it's a war in there [March OTA, including memshare]

[not_the_last]

Who: Cassandra de Rolo & those visiting her memories / OTA
When: March
Where: Around the Serena Eterna; also Whitestone, at various points in the past
What: Things are beginning to crack
Warnings: Game-typical angst; in memshares, murder, torture, vampirism, mindfuckery both magical and mundane, and potentially noncon/dubcon; other warnings to be added in reply headers as needed

A. you're just like them, you're unprepared

Cassandra's noticed the cracks, of course. Before she brushes against one, they seem alarming and inexplicable; are they a trick, a trap, a sign that this whole little artificial plane is starting to come apart?

(The thought she barely lets herself contemplate: a way out?)

After her first few encounters with them, the nature of them seems more apparent -- although there's no guarantee they aren't also any of her previous thoughts. The first time her own memories double on her, with faces she knows from here appearing in them, she locks herself in her cabin's bathroom and curls up on the floor of the shower, arms wrapped around her knees, struggling not to begin screaming for fear that she might never stop.

[This prompt is for interacting with Cassandra in the present setting! Feel free to run into her anywhere on board, either before or after memshares begin, or PM/ping me on discord to discuss a more specific prompt.]

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B. cause you don't know the terrain

Several cracks about the ship, as it turns out, lead to a world called Exandria and a little city-state called Whitestone. Those who tumble into them will encounter a younger Cassandra at some point in her past.

[Specific pre-discussed prompts are below! If you would like a different one, see the plotting post here or PM/ping me to discuss.]

Comments

[pointofhonoria]

"...God's teeth, hadn't even thought about how a world like yours might make a trick like that even more hard to spot. I mean, Erin showed me her shapeshifting when I told her this way back, but—" She's still not wired to think magically, like she assumes 'changed her shape' means here. "Christ."

[not_the_last]

"Exactly. And it's not common for people to be able to do such things, so ... most people don't have a way to spot it. We only found out because she decided to show her hand."

A beat. "How did you discover this fellow, if you don't mind me asking?"

[pointofhonoria]

Crabb stares at her drink for a long moment, considering finishing the rest, but ultimately just sighs. "We uh. We found one of his hideouts. Where the freaky facial prosthesis he was usin' to make himself look like someone else was stored when he weren't using it. Saw the bloke's face staring back at me from a dresser. Bloody creepy."

[not_the_last]

"Good gods." She takes a swallow of her own drink. "Talking of things that mess with your head. I ... can just about imagine it, I think. I'd rather not."

[pointofhonoria]

"Yeah. Shook me somethin' rotten, that. Made some things make sense, the way he never let me touch his face and... yeah. Friends took care 'a me while I was feeling all sick about it." And then they were taking action within a day. That was... a tumultuous twenty-four hours. In hindsight it's no wonder she barely processed all of it before deciding... not to. "But that's why I was so hesitant with Erin, at first. Most 'a the time it don't bother me so much, but sometimes it gets you, y'know? And the way Daisy got Watson talking about somethin' as personal as she did, when she didn't have to..."

She shudders just a little.

"Don't even think it's usually her game, she's not exactly subtle now she's herself, y'know? But I hated the thought of her usin' my face like that."

[not_the_last]

"As who wouldn't. No wonder she ..."

A pause, and a look of further realization comes into her eyes. "Ah."

[pointofhonoria]

Crabb tilts her head a little. "What's just gone through your head?"

[not_the_last]

"I was about to say: no wonder she felt she was unforgivable." Cassandra studies her glass. "And then I realized why Erin must have felt that her forgiveness, in particular, might mean something."

[pointofhonoria]

Crabb sighs, and this is when she throws back the last of her glass. "...yeah. It's— I get why Erin is so determined to see the good in her, y'know? And it ain't that I don't think there can be any good in Daisy, but I ain't the person who's gonna go digging for it. I'm just... not stopping Erin from being that person. Even if it feels weird sometimes."

[not_the_last]

Cassandra sighs in turn. "Yes. That exactly. I ... don't always understand how she sees the world the way she does, but she wouldn't be who she is if she didn't."

She nods at Crabb's empty glass. "Another, or will that do for now?"

[pointofhonoria]

Crabb swirls the barest dregs in the bottom of the glass for a moment, before setting it down. "...enough for now, I think."

Her fingers drum against the table.

"I don't want Erin to change who she is, but Christ if I don't half worry about her. What she'll do to prove to herself she's— good. The Daisy thing's just one part of it, and I'll give her that Daisy's not hurt her, but..."

[not_the_last]

"To prove to herself that she can be good," Cassandra says, low. "That it's ... a valid concept. That someone can do evil and be evil, and stop. And for that to make sense to her, it has to be true about anyone. Everyone."

Even me, she doesn't say aloud, and hates the reflexive self-pity a moment later.

"I worry too. Did she ever tell you about how she tried to approach the Captain?"

[pointofhonoria]

"She still doesn't believe it about herself, that's the thing. And I ain't saying it's easy, but Christ, you shoulda seen her after I told her that everything she tries to do, her actions now, matter more than the fact she has to think about it instead of just— knowing instantly the good thing to do."

She's worried, really. She hates seeing Erin tear herself and the effort she's been making down.

"She kept me up to date with that, yeah. And it worried me then. And now there's these memory cracks and she spent like two years in one to look out for that kid she's taken under her wing and..." Crabb groans, sinking in her chair and dragging her hands over her face. Loving and being loved by Erin is worth every bit of this time spent worrying about her, but it doesn't make it less of a Lot sometimes.

[not_the_last]

Cassandra almost repeats the words two years?, but manages not to.

"I don't know how to help her either. Sometimes I don't even know ..." She sighs, looking down into her glass again. "No, there's no point to that."

[pointofhonoria]

Crabb's head tilts jusg a little. "No point to what?"

[not_the_last]

"Self-deprecation," she says, and picks up her glass. "Case in point. You can't make anyone think better of themselves just by telling them to."

[pointofhonoria]

"Ah. Yeah." Crabb snorts faintly, fingers drumming against the table again. God only knows Erin's been trying to knock some self-esteem into her, too. Not that she even considers her own self-esteem that much of a concern comparatively. "Best we can do is be there, I guess. For anyone."

[not_the_last]

"No, you're quite right." She's about to drink, as though in toast to that sentiment, but pauses; her mouth twists into a wry smile.

"I suppose that's what's happening with all these rifts. 'Being there'."

[pointofhonoria]

Crabb snorts softly. "Real literally speaking, yeah. Hardly know what to make of what it all means, mind."

[not_the_last]

"I don't know that it all means anything." A faint frown. "Unless you mean ... wait, what do you mean?"

She hasn't even drunk that much, but still feels vaguely blurry, as though her thoughts are slowed down somehow.

[pointofhonoria]

Crabb waves a hand vaguely. "What all these things popping up means about the state of ship, or what the way they affect people will mean in the long-term, or... just about anything. I dunno. Maybe I dunno what I mean. I just don't know what to make of this latest... everything."

[not_the_last]

"I don't either. I ..." She rubs her forehead. "Is it terrible if I say that I don't know if there's anything to be made of it?"

[pointofhonoria]

"Wouldn't call it terrible, but I gotta admit I ain't sure how you mean it. But maybe I'm just wired to look too hard at things. Or to—" blame herself for it, in this case. She sighs, shakes her head.

[not_the_last]

"I mean ..."

I mean I don't know if any of this can be solved even in theory, and I want to give up.

She blinks hard, and looks down at the tabletop. "I don't know what I mean either. I'm so tired."

[pointofhonoria]

Crabb's brow furrows and she sits up a bit straighter. "...you really ain't doing so hot, are you?"