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| Marigold | VILLA DOLORES REGIONAL HOSPITAL Earth, 21st century, 3.5 miles from southwestern Bern. Several days have passed. After a hundred-plus hours and a few nights of sleep, even the post-apocalypse smooths over into a kind of almost-mundanity. Just as the devastation of Iðunn's battle against the world spilled over through Warpgates, the humanitarian consequences did too. The longer-term wounded from the battle overflow from tents in Bernish fields into Multiversal hospitals, staffed with exhausted local personnel and even-more-exhausted Commonwealth-associated disaster relief both. Red nametags contrast with green IDs on lanyards. If you were especially beaten-up and had nowhere else to go, you might've spent some nights here, but Elites are likely to have more glamorous options for medical care. Maybe Roy does too, but the young man who insists on wearing out his shoes by walking rather than ride a horse is hardly going to accept a fancier facility than the soldiers who fought alongside him. On the sub-urgent third floor, with fluorescent lights and linoleum flooring and pea-green wallpaper and the almost-pleasant smell of powdered latex and disinfectant, there are a dozen rooms along the long hall from the central nurse's station where Etrurian and Bernish fighters are put up. If you glance into their rooms, each of them has been left a small parcel and a bottle of liquor- by Cecilia, maybe? Or at Guinivere's command? Someone's been busy. At the very end of the hall is Roy, freshly-discharged with the collar of his Lycian-blue outfit worn higher than usual; for the first time in a long time, he's not wearing a light breastplate or a sword. His once-severed right arm's still in a cloth sling. He shifts like he's going to wave with it, like always; winces; and then waves with the other. Merlinus, by his shoulder, chortles and steadies him. They're standing by the last room of the hall, with its door open. "Oh! Just in time. They keep trying to kick us out. Something about visitation policy," Merlinus says, while a doctor exits and glares at him in passing. "Well, we- I mean, they were performing a ritual. I'm sure that's a bit in the way." "Exactly! Trying to kick someone out in the middle of a ritual is unconscionable." "I think they don't have those here, Merlinus." "Pffh. What was all that with the scribbling and the tubes for, then?" The whiteboard outside that room says ITHUN DOE. |
| Angela | Love is still healing from the battle with ITHUN DOE but she can largely walk on her own power and can talk without wheezing quite so much, even if she's not feeling especially chatty. Justice is more or less fine since she entered the battle as last minute reinforcements, but she is having another issue. Justice is still a giant and she has bonked her head more than once while trying to duck under several doorframes that are made for people not quite her size while Love, who is like half her size, doesn't seem to be having any issue. Love is carrying an Angelapad in her hands because Angela does, at least, want to meet this person that all her people came back fucked up from trying to help and/or fight. At the very least, Angela is used to what she would call 'meltdowns' and she just can't hold grudges about someone rampaging if it doesn't seem like they're going to do a second rampage. Gosh, Justice and Love have both rampaged themselves many a time and in this Loop once each. She doesn't have much room to complain, really. She'll leave that to the families and friends who actually lost ... family and friends. The elevator doors open up and the bottom half of Justice can be seen before she carefully crouches down like she's trying to limbo through, almost crab walking to get past the low hanging elevator frame, and then straightens back up once she is through. "This hospital is not considerate of the exceptionally tall, it is unjust." Justice complains. "Aww I'm sure they're doing their best, I bet if they met you before, they'd make so many more allowances for you." Twinkling stars follow after Justice's steps as she moves through the hall, glancing from room to room until.... ''Trying to kick someone out in the middle of a ritual is unconscionable.'' "Rooooy!" Love cheers, running over to Roy, clearly intending to leap at him and hug him. "Love he's still healing!" Justice shouts out in a panic. Love sloooows down, visibly skidding across the floor before she raises one hand up and pats Roy on his uninjured shoulder twice. "Roy!" Love beams. Justice turns to face the whiteboard. "I see... You were able to uncover her last name. She is Idunn of the household of Doe. Knowing that she has grasped some remembrance of where she came from is truly a relief." "It's a pretty last name." Love adds. "Is she asleep? Won't she be worried if she's all alone?" |
| Flamel Parsons | Flamel arrives. He... Ah. He is a stone. Rather, he is a brain-sized stone suspended in an extremely dense, close-to-opaque purple soup, contained within a hollow, translucent polymer sphere. The stone looks to be a sort of bismuth-style irridescent thing, angular where the folds of a natural brain ought to be, and mostly deep purple. His sunglasses float in the fluid of the orb, drifting in front of the brain as if they were where the eyes ought to be. Emblazoned on the sphere, in magenta-and-blue Psychonauts colors, is an industrial warning, displaying an eye with a crossed-out pupil: CENSOR WARNING ( Ø ) REFLECTION JAMMED They don't know how right they are. <Roy!> Flamel telepaths up to the guy. <Heck is it ever good to see you. Not that I didn't have faith, but we sure didn't get to have much of a look at each other after all that. I can finally get the old brainstem calmed down about you.> He rolls to a stop near Love and Justice's feet, sunglasses peeking up towards him. <Now, just know I'm not hugging you here partially because you need a lot of healing first, and mostly because I've been charging mine up for Lugh -- but don't let that make you think I'm not really happy to see you.> He swivels in place to Justice. <Oh, this is a Jane Doe situation... Is what I'd normally say, but near the end there, we fought a John, didn't we? I didn't get that scrambled, right?> He swivels back to the door. <Either way, I really want to get a peek at things. Last time I saw it was pretty empty. I think Agent Nein wanted to give her a once-over too, once she's finished with...> With what? Healing? Becoming a person He trails off vaguely... |
| Lilian Rook | The surreality of the situation rests right on the edge of the uncanny valley where it is neither so overwhelming that Lilian can only dazedly stumble through it like it's business as usual nor just understandable enough that she can spend all of her time obsessing over it. When she arrives at the hospital, the idea that all of those calls she'd made, back in her emergency fugue state, corresponded to real locations with real people, renders her awkwardly mute for a while as she processes it. Seeing 'Ithun Doe' on the wall forces her to comprehend the idea of Iðunn existing in a Multiversal context, rather than solely that of her personal devil in Zephiel's orbit, and that makes her stress-laugh for a little while. Seeing Roy in a sling, after the horror of his near-death and the moment that Elibe's well-earned miracle was shattered, is such a mundane outcome that all she can think to do is elbow him and say, "You didn't need to make sure we match, you know." 'Pffh. What was all that with the scribbling and the tubes for, then?' God does Lilian have thoughts about doctors and rituals right now. It's all over her face. Still in her Trídéag uniform from earlier, coat folded over her right arm, Lilian decides on the spot "I'm afraid the Seneschal isn't exactly wrong. But these sorts of things have a well-known habit for attracting nosy parasocial strangers, so there are rites to observe." 'I see... You were able to uncover her last name.' Lilian stares at Justice incredulously, before remembering that she's aiming the incredulosity the wrong way. "No no. That's-- it's customary to use 'Doe' in place of an unknown surname when it's required." '<Roy!>' "I thought you were in a tube!?" Lilian snaps, confused, channeling ten percent of a Mesmer in her tone. "No no no, none of that, don't distract me. Merlinus, how is she doing?" |
| Flamel Parsons | "I thought you were in a tube!?" <In a what?> Flamel "looks" at her, in a way that somehow seems blankly uncomprehending. But he quickly swivels to Merlinus expectantly, eager to know more about the Iðunn situation. |
| Lilian Rook | '<In a what?>' "In a big glass tube! With goo! And a radio! Asleep!" She's kind of annoyed now. "Why are you floating around like that?! That's so creepy!" |
| Flamel Parsons | "Why are you floating around like that?!" <Not sure what you mean!> The glasses cock very slightly sideways in the orb. <I'm still a bit beat up, but my legs still work just fine. See?> He rolls back and forth slightly in place, demonstrating the nature of the censoring currently on his mind. This, it seems, might be the Flamel Parsons equivalent of a cast. |
| Angela | ''Now just know I'm not hugging you here--'' "You also do not have arms right now." Angela says from the pad. "Justice, hold the Flamel ball, he is tracking in dirt." Justice dutifully, if cautiously, crouches down to pick up the Flamel ball and hold it gently. It seems like a gesture of kindness to her that Angela is disguising as disgust because maybe she hasn't learned how to stop being a grump to Justice, so she is trying not to squeeze the ball too hard. Also if the ball popped it'd be yucky. Justice may be a knight, but that doesn't mean she wants this purple goop all over her. ''It's customary to use 'Doe' in place of an unknown surname when it's required.'' "What a strange custom." Justice says. "But I like it. It makes kin of us all with no or unknown surnames. In this we can be sisters and find solidarity." "Yay!" Love adds. ''Last time I saw it was pretty empty.'' "Then I shall be your vessel of conveyance so that your quest may end in victorious understanding and knowledge." Justice vows to Flamel, kneeling to do so, placing the ball on her knee as she looks into the sunglasses while making this most serious vow. She stands up after, though. |
| Lilian Rook | '<Not sure what you mean!>' "Oh god that's what that means?" Lilian says, staring morbidly at the sticker. 'But I like it. It makes kin of us all with no or unknown surnames.' "Well, it also makes paperwork a lot easier." She's thinking about inviting 'Yamada, Sakura' to her wedding now. |
| Marigold | "Rooooy!" Roy and Merlinus both almost panic; the former raising one hand against Love's charge and the latter looking ready to dive in the way. They both breathe a sigh of relief when she slows down. "Whoa, whoa...! Love! See, I told you you'd be alright," he says, with a goofy little smile. He can't hug her front-on, with the injured arm in a sling across his chest, but he turns to side-hug her with his left arm very firmly and gives a small laugh. "Ah, well... I'm not sure where they got 'Doe' from. It doesn't sound very dragon-ish, does it?" "It sounds as dragon-ish as 'Fae', to me." "Hm. And I'm sorry to hear about the ceilings, young lady! My goodness. They do make women larger in the Otherworld, don't they." "Er, I think it's more that people come in all different sizes in the Multiverse, Merlinus. Riku's quite large as well." "Not all the time! Only the women are large all the time. Justice, that Khosa lady, ahh..." Asking about her wakefulness, and whether she's alone, makes Roy's expression drop a little. "No, Sophia and the old man are in there still. She's... sort of awake." "Ah... hello... you can come in... just, be careful with the papers..." Sophia's uncertain voice trickles out. Just about then, Flamel is walking- no, rolling up- followed closely by Lilian. Roy can't help but gape at the orb. He hesitates, then crouches down to the orb's level. "Flamel? Is that you?" "Well. I was considering offering everyone a celebratory drink, but... considering your current, ah, rotundity, that may not be doable!" "Merlinus, where did you get that bottle? Did you buy it from one of the soldiers??" "Don't look at me like that! He was a teetotaler, he begged me to trade it for some pastries." "I... see..." he says, while pat-patting the orb respectfully. He straightens up just in time for Lilian's elbow, and then giggles. "I... ah... I'm sorry, Dame Commander. I know it's a faux pas," Roy says with a chagrined smile. Over his collar, one can see a bit of redness. His throat will probably scar. To answer Lilian's question, Merlinus gestures with his bottle of slightly mysterious liquor. "Well... she's..." |
| Marigold | The room isn't big. There's one very modern hospital bed, the reclining kind with a remote and wheels, and one window with the early-afternoon sun pouring through the slatted blinds. All around the bed is drawn an elaborate ritual circle- or was, before it was halfway swept up by hospital staff; smeared candle-wax and golden dust still in the vague suggestion of magical patterns. Arcadia's old man, the aged dragon who threw away his stone, is sunken into one of the guest seats; he looks very tired, with a bandaged hand, and nods a little sheepishly at those who enter. Sophia turns back and smiles from the bedside. A heart monitor gives a single beep, and then another five seconds later. It shows a steady 12 BPM. Iðunn sits upright in the bed, hands folded in her lap and gaze fixed forward at the wall. It's so odd to see her in a gown instead of her purple robe- the robe is folded on the windowsill, with that evil-looking stone lying on it. Her hair falls straight, its ornaments removed. There are still hundreds of glowing golden scratches on her face, her hands, even little speckled ones on her eyeballs from arrows; the wounds of Divine Weapons, shrunken proportionately into papercuts. They're so thin they seem to glitter, winking in and out, if you tilt your head. Ridiculously, she is handcuffed to the railing on the bed. "She's... restored, or so we think, but... at least, she had some response to the ritual... um, the one that Athos left us..." Sophia says hesitantly. "Hmph. I never thought I'd be looking at the Demon. I'd heard Athos was working on this, but I thought he meant it for Bramimond. Or Nergal, his old friend..." "... Her soul was... severed, from her body... it might take time, to recover. Like Roy's arm... no 'blood flow'..." |
| Flamel Parsons | "I was considering offering everyone a celebratory drink, but..." <I'd *really* love a drink right now, honestly.> Flamel says, seeming to not recognize the fact that he's being picked up. <Go right ahead, I might be busted up but I'm cleared for just about anything.> "You also do not have arms right now." <Yeah, healing these up a bit before I try any grapples is going to be important.> He wobbles side to side a few times, telepathically emitting a few stretching noises. <Soooooore... But, wow is it satisfying. It can only go up from here.> They head inside... ... Flamel perks up. There's a moment where his "breath" catches... <...Wow. Wow, she really is okay now.> He says. <You might not know it looking at her, but-- she is. This really is what 'okay' looks like, right now, for someone like this. I...> He reaches out. Mentally, not physically. He's got expertise, he's got skill and knowledge, he knows how to not disturb anything fragile and healing. But he knows what her un-souled mind looks like. So he reaches out, to see if there's something his telepathy can brush against now. Instead of nothing. soil, upon which one day a tower will be built. --- Deep in the Parsons Institute, a vantablack phone, cracked and baring sickly purple innards, finally has its receiver lifted. The Director holds it to his ear, exhales, and dials. He won't expect anyone on the other line. But if there's ringtone... --- <Thank you.> He does wind up whispering, to the old man and Sophia. <I know what kind of work that takes.> |
| Lilian Rook | 'They do make women larger in the Otherworld, don't they.' Lilian, at a soaring five foot six in height, wonders how to even process that. She gets distracted thinking of Gebura by association, then Hiromi, Sylvi, onwards to why Sarracenia is bafflingly six feet tall, and blurts out "Why is that anyways?" 'Don't look at me like that! He was a teetotaler, he begged me to trade it for some pastries.' Lilian winks at Merlinus the instant Roy turns away. 'I... ah... I'm sorry, Dame Commander. I know it's a faux pas,' "It's alright, I forgive you." Lilian says with a laugh and a wave of her hand that briefly makes her feel as though gravity cut out. "Perhaps right arms are just world-saving wounds? Hm? It's etched intot he wheels of histories. Or perhaps it's just that most of us are right-handed." 'Well... she's...' 'Ah... hello... you can come in...' "Sophia! Oh goodness-- And . . . ?" The surreality finally notches up high enough that Lilian can begin to un-process it, once she sees the hospital room. She wants to think that it's because of the Foundation having begun to normalize this bizarre mashup of mysterious arcanum around which the entire world revolves and budget-conscious public works of the twentieth century, but really it's just that being so close to Iðunn feels a tiny bit like having first sat down and spoken with Ash, in a way that makes her think of when she'd first come back to Sapient Heuristics wearing a dress, but from the other perspective. "Pretty . . . ?" Lilian says, after four seconds of staring, followed by a cough into her fist and "The scars. They're like gold dust. Little inclusions, you know?" Despite Iðunn being so checked out, she still feels warm with embarrassment for saying that right in front of her. 'I'd heard Athos was working on this, but I thought he meant it for Bramimond. Or Nergal, his old friend...' "It'd never have worked on Bramimond anyways." Lilian says, confident for reasons she can't name. "Paying the price for power, using it, then finding a way to un-pay it later; everyone thinks they can and it never works out the way you'd hoped, even when everything goes right. If they'd entertained thoughts of doing that, they'd never have written Apocalypse." She looks over to Sofia. "Response? What kind?" One eye is still on Iðunn. |
| Angela | ''Hm. And I'm sorry to hear about the ceilings, young lady! My goodness. They do make women larger in the Otherworld, don't they.'' ''Why is that anyways?'' "That they do, but even relative to the others of my world, I am atypically tall." Justice says. "I was to evoke a giantess who nevertheless found purpose in the elegance of the blade." "Justice is larger than life!" Love swings her arms from side to side to do a spin, making sure to step back just a bit so she doesn't accidentally bonk Roy or Justice or a wall. It's a sort of situation where it's easy to be joyous and smile big because as awful as everything was, the horizon looks brighter than the clouds behind. "I think Doe works! A doe is a symbol of spring! It fits good!" Love insists. "You're such a sweetheart, Roy! Thank you for giving me courage at the end!" She looks to Merlinus. "You too! Thank you for being by my side, Merlinus-San." ''Just, be careful with the papers...'' Justice takes up a lot of space so she's going to squeeze in after everybody else has found space so she doesn't unintentionally block people with her ginormous constellation-patterned gown, twinkling stars trailing behind her. Love finds a seat and immediately starts wiggling in the chair, kicking her legs back and forth--more antsy than anxious. Justice frowns at the handcuffs but ultimately as a knight will await orders regarding them should they come. Angela's face tilts back a bit so she can see Idunn. She thinks as to what Sophia says about 'no blood flow', but honestly this sort of magic isn't something she's in tune with, The City is governed by technology and until relatively recently, she was all tech. "Hello Idunn. You look well, considering." Angela says. Though this might not mean much if it was that difficult for Flamel to do much of anything that he's now a ball. ''Pretty . . . ?'' "If only all wounds could be so flattering," Angela quips. "I wonder if she's sad..." Love adds. |
| Marigold | Merlinus is distinctly perplexed by the logistics of letting Flamel have a drink. He uncorks the bottle of... wine?... but then hesitantly holds it over the orb in Justice's arms. "What, just like I'm watering a plant, or...?" He still recovers fast enough to wink back at Lilian. What a champ. "Ohohoho, you're very welcome, Love! Er, ah... is 'San' another one of those names like 'Doe'?" "Of course, Love. I'm sorry for... no, what I mean is, thank you for trusting me at the very end, even though I'd already messed up before," Roy adds. He seems to flush and rubs his cheek a little, when Lilian talks about arms being world-saving-wound magnets. "Ah, um, maybe. Haha, I've still never felt... fated to anything." Sophia magnetizes to Lilian's side, in her nervous-sheepish way, while hugging her big sheaf of loose ancient parchments. Lilian wasn't the one she had the most affinity for before. Maybe being taught how to use Apocalypse brought her closer. "Ah, Lilian... she was asleep, until it finished, and then her eyes opened... she still doesn't do much... she'll follow simple orders, but..." "She was more active and talkative before she got her soul back. I suppose that wasn't really her, but... now it's like she's dazed. Is that really what it's supposed to be like?" "I don't know... no-one knows... we haven't done this before, so..." But Sophia glances at Flamel, questioningly. "You're likely right," the old man says, of Lilian's theory on Bramimond. "Not that I'm a sage, but I'd reckon there's a difference between 'severed' and 'gone'." "I... don't know if they'll scar... those cuts, they're still open... but maybe, the gold bits...?" Iðunn doesn't respond, for several seconds, to Angela calling her name. Eventually her dull eyes drift to the left; when her eyes can't turn any further, she seems to remember she has the option of turning her head. Then she stares at the tablet with an unfocused placidity. Sophia wrings her hands, as if someone will think she's a fraud at the soul-healing business. "No, um, that won't work... try it like this... ahem. ... Tell me your name." ". . . Iðunn," says the figure in the bed, in a voice nearly as small and soft as Sophia's. "Now tell me how you're feeling." ". . ." "... I think she doesn't know..." <...Wow. Wow, she really is okay now.> <This really is what 'okay' looks like, right now, for someone like this. <I know what kind of work that takes.> "She is...? You do...??" Sophia says, with careful hope. Maybe she isn't a soul-fraud after all! Flamel reaches out, and finds... A presence, sort of, but an incoherent one. Where there was emptiness before, now there's a shapeless thing, numb with pins and needles. A limb that's fallen asleep. A mind that does not know itself. |
| Flamel Parsons | "What, just like I'm watering a plant, or...?" The orb pops the top open. A telekinetic hand grips the bottle, pours into(???) a cup(???) that is the orb, and then Flamel's mind emits a few gulping 'noises', and everything closes up. <Phew. Don't tell Otto!> ... "She is...? You do...??" <Absolutely. Absolutely. Look-- A mind knows how to heal itself.> Flamel *leans* forward. <This, this is completely different from before. Just... imagine, for a second, I guess, a forest after a wildfire. Her *mental ecosystem* will repopulate. Now that it's not being choked...> He sounds practically thrilled at the idea. <It's the same here too. The hard part is over. Everything's up from here. We're back on-track, we're on the rails, there's sense to things now.> |
| Angela | ''Is 'San' another one of those names like 'Doe'?'' "It is a long story." Justice explains to Merlinus. "I'm reclaiming my magical girl heritage after meeting Kenshiko-Chan!" Love explains. "Or a short one if you are motivated enough. She is indicating that you are a figure to be respected." ''Thank you for trusting me at the very end, even though I'd already messed up before.'' "Aw shyucks..." Love scuffs the floor bashfully with her foot. "Roy, I mess up all the time and I got a bunch of chances! I should be saying, thank you for trying again even though it got messed up the first time! I'm just sorry you got hurt at all." "You may not think you are much, Lord Roy, but as far as we are concerned, you are a friend to think highly of." ''Phew. Don't tell Otto!'' "You best not be violating any oaths you have made, Sir Flamel." Justice says. "But I shall keep your secret in the interest of peace." ''Her *mental ecosystem* will repopulate. Now that it's not being choked...'' Angela looks towards Flamel for a moment. Everything's up from here, hm? She used to think it could be that easy, but the real difficulties came later. But this IS a kinder world, and the rules that govern it seem less constraining. How close is to breaking her own chains? "I see." She says to Sophia and Flamel both before looking to Idunn again. "Idunn. Since we insisted you live, we will do what we can so that it is a life worth living." Angela says, which might still not be the right way to do it, but she isn't really interested in basic call and response. "It is good to see this progress." Angela adds. |
| Lilian Rook | 'Ohohoho, you're very welcome, Love! Er, ah... is 'San' another one of those names like 'Doe'?' "No that's-- oh that's going to be so fiddly and annoying to explain." Lilian sighs. "Just think that she's saying 'sir' now." 'Ah, um, maybe. Haha, I've still never felt... fated to anything.' "If people who were fated felt fated thent hey wouldn't always be seeking out oracles and prophecies now would they?" says Lilian, deflecting way more feelings than she'd like to think about. "When you're certain you're destined for something, with a gut feeling, that's the strongest possible sign that you're making a very big mistake." 'Ah, Lilian... she was asleep, until it finished, and then her eyes opened... she still doesn't do much... she'll follow simple orders, but...' Lilian winces very faintly at the word 'orders'. "Well. I've never known anything a tenth as severe as this to fix itself within the month, much less the day. If 'something' happened and not 'nothing at all', the ritual did what it meant to; there's not much risk of false positives when the magic is this complex." she sighs. 'Is that really what it's supposed to be like?' ". . . The only point of comparison I have is . . . someone who was barely conscious for a year, then couldn't speak for two. I have to assume it is." Lilian takes another point of damage at making the comparison, but it's the onlyapt one. '... I think she doesn't know...' Lilian grimaces. "Also not the first time." she says, curling her fingers loosely against her chest. "We all have to learn at some point." |
| Marigold | Since we insisted you live... The words seem to rattle in Iðunn's mind for several long seconds. Her jaw moves, just slightly, as if she's about to say something. But she doesn't. Sophia had held her breath, hoping she'd say something of her own volition finally; she lets it out in slight disappointment. "Mmm. Since she slept for a thousand years... I'll be sad... if she takes two thousand, to heal..." Sophia says, with an itty-bitty wry smile. "But, thank you, for saying so..." "If it's an ecosystem, then... should we be trying to give her all kinds of different experiences? Or just letting her rest?" Roy asks. "Sir, eh? Ahahaha. Well, I'm no lord, but I'll take 'sir' if you're giving it!" Merlinus chortles, while pouring the wine into Flamel's orb for smuckling. He pat-pats the ball's side, as if to say 'good man', and then looks up at Justice with a twinkle in his eye. "Oh, I'm sure you're not supposed to drink while on the mend. But I'm sure you are supposed to drink to a victory. And if those cancel out, then he can do as he pleases, can't he?" Flawless logic, Merlinus. Roy, still lingering in the doorway, rubs his shoulder gingerly at Lilian's response. "Haha. I guess that must be true. If even fated people doubt themselves..." "You don't quite sound convinced. What's troubling you?" "... I thought at some point I'd feel like I'm done growing up." "You seem very grown-up by now to me, Lord Roy." "Well, that's just it. I don't think I'm ever going to feel confident, or like my responsibilities come naturally. I think I have grown up. It's only that being 'grown up' doesn't feel like anything. I don't know why I thought it would." "... If it does feel like anything, Lord Roy, I think it feels like taking things seriously enough to be a little un-confident about them." "Ah . . ." Roy glances aside at Lilian, a 'you too?' almost on his lips, but he decides narrowly that it might be rude to give it voice. "Why...?" Over a minute later, Iðunn has finally formed a single word. Everyone jumps slightly. Sophia turns around and squeezes her hand urgently. "Why what...?" ". . ." "Iðunn," Roy calls over, "please, tell us what you're trying to say." The order is almost too complicated. Her eyes have unfocused again, glazing over all of you. But her jaw works oddly, and several seconds later, words drift up like from a half-remembered dream. ". . . Why not kill me?" |
| Angela | ''When you're certain you're destined for something, with a gut feeling...'' Angela thinks of Ayin for a moment. But then sets the thought aside. "Indeed, it would be too long," Angela agrees with Sophia. "But Flamel is nothing if not an expert in drastic 'software' updates. If he sees it as a good sign, I think we can presume the healing is proceeding as it is meant to." We all have to learn at some point, she thinks. ''...All kinds of different experiences? Or just letting her rest?'' That's a very good question. Certainly, overzealous attempts to save an ecosystem can do more harm to it than the 'fire' itself, to borrow Flamel's metaphor. And since it is Flamel's metaphor, she really ought to leave it to him, but she thinks about it anyway. ''Well, I'm no lord, but I'll take 'sir' if you're giving it!'' "You should be, you should have a nice castle and pretty unicorns and a big open area so all the people you love have plenty of space to run around in." Love is probably very very grateful at all his reassurances when she was worried she'd lose HER identity. ''And if those cancel out, then he can do as he pleases, can't he?'' Justice frowns skeptically at the logic but ultimately looking after a badly wounded Love earns many favors with her so ultimately she dips her head and says, "It is as you say. But please be responsible." ''If it does feel like anything, Lord Roy, I think it feels like taking things seriously enough to be a little un-confident about them.'' "But there is no harm in projecting confidence all the same." Justice says, perhaps also thinking of Lilian. "If nothing else, as Sir Merlinus said, it is a victory. Please enjoy it." It is ever in the Magical Girls' natures to try and advise the youth, but perhaps the time for Roy to be advised is coming to an end. ''. . . Why not kill me?'' In a way, it feels like a response to her question, but the sad truth is that Angela can't answer it. She gave no order to not kill Idunn, even if she had time to be properly informed of her status before the final battles, it's not like she would expect her people to throw themselves into dragon fire to save someone like that. Generally speaking, the Lobotomy Corp response to Idunn would be to accept she was a monster and kill her so she wouldn't harm others. Angela has seen people 'lose their souls' before and have them be overtaken by another's. They didn't use that sort of terminology, but it's close enough to the same. So she's empathetic to the question, and she could give her own answer--but it wouldn't be appropriate. She looks towards Love who seems to be waiting for Angela to say something. "Eh?" She points a finger to herself, confused. "You carried him there, twice." Angela says. "You have more of an answer than I." Love twiddles her fingers against one another. "Well, you're supposed to reach out to the dark magical--" "A real reason, Love." Angela chastizes. |
| Lilian Rook | 'Mmm. Since she slept for a thousand years... I'll be sad... if she takes two thousand, to heal...' "On average, it'll take a bit less than a hundred." Lilian says, in some spasm of grim humour that seems very obvious to her but which only comes off as cryptic reassurance otherwise. "Even that would be worth something, I think." 'If it's an ecosystem, then... should we be trying to give her all kinds of different experiences? Or just letting her rest?' "Mhh. That's a good question." Lilian says, and crosses her arms. "One that I'm not entirely certain I'm qualified to answer. But my intuition is very strongly the former. Contemplations on stillness and emptiness aren't . . ." She runs out of words she wants to say. 'But I'm sure you are supposed to drink to a victory.' "Then where's mine? Hm?" Reach. Grippy-grab. '... I thought at some point I'd feel like I'm done growing up.' 'It's only that being 'grown up' doesn't feel like anything. I don't know why I thought it would.' "You notice four years after the fact." Lilian sighs, commiserating predominant, something harder to place in her sub-tone. "That's sort of why. People seem mature when they've fully come to terms with something, and they act like it; so you think that they've learned a sort of skill or gained some capacity that allows them to act like that all the time, and you admire it or envy it; but the absence of instability isn't a feeling. 'Growing up' is just the process of feeling stupid and childish less and less often." 'Why...?' Anything else she could say is gone. Lilian is fortunate she isn't about to choke on her drink. Her stare doubles in in wide-eyed intensity. Her weight lurches to the balls of her feet. Her spine straightens by an extra half-inch, and the fine hairs rise on the back of her neck. Something sounds like metallic sand shifting. '. . . Why not kill me?' Lilian thought her breath was stuck in her throat, the words unbidden surprise her. "I didn't want to kill anyone." |
| Angela | Love looks back to Idunn, and she realizes there is a real reason. She scootches forward towards the one once known as the Demon and crouches down by her, on her knees. Slowly, thoughts coalesce into an answer that she can provide, for herself at least. "I used to be nothing but a story," Love says. "But thanks to a bunch of people, I gradually became more than just ... a story to teach a lesson. Eventually I became a person! I'm still working on it because I'm not very smart, eheheh, but a lot of people help me too and now I can get sad, and lonely, and mad--and it's me being those things, all on my own! And so when I'm happy, and excited, and antsy--that's me too. The feelings exist yesterday, today, and tomorrow and they continue to grow and get bigger, and I feel... fuller, less hollow, less like I'm just a lesson to the world." She beams. "And I guess, I wanted to see if I could make a miracle like that happen too, instead of just being one who gets to benefit from it." She must be remembering Lilian's words during the recent discussion at the Libary. "I wanted Roy to be right, too. He's been so nice to me even though I'm a bit of a goofy silly pink magical girl." She takes her sleeve and rubs at her eyes with it for a bit. "I didn't want Petra and Lilian to feel like it was all for nothing. I want them to know that when they choose to help people, like they helped me, that it means something and not just for me." She reaches out and holds Idunn's hand for a moment. "And I know Flamel is sad sometimes because he had to take my memory away once to save the version of me that is here now, but he always seemed so sad talking to me and I think maybe he thought he killed that previous version of me instead. I guess I wanted him to know he isn't such a bad guy and he can help make a happy ending happen if he tries his hardest and believes in something more than the best he could manage." "And... my friend Fae, she said she wanted a world that could be nicer. I wanted to make it true for her too. I'm sorry that's a lot, but ... well, I guess we were all figuring stuff out for a long time, so I had a lot of built up thoughts in my noggin!" She thonks herself on her head with her free hand and sticks her tongue out a little bit. It's a very silly face. |
| Flamel Parsons | "You best not be violating any oaths you have made, Sir Flamel." <Not at all!> Flamel says brightly. <Not like I busted up any of the alcohol-handling organs.> He has none of them. "On average, it'll take a bit less than a hundred." <If we get it right, we might see faster rehabilitation. The dark magic was so effective because there was so much to pull from... You never know, that might mean there's so much ability to heal! Keep hopes high! Just not expectations.> ... ". . . Why not kill me?" The brain swivels in the orb, in Justice's hands. The sunglasses rest on Iðunn, and the brain thrums with answers to those questions. <There's hundreds of answers to that. Thousands. Millions, maybe! And you have to be the one to find them. Hartmut built a world of millions of answers to that, and all of them are like tiny grains of soil.> The orb hops out of Justice's hands, and rests on the rim of the bed, balancing precariously. <And it's my job to do what all of that soil wants! So, that's what I did. But I can't tell you one answer why. I can only say that Hartmut spared you, and then he and his friends all built a world with millions of reasons instead of one, and now, I do what that says.> "I didn't want to kill anyone." He swivels to look to Lilian, then back to Iðunn. <*One of those reasons* was that, though. Every grain gets to count. I use psychonautry to heal. It's what I'm built to do, my directive -- after stopping the launch.> |
| Marigold | Iðunn's mismatched eyes focus in and out, dimly. If hesitating to strike down Roy was her first act of will in fifteen hundred years, speaking that one syllable unprompted was her second. Now having just barely roused from her waking sleep, she hangs on the edge of falling back into it. One moment the slight parting of her lips looks anticipating. In the next, it looks slack. Can she really even understand your answers? Her gaze vaguely follows whoever's speaking, but maybe that's a simple response to noise. But if she doesn't understand you now, she will when she finds herself again, in a month or in a century. Somehow you can feel sure that your words won't be forgotten. "... Because I wanted Hartmut to be right, and I couldn't wish for a future with even one more person dead," Roy feels compelled to say. "Because... it wouldn't feel right... to make the peace you wished for... over your body," Sophia slowly adds. "Mnn..." With all the reasons spoken, Iðunn's head lowers just slightly. Her eyes unfocus fully, and the diminutive exertion passes. The heart-rate monitor slips from 13 BPM back down to 12. Lilian is, maybe, the only person who'd have noticed the difference in the beeps. With that, the atmosphere returns to the room. Roy lays his good hand gently on Love's shoulder for a minute, and then silently motions for the bottle of wine, once Lilian's had her share. "... Roy. I'd like to take her to Arcadia." "I'd thought of that, but aren't you worried Fae will be scared of her?" "Maybe... but... they'll have a long time to get used to each other... and... I think it'll be good for her. I think it's the kind of peace she wanted..." "Probably. ... I wish I had four more years to think about it." |