[don't be gross. lucretia leans away, managing a very quiet,]
Yuck.
[but also she's-- she's thinking. these things can't be real, there's no way that it would carry over even if this could be true, right-- even if the hag knows about her, surely that's just a trick of this place.]
We're not even in my own world right now-- we're not in the one I last remember being in. You have no assurance there's anything you could offer me at all that would last.
But you cannot deny that it is something you cannot achieve on your own. [she says, tilting her head back.] You have already hurt them so much, Lucretia. Do you mean to tell me you would not give a little more, to see the twins reunited?
I can't-- I can't give you any of them to bring one back. I can't allow anything to happen to them, and I've already given up so much over the course of my work. I can't risk my world's safety, either.
[she's lost a lot in the course of her life, and the things that immediately come to mind are all-- things she really cannot afford to add to that list.]
A soul, in another time, offered exile. To give up her place among friends and family, to save another. [head tilt.] But I will not make a decision for you.
[because that-- it's something she can't give up either. her heart hurts at the thought; they may not choose to forgive her and that's going to be their right, but she can't keep herself away from them forever. she was never meant to, and it's been... it's been lonely.]
You know about me, so I'm sure you're aware enough, but the place that I call home now... wasn't always.
If you need something that I wouldn't want to lose, then it's-- it's the memory of a place that doesn't exist anywhere but in memory.
[and her heart hurts at this thought too. she locked her quarters with the number they lost. she still uses that, here. when she needed to create the best possible piece of art that she could, she pulled on her memories of a two-sunned world they're never going to see again.
she doesn't want to lose it, but for lup and taako she thinks-- maybe she can.]
[she does hesitate for just-- just a moment, here, but god, this trip has been a lot. it's hard in the moment to keep in mind what everyone else said before.
she gave up so much already, but she could stomach a little more for them. for something she couldn't fix on her own. the original offer was easy enough to push aside, but this one...
for a moment, there's silence. and then the world around them starts to change. the hut melts away, and is replaced by a world with two suns. it's bright, and warm, today. the wind is just enough to keep it nice out. you are on your way to something important, but you find that you can't remember, exactly, what it is. there was a conference? you think you were asked to speak somewhere, but you're not sure why. and as you realize that, the world cracks. the sidewalk under your feet starts to fall away, and the sky buzzes, burns with - static, white noise that crawls up through you, burns brightly in your head. you can't remember where this is. what this is. it doesn't exist. and it's gone, wiped clear.
but that isn't the end of it. because you see two elves, standing hand in hand, and you don't know them, either. their names are on the tip of your tongue, and you reach out, as if to call for them, but they turn their backs to you, and walk away, and then - they're gone, too. a dwarven man in a beach shirt frowns at you, a human man with brilliant sideburns looks at you like you've stabbed him in the back, and you don't know why. a gnome, opens his mouth, and static comes out. a man in glasses and blue jeans shakes his head, and looks away, dissolves into a black smoke.
and your home. the one you came from, and the one you have now on the satellite moon, your friends you have made, your sacrifices, your everything - it's gone, it's all gone, and you can't remember who you are, or what you've done. you are empty.
empty. empty. empty.
you live for a long time, like this. you wander, alone, across a world that doesn't know who you are. and you die, alone, when a tendril of black opal shatters the sky, rips the world to shreds.
and then you wake up, in a grave. a familiar coat whips in the cold winter wind above your head, and it's the last thing you see.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Yuck.
[but also she's-- she's thinking. these things can't be real, there's no way that it would carry over even if this could be true, right-- even if the hag knows about her, surely that's just a trick of this place.]
We're not even in my own world right now-- we're not in the one I last remember being in. You have no assurance there's anything you could offer me at all that would last.
[she's clinging to that, for the moment.]
no subject
But you cannot deny that it is something you cannot achieve on your own. [she says, tilting her head back.] You have already hurt them so much, Lucretia. Do you mean to tell me you would not give a little more, to see the twins reunited?
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...give what, exactly.
[she'll at least just-- ask. find out. in case.]
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[she's lost a lot in the course of her life, and the things that immediately come to mind are all-- things she really cannot afford to add to that list.]
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[silence, for a moment:]
A soul, in another time, offered exile. To give up her place among friends and family, to save another. [head tilt.] But I will not make a decision for you.
no subject
[because that-- it's something she can't give up either. her heart hurts at the thought; they may not choose to forgive her and that's going to be their right, but she can't keep herself away from them forever. she was never meant to, and it's been... it's been lonely.]
You know about me, so I'm sure you're aware enough, but the place that I call home now... wasn't always.
If you need something that I wouldn't want to lose, then it's-- it's the memory of a place that doesn't exist anywhere but in memory.
[and her heart hurts at this thought too. she locked her quarters with the number they lost. she still uses that, here. when she needed to create the best possible piece of art that she could, she pulled on her memories of a two-sunned world they're never going to see again.
she doesn't want to lose it, but for lup and taako she thinks-- maybe she can.]
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That would be acceptable, yes.
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Then we have a transaction made.
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she gave up so much already, but she could stomach a little more for them. for something she couldn't fix on her own. the original offer was easy enough to push aside, but this one...
lucretia takes her hand.]
no subject
for a moment, there's silence. and then the world around them starts to change. the hut melts away, and is replaced by a world with two suns. it's bright, and warm, today. the wind is just enough to keep it nice out. you are on your way to something important, but you find that you can't remember, exactly, what it is. there was a conference? you think you were asked to speak somewhere, but you're not sure why. and as you realize that, the world cracks. the sidewalk under your feet starts to fall away, and the sky buzzes, burns with - static, white noise that crawls up through you, burns brightly in your head. you can't remember where this is. what this is. it doesn't exist. and it's gone, wiped clear.
but that isn't the end of it. because you see two elves, standing hand in hand, and you don't know them, either. their names are on the tip of your tongue, and you reach out, as if to call for them, but they turn their backs to you, and walk away, and then - they're gone, too. a dwarven man in a beach shirt frowns at you, a human man with brilliant sideburns looks at you like you've stabbed him in the back, and you don't know why. a gnome, opens his mouth, and static comes out. a man in glasses and blue jeans shakes his head, and looks away, dissolves into a black smoke.
and your home. the one you came from, and the one you have now on the satellite moon, your friends you have made, your sacrifices, your everything - it's gone, it's all gone, and you can't remember who you are, or what you've done. you are empty.
empty. empty. empty.
you live for a long time, like this. you wander, alone, across a world that doesn't know who you are. and you die, alone, when a tendril of black opal shatters the sky, rips the world to shreds.
and then you wake up, in a grave. a familiar coat whips in the cold winter wind above your head, and it's the last thing you see.]