gently asked for it. In a way, perhaps it was what had brought them to this place, although she couldn't imagine Lup wanting to stay in her company even if she could put the story to words. Always a risk, but it was not as if she knew what she could truly gain from any of this. Clarity? Who knew. She had spent so much time locked up with herself that she couldn't imagine ever opening up to anyone, but this -- reality -- had really all but done it's best to nudge her along.

What did it matter, if she did not know if she would wake up from her own living nightmare at all in the place she belonged.

It wasn't as if there weren't people there already who knew parts of the story. Those who could easily spread them at any time if they wished. Was it not, perhaps, better to do so herself? Brace herself for the rejection that would come. At least it would be informed and not due to someone else's words.

And so she falls quiet for a moment, watching Lup, before making a decision, as she makes a point to carefully lower herself down to the ground to sit as well. Not easily, but at least it keeps them... reasonably eye level.

Storytime, as if she had an answer for her own self. How many days had she stared at herself in the mirror and yet still continued on anyway.]

... I am certain there are those here who could tell you parts of that better than I. The story of the evil witch Haggar who faithfully served her empire, conquering the universe.

[She does not have to do this, and yet here she was.]

Many did not know where this witch had come from. She was an enigma to the people, an enigma to herself. But that did not matter, not so long as there was her Emperor to serve, and there were improvements to be made. Weapons to be created. Worlds conquered or drained because of her creations and it did not matter if they were no longer of use to the Empire. A cruel and ... most deadly force, without care or remorse.

[Lup sits quietly as she listens, fingers rolling listlessly over the stone in her hand. It is different, based on those words. Not saving, not helping, not just a series of misplaced good deeds turned bad. Evil, she'd said. Conquering the universe. And as she continues, it becomes clear that this isn't just some kind of outlandish metaphor, but a very literal thing. Worlds... gone, or ruined. It's awful. She can only imagine the level of death and suffering that must have brought to people across the universe, however far this had spread. Villain... feels fitting, in light of that.

She thinks of Merle, then, and of the years of parlay with the Hunger. Of watching him die over and over, all for the sake of speaking with the monster that had hunted them, hunted the light, consumed countless worlds and entire planer systems. Learning things, sacrificing information, taking risks and extending a hand to the only one who ever gave them a face to hate, to fear, to wonder about.

"Are you my friend?" had been his question, when he came back for the final time. Davenport had shaken his head at the wasted effort. Lucretia questioned him softly, in the way she so often did, what John's answer had been: angry and cryptic and defeated and too cruel to bear, and after Merle told them, he said he wasn't going back anymore. No one argued.

Are you my friend. That part... that part had been important. It hadn't really felt it at the time, but something about his eyes as he said it had stuck with her.

Lup purses her lips tightly, considering all of it, and holds silent, waiting. It's an incomplete picture, seemingly not the same person who sits beside her now.]

[She was still there. Listening, not interrupting. What that was a sign of she could not be certain of.

Lup had asked for the villain first, and so a villain story she would receive. There were other parts, fallen through the cracks, buried by centuries and darkness and who knew what else. She could barely scrape at them herself, now, only barely filling in the gaps with her own self-delving and still missing so many of the pieces.

The silence wasn't surprising, even if she needed the pause to gather herself and reflect on what she had just said. It was a lot to say and a lot to... lay on a person, who had their own burdens, own complexities. But... the girl was still there. Still willing to listen on, in spite of everything she had just said.

It was... perplexing.

Her gaze found the water. Still on her to speak, then. The words find their own way through, her tone quiet.]

... for the longest time, that was all the witch knew, and all that anyone came to know of the witch, part of the empire or not. As long as her Emperor was pleased by her results, and trusted her, little else mattered. Even if she could not understand why he trusted her so implicitly, could not comprehend why he even allowed such a strange being like her so much say in his empire, a place at his side, as so many questioned this decision behind his back. She chose not to question those matters for herself, because doing so... got in the way of everything else.

[She pauses, again, because, even though she had gotten herself on a roll with talking it wasn't exactly the easiest of things to do.]

[The way she's describing what happened is noteworthy. "The witch", "she", "her". Not "I". It implies a lot of things, but first and foremost the othered nature of the speech confirms what Lup had already suspected. Something changed, something made her... aware, perhaps, of what she was doing. Like her morality had shut off, or maybe never existed in the first place. It would explain why she's so wary of... of joy, or self-indulgence, something as simple as good food and good company. It explains Kova, the things she'd apparently forgotten.

Quite the story.

Lup lifts her arm, chucking the stone at last, the soft plip in the distance cutting into Haggar's speech.]

So what changed?

What indeed...

[She murmurs, though in her own pause she uses the moment to find her own stone, and attempt to make the same movement with it as Lup does. It does not skip gracefully, but perhaps it had not been the right kind. Splish into the deep, the waters rippling out.

The story still had yet to go on, and after watching some of the ripples in the pool start to cease she continues, her tone even once more.]

The battles in the war were... escalating for the first time in untold years. An ancient weapon that the Emperor coveted above all else because it had once been his had been found, and it was being utilized against the empire. The Emperor became driven toward obtaining it, at the risk of his own life. Against the advice of the witch, he entered a critical battle, and was rendered... unconscious.

[A pause again, her voice softening, as she reflects on those circumstances, gaze drifting away once more. How was there still so much more to this? What good did it do, to say it all. And yet she had not reached the point, even. The girl had stayed with her this far.]

The Witch... had the Emperor’s son called back to lead the empire in his absence, in the hopes to maintain stability, for without the strong leadership of the Emperor the Empire would crumble and she knew this. It was her duty to uphold his vision in the best way she could. But the results of that battle had left her... rattled. Things were not progressing as they should have. The Emperor's son had his own plans which... conflicted with those that the Emperor would have wanted. This... would not do.

[And she could feel herself back, back in those flickering moments even as she told the story in this strange way.]

The witch had to revive the Emperor, to fix all of this. It was the only thing to do. In doing so, however... something happened. Something that surprised her. For you see, the witch had only known she was the witch. There had not been a before; she simply was. Her lack of a history did not concern her. Except... suddenly, there it was. A... realization.

[There's a lot she could say to that - about having no sympathy for some creep who's trying to take over the universe getting knocked on his ass, having the tables turned with his own weapon - but for once she keeps her mouth shut. Even if the situation isn't more complex than that, it's still a shitty thing to say to someone who's obviously knee-deep in it. Maybe she'd say as much to a stranger, if this were somehow their first meeting. But it's not, and she can't fake it. Doesn't really want to, either.

If this is how you get what you want from the tree, then... well, she's come this far. Best not judge. She'd probably look like a horrible monster to a relative of anyone who ever died in a city that the gauntlet burned, and in the retelling she wouldn't be especially kind to herself, either.

She finds two more small stones, softly clacking them together like worry beads.]

A realization of... history, I assume.

[Her gaze returns to Lup at the response, for a brief moment. She's glad for it, really; she wondered how long she could go on without some interruption. Even if this was the hardest part to tell; the vulnerability of it.]

... yes. The barest scraps of a history that she could not even recognize at first. She could not even recognize her own face. The name of a person long named dead... one that belonged to the Emperor's wife.

[Her gaze drops toward the pool once more. Even now, she's left out so much.]

However, the empire and the war are still... everything, there. Most of her important recollections have been... here. To what end that serves, I know not.

[Other than to give her a constant state of misery, perhaps, but she deserved that.]

[Quite the puzzle. There's no easy answer for any of it, though she's left with plenty of questions.]

Probably for the drama of it all, going by my experience. But I think we already knew that.

[She finally glances over at Haggar, stonefaced, her expression carefully controlled. Not judging, but not really accepting, either. She's not ready to make that call.]

So what are your goals, then? Not as the witch, but as... whatever you are, now?

[Which she's fine with, all things considered. Lup has been incredibly... patient with all this. Not many would listen to a villain tell a story and not judge them immediately for it. She knew she was still a terrible person, capable of terrible things.

But maybe there was something about being essentially put into a time out that allowed the time to ... actually think about things. Even if the passage of time was impossible to reconcile, among all else.

It does take her a moment to respond, though; all of that storytelling was... well, wearing. Vulnerable. Whatever she was, indeed.]

... Do you recall... the question I asked of Taako.

[It's incredibly relevant.]

[Lup's brows furrowed. She'd been listening, yeah, even if she hadn't... entirely been all there after a point. The words had sunk in enough to leave an impression though, and coupled with what she's heard now...]

You want to make up with your kid?

... yes.

[The pieces were there, even if she hadn't said much outright. Lup sure picked up on that clue faster than Haggar had, herself, based on the same level of information.

Had to claw into her soul to get that out.]

... I could not even recall that I had a child. But now I... all I can do is remember how much I had wanted to be a mother. And I scarcely even know him, as he is now. Aside from knowing... he would sooner be rid of me, than anything else.

...Is he here?

[She hasn't met everyone in the fleet, and she hasn't really tried, either. She also hadn't stuck around more than a minute or so after the question had been asked, so she has no idea where the conversation went from there. If the Atroma are looking for max drama, though, it does make sense. Much like she and Taako were here to suffer in uncertainty together.]

... He is.

[Because of course he was. Whatever was behind the Atroma and their little games knew what they were about.

How the centuries had left her so ill-equipped for this. No magic tree could help with that wish. Perhaps not anything could.]

...Yikes.

[Lup chucks another stone, this time twisting to skip it once more, and shakes her head.]

Sounds like the elves of the fleet are a hot, hot mess all around. Great to know.

That is... one way to put it.

[Haggar shifts to wrap her arms around her knees, and gives a short, breathless laugh at the irony.

She sobers, just as quickly. She had just... told most of her story to someone she had only just been getting to know. Honesty was one hell of a way to test a bond, but it was actually...

She could tell herself she wouldn't care, if it backfired, but she would. She wouldn't be who she was if she didn't take chances, as much as she felt far more inclined and hesitant or wary about doing so now. Mostly when it came to people.

You're still here, speaking to me, she thinks but does not say, only wondering at what it could mean.]

I sent a message to him, this past month... but he has yet to respond. That is where our tale remains, unless other circumstances present themselves.

Mm... yeah, sorry, I can't really blame him. Sounds like he was left in the most shitty situation out of everyone, and that's not gonna win you any favours.

[It's not the kindest response, but then, Taako isn't here, and sometimes even Lup can't mince words. There's a lot that could be said here, good or otherwise, and this hits a little too close to home for Lup to just accept it baldfaced.

She is still here, and she is still speaking to her, but Haggar might not like what ends up being said.]

I've been ditched by family enough times that if they came to me with an apology, I'd probably spit in their face and ignore it, too. Get used to rejection long enough that even when it doesn't come right away, you assume it's going to happen eventually. You close yourself in to protect yourself. Wait for the other shoe to drop.

[Time after time, it happened. They were passed around for years because no one wanted to commit. Two of them, double the burden. "It's your turn," they heard sometimes, dour and frustrated or just plain tired of it. She knows what it is to feel unwanted, to never have a place to call home because no one was ready to welcome them. She's a better person than she could have been because she had Taako, and Taako... well, part of why he is the way he is now is because he doesn't have that anymore.

She can't imagine going through all of that alone.]

I'll tell you this- brace yourself for rejection. It could happen a hundred times. Two hundred times. He could say awful things to you, or he could say nothing at all. And if he's anything like us, he'll probably try to push you into giving up on trying.

[So she leaves him alone. So she leaves. Because sooner or later they always do.

Her lips purse, and she finally looks over at Haggar again.]

Your job is to defeat those expectations. If you really want to be a mom, that's what you have to do.

[She knows better, not to want or expect any sympathy for herself. That had not been the point. It was Lotor who needed it, for a child born to a mother who couldn't recognize or love anything around her, while his father had all but actively stamped out all traces of her race that he could find...

"Hot mess" was putting it lightly, for what it was. It was undeniably shitty. Her son deserved better. For him to reject or ignore her now after all he had said to her... it was not as if she could force him to accept her now, when he did not have her when he needed her most.

But she had been bracing herself, for whatever Lup would have to eventually say, for bearing her part in listening to all that she had. With even a fraction of what she had gotten from Taako, she knew it would also be harsh. Especially now that the young elf knew far, far more than any other in this moment.

And so Haggar listens, quietly. This was important. It was important... to listen.

Lup was sharing a piece of her own past. The other side of rejection. What Lotor must have felt, time and again, until he had finally given up. Why Witch was what defined her to him in every single way that mattered. Don't talk to him, don't touch him, don't look at him, go away. All of that anger. Rejection, she knew already; this was inevitable, that animosity was what tied them together.

And yet, there was such a difference... hearing it from that perspective, from someone outside of it all and yet now hopelessly entwined. To hear it from a child who had dealt with her own rejection and then to have the only family she could truly call hers having forgotten her while still being so close. Knowing that, too, was important.

There's hardly any time to think more of it, since it's those last words of Lup's that without warning sends an almost violent shiver through her composure, her eyes closing tightly and gasping softly at the sudden burst of emotion, one arm tightening around her knees, the other hand pressing to her brow instinctively.]

So it is...

[Not that giving up was in her nature, stubborn creature she was, but that was only half the battle, to persevere, when her stubbornness had led to their pain in the first place. Maybe she was a step ahead now than where... she might have been, anywhere else, but she still didn't know what she was doing.

Still, even more quietly, she says:]

Thank you, Lup.

[For listening. For staying and even trying to help when she could have easily gone away or given a harsh rejection.]

[A bit of the tension in Lup's posture drains out of her, and after a long moment she nods. They're both here, and alive, which means things can change, even if it takes a long time. That's more than a lot of people get, and that's worth fighting for.]

Yeah, no problem. Maybe if you guys can work things out it'll be proof that, I dunno, we're not all hopeless fuckups. And hey, I like helping. Hey, tree, you hear that? I helped somebody! Is that good enough for you, you cryptic piece of shit?

[She turns to look at it, studying the scenery for any changes, but is met with silence. With a scowl she faces the lake once more and flops backwards in the snowy grass, arms stretched over her head.]

Figured as much... stingy bush.

[There's a soft sigh, followed by a wry sort of laugh. She was not alone on this road and that was such an important distinction, as much as was ahead.]

You have not yet been helped.

[Lup still had her own burdens, even if she had done much just to listen to these.]

Ugh...

[Haggar isn't wrong, Lup just hates to acknowledge it. Yeah, she'd volunteered initially, but admitting to anything is harder to actually do. She's quiet for a long, long moment, just laying there wishing something else would happen.

Nothing does, of course, so… here goes.]

Over a century ago, a light fell from the sky and onto my home planet. We called it the Light of Creation, and it was the most powerful source of magical energy to ever exist. The nerds in charge debated for weeks to figure out what to do with it, but eventually they decided to use it to advance a project they'd been working on, a ship that could travel beyond the barriers of our planer system. By the end of the year, they said, the mission would launch, and seven people would be chosen for it. [Her fingers curl and uncurl in the grass.] We were in school, then- post-grad. They chose us. Me and Taako.

[Funny how success both damned them and saved their asses. Not that Taako remembers this, either.]

A year later, we took off, and it worked the way it was supposed to. But as we were leaving the system we saw what we couldn't see before- another plane, looking like a bucket of tar and hundreds of times bigger, dropping down on ours. Swallowing it up. We tried to warn them, but nothing worked, so we ran away. Flew out of the system to wait it out. When things got quiet, we flew back, but… it wasn't our system anymore. Somehow we ended up somewhere new. We landed, checked the place out. We couldn't find our world anymore.

A few days later, a light fell from the sky.

[She listens.

Talk about something being familiar, with those implications. A different story, a different play, and yet. There it was again: the ironies of other realities and their similarities. Creation and destruction. Dark and light energy. Cycles. Projects. Discoveries that could change their entire understanding of the universe, for those that could live through to see them.

The dangers of the other side. A beginning, with only destruction to follow. A single team set against it all...? All of this too, too familiar, as it warred with that contradiction in her very self because she once could not care. Of course it was difficult for the other to speak, with the weight of that loss.

And then the pause comes, and she speaks softly, once the meaning has sunk in fully.]

You have experienced this ... countless times.

[That source of energy dropped out like candy onto an unexpecting planet, to be marveled at before the darkness chased it. That irony. It twisted inside of her, as that emotion had before.]

[Lup barks out a laugh, brief and sour.]

Oh, we counted. We had a chronicler for our journey. 99 times, it happened. Once a year for that century. Every time the Hunger came, we escaped, and the ship ripped us apart and put us back together in exactly the same state we started out in. No aging, no changing. We couldn't bring anyone with us, and the only way to save the plane we landed in was to find the light before the Hunger came. Didn't happen as much as we'd have liked.

[Sure as hell wasn't for lack of trying. They'd worked so hard, year after year- studying, searching, fighting, training. Sometimes it was enough. Sometimes it was all for nothing.]

At the end of it all we were… we were tired. We were desperate. It was getting stronger, faster, and every time our escape was harder than the last. We needed to make it stop. We needed a plan. Finally we figured it out- if the Hunger can't track the light, it can't follow us. And if it can't follow us, then it can't consume any more planes. We could stop. We could save the universe. It was gonna be hard on the world we finished the journey on, but it had to be better than total destruction, right? After a hundred years, that… that's what we believed. We thought we knew how to do it.

[Sitting up, she holds out a hand, creating the illusion of a ball of light. Slowly that ball is divided into seven parts.]

We created these, using the light- seven relics, one for each of us. Terrible, powerful magic items, that would draw attention and be desired by all who came upon them, but it wouldn't be enough to draw the Hunger in. They had to be wanted, just enough to satisfy the light. Once it was done, we sent them out into the world.

[She spreads her fingers, and the lights split away, and each one becomes its own red ball of destruction, angry and violent. The implication is clear: it didn't go well.]

[99 times. One for each... year. It had been a long time since she had truly felt and understood the passage of a year--roughly the amount of time it took for the war to escalate, and all the changes that came with it. All her time here barely added up to that much, just yet, but it felt long, even if she had experienced many, many years for time to have barely any meaning at all. Perhaps it was about the level of awareness that came from being around others, odd day-to-day experiences which would otherwise blend together.

A year. To learn a new place, to gain all they could, then to watch it disappear, over and over again. How many could endure that and still bear sanity? But there was work to be done for it, work against it, work to understand it. To defeat such a foe, one must become stronger, cleverer, put all they could into gaining more. An approach she understood well.

She watches the display, curious as the explanation continues, but she understands that implication.

She also knew what Lup had said before, about her memory being erased from the minds of others. Another part of the story, but maybe not... here. The villain part, perhaps.]

... a plan to change the rules. Did these relics result... in a different cycle to affect that reality?

[Given the nature of that destruction and that display. There was something to be said for having a unique point of view when it came to this sort of situation. It wasn't as if she wasn't familiar with a powerful entity being split apart and sent away to hide from a greedy, seeking source. But it could not remain hidden forever.]

...Yeah. Instead of one massive destruction at the end of a year, it was many years of constant ruin, spread across the globe- on a smaller scale at first, but they added up the longer it went on.

[The illusion changes, balls of light transforming into objects one by one, each with a story of its own. A long staff of white oak. A smooth polished river stone with no defining features. A ornately decorated silver chalice. A delicate monocle on a silver chain. A long sash woven together with brown reeds. A tiny bell encircled by a diamond pattern. A silver-plated gauntlet.

The illusion of the gauntlet in particular is violent and angry, flames writhing around it, lashing out periodically while the others sit dormant and calm. The spell born of her imagination can't help but betray her bias of which was the most destructive.]

People, whole towns would vanish, trapped behind unbreakable barriers. A child with a sweet tooth unknowingly transformed an entire town into peppermint, people and all. A town was lost in a time loop, reliving the same day over and over for seven years. Monstrous illusions were brought to life and destroyed everything around them. Coastal cities reduced to rubble by tsunamis, castles broken to pieces by tornados, countless storms summoned out of control. Ex- [Her voice falters for a moment, the only stutter in an otherwise deadpan recital of sin.] ...Explosions of fire consume cities, battlefields, whatever they can reach- thousands dead every time, leaving nothing but a circle of black glass scarring the world.

[The illusion of the gauntlet flares again, flames licking at the relics around it, until she clenches her fist and the whole thing vanishes from sight, and she glares at the empty space where they'd floated as if they could feel her ire, her guilt.]

We saved the world by feeding it poison. Super heroic, right?

[Haggar can clearly see that particular attention given to the gauntlet, even as her eyes gaze over the illusions of the damaging relics, their curious designs, the nature of their power.

The amount of destruction on that level to a single world, those results seemed extreme, but it made sense; that was the way of magic. The world itself was destabilized by so much going on in it.]

... You felt as if there was no other choice. When it comes to a desperate time, you do what you feel you must.

[... That's not comforting, but her meaning, she hopes, is more plain: there is no judgement here, for whatever that wrought. Sometimes in order to fix a thing, you broke a few others along the way. Eggs, worlds. It was terrible, but. They were fighting something that seemed unwinnable, and felt that they were losing against time. What more could they hope to do but become stronger, become wiser, gain something from that mess while buying time and feeling the burdens of the loss.]

...But I doubt that you would have left it to that.

[She could not escape that haunting familiarity of it, even with all the differences.]

Edited 2018-12-06 04:18 (UTC)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject