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

[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?"

[not_the_last]

"If I --" She swipes impatient, unsteady fingers under one eye. "If I had something to do. Something I knew how to do, something that would help. I could focus on that and get it done. But I can't -- I can't begin to fix this, or, or protect anyone from it, and --"

Her mouth shuts with an almost audible snap, as her fingers tighten on the glass.

"And I feel so useless," she finishes. "Again. Still. Is all." And swallows what's left of her drink in one go.

[pointofhonoria]

"Hey, hey." Crabb puts her glass totally aside out of the way, sits forward and, after a moment of uncertainty, rests a hand on the table in such a way that it's open for Cassandra to take if she wants. "I get it, Cassandra. I do. Hell, this might be partially my doin', so believe me I know about feeling useless right now, I want somethin' concrete to do too, but— no one seems to have a Goddamn how to fix this, which ain't reassurin', mind, but it also means it ain't on you or me or any one of us to know. Not on our own."

[not_the_last]

She hesitates only a moment before taking the offered hand, and squeezing it gratefully.

"I would feel better about that not-on-our-own part," she says, in a tone that's trying for dry humor and not quite making it, "if I weren't feeling the same way about my efforts to organize anything ..."

A pause.

"... Partially your doing?"

[pointofhonoria]

Crabb gives her hand a squeeze in return. The 'efforts to organize anything' does get filed away, she needs to determine internally if it's likely to be a passing comment about general matters or something specific before she asks, but she does answer the question. "The whole— mess, that's got me staying with Erin. With me poking around and finding out exactly why I shouldn't be doin' that when I don't understand magic none. I ain't completely convinced that doesn't have something to do with this, the timing is just too... close."

[not_the_last]

"... It could be connected," she says slowly. "I suppose. Either directly or at a remove -- it didn't happen immediately after, did it? There was some delay?"

[pointofhonoria]

"Not immediately, nah, I found what I found early last month, but this did all kick off not long after Friday uh..." Crabb winces a bit, "went into the water."

[not_the_last]

"And her absence may be causing this, in some way. Or this could have happened at any time and her presence was preventing it."

She breathes out, a frustrated noise. "Too many uncertainties, and no way to confirm any of them."

[pointofhonoria]

"Considerin' the last time Friday died the possessions happened, even if this ain't that it feels like too much of a coincidence to be a coincidence. The way she reacted... she knew somethin' bad could happen if someone found those things."

And Crabb's still kicking herself about it. Just a little.

[not_the_last]

"Something bad for someone," says Cassandra, a little darkly. "Perhaps us, perhaps her. Perhaps the Captain. Or perhaps all of us together, if all these cracks really do mean this place is coming apart."

[pointofhonoria]

"Y'know what's the thing that gets me about it? How quiet it is. The cracks are here, sure, and we're tumblin' in and out of each other's memories and messin' 'em up, but everythin' else is just going on like normal. The ship's still working. It ain't like October. And that's somehow worse feeling."

Calm before the storm.

[not_the_last]

"If the things Friday usually takes care of are still happening ..."

She trails off, shaking her head. "Then either some other entity or process is handling them, or Friday isn't gone."

[pointofhonoria]

"Mmhm. And if she ain't gone in any way that matters, then where is she? Why's Jenny running the desk? What's she up to that she can still keep doing the usual things but can't or won't show her face?"

Crabb sighs, scrubbing her face with her other hand. This is all exhausting.

[not_the_last]

"And when so much here is a game," and her voice is suddenly low and tight, "how are we meant to tell what has a natural cause and what's only a rule we haven't figured out yet?"