EVENT #7: THE SIGHT

[abraxasmods]

Event #7 - The Sight

go to the OOC event info and plotting post

---

The night before APRIL 18, your dreams are disrupted by a vivid image of the same eclipse that occurred last month. The black sun seems to be an endless void in the sky, growing ever darker - until it suddenly opens into an eye that stares straight at you.

When you wake up, much of your night seems a blur except for the vivid dream of that eye. Whether you find it unsettling or try to ignore it, the image is something you cannot get out of your mind. If you ask, you will discover that none of the locals of your faction saw another eclipse. Speak with your fellow Summoned, however, and you may learn that while there was no eclipse that formed over the world, you were not the only one who had this dream.

Of course, dreams don't need to mean anything. You can't feel or see any immediate effects, and nearly everyone around you is going about their day as usual. Maybe you should do the same.

The Awakening

It might happen that very morning or a day or two later. You could be discussing the dream with a fellow Summoned or perhaps you simply brush shoulders with them as you walk by. Whatever it is, as soon as you make brief physical contact, one of you is struck with a sharp pain in your temple that grows into a terrible headache. It's disorienting and painful as the world around you shifts to someplace you may or may not recognize. Like an old film reel, you watch the events of the past play out before you: the past of the other Summmoned. It might be something they would rather hide, a moment of failure or despair, or something they are immensely proud of and brings them great joy - or even a jumble of several images over the course of a person's life. But you see it as if it were real and right in front of you all the same. When you come to, you'll likely find yourself on the ground or bent over, possibly with one or more people around you to see if you're okay. It'll take you a bit to gather your bearings, and the subsequent pounding in your head could last from minutes to hours.

Or, maybe you aren't the one who receives the vision. Instead, as you watch, another Summoned might grasp their head and crumble in front of you. They may go silent or groan in pain. They'll be impossible to shake out of their stupor until it's over. If you ask what happened, they may be inclined to tell you the truth - that you, you were what happened to them.

Or, if your Arcana signs happen to line up in a specific way, you'll see each other in the shared memory itself. You may also find that for certain Summoned, you can help soothe the effects, calm their emotions, or help draw them out of the memory before it consumes them for too long. It's not entirely clear what determines which effect, but one thing is for certain - within each memory, every Summoned as they appear in the past seems to wear the mark of their Arcana somewhere on their person.

For some, they might experience this only once. For others, they might experience it multiple times: with the same person, with several other Summoned, or with a different memory each time. Over the next 7 days, you'll find the Summoned around you are all receiving a glimpse into each other's past, as if the Singularity has awoken an eye within each of you.

Flee for the safety of the Horizon if you want, but you'll find that in there, it's much the same. In fact, inside the Horizon, the other Summoned don't even need to be anywhere near you - just existing in the Horizon space itself together will be enough to possibly set off a headache-inducing vision.

The Factions

What has occurred between the Summoned will not go unnoticed within the factions. While it's difficult to say how faction officials have picked up what's happening, it'll be obvious they do know.

In THORNE, characters will be asked to remain in the castle walls until further notice. Characters will not be allowed to leave the castle grounds, not even to go into the surrounding city, and anyone who is already outside will be requested to not leave again as soon as they return. If asked, they will be told it's for their own safety, given the Singularity is behaving unpredictably and the Summoned have a unique connection to it. Soothing potions and healers are on hand to offer assistance, if anyone is particularly suffering from ill effects.

In the FREE CITIES, characters will find the army by the outposts show more activity than usual. A higher number of guards will patrol the streets throughout the event, particularly in areas frequented by the Summoned. Anyone who publicly and visibly experiences the effects of the memory share (pain, doubling over, etc.) will be offered assistance by the guards. They are generally there to help, but they are also there to maintain order and ensure anyone behaving erratically due to this incident is properly contained. This might include confinement for a day or two if anyone is especially posing a risk, but no one will be punished except in the most extreme cases, as the locals are aware this is not within the control of the Summoned.

In SOLVUNN, the locals will be watching what's happening with a mixture of trepidation and curiosity. Host families and neighbors will be on hand to help with charms meant to offer protection, as well as general care and assistance (soup, blankets, and so on) if your character seems to be especially under the weather or afflicted by the event. Towards the end of the event, more elders and mages will be out and about to check up on the Summoned to make sure they're doing okay. If asked, the mages will say they aren't sure what's going on, but that they are currently divining with the gods and hope to have a definitive answer soon in the upcoming days.

None of the factions appear to be doing much more than keep a watchful eye on the situation - but as the week comes to a close, officials will start making a decision as to what they want to do and how to handle the Summoned who have demonstrated this unforeseen connection to the Singularity.

Comments

[standvastig]

The morning itself is fine.

[He thinks. That dream is probably what is just leaving him uneasy. It isn't terribly often that he dreams, especially in such an abstract way. He busies himself with filling a glass of water, looking at his own meal -- much more meat-oriented, with some kind of sausage, eggs, and tomatoes. No mushrooms today.]

Did you...

[He trails off for a moment. What exactly did he want to say? Maybe he shouldn't even present it as a question.]

I had a strange dream last night.

[cryptsleeper]

I've reached much the same conclusion.

[There's a debate that plays out in Alucard's head - domain or graveyard? Either is a risk. If Viktor sees more, then...then he might witness the worst of it. But does Viktor really need to know that the dhampir enjoys living in a hollowed out cactus in a graveyard?

Possibly not. There has been enough flak for it from people. So for now, the ball is in his court.]

If you prefer. Mind the weather.

Nadine | Free Cities | The World

[nadine_he_loves]

Living in Cadens, between the plethora of Summoned in the building Nadine and Julie live and simply on the streets of the city, it's inevitable Nadine will run into others. And with friends in other factions, she's no stranger to popping into the Horizon to check on those she cares about.

Either way, she's bound to come in contact with her fellow Summoned...


Memory 1

A room with wooden floorboards and multiple bunk beds against the concrete walls. A handful of girls, somewhere in the age range of eleven to thirteen, sit in a circle on the floor. A talking board sits between them. They're cajoling another girl, alone on a bed, her long blond hair pulled back into a tail and her knees drawn up under her old fashioned white nightgown.

They're goading her to join them, identifying her only as 'New Girl'.


Memory 2

Here is a clearing in the forest. The sun is going down and a campfire is roaring cheerily. A few stars have come out in the sky above. There's a tent, and between the tent and the fire two figures sit. Nadine, her hair blond and grown out, unstyled. She's wearing a sweatshirt and jacket and jeans with hiking boots. Right next to her, partially leaning against her, a dark haired young boy of ten or eleven.

A book is open on her lap.


Memory 3

A series of quick flashes without context, featuring a tall young man of nineteen or so. Nadine sitting on a couch in a sheer white blouse and short black skirt, crimson lipstick standing out starkly. She looks up as the teenager comes into the room. The same young man, Nadine in a shapeless turtleneck and ankle length brown skirt, glaring at him as he snarls something at her. The two of them on the road, each astride a motorcycle on a mountain road...


Memory 4

[If there is any other memory from Nadine's list on her plotting comment, just indicate which one you want and I can toss you a memory!]

Himeka's domain » making friends;

[shadowthief]

In hopes that the Horizon will somehow be safer than the rest of the world with the strange trips into people's memories that seem to be running rampant in Cadens, Inej flees there. And in her wandering, she comes across Himeka's traveling domain.

She brightens at the familiarity of a friend and enters, cautious and polite and calls out to her friend, "Himeka? Are you here?" She thinks she must be, or it wouldn't be stationed in just this place, but Inej still thinks it best to make her presence known.

[hextechhead]

[ It does actually work, the nausea and dizziness seeming to pull away from him, and he's surprised. Jayce has a weak stomach so this is likely to keep happening to him every time he accidentally ends up in this situation. He listens to her explain the reasons they did it. She reminds him, suddenly, of the woman Vi, Caitlyn's friend. They had a pretty bad falling out before he let her leave with his gauntlets, but she told him he had no choice, that he did what he had to. It's something she's clearly had to tell herself, like Wanda. ]

You were young, they were aware of what they were doing. They took advantage of you both.

[ It's not saying that Pietro and Wanda didn't choose or volunteer, or know they were signing up for something questionable. It's that as a scientist, Jayce knows what goes into the study of science, what conversations are had, what plans have to be put in place after long discussions and testing. The scientist is always more aware of an experiment than anyone else, test subjects or not, and he would have some strongly worded things to say to those men. ]

It makes more sense you had them before though, because that was you, wasn't it? Who you saw in the yellow?

[It looked like her to him. A woman, with hair like hers, with power. It might be a leap but it makes the most sense.

Jayce glances over when she creates Pietro and he too looks so young. Superspeed. So they both had powers. Exceptional. It doesn't take a genius to know what it means when someone speaks of a loved one in the past tense. He looks back at her, reaching out to take her curled hand gently into his. ]

I'm sorry. I can't even imagine a loss like that. He looks like he was someone with a lot of heart.

[leitstern]

[The admission has him frowning over his breakfast. Unease grips the tip of his tongue, his pride forcing him to swallow his words. His gaze is intense as he swallows his breakfast instead; coping with nightmares by consuming sugar. He leans uncomfortably back in his chair, his love for dessert colliding with a poor appetite.]

That seems to be par for the course. People have been muttering about it all morning.

[Not that he spoke to them, just listened.]

[shadowthief]

At this point, Inej is a common face at Mag's. Nothing like on the level of Sam, but who is, honestly? Still, if Geralt frequents the Inn at all, he's probably at least seen her in passing once or twice.

Tonight, she's helping at the bar, serving drinks and food to customers as they trawl in and out of the place. It's when she makes the move to whisk a few dishes from the bartop that it happens. The briefest, barest brush of a touch but it seems that's all that's needed to trigger a trip into a memory that is not her own.

It happens in a rapid succession of flashes– children, all boys, though it's impossible to keep up with how many are in the group. It's cold. Frigid. And the door, it's locked. She can hear it click as the pin engages, over and over again. How many times did it sound? How many of the boys disappeared? What happened to them, where did they go? Why were they locked away in this place?

She should not have wondered the answer to it, because it's a gruesome scene and she wishes she could unknow it. Experiments on children. There's blood on the sheets, their wrists and ankles are strapped keeping them in place, strange things injected and forced to be swallowed. Her heart aches at the sight.

It's over almost as quickly as it started, fading at the edges back into the bar and the very sturdy man with stark features that don't match any of the children she witnessed. The Suli do not say I'm sorry, so there are no platitudes of apology to leave her mouth. "Malenchki," she mutters softly, though the logical part of her knows he won't know the word.

[gynvael]

[ After another second, he finally comes in and shuts the door. He does not yet realize that touching is a part of it; his contact with other two were so brief, the visions so sudden, that the only thing he's managed to piece together is a certain proximity. Maybe not even that. If they're all interlinked through the Singularity, should it even matter how near they are to each other? If the effect grows in strength over time, would it simply spread right across the continent itself?

Fuck. He hasn't had time to think about any of this. His gaze lingers on her. She does look fine. That's good, at least. ]

You had the dream, too. The eclipse. [ It's not a question. ] This morning, I had a vision. Not of my future, but of another's past. They saw mine in turn. [ His brows draw together further in thought. He shakes his head at the offered wine. ] I shouldn't stay. But you need to be careful leaving. Tell Nadine the same.

[ He straightens, starts to pull back from the counter. It feels like he's leaving her with more questions than answers, but he truthfully hasn't got more than this to tell her. ]

[techmaturgy]

Noted.

[It's a good indication of where he needs to go, at least--just follows the bad weather. In the real world, this would, of course, be less than ideal, but here Viktor is able to literally will the water and wind away from him. Still, it takes some active concentration, especially in the face of what is clearly Alucard's turmoil. Viktor can't blame him, though he does wish he could focus a little less on trying to stay dry.

When Viktor finally makes it to Alucard's space, it's clear he's not making the effort to appear as he usually does in the Horizon--maybe it's not worth it, depending on what others may or may not be seeing of him, through all this. He doesn't snoop, knowing that Alucard likely already knows he's here. No reason to breach his privacy even further, at this juncture.]

Alucard?

[cryptsleeper]

[Sorry Viktor. Tepes Man Drama is an inherited trait and he is just sort of in the thick of it now. At least there aren't any heads made of smoke threatening genocide?

The path doesn't try to turn Viktor away though, which is the best that can possibly be said. Most would struggle to get through it, probably stuck in the mud until they realized this was a space they were not welcome in.

There's no art to Alucard's depression hut, no warm glow of windows this time around. The door to the hut opens with Viktor's arrival, and the only light inside is in the kitchen.]

In here.

[It is the voice of someone who is definitely not happy.]

the end » cadens

[shadowthief]

[This strange event taking hold of the Summoned has made it so easy to unwittingly slip into the memory of another, and each one brings that same sharp pain in her head every time. The barest brush of shoulders is all it seems to take to make it happen.

She doesn't know what she's looking at, at first, but quickly enough, it becomes very, very obvious: The decimation of war plagues this place. Battle has broken out across the land, fire burns in every direction, guns shooting off everywhere.

But it's a man in metal– she can only think of khergud, the metallic winged Grisha soldiers– and the woman she met at the museum, Diana, that are the central focus of the moment. She doesn't understand what brought them to this point, but she sees a few things in this moment about Diana:

She is powerful, but knows when to curb that power.
She has suffered the pain of a loss so true, her heart aches for it.
She is flawed, as everyone is flawed, she has sinned and committed acts she regrets.
She is good, despite her extraordinariness and what she could do.

She faltered in her anger and her grief, men were killed at her hand that needn't lost their lives that day. But at the end, she chose humanity, and that choice makes her as good as a Saint in Inej's eyes.

She blinks out of the moment, a soft, nearly reverent whisper on her lips as she makes a sign across herself.]

Sankta Diana the righteous.

[techmaturgy]

[Viktor doesn't even need to hear Alucard to know he's walking into an extremely fraught situation, but he takes the fact that there's a rather straightforward path made for him to be a positive sign.

He reminds himself that even though he considers Alucard a friend, there's still a lot they don't know about each other. Viktor isn't afraid, per se, but he also isn't sure how Alucard might act, when under duress. Best to approach this as gently as possible, with as much empathy as he can muster.

Which, incidentally, is kind of a lot. He approaches the hut with some amount of caution, even as the door opens for him and he makes his way inside.]

Are you all right?

[He imagines the answer is no, but there's no real good way to start this conversation.]

closed to sephiroth; free cities; tw: war mentions and imagery

[monomachy]

[No matter how hard she tries, Diana cannot shake the memories of the War. They trail after her, lurking behind innocuous thoughts and mundane moments in her life here in the Free Cities. These constant headaches and invasive memories certainly don't help. She tries to keep herself busy, but the only thing that truly allows her to keep her mind clear is, ironically, picking up a weapon and training. Whatever free time she allows herself is spent in the training fields near the barracks, and only there is she able to find a calm that lets her focus on the present and her own mind.

It is on one of these trips that she sees the tall man with silver hair heading in the opposite direction. She's seen him many times over the past weeks, knows he's in the field sparring just as much as she is. Diana has, by now, learned that physical touch can sometimes trigger the accidental sharing of memories, and has done her utmost to avoid touching anyone, not only other Summoned. But the Moirai care not for anyone's plans; only they know the course of anyone's fate. And only fate could lead to the circumstances that lead to her bumping into him, the slightest brush of their arms: someone dropping an armful of quivers as they pass by, their arms overburdened and strength giving out; Diana lunging on instinct to help, trying to catch them before they scatter arrows all over the earth; and a slightly uneven stone in the walkway that makes her stumble just enough for the contact to happen.

The trenches are muddy, desolate. They've been walking through them for what feels like weeks, though in truth it's only been a few days. Injured men cradle their limbs close, fighting for warmth and life; men whose bodies are whole look at the dirt walls with sightless eyes, only the white puffs of their breath letting her know they still live. She tilts her head back towards the sky, praying for a glimpse of the moon, but there is only gray smoke, obscuring the heavens and its stars. She has never felt so far from her beloved island, not even when in the hideous city of London.

The earth quakes as another bomb goes of--less than a quarter mile from where she is. The man she follows through the muck shouts that they still have two more days of this before there's safe crossing into Belgium, and she doesn't know if her heart can take it. They've already passed half a dozen burned and shattered towns, their skeletal remains reaching towards the shrouded sky. Diana prays to her gods, seeking any sign that she truly is on the right path.

The heavens are silent for a few precious moments, until the lull is broken by a scattering of gunfire closer than the bomb. The man leading their group spins around and throws himself over her, pushing her head down and away from the lip of the trench.

Days later, she runs into enemy territory, with little backup and a single goal in mind. All that matters is saving the people of this city, freeing them from their captors, and she doesn't stop fighting until it's over.]

[cryptsleeper]

[The hut is all of three rooms, in the end. A small bedroom and bathroom, and the kitchen. As the focal point of the place, it has everything Alucard grew up with at home - a good cast iron stove, work benches with counter tops, copper pots hanging from a rack near the oven, and carefully labeled containers set on several of the counters. It is organized, but not used at the moment.

Alucard himself is seated at the kitchen table, nothing placed upon it save his own hands. His expression is dark and that doesn't change when he meets Viktor's eyes.]

We both know the answer to that question.

[His voice is calm, but there's effort put into it. A lot.]

[techmaturgy]

[Seeing it himself, it's easier to understand why Jayce is so distraught about it. He understands, objectively, why the conversation might be upsetting, but being able to see it play out is another thing entirely. He watches his future self more-or-less beg Jayce to let him die. That's not something he can easily swallow, especially when he has very little idea of what may or may not have happened to bring him to that point.

With Jayce just as clueless, it's not a surprise that he's prying Viktor for answers--something he may not have said.

It's hard not to feel a pang of guilt. Viktor had lied, and continues to lie about both the help he received in the Undercity and what he intended to do with the Hexcore. There's still a part of him that wants to lie, thinking back to their argument on the bridge. Their argument about weapons, especially when he can see the apparent result of that argument, leaned up against the wall of the overlook, even as Jayce puts a hand on the shoulder of his future self.]

I--

[Viktor parts his lips, like he's going to continue, then he pulls them tight as if he's re-thinking saying any of this at all. It does, however, betray the fact that there is something he needs to share. He tries to remind himself that, when presented with the vial of Shimmer and warned about legacy, his first thought was that Jayce would understand. He'd doubted that. Maybe he still does. He won't know for sure unless he finally, finally forces himself to be honest.

Perhaps, after all this time in a strange world, he owes Jayce that much.]

Yes. After you left the lab, I had...a breakthrough. With the Hexcore.

for ciri 🦌

[solmate]

[ Alina's knuckles are practically white around the spray of flowers clutched in her hand. She had walked half the distance to the market and back again twice over before she managed to pull together the courage to make it the rest of the way. She had (not-so) subtly probed Sam when he had mentioned seeing Ciri at the market at about the same times each week. And so here she is with a small bouquet of wildflowers. ]

Ciri! [ Oh no. Too eager? ] Ciri. I, uhm, I...

[ Alina's steps falter, stumbling forward as pain strikes her temple like lightening, her grip loosens on the flowers and they fall to the ground.

Alina shouts, hoarse nonsense, her palm burning as she attempts again to wrench back the rifle's jammed bolt action. The gun punches into her shoulder when she squeezes the trigger, watching Mal land with a thud, lifeless on the deck of the skiff.

A piece of smoldering wood, broken off from the skiff that's in flames around them burns her palm as she scrambles over, but she doesn't notice. It is only Mal, unmoving and unbreathing Mal that occupies her mind. It's like her skin has gone numb and her ears deaf, the screech of monsters and screams of soldiers alike lost to her.

And then Mal takes a shuddering breath, and he has the audacity to try and smile at her, clutching his hand to her chest because at least they found their way back to each other one last time. She holds this moment until she feels claws pierce her back. It's so sharp and painful that she can't even scream. Terror, as deep as unending as the darkness that surrounds them seeps into every inch of her. She cannot run. Trapped, she can only fight exploding into something painfully bright and brutal, singing the darkness that has the misfortune of being in her path. ]

[earthborn]

The prothean cipher had been less gentle, but it really is like a fever dream, every time. This one is weirder than any of the rest, not because it's so different from what she knows, but because it's so similar. She should have known better than to the Horizon for relief. This is where it gets you, violently yanked sideways into a bizarre version of familiar events where you're...

"Who the hell is this?" Shepard says. In other instances, she'd been able to speak to the person in question. Is it— No, no recognition from either of the man's companions. He's tall, and firm-jawed, moving with conviction and—

Let's cut to the chase. I need you for a mission.

"Hey, that's my line," Seriously, who was this guy? "Thane?"

Has to be Thane, then. There's nobody else it could be; at the very least, she knows he's somewhere here, on the planet.

"Thane! Snap out of it!"

for inej ☀

[solmate]

[ Alina's horizon, has changed a little, but not much. She's taken to hiding there, not wanting to face the unease and awkwardness of the things she's broken, cracks in relationships she doesn't know how to fix. It's hardly a sanctuary like some, a point that's always sort of annoyed Alina, but her odd crystal palace has its charms. Sometimes she can get lost finding patterns, watching light reflect over sand, and in those moments her collar feels a little looser around her neck.

She's tracing idle patterns, watching the flow of the shadow of her hand move through the light, and the colored prisms fill the space back behind as she moves out of the way lulled back into the memory of light and shadows together.

He looks young, Alina can't help but remark. A grin, half coy but almost boyish in its coquettish tint as he slips around the war table. Alina, for once, blooms under the attention, her back arching as she bites her lips. Flirtatious words are exchanged, but they hardly matter to Alina. Accolades for the night that she doesn't need, a summery of her demonstration for the king and the nations. It is important, of course, to have solidified herself in her black and gold kefta as Ravka's saint, but she isn't really paying attention to the specifics as the General closes the gap to capture her lips.

No one has ever looked at her like this before, no one has ever held her this close. In this moment, suspended in time, Alina feels like she is watching as Baghra must have. A stupid girl, unaware of the plan being written for her. No, Alina does not know these things. All she knows is the feeling of being high and giddy on power, attention, and affection. The warmth of a kiss, open-mouthed and wet. The dizzying, wonderful enchantment of not just no longer being invisible, but the intoxicating and addictive sense of being desired.

Idiot, she thrashes in her dream-state, furious with herself. She wants to yell at herself to stop, to rip the black kefta off her shoulders. And still she wants it, wants to be wanted, knows exactly why she had kissed him and cannot say that she wouldn't succumb to such temptation again and again. ]

[earthborn]

Her head hasn't stopped aching all week. It started off one at a time, and then rapidly progressed until it was impossible to go anywhere without being assaulted. Shepard thinks about getting out of town, but the idea of shoving through the masses seems impossible. At least Garrus ought to be safe; she knows his secrets, and he knows most of hers. They'd been together through the worst of it, she thinks.

Or well, the worst of what was any of her business. Family notwithstanding. Still, the point stands; he ought to be safe from wayward daydreams.

But this? It's a nightmare. Their worst nightmare.

Shepard has never been to Menae, not in person, but everyone who knew anything about Turians knew about their moon-outposts, and their military-orbital complex. It was classic Turian strategy, overwhelming force, scorched earth, even when it was home-soil. But this... this onslaught. Sovereign's overwhelming nightmare bulk times a hundred, a thousand, and that hideous roaring blare.

Worse; she could almost feel it in the way he gripped his gun. Garrus was afraid.

"Garrus," Shepard says, trying with limited success to peel herself away from the horrors in the sky, from the ice-shock panic of watching fire visibly begin to bloom across the planet itself. The memory continues, unheeded, and Shepard reaches out to try to— she doesn't know what. But damned if she's going to be ignored, "Garrus, snap out of it!"

oh my god i cant stop laughing help

[wickedprayers]

Thane didn't think about it that way. Though, he hadn't thought about it too hard after the fact. For as precise and deliberate of a person as he is, there are some things that you just have to allow to happen and let the pieces fall where they may. This is definitely one of those things, to him.

He knows that's easier said than done for others.

Thane could feel what happened, in an odd way that he can't quite explain. It's a lot like how drell's memories work, only this felt more like a shared experience.

"It would be fascinating if not for...everything else, wouldn't it?"

Don't mind his sudden and always silent appearance. He's sorry you had to see that, bro. Even if he can't help but think that it would have been nice for him to see the whole crew one last time, before his end. But it was a good end and he will always have his memories aboard the Normandy.

[standvastig]

I see. I had not yet heard anything yet.

[He's not sure what to think, honestly. Jasper's reply doesn't make it sound like he himself has had the dream, but he's trying to be mindful about not assuming.

He turns slightly in his old friend's direction, intending to say something, his elbow brushing against Jasper's hand as he sits back. It's a fairly innocent touch.

And yet.

His head immediately aches. Painfully. Confusingly.

What begins as a slight shift in his chair ends with Hendrik very unceremoniously falling forward, right into Jasper's lap.]

[itookashot]

"This is what you get to see and do every day? Damn. And here I was dreaming of a day I could fly in one of our airships." Nothing compared to this, obviously. They're ships that fly or sometimes like blimps, but they must be a piece of history for her instead, if at all. Jesper is in his normal green shades, the only addition to his overall look would be a set of twin pearl-handed revolvers holstered at his belt. They only exist in the Horizon, and apparently, only here too. Nothing like a blaster. Old-fashioned.

"How much is out there? It seems so vast." That type of space can also be overwhelming, the possibilities beyond a scope of easy understanding. Jesper loves it though. If he had a ship like this, he'd never stay in one place for long.

He gives her a playful once over and shrugs, raising an eyebrow. "I love anyone in a uniform. Gives that very 'I look all clean and polished so mess me up' vibe." Jesper swings in every which way. There's no end to the things he finds attractive in other people. "Don't mistake me, you're always hot, I just expected more glowy eyes."

The middle - Horizon

[earthborn]

[Shepard is, perhaps unsurprisingly, not much for beaches.

But she had hope, however foolish, that the Horizon would offer a respite from the chaotic bullshit of the past few days and— Normandy was too familiar. Too much there of work, and too much silence where that work might have been. She wanted air, and space, and whatever else a sunny southern beach might be it had both of those things. She had no idea where it was, or why it was here, or to whom it might belong to, but—

She stops, a line of bootprints behind her, caught out red-handed tresspasser in her blue-grey Alliance BDUs.]

Uh... Sorry, didn't mean to interrupt.

[Beautiful tall woman in a flowing dress on a sunny Mediterranean beach. If she hadn't been having waking nightmares compounded by throbbing headaches all week, she'd have called it a dream. Even so; it's certainly an arresting sight, like a vid come to life.]

I'm Shepard. Is this you're uh... [beach resort? Patch of sand?] island?

[She's just a soldier, cut her some slack.]

[wickedprayers]

Reliving memories, getting lost in them — that's one thing. But he can feel something different about this experience. Less like getting lost inside his head and more like his head is projecting over an unsecured network. The Horizon, he realizes now, is a lot like what he imagines the physical manifestation of data being shared to be, putting itself together, or taking itself apart. Far less encrypted, apparently.

He's still trying to figure out how it all works, exactly. How these symbols stamped onto their clothes work into this — Thane finds himself in hooded, concealing robes, here. He would normally find this constricting without his chest being given space to "breathe", but that isn't the case here.

Someone is seeing something of his, somewhere. Fortunately, he can hear his name being shouted, which certainly makes this a whole lot easier. He heads in that direction, wondering if he is able to ease whoever it is out of this memory. She certainly sounds distressed about it.

Using the small bits of information he picked up so far, which happens to involve acting against his better judgment, he reaches for her shoulder hoping that maybe this will bring her out of it.

The irony is not lost on him.

[earthborn]

"Yeah, it's a hell of a sight," Shepard tells him, because it truly is, and even this many years later there's still something damned majestic about the station, even as corrupt and exasperating as it is, "There's a whole city on each ward arm, and that's not including the presidium ring, or the Council tower."

Or the hundreds of cubic kilometers between each of the arms, swarming with ships large and small, the Normandy nearly the least among them. It was like being a gnat in a sandstorm, except that with Joker at the helm all chaos eventually revealed itself for being controlled, just as it once had been. The Destiny Ascension's shadow falls away, a massive whale passing the minnow behind, and the widow nebulae blazes away, glorious as ever.

I just expected more glowy eyes

"No, that's... I got hurt, in the line of duty. I should be dead," Shepard admits it readily, and with more embarrassment than agony; it wasn't a secret, "The glowing is a side effect of the cure."

More or less true; how do you explain to someone that you'd been little more than meat and tubes, and now you had no idea what held you together? Easy answer: you did not. You simply danced around the subject forever, and then one day you died.

"Not that I'm not flattered, Jesper, but aren't you a little young to be going after somebody like me?" Wait— no. She's young here too. Shit, "Hell, I must... This was 2183... I'd be 28?"

Seems like a lot longer ago than that.