ataraxionlogs | EVENT: MELPOMENE ▒ HOME

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EVENT: MELPOMENE ▒ HOME

CHARACTERS: Ensemble production!
LOCATION: Corridors in the belly of the Tranquility
WARNINGS: Creepiness, disturbing imagery, violence, etc.
SUMMARY: Characters discover slices of sanctuary deep in the maze.
NOTES: Open to all! Covers Stage Four of the plot & Escape.

You've been running and fighting for what feels like weeks now. Exhausted and desperate, you find another door, stumbling through into—

You're home, finally, far away and safe from monsters or spaceships. You're not alone, someone here who's been waiting for you, and they're so happy to see you. Relief overcomes you; you just want to rest, and there's no reason to believe anything here isn't what it seems, is there?

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[ she'd barely made it out of the burning room on arima again — at least this time, for all the trouble she'd run into, morgoth hadn't been there. it had invoked memories of recent trauma, but it hadn't been a complete replay of the worst of it and while she's exhausted, it doesn't quite mirror the exhaustion of the ordeal with morgoth.

her mind is unharmed; there are hallucinations, there is fear, but she is trained to handle fear and peach trees taught her to push through it. it's better than it was. she made it out alive again. it's better.

better doesn't mean good, and when an open door leads to an apartment she knows, the first emotion she feels is relief rather than distrust. her memories of her childhood home are hazy, blurred by time, but the figure of her mother approaching her, arms held out and smiling, looks just like in the picture anderson has of her.

home. it's home, and she hasn't had a real home in so long, she'd been ten when her parents had died and younger still when they'd been placed in medical care, no longer able to look after a child, when she'd been placed in the system. the hall of justice gave her a place to stay and a purpose, but home, that's something else. she hasn't had a home in a long time, and she hasn't been a child in almost as long, but there's some of it written across her features now when she takes a step into the room.

she's painfully young still, it's easy to forget when she carries herself like a soldier. now, not so much. ] Mom?

[ simulations upon simulations. a fascinating collective consciousness affected by personal nightmares. tobias would love to investigate it if he wasn't stuck in the middle of it.

he's worn in a way that goes beyond the merely physical. the unexpected has been greeting at every turn even when he comes to expect it: battlefields of a magnitude he could not imagine, immense forests, wide plains. tobias wipes his palms on his pants and fixes his grip on the gun. the weaponry on the ship is more advanced than any he has known; he spent long hours in gunnery until he could shoot as easily with them.

real or not, he doesn't plan on dying.

he has the rifle to his shoulder when he bursts into the room. a quick look around and there doesn't seem to be any immediate danger. only anderson and another woman, but he knows better than to drop his guard. the gun remains up though not pointed at either woman. ]

Anderson? [ are you okay, check box y/n ]

[ there's someone bursting into the room and under normal circumstances, anderson's training would kick in, she'd already be extending her mutation to figure out what the person's intent is, whether they mean to harm or not — anything to give her an edge over a possible opponent. even the fraction of a second can mean the difference between life and death. she knows the statistics, but more than that, she's experienced them in peach trees.

right now, there's no tension in her shoulders, and it takes her a moment and the mention of her name to drag her eyes away from her mother. her mother!

he has his hands on his gun, doesn't drop it. she'd be proud of him, if this were training, even though she hardly needed to teach him a thing, except perhaps how to handle some of the models of guns they have aboard. ]

It's all right, Four. [ a slight smile. ] It's my mom.

Your mom, [ he repeats. his eyes go from anderson to her mother and back, looking for the similarities that should exist between a parent and a child.

still dangerous, just in a different way.

( there's no feeling of loss in him. only relief that neither of his parents has manifested, and dread that one will. ) ]

Is she a passenger? [ tobias takes care to keep his tone curious rather than cautious. simulations can shift in the blink of a eye, and he doesn't want to risk alienating anderson. ]

[ he is keeping his tone curious on purpose, she can tell as much because the intention is there, but she doesn't mind it. she doesn't feel threatened. her mom is here and she's home and she's been hurt so badly, but it's going to be all right now, isn't it?

it's childish, something she hasn't been allowed to be in over a decade. the world she comes from was never kind, but her mother always was. ]

No. But she's here now.

Okay. [ no argument. no mention of his rising unease. ] Bring her. We have a lot of people to find.

[ a reminder. anderson didn't strike him as the type easily distracted; still doesn't. one's parents, however, can exert a strong influence. his still do.

and there is something else that he can't aptly describe. they've been manipulated from the start, gone through hell — nothing good can lie at the end. it is never so easy. ]

[ he doesn't need to mention his rising unease; she feels it anyway. his reasoning is sound and she hesitates over it for a long moment — only to see something superimposed over his face, distorted.

his thoughts and emotions feel real. so do her mothers.

morgoth made her question truth from lie until she was no longer standing on solid ground, her foundation shaken. she's been regaining it bit by bit, but with the burning house on arima so fresh in her memory, she hesitates now. ]

You go ahead.

[ she doesn't step closer to her mother, who's been watching silently so far. anderson gets a sense of trust from her, and comfort, and the strong desire to keep anderson here and safe, trusting anderson to make the right choices.

the only thing is — her mother is dead.

and still, it's so difficult not to want to have a moment longer, to see her again, to talk to her, especially when she smiles, voice quiet and gentle: ] I've missed you, Cassie.

[ this is cruel. this is — the fears were less terrible than this. tobias presses his lips together, and shifts his weight. ]

We stick together, remember? It's easy to get lost.

Anderson, [ he's pushing now, and he's expecting the worst, ] we have to go.

[ the distortion returns, his face unrecogniseable for a long moment, and both he and her mother feel so real but might not be. her mother is dead, he does not look real for all that he feels it.

quietly, slowly, looking neither at her mother nor at four but meaning both of them: ] I don't think any of this is real.

[ i don't think either one of you is real, is what she means. ]

[ isn't that his fear? that none of this is real? that their escape too was imagined, and tris remains in danger?

as it always does, the thought of her makes his stomach clench. everything else has been so unreal tobias has to believe she's safe — else he'll lose it entirely.

he can't convince anderson of something he's not sure of himself. ]

Neither do I, [ he admits. ]

[ she knows that the ship is real, but she doesn't know anything about this. she must still be on the ship because she left arima behind and this is not mega city one for all that it looks like the apartment she lived in until she was ten, until her parents died.

another illusion, another instance of not being able to trust her own mind. she never use to doubt this much, but morgoth changed things.

it isn't real, and she should leave — doesn't matter whether it's with him or without. he may not be real, either, but at least he's on the ship whereas her mother isn't.

odds are, he is real, but the distortion of his face makes it difficult to believe that. she just wants a moment more with her mother, illusion or no. ]

You go ahead. [ is repeated, head bowed. ]

[Alex has barely made it out of his own simulation, whatever, intact. It's...it had been Haley, and his sister, and everything. It had been so damn hard to leave the comfort of it all, then the horror...but he has people who he cares about, here. They are what drag him out, get him moving.

So when he moves into the next room, he blinks, knowing this...knowing the faces, here.]

Cass...hey, Cass.

[He goes to stand next to the young woman, touching her forearm, gently.]

It's Alex.

[Oh how hard it would be for him to leave this room, given what he knows about Cass and her family.]

[ she knows it's alex. she knows it's alex even before he touches her arm, before she looks back over her shoulder, expression something close to wonder. ]

Yeah.

[ she smiles a little, because — ] This is my mom.

I know.

[He sighs; he knows she would want to stay; it seems even cruel to try and break it.

But it isn't real. and it's dangerous.]

Cass, do you trust me?

[He puts a hand to her cheek, trying to get Cass to look at him, and not at the figure of her mother.]

[ she knows it isn't real. her mother is dead — but there is a divide between knowing it intellectually and gathering up the strength to leave, and anderson has yet to reach the latter point.

she does trust alex; what she doesn't trust, not after arima, is her own perception of reality. not anymore, not really. not with the way morgoth made her question her own memories and sense of self, the foundation she'd build everything on, not when she's been back in the burning house and at a beach in cuba, not when there's so much here that isn't real and looks and feels real. ]

Yes. [ a beat, and she doesn't know how to put that in words. she faces him, but her eyes are far away for a long moment before they focus on his face, searching. ] But I don't know if you're any more real than she is.

[Well, at least Cassandra knows that her mother isn't real. That solves that problem for him, at least. Glancing back at her 'mother', worried that she might do something, Alex gives a little shrug, and a tight smile.]

Yeah, but let's be honest. This is supposed to be some nice warm memory, right? So why would your mind pop me in here?

[ she thinks there's an element of self-deprecating humour in there that she's meant to acknowledge, but instead she tilts her head, one shoulder lifting in a shrug. ]

You're my friend.

[ and what if it isn't supposed to be a pleasant memory? what if this is about leaving what's pleasant behind, what if he's going to destroy something she's lost long ago?

she doesn't think the real alex would, but then she's not convinced he is any more real than her mother. ]

...I am.

But I don't belong here. I don't belong in this place. This is your memory, your safe place.

I've never been to a Megacity.

[He sighs, letting his hands drop from her.]

If you--

--why don't you try and hug her?

[He isn't sure what he can do. He isn't smart, like everyone else, when it comes to this stuff. He's just trying to find ways to break the hold, easily, without hurting her.]

We're still on the ship.

[ it's — an oberservation, something she knew, but it still comes across a little startled, as though she'd temporarily forgotten. of course they're still on the ship, this is an illusion born from memory just like the burning house on arima had been, the second time around.

she wants it to be real; she wants her mother back — and it breaks her heart, but: ] She's dead, Alex.

[ just another illusion. ]

We are.

And I need to get you out of here. Because I don't--

--I don't know what will happen, if we stay.

I know it's hard, Cass. But you have to believe me.

I don't want to go.

[ what if alex is no more real than her mother? what difference does it make whether she leaves now or in ten minutes, an hour, tomorrow, so long as she leaves? ]

Not yet.

...I know you don't. But if you don't leave now, what if you can't leave, ever?

I don't have any idea what the hell is going on. But if they want to keep us here, it isn't good.

[ blinking a little, forcing herself to think it through. she wants, so badly, to have her mother back and her own childhood.

that is not how the world works. that is not ever how the world works, and any miracle that might come about will be solely of her own making.

her mother is dead, as is her father.

so she bows her head and swallows down the desperate need of a small child to be in her mother's arms, to be safe and taken care of, and instead she squares her shoulders. ]

Let's go.

All right.

[Alex frowns, moving to grip at her forearm, if only because he's worried something is going to tug them apart, try and make this worse, harder for them.]

I just--I don't know the way back.

[He starts moving, trying to find the way he came in.]

I don't think there's a way back.

[ there hasn't so far. any door anderson's gone through has disappeared behind here. ]

Only forward.

EVENT: MELPOMENE ▒ HOME

CASSANDRA ANDERSON ( ota. )

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