come_sailaway | And I'm tryin' my best to believe in the best left in me [OPEN]

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And I'm tryin' my best to believe in the best left in me [OPEN]

Who: Honoria Crabb & you!
What: Mostly memshare
When: March
Where: Memories & the Serena Eterna
Warnings: Nothing really to start off, added as we go
Notes: Feel free to flip me to brackets I am comfortable with either style. The only prompt with any particularly notable risk of death is Prosperity Bridge, and only if things get screwed up majorly.

1. Oh your cryin's a test of the veins, of my fluid beliefs [4v1 fight, day she met Tom Broadfoot]

Gallery, in the dead of winter. New South Gallery Orphanage, or, more accurately the burned down husk of the old orphanage next door. The ground is covered in a thick layer of snow and there are children playing in places they shouldn't be, but none have strayed within the fenced off perimeter that Crabb is currently exploring.

She doesn't notice the arrival of four other adults until they're already there with her, two coming from the same gap in the fence she did and two more coming from behind her. The two men behind her are nondescript thugs she doesn't recognise, but the ginger woman and tall man are a different story.

"Y'know, I'm actually glad to see you two. Felt like I left a job half-done back at the bulletin—"

"Ooh, sounds like fun," the ginger woman taunts, "but I was thinking instead that Cork and the fellas here could go ahead and stomp you into something a little more lumpy. Something to show your boss at City Hall he needs to keep his beak out. And for me?" She pulls out a knife, holding it up like a demonstration. Crabb grits her teeth, already squaring up for a fight that only seems inevitable. "Well, see, I met this Lady back in the pen, and she's paying out large to anybody who can put another scar on that big face of yours. And I'm saving up for a new flat."

It's then that the four legbreakers move, and Crabb has to think fast to avoid getting killed right here and now.

2. When people burn bridges, the rivers, they don't seem to mind [Prosperity Bridge, the night it collapses]

Prosperity Bridge. Eight minutes to nine o'clock.

Prosperity is a hub for the rich socialites of Gallery. Fine dining, high-end shopping, a place to show off and be shown off to; a place for the upper crust to socialise and hold themselves separate from the rest of the city around them. A place that is mere minutes away from crumbling out from under their feet.

Unbeknownst to anyone here tonight, there is already a fight for their lives ongoing in the clock tower. A fight that will ultimately only end partially in their favour, preventing the bridge from collapsing quite as quickly as the Black Note intends.

Well. One person outside that clock-tower knows. Crabb arrives in a skidding frenzy, automobile coming to a screeching stop across from the tower and in front of an employee. She clambers out of the car, looking up toward the tower.

"E-Excuse me! Ma'am you cannot park your automobile here—" The poor employee protests, only for her to shut the door. "Ma'am! I said—"

But Crabb's distracted, listening to a strange, high-pitched eeeeeeeeeee sound coming from above, "Wait. Shut up. I know that sound—" Right then, a spiderweb crack appears between the 7 and 8 marks on the clock, and without a second more to waste Crabb turns and grabs the guy by his collar. "Listen to me. You gotta take me to your manager's office right bleedin' now. 'Cause there's a real good chance this bridge's minutes are numbered."

3. There's a violence I've found, in the regular things left behind [Margrave Ballroom Fundraiser, date with Tom]

The Margrave Building Ballroom. Extravagant and lustrous and filled with members of Gallerian High Society milling around discussing the latest theories about Lavender Jack, the Black Note and frankly paying very little attention to the supposed point of the evening: fundraising for the South Gallery Orphanage.

Honoria Crabb and Tom Broadfoot stand out like a sore thumb, sat where they are at the bar, dressed in police dress-blues and a cheap suit that don't match up to the glamour of those around them. Both even look like they feel out of place, sticking by each other and generally keeping out of the way rather than mingling.

"Cute," Crabb sneers, watching the politicians on stage. "Not every day you see a wolf making nice with a bear."

"Plenty of livestock to go around, I guess," Tom sighs, and Crabb snorts a grim laugh.

4. And I'm tryin' my best to believe in the best left in me [Bastrop Manor] (Sols will hop in to play Ducky, unless someone has any objections to a 3-way!)

It's two in the morning, and Crabb and Ducky are waiting for Bastrop to return from a mission, of sorts. Crabb seems fairly comfortable, here, with her police uniform's jacket shed, her tie tossed aside, and her sleeves rolled up where she and Ducky have been playing chess between cups of coffee. Speculative chatter about parts of the case has been most of the fare tonight, though Crabb's found herself drifting more and more into more mundane topics the more tired she gets.

They are the only people in this entire manor, hidden away in the canopy with a giant telescope and Bastrop's tools. The mansion is expansive and silent.

Until, of course, you arrive.

5. Oh this world is a mess [Blue Horsehoe Pub, mundane day]

In this memory, Crabb looks the closest to the Crabb that everyone knows from the boat. No police uniform, no skirts, just her go-to white button down, brown trousers with suspenders and her trenchcoat draped over the stool underneath her. Her tie is loosened a little and she's at ease, at the bar, wielding a glass of mid-tier whiskey and chatting occasionally with the tall, muscular blonde man who serves as the place's bartender.

It's a matter of business, more than it really is about relaxation; Ducky isn't here to come and gather information that Masters has picked up anymore, so while Johnny continues to run the high-society end of things, Crabb's taken to coming down to the Blue Horseshoe to see if there's anything they need to know.

It is, however, still one of the few things she does that comes close to taking any time off, during this stretch of her life. And there's space at the bar beside her.

6. But it's prettier, than what lies beneath [Serena Eterna]

Crabb is trying her best to hide the fact that this 'reality breaking apart at the seams' thing is actually shaking her up more than she'd be proud to admit. There's a part of her that can't help but wonder if this is her doing, at least in part, what with Friday MIA thanks to her actions and after she smudged the sigils in the first place. Sure, there's the whole feeding a corpse to a ghost thing, and who knows what else, but...

So, she's doing what she does best. Bury it in other work. She tries to keep track of memories she's been into or had entered, she tries to see if there's any sort of pattern (not as far as she can see), she even tries to dip back into her project writing up the story of Lavender Jack, but she's still a bit all over the place no matter what she does.

Find her in any of her usual spots around the ship, places like Windjammer or the Drunken Sailor, Tauva, the Library, the gym and sports deck, or just around.

7. Oh where do I go from here [wildcard]

Find me at

bluecitrine or at artisticblueteam#5757/in the discord.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Divvy grits her teeth, gaze flicking between 'Tom', Valdis, Crabb and Cork again. Until, finally, looking none too pleased about it, she curses, "Goddamn, everythin's gotta be a bleedin' project—" and dares to move closer to Valdis only to aggressively shake Cork until he comes to it enough to move partially on his own power.

The other goons don't even wait that long, Crabb only has to cock her head at them before they're scampering away, and Divvy and Cork aren't all that far behind.

The little kid shouts after them as they go, "Yeah! Take it on the arches, ya BUMS—"

"Ezra," 'Tom' says, his voice is soft and steady and befitting of someone guiding students. "Always be gracious in victory, you never know when a foe might later turn into a friend. You can ponder that while you get yourself back to class, young man."

"Yes, headmaster," Ezra says, before running off.

"...well, then," 'Tom' says, turning back to the women. "When Ezra came to get me I wondered if I'd have to break back out some old boxing tricks, but it seems like you ladies had the matter well in hand."

Again, Valdis simply watches the exchanges. The woman collects her goons and flees, the headmaster related wisdom to a child who likely alerted him in the first place. No clues to what anything meant, or why those people were after Crabb.

"I simply saw someone in need and I very much dislike bullies." Valdis replies. Don't alter the memory any more than you have to, she reminds herself, looking at Crabb, "Are you alright, Miss?"

"I'm fine, yeah. Probably wouldn't'a been, if you hadn't stepped in, I can handle a lot but that was uh—" She glances towards an abandoned crowbar on the floor, dropped by one of the goons, and winces. "Anyway, yeah. Didn't even get to land a punch on me. So, thanks."

'Tom' asks, "What was that about, exactly?"

"Nothin' you need to worry about, teach, it ain't got anything to do with the orphanage. Just spoke a bit to freely to their boss, earlier, and apparently he didn't take too kindly to that."

Crabb isn't even questioning anything, thank goodness, it makes this easier. Valdis watches the exchange, glad she was able to help and hoping she hasn't changed anything too much.

"He sent four people for your head," Valdis states flatly.

She knew her Crabb was scrappy, but this one seems so much more sure of herself.

Crabb heaves a breath. "Pretty bleedin' much, yeah. They should be off my back for a bit now, at least, but... well, I'd watch your back for a bit, miss— uh, whoever you are, sorry, didn't exactly catch your name on account of..."

She just gestures broadly at the area.

"And you," she looks to 'Tom', "they shouldn't bother you again since it ain't about the orphanage, but if they do show themselves you can ring up the constabulary and ask Special Inspector Honoria Crabb, alright?"

"Special Inspector Honoria Crabb," 'Tom' says with a nod, "I certainly will, thank you. Hopefully it doesn't come to that, but if they work for who I think they do then... you never can be sure."

One of Crabb's brows raises a little at that, though she seems to file it away for later.

"They'll have to send a few more than four people to even have a chance. And my name is Miranda."

But it would be messy and this is just a memory she's unlikely to stick around in. Still, she can't just kill people who might play a role in Crabb's life later on. 'Tom's' comment seems to be a leading one, one that Valdis herself would file away in her own mind for one of her investigations. She suspects Crabb is doing the same, and worries that this man is doing it on purpose. No meddling. No meddling. No...

"You said 'Tom'?" She asks, "Funny, you look so much like someone else I've seen around."

"Oh, well, I suppose I just have one of those faces that reminds people of others," 'Tom' says, and in some ways it's not a lie, he's worn many faces over the years with the express purpose of looking like others. "I rarely go anywhere but the orphanage, these days."

Now that? That's just a lie.

"Lookin' out for the next generation's a full-time job, huh," Crabb comments idly, glancing over at the new orphanage building where children are climbing on the roof and otherwise generally doing things they likely aren't allowed to.

She tips her head and if she weren't so determined to not change things, she would poke further. She and Crabb probably would have made a good team once upon a time, perhaps in another life if their worlds were the same.

"I suppose it could have been someone else."

She looks over at Crabb and little at a loss as to how to get out of this memory. So far she's had to ride them all out to the end.

"It must have been. I'm sure I even have relatives in the city, even if I've never met them." Also true of both 'Tom' and Tom, as orphans placed in the orphanage by the green rings. 'Tom' has yet to truly meet his father, even if he knows who he is. "And you're quite right, Inspector Crabb. It is a full-time job. One I should probably be getting back to, if you ladies feel safe enough to leave."

Crabb, who has started moving around trying to find where her hat fell, glances back towards 'Tom' and Valdis to nod, "I've only gotta go as far as Opal to get home. I'm fine."

'Tom' bends down briefly and comes up with the missing hat from where it was tucked behind some debris, and hands it over to her with a little smile.

Valdis doesnt' answer, still suspicious of 'Tom', but the memory fades before she can do anything else.

Back on the Eterna, Valids opens her eyes and sighs, so sick of ending up in memories and holding herself back. But 'Tom', Valdis doesn't like him and so she's going to actually seek out Crabb. They are overdo for a chat about the Ghosts anyway, she can tack Tom onto it.

She beelines for where Crabb's soul is, assuming that the woman is in the same place. Though they would have different problems if it wasn't.

Luckily their problems do not involve Crabb's soul being elsewhere (for now, who knows what's to come around here) and she's easily found sat in the library where she's been trying to pick at her writing.

When the new memory suddenly snaps into place it's not a far leap to assume Valdis might come by, and regardless Crabb starts packing up in preparation to go and find her if she doesn't appear before long.

And when she does see Valdis approach, she raises her hand in a short wave, "You shoulda seen the state they actually left me in, the first go around."

Crabb's soul is with her in the library, thank goodness. Though the woman seems unconcerned by the altered memory.

"I tried not to change things too much," She admits as she approaches, knowing she recently yelled at someone else over that, "I just, it seemed like an unfair fight. Did...did Tom still appear in the original memory?"

"Mmhm," Crabb confirms, leaning with one arm against the back of her seat. "He was my original rescuer, in fact. That little kid runnin' off and grabbing him was the only reason I left that fight alive, if I look at it all honest like."

There's a furrow in her brow and a tone to her voice that suggests not a sense of gratitude, or even of relief, but of the complicated mess of frustration that's actually there in her emotions.

"Even then, I was bleeding buckets and concussed to Hell and back by the time they were done with me."

"He was lying," Valdis says, taking the seat across from Crabb, "But something tells me you know that. Now at least."

She takes a breath and slowly releases it, leaning back in the chair to drop her head back.

"Well, I'm glad I saved you a concussion at least. Even if I was loathe to prod him too much."

Crabb sighs, with a bone-deep sort of exhaustion. "He sure was, yeah. Every step of the bleedin' way, except where he wasn't, and honestly the moments where he wasn't sometimes feel worse than the lies do... Christ, that don't make any sense, does it? Sorry, uh— yeah. He weren't who he said he was, but you wouldn't have gotten much out of him then and there. He took his fake identities real seriously."

"I think you underestimate my skills of information retrieval." It's almost a tease, but Crabb seems truly upset about 'Tom' and his lies.

"What I'm getting from your feelings is that I should have punched him."

Was that the right girls supporting girls answer? Or would Crabb have just preferred things were left alone.

"What did he do?"

"Punchin' him wouldn't'a been enough," Crabb snorts, though she cringes at herself and shakes her head. "I mean— look I ain't the type to actually suggest killin' someone for revenge's sake, but Christ, I'm glad the bastard's dead. He..."

She's explained this multiple times by now, and it's getting easier, but easier isn't easy. She sighs, fiddling with her gloves.

"His real name was Cecil Cragen. Tom Broadfoot was a real person, once upon a time—Hell, they were even basically brothers, the two of them and this other bloke called Delany—but far as we've figured he killed Tom right about when he started his big plan to get rid of Gallery's corruption by terrorising the city under the name the Black Note." She snorts again. It didn't work, it wouldn't have even if he'd pulled it off.

"He took over Tom's life. And he was real good at what he did, by all accounts it was a perfect impression. We met again, a bit after that day at the orphanage, and he said this stuff that... I understood, y'know? We clicked. So when the Black Note took down an entire bridge full of people, people I tried to save but couldn't, I sorta... subconsciously went by the orphanage again."

She bites the inside of her cheek and her fists clench tight.

"And when he came out to comfort me, I tried to kiss him. Or, y'know, the man who I thought he was. And if he hadn't been wearing a freaky prosthetic mask to look like Tom? I think he woulda let me, 'cause he sure let me think we were seeing each other for the next several months 'til we busted him."

Valdis listens, her eyes narrowing the longer Crabb speaks, her mind reeling with each word. Valdis takes a breath when Crabb finishes.

"Bastard."

A pause.

"I'm going to go back and punch him."

Yeah, the bastard messed with her friend in the past, but the present can at least feel better.

That startles a burst of a laugh out of Crabb and she sits up straighter, expression settling into a lopsided sort of smile. "Be my guest, though I might call dibs if you can find the same crack over again, never did get to punch him myself."

And Christ does she want to. Even after nearly three years, now, the lack of closure on everything that happened with Cragen bothers her.

"...y'know it's been a weird sorta relief that everyone I tell about this comes outta it wanting to punch the guy. Ain't like I didn't know it was messed up to do what he did, but... I dunno." It's validating anyway. That the's right to be angry. That her reaction to what he did is understandable.

A moment of silence and then a very mischievous grin, one that should probably be alarming to Crabb, crosses her face, delight filling her eyes.

"I remember where it is, and it didn't close behind me."

Crabb's brow starts raising at the sudden grin, before she makes clear what the reason behind it is and Crabb doesn't just sit up straighter, she leans forward against the table and Valdis. "No kidding, seriously?"

Look she didn't expect that comment to actually be possible.

"Yep."

Being able to actually punch someone who deserves it will be so refreshing.

"I can get us right there if we shadowwalk. Otherwise it will take a few minutes."

Crabb considers the options for a second and then asks, "—am I gonna be sick or go falling out of ceilings if I agree to the shadowwalk thing?"

It's a fair concern, okay, she's never travelled like that and she has not forgotten Valdis falling out of the ceiling in front of her.

Fall out of the ceiling ONE time. Valdis shakes her head.

"I haven't had any issues with shadow walking since then." Minus Shiranui's interference. "And I've never gotten sick, so I assume not."

She holds out her hand, "Come on, it will be worth it."

Crabb will never miss the opportunity to bring something like that up. Never. Sorry, Valdis.

Crabb eyes the hand for a moment, but, well, it can't be worse than the headache going through the metal detectors, surely, and she's done that plenty of times, so... "Alright, then," she says, and takes the hand.

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