It never got less strange, showing anyone just a bare face

[millay]

Who: Maeve and YOU
What: Contemplation, a minor injury, stuff
When: Post camping June times
Where: Topy, the deck, wherever
Warnings: Injury, Westworld as a whole, will update as needed



I. Topy | OPEN

Maeve's decided to celebrate - rather tamely, but still a celebration - her return from the ship with a drink and some crafts. She's gotten quite a few art supplies from the craft place at camp. She wasn't sure what crafting supplies existed on the ship outside of potentially paper. So now she didn't have to worry.

She knew, somewhat, that the Captain knew a lot about them, but now she's seen it first hand. It wasn't a lot, but she gets the feeling he was just throwing a touch in to show her that he did know. She's uncomfortable with the power held over her. So she's sipping at her whiskey, trying to enjoy the fact that she is not dead while also trying to figure out how to address the truth of home.

But tonight she's focusing on something a little less troubling and trying to have fun with it. Even if her art is, well, quite unfortunate.

She's working hard to try to sketch a picture of Hector's hat. A little something of his she could hang up or at least keep in her room. She looks up as someone enters. "Care to join me? I figure we're all due for a drink and some art." Even if they did just do a week's worth of arts and crafts already.

II. Deck | OPEN

Maeve wants some sunlight without the blinding sun of the pools. So she's taken to the deck. She walks for a little while before pausing in a spot of sunlight. She feels much like a cat, just taking it in, hands on the railings.

She's quietly humming a song from the Mariposa. She doesn't quite know the name, but she remembers the tune of it and it reminds her of a time before everything seemed to go sideways. She misses not knowing in a way that she can't quite explain, but that doesn't mean she'd go back to being an unknowing puppet. It's just easier to not know. Ignorance really is bliss.

III. Wildcard - If you have another idea, hit me up or surprise me. You can really just go for it. She's going to be out and about all over. You can find her in Tauva overthinking or in the hottub or the pool with fruity drinks. You can message me on discord at kingdonkey#6187 if you have something particular you wanna run with.

Comments

[latersgators]

"'Never was there a time when I did not exist, nor you, nor all these kings, nor in the future shall any of us cease to be,'" Steven murmurs softly. He could have rambled on about a soul isn't a thing that gets created or destroyed, or at least that's what they tell good little Jewish boys, but he goes the Bhagavad Gita route instead. That way he hopes those words bring her some comfort without coming across too preachy.

"Pearl or no pearl, we're all connected. And we'll all endure. I'm sure of it." Maybe she won't see Hector again, the way he was, the way she remembered him. Maybe Hector is all just-- code. She's so much more to Steven than just code though. He'd like to think there's a happily ever after, even for code.

"It's England. As rubbish as it's always been. Somehow feels a bit-- worse than usual, these days. But I'll tell you everything you'd like to know," he promises.

[millay]

She's not sure it necessarily helps, but she supposes that all any of them do is exist in the memories of others. If she remembers him, he still exists. But it's hard to remember people you might never see again.

"Of course, darling." Because she's not sure what else to say. She recognizes it for what it is all the same: someone trying to make her feel better about things that have already happened.

"Well, At least I don't have to feel like I missed anything." Her tone is amused. "I'll think of something, I'm sure." She hopes she didn't miss it the way she did Paris. "I'll see you soon." She needs time to process her feelings.