faesphere | Calibrations Text References

Entry tags:

Calibrations Text References

Just a place for dumping calibration info/writeups w/ included HTML.

UPDATE: also for storing memories for Hugtopia Memory share, for Lup and Noctis.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[The first room any visitors find themselves in is a simple but lived-in kitchen, clean but obviously one that sees constant use, the wear and tear showing in the appliances and decor. Chipped and mismatched dishware, multi-coloured cabinets that have been repainted or repaired over the years, a long table with seven chairs, all different sizes and styles as if personally chosen for the user rather than a set. The air smells faintly of sweets. One wall has a window to the outside, displaying a sea of stars passing by, indistinguishable from each other but indicating that the ship is obviously traveling through space, much like the fleet during a drift. On another wall is a chalkboard with a list of names: Cap'nport, Lucy, Burnsides, Bluejeans, Lup, Taako, and "fuckin Highchurch". Beside each name is a set of tally marks, and not a one has less than 5. The last name has almost 60. Lup has 15. Above the board is its title- "DEATH COUNT". It's whimsically decorated despite the subject matter.

A handful of items stand out among the rest, as if drawing the eye (or hand) to them:
-a cookie jar
-a red robe draped over a chair
-a model ship in a bottle
-a small bag of gold with a vial of blue liquid atop a parchment paper
-a bottle of alcohol with the label "Grey Goose"
-a set of sheet music

Towards the back of the room, a doorway is blocked by a curtain of faded beads, and behind them veils of deep black silk. If approached, it gives off a strange, dark vibe- implying that more lies beyond, but it won't be as cheery.

Lup is working at the counter, mixing something together. She's humming a song under her breath, something soft and peppy, and she doesn't acknowledge the arrival of anyone, but you can try to talk to her if you like.

You can also go straight for the back room. Approaching it will make that dark vibe grow stronger, but there are no barriers preventing entry.]

(( ooc: more details on all of Lup's options found here if you want to know what you're getting into! ))

BACK ROOM:

[The room beyond the curtains isn't nearly so domestic. There are no decorations, no furniture, no windows or doors. Every wall is draped in that same black fabric, soft and pliant but impassable. Any attempt to go beyond it is futile. The atmosphere of this place is also... oppressive, steeped in negative emotions: there's fear, there's anger, there's loneliness.

There's so much loneliness here.

no one comes here

no one finds me

There's a set of objects scattered in the room seemingly at random, sprawled haphazardly on the floor
-an intricately decorated umbrella
-a silver gauntlet with fiery accents
-a human skull
-a folded paper note, sealed in wax with a lipstick mark above it
-a little copper bell

And in the center of the room is Lup again... or a being that could be Lup, anyway. Her flesh, features, and casual clothing are all gone, leaving a spectral figure in a flowing red robe hovering a few inches above the ground. Skeletal hands are visible below the sleeves, and eerie, glowing red eyes peer out of the shadow of her hood. When she speaks, her voice has an echoing quality to it, as befitting the ghostly body it's coming from.]

...I did kind of warn you.

TOPLEVEL PASTE:

[The first room any visitors find themselves in is a simple but lived-in kitchen, clean but obviously one that sees constant use, the wear and tear showing in the appliances and decor. Chipped and mismatched dishware, multi-coloured cabinets that have been repainted or repaired over the years, a long table with seven chairs, all different sizes and styles as if personally chosen for the user rather than a set. The air smells faintly of sweets. One wall has a window to the outside, displaying a sea of stars passing by, indistinguishable from each other but indicating that the ship is obviously traveling through space, much like the fleet during a drift. On another wall is a chalkboard with a list of names: Cap'nport, Lucy, Burnsides, Bluejeans, Lup, Taako, and "fuckin Highchurch". Beside each name is a set of tally marks, and not a one has less than 5. The last name has almost 60. Lup has 15. Above the board is its title- "DEATH COUNT". It's whimsically decorated despite the subject matter.

A handful of items stand out among the rest, as if drawing the eye (or hand) to them:
-a cookie jar
-a red robe draped over a chair
-a model ship in a bottle
-a small bag of gold with a vial of blue liquid atop a parchment paper
-a bottle of alcohol with the label "Grey Goose"
-a set of sheet music

Towards the back of the room, a doorway is blocked by a curtain of faded beads, and behind them veils of deep black silk. If approached, it gives off a strange, dark vibe- implying that more lies beyond, but it won't be as cheery.

Lup is working at the counter, mixing something together. She's humming a song under her breath, something soft and peppy, and she doesn't acknowledge the arrival of anyone, but you can try to talk to her if you like.

You can also go straight for the back room. Approaching it will make that dark vibe grow stronger, but there are no barriers preventing entry.]

(( ooc: more details on all of Lup's options found <a href="https://docs.google.com/spreadsheets/d/1nmfqaMNM7l1FV5TZerd6O6PzpKTKT0PE6LLPoxM3nJ0/edit?usp=sharing">here</a> if you want to know what you're getting into! ))

SECOND ROOM PASTE:

[The room beyond the curtains isn't nearly so domestic. There are no decorations, no furniture, no windows or doors. Every wall is draped in that same black fabric, soft and pliant but impassable. Any attempt to go beyond it is futile. The atmosphere of this place is also... oppressive, steeped in negative emotions: there's fear, there's anger, there's loneliness.

There's so much loneliness here.

no one comes here

no one finds me

There's a set of objects scattered in the room seemingly at random, sprawled haphazardly on the floor
-an intricately decorated <a href="https://i.imgur.com/1zPNhiF.png">umbrella</a>
-a silver gauntlet with fiery accents
-a human skull
-a folded paper note, sealed in wax with a lipstick mark above it
-a little copper bell

And in the center of the room is Lup again... or a <a href="https://i.imgur.com/qUIEaAl.png">being</a> that could be Lup, anyway. Her flesh, features, and casual clothing are all gone, leaving a spectral figure in a flowing red robe hovering a few inches above the ground. Skeletal hands are visible below the sleeves, and eerie, glowing red eyes peer out of the shadow of her hood. When she speaks, her voice has an echoing quality to it, as befitting the ghostly body it's coming from.]

...I did kind of warn you.

Edited 2019-01-24 16:10 (UTC)

----------

When the room changes, the scene it reveals is... blurry. Bits and pieces of it are fuzzy, making it difficult to see many of the details. It still looks like a kitchen, but a different one- a more simple looking design, less sleek but more uniform. It smells sweet and the air is warm. Four chairs are placed around an old wooden table and one is occupied by a small, blond-haired child who is quietly watching an adult female elf wrap a bandage around the child's leg. Something is odd about her face, shifting and coalescing, features changing from moment to moment. One second she looks exactly like Lup, the next she looks older, then younger, then her nose is bigger or her eyes are a different colour. The child in the memory never notices the changes.

"Mama? Is Koko gonna be okay?" The child - Lup - whispers. Her shoulders hunch, fear audible in her voice.

Her mother hums. Unlike her features, her voice rings through clearly enough. She sounds fairly young. "He'll be fine, sweetie. His cut was deeper than yours, so Papa wants someone else to make sure it'll heal safe. You'll see him tomorrow."

Lup is quiet again, her eyes glued to the window, waiting. There's another wave of anxiety, mingling with frustration. Tomorrow is too long. He'd been crying, he'll be lonely. "Can we go there too?"

The elf woman sighs. "I'm working tomorrow. It'll be hard enough with your father…" She trails off, then looks up. Her face blurs, there and gone and back again, and she smiles and brushes a hand through Lup's hair. Warm. "Sorry, honey. We can't go tonight, it's almost bedtime."

"I don't care about bedtime, I-"

"The answer is no." Silence follows the stern scolding, and her mother returns to quietly bandaging her leg until she can fasten it shut and relax, leaning in to kiss the child's forehead. "I know you want to see him. I'm certain he'll be missing you, too. But the roads are dangerous at night, and he and your father will want you safe too, don't you think? They'll be at your auntie's tonight." She's quiet a moment, studying Lup's expression, and then sighs and murmurs, "How about sending a message, then?"

Lup's eyes light up, instantly relieved, and her mother goes to fetch a quill from a locked box and offer it out to her. The child focuses intently on it for a long moment, then calls out, "Taako? How are you feeling, are you okay? Is your leg gonna fall off? It better not! Um- Mama and me just wanna say goodnight! Come home soon!" The spell winks out a few words early, but Lup doesn't notice, her eyes closed, waiting for a response. When her eyes open again, they're bright and happy. "He's okay! They're still with the healer. He says goodnight and that you gotta teach me how to count better."

Her mother laughs, loud and relieved, and trades the quill for a warm, soft cookie. A hand brushes a hand through Lup's hair as she takes a huge bite and grins with chocolate in her teeth.

----------

When the room changes, the scene it reveals is... blurry. Bits and pieces of it are fuzzy, making it difficult to see many of the details. It still looks like a kitchen, but a different one- a more simple looking design, less sleek but more uniform. It smells sweet and the air is warm. Four chairs are placed around an old wooden table and one is occupied by a small, blond-haired child who is quietly watching an adult female elf wrap a bandage around the child's leg.  Something is odd about her features, shifting and coalescing, features changing from moment to moment. One second she looks exactly like Lup, the next she looks older, then younger, then her nose is bigger or her eyes are a different colour. The child in the memory never notices the changes.

"Mama? Is Koko gonna be okay?" The child - Lup - whispers. Her shoulders hunch, fear audible in her voice.

Her mother hums. Unlike her features, her voice rings through clearly enough. She sounds fairly young. "He'll be fine, sweetie. His cut was deeper than yours, so Papa wants someone else to make sure it'll heal safe. You'll see him tomorrow."

Lup is quiet again, her eyes glued to the window, waiting. There's another wave of anxiety, mingling with frustration. Tomorrow is too long. He'd been crying, he'll be lonely. "Can we go there too?"

The elf woman sighs. "I'm working tomorrow. It'll be hard enough with your father…" She trails off, then looks up. Her face blurs, there and gone and back again, and she smiles and brushes a hand through Lup's hair. Warm. "Sorry, honey. We can't go tonight, it's almost bedtime."

"I don't care about bedtime, I-"

"The answer is no." Silence follows the stern scolding, and her mother returns to quietly bandaging her leg until she can fasten it shut and relax, leaning in to kiss the child's forehead. "I know you want to see him. I'm certain he'll be missing you, too. But the roads are dangerous at night, and he and your father will want you safe too, don't you think? They'll be at your auntie's tonight." She's quiet a moment, studying Lup's expression, and then sighs and murmurs, "How about sending a message, then?"

Lup's eyes light up, instantly relieved, and her mother goes to fetch a quill from a locked box and offer it out to her. The child focuses intently on it for a long moment, then calls out, "Taako? How are you feeling, are you okay? Is your leg gonna fall off? It better not! Um- Mama and me just wanna say goodnight! Come home soon!" The spell winks out a few words early, but Lup doesn't notice, her eyes closed, waiting for a response. When her eyes open again, they're bright and happy. "He's okay! They're still with the healer. He says goodnight and that you gotta teach me how to count better."

Her mother laughs, loud and relieved, and trades the quill for a warm, soft cookie. A hand brushes a hand through Lup's hair as she takes a huge bite and grins with chocolate in her teeth.

Edited 2019-02-13 06:51 (UTC)

The scenery changes to reveal a forest that is quiet for only a second before two small figures burst through the brush, one after the other. They look identical, both about eight or nine, and are only discernible through their clothing and minute differences in hairstyle. They wrestle in the dirt for a while before one pins the other, holding them down until they slump and whine, conceding defeat. The victor raises both fists to the sky, shouting, "Taako down! Another win for Lup!" and then crawls off to help the loser up.

"Only 'cause you got the first move in," Taako mumbles, dusting himself off.

Lup scoffs. "Whatever. That means you owe me one. You promised to keep quiet." She waits until her twin huffs an agreement, fidgets, then reaches out to tug him in close. She cups a hand over his ear and whispers for a moment.

There's a long, lingering silence, until Taako finally breaks it with, "That's it? That's your big secret? I knew that already!"

Lup stares, then stomps her foot. "Liar! There's no way! Even I didn't-"

"Yeah you did, dingus, you just weren't saying it."

They bicker back and forth for a while, almost devolving into another wrestling match, until they finally settle down on a log and Lup lets Taako unravel and braid her messy hair. It's quiet until Lup whispers, "It's okay, right?"

Taako hums, gently tugging free a knot in her locks. "Yeah, it's okay."

"You swear? You don't mind?"

"Dummy. You're still Lulu."

They fall silent again, and when Lup sniffles, Taako reaches forward to wrap his arms around her.

-----

The scene shifts again. It's years later, and the two are standing in a room so finely decorated with ancient artifacts and expensive objects that they, scrappy preteens dressed like your standard fantasy peasants, look incredibly out of place. They're holding hands, and Lup is clutching a plain leather bag close to her chest as they wait. At last a tall male elf in equally intricate robes steps into the room and approaches them. He holds a hand out.

"You have the requested items?" Lup nods and hands the bag over, and they wait as he opens it to examine its contents. Coins jingle as he fishes two small bottles out and shakes the rest. Satisfied with his findings, he passes the bag to an assistant who'd followed him inside and gestures to the carpeted floor. "Sit down. We are not to be disturbed for an hour, after which the change will be permanent. This is your last chance: are you certain?"

Silence greets him, broken only by the weak, shuddering breath Lup takes. She opens her mouth, hesitates. Her hand clutches Taako's more tightly.

"Lulu, you got this," he whispers. She looks over at him, eyes wide, frightened. "We got this."

She lets go of his hand only to fling her arms around him, clinging tightly. While she hugs him, she finally calls out, "I'm sure. I'm ready."

They sit down as he arranges the bottles, holding them in one hand while he waves a candle with the other, smoke wafting through the air. A bolt of arcane energy flies towards them and hits Lup in the chest, but she makes no move to dodge or resist it. She closes her eyes, holds fast to Taako's hand, and waits. Nothing discernable happens, but after a few seconds she gasps, tugging Taako closer to herself, and hunches over, trembling.

"Lup?" Taako calls quietly, mindful of the wizard's scrutinizing gaze. He looks defensive now, angry on her behalf. "Lulu, are you okay? Do you want to-"

"No," she mutters, and when she looks up at him she's smiling, tears of relief in her eyes. "No, it's just… it feels right. It feels just like it should, I think."

She closes her eyes again, and after a moment, so does he. They wait; fifty-nine minutes and counting.

"Only 'cause you got the first move in," Taako mumbles, dusting himself off.

Lup scoffs. "Whatever. That means you owe me one. You promised to keep quiet." She waits until her twin huffs an agreement, fidgets, then reaches out to tug him in close. She cups a hand over his ear and whispers for a moment.

There's a long, lingering silence, until Taako finally breaks it with, "That's it? That's your big secret? I knew that already!"

Lup stares, then stomps her foot. "Liar! There's no way! Even I didn't-"

"Yeah you did, dingus, you just weren't saying it."

They bicker back and forth for a while, almost devolving into another wrestling match, until they finally settle down on a log and Lup lets Taako unravel and braid her messy hair. It's quiet until Lup whispers, "It's okay, right?"

Taako hums, gently tugging free a knot in her locks. "Yeah, it's okay."

"You swear? You don't mind?"

"Dummy. You're still Lulu."

They fall silent again, and when Lup sniffles, Taako reaches forward to wrap his arms around her.

-----

The scene shifts again. It's years later, and the two are standing in a room so finely decorated with ancient artifacts and expensive objects that they, scrappy preteens dressed like your standard fantasy peasants, look incredibly out of place. They're holding hands, and Lup is clutching a plain leather bag close to her chest as they wait. At last a tall male elf in equally intricate robes steps into the room and approaches them. He holds a hand out.

"You have the requested items?" Lup nods and hands the bag over, and they wait as he opens it to examine its contents. Coins jingle as he fishes two small bottles out and shakes the rest. Satisfied with his findings, he passes the bag to an assistant who'd followed him inside and gestures to the carpeted floor. "Sit down. We are not to be disturbed for an hour, after which the change will be permanent. This is your last chance: are you certain?"

Silence greets him, broken only by the weak, shuddering breath Lup takes. She opens her mouth, hesitates. Her hand clutches Taako's more tightly.

"Lulu, you got this," he whispers. She looks over at him, eyes wide, frightened. "We got this."

She lets go of his hand only to fling her arms around him, clinging tightly. While she hugs him, she finally calls out, "I'm sure. I'm ready."

They sit down as he arranges the bottles, holding them in one hand while he waves a candle with the other, smoke wafting through the air. A bolt of arcane energy flies towards them and hits Lup in the chest, but she makes no move to dodge or resist it. She closes her eyes, holds fast to Taako's hand, and waits. Nothing discernable happens, but after a few seconds she gasps, tugging Taako closer to herself, and hunches over, trembling.

"Lup?" Taako calls quietly, mindful of the wizard's scrutinizing gaze. He looks defensive now, angry on her behalf. "Lulu, are you okay? Do you want to-"

"No," she mutters, and when she looks up at him she's smiling, tears of relief in her eyes. "No, it's just… it feels right. It feels just like it should, I think."

She closes her eyes again, and after a moment, so does he. They wait; fifty-nine minutes and counting.

Edited 2019-01-21 04:59 (UTC)

[The light of the kitchen shimmers across the glass, and that sensation grows and grows until a scene dissolves into view.

The ship is real, now, no longer in a bottle but all around. Six people stand in a circle on the deck - Lup, Taako, two human men and one woman, and a dwarf. A gnome steers at the helm, apart but close by. Stars fly by the ship as it sails and in the distance, huge and overwhelming but mercifully leaving the ship alone is an enormous mass of black scarred by countless streaks of colours, tendrils slamming down on the world they're abandoning. Everyone is quiet, the atmosphere solemn and grim as they watch the destruction below.

Lup is the one who breaks the silence, first with a flippant joke-]

Listen. That stuff I was saying down there — that wasn’t just, that wasn’t just talk. I believe that, one of these times, we’re gonna get it right. And we’re gonna find a way to defeat the Hunger and... save everybody inside of it. I— I have to believe that, to keep doing what we do. Because I have to believe... that I’m gonna get... those fifteen dollars back from Greg fucking Grimaldis!

[-to make them all laugh and then, more quietly, to encourage them all to do better, to be better.]

Seriously, though, it got— we got dark down there. I— I know this journey’s been hard, and it’s only going to get harder, but we can’t allow ourselves to— to get to that place again. To even think about destroying an entire world. We need to promise each other, right now, we— we won’t let one another get to that place. Never again.

[She stretches a hand out, holding it in the air towards the center of the circle, her expression firm and urgent. She won't tolerate a repeat of what happened, no matter what. Slowly, one by one, they all join their hands with hers, echoing the sentiment in their own ways, and she smiles at them all. This is her family now, every single one of them, and she believes, she knows they can be better. She looks at Taako in particular and something shifts in her gaze, a look of understanding and forgiveness. He'd done something to earn her ire, but in the end he'd made it right again. She's glad, the relief in her expression plain as day. She hates feeling angry with him.

They all stand like that for a while as the ship flies further and further away, leaving the ruined plane behind them, and suddenly their bodies all dissolve into threads of light, carried off to separate corners of the ship. The cycle begins anew.

Here we go again.

And with one final flash of light, the memory is gone, and the kitchen is back.]

[The light of the kitchen shimmers across the glass, and that sensation grows and grows until a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qFWtksjUS4U&feature=youtu.be&t=40">scene</a> dissolves into view.

The ship is real, now, no longer in a bottle but all around. Six people stand in a circle on the deck - Lup, Taako, two human men and one woman, and a dwarf. A gnome steers at the helm, apart but close by. Stars fly by the ship as it sails and in the distance, huge and overwhelming but mercifully leaving the ship alone is an enormous mass of black scarred by countless streaks of colours, tendrils slamming down on the world they're abandoning. Everyone is quiet, the atmosphere solemn and grim as they watch the destruction below.

Lup is the one who breaks the silence, first with a flippant joke-]

Listen. That stuff I was saying down there — that wasn’t just, that wasn’t just talk. I believe that, one of these times, we’re gonna get it right. And we’re gonna find a way to defeat the Hunger and... save everybody inside of it. I— I have to believe that, to keep doing what we do. Because I have to believe... that I’m gonna get... those fifteen dollars back from Greg fucking Grimaldis!

[-to make them all laugh and then, more quietly, to encourage them all to do better, to be better.]

Seriously, though, it got— we got dark down there. I— I know this journey’s been hard, and it’s only going to get harder, but we can’t allow ourselves to— to get to that place again. To even think about destroying an entire world. We need to promise each other, right now, we— we won’t let one another get to that place. Never again.

[She stretches a hand out, holding it in the air towards the center of the circle, her expression firm and urgent. She won't tolerate a repeat of what happened, no matter what. Slowly, one by one, they all join their hands with hers, echoing the sentiment in their own ways, and she smiles at them all. This is her family now, every single one of them, and she believes, she knows they can be better. She looks at Taako in particular and something shifts in her gaze, a look of understanding and forgiveness. He'd done something to earn her ire, but in the end he'd made it right again. She's glad, the relief in her expression plain as day. She hates feeling angry with him.

They all stand like that for a while as the ship flies further and further away, leaving the ruined plane behind them, and suddenly their bodies all dissolve into threads of light, carried off to separate corners of the ship. The cycle begins anew.

Here we go again.

And with one final flash of light, the memory is gone, and the kitchen is back.]

Edited 2019-03-10 08:22 (UTC)

She comes home to a scrappy, one-room, one-bed apartment, tired from a long day's work, anxious of what she'll find here. Today's supposed to be the day. Today is when they'll know, after months of waiting. The mail is on the floor and she scoops it up, flipping through. It's mostly notices for funds owed- to the alchemist, the armory, the supplier. Everything they'd scraped together on lien so they could perform their practical exam, with the promise of payment (and perhaps a Charm spell or two to get the paperwork signed) was now due. They were fucked if-

-if the IPRE letters weren't there. Which. They were. Emblazoned across the wax-sealed envelopes, plain as day. "The Institute of Planer Research and Exploration". One for her, one for Taako. She does not open them, not even her own. She sits down on the bed with them, and she waits quietly, fingers twisting together, stress permeating the whole room.

what if we didn't get in?

what if we fucked it up?

what if one of us got in and the other-

She replays the exam in her mind again, over and over, searching for any errors she could have made that would result in them denying her entry. She hadn't. She couldn't have. And Taako boasted that he'd done it perfectly as well, but he'd have done that anyway, even if he'd bungled it up. He wanted her to get in as much as she wanted him to.

fuck

fuck

we'll have to skip town again, we'll have to start over

This paranoia feeds her thoughts until the door opens and Taako joins her, bitching about work or some other nonsense until he catches sight of her expression, and the envelope in her hands. He freezes. Wordlessly she holds it up to him as he joins her on the bed. Silence lies thick like a blanket between them both, until finally Lup says, "Together, or not at all."

"Together, or not at all," is his echo, and as one they tear open the envelopes and draw out the letters to read the contents within. Lup's eyes scan the text until she finds the word she desperately needed to feel safe again. She looks up at the same time he does, frozen in shock for a moment. 3...2...1....

"Accepted!!" they shout at the same time, turning their letters towards one another- identical, save for the name attached. Taako lifts his hand for a high-five but she just lunges right at him, tackling him down against the bed, giggling wildly, her legs kicking as he laughingly protests. She knows he's full of shit- he's as happy as she is.

Accepted. Accepted. With full fucking scholarship. Their lives were going to change forever. Their lives were going to be amazing.

-if the IPRE letters weren't there. Which. They were. Emblazoned across the wax-sealed envelopes, plain as day. "The Institute of Planer Research and Exploration". One for her, one for Taako. She does not open them, not even her own. She sits down on the bed with them, and she waits quietly, fingers twisting together, stress permeating the whole room.

what if we didn't get in?

what if we fucked it up?

what if one of us got in and the other-

She replays the exam in her mind again, over and over, searching for any errors she could have made that would result in them denying her entry. She hadn't. She couldn't have. And Taako boasted that he'd done it perfectly as well, but he'd have done that anyway, even if he'd bungled it up. He wanted her to get in as much as she wanted him to.

fuck

fuck

we'll have to skip town again, we'll have to start over

This paranoia feeds her thoughts until the door opens and Taako joins her, bitching about work or some other nonsense until he catches sight of her expression, and the envelope in her hands. He freezes. Wordlessly she holds it up to him as he joins her on the bed. Silence lies thick like a blanket between them both, until finally Lup says, "Together, or not at all."

"Together, or not at all," is his echo, and as one they tear open the envelopes and draw out the letters to read the contents within. Lup's eyes scan the text until she finds the word she desperately needed to feel safe again. She looks up at the same time he does, frozen in shock for a moment. 3...2...1....

"Accepted!!" they shout at the same time, turning their letters towards one another- identical, save for the name attached. Taako lifts his hand for a high-five but she just lunges right at him, tackling him down against the bed, giggling wildly, her legs kicking as he laughingly protests. She knows he's full of shit- he's as happy as she is.

Accepted. Accepted. With full fucking scholarship. Their lives were going to change forever. Their lives were going to be amazing.

[It's good liquor, he'll find, should he give it a swig. If he likes vodka it may very well be the best he's ever tasted. Could be the magic, could be the fact that this place is a dream, could just be how Lup imagines it. Tasted or not, the alcohol carries with it a wave of overwhelming emotions: nostalgia, regret, love, family-

-and a memory.]

----------------

She's been dreading this part all day; it's been in the back of her mind all along, though she's done her best to suppress it and let Taako's surprises be her focus. He'd done so, so wonderfully. First that amazing breakfast in bed, then the water fight in the park, then the chance to set that shitty DMV ablaze, and now this: her favourite meal, with her favourite person. She'd never had a single doubt in her mind that he'd fail. He'd given her exactly what she'd asked him for, the best day ever. A perfect memory.

Now she owes him the truth.

"We're gonna become liches."

The words are hard to say aloud, and the reaction he gives in return - the one she knew was coming - is why. She can't blame him, because it is scary, even if she trusts the research they've done, trusts the method and the process and the notes and everything. Trusts the memories that the two of them have given her to protect her sanity. The danger is still very real- liches are dangerous, absurdly powerful. Liches are… monsters, in the technical sense. And if this goes wrong they could put the whole mission in jeopardy, ruin everything they've worked towards for eighty-two years.

It's why this day was so, so important.

"I love him, Taako, with all of my heart, but you… I needed a day from you because you are my heart. You know that, right?"

The ease with which he agrees warms her to the core, and she smiles softly as their hands entwine. Taako's half of who she is, her heart and her soul, and she knows she couldn't have chosen a better anchor. Even if he's scared - even if they both are, at least a little - she trusts in this bond they've carefully cultivated together over the last 200 years. She won't ever lose him. He won't ever lose her.

She accepts the bottle from him and downs the first swig without hesitation, glad to have it; with the stress of having to tell him finally eased, she can relax and enjoy the rest of her night with him. She can give Barry the go-ahead, they can retrieve the whale bone and prepare the ritual. They'll be changed, soon, but they won't be different. And long as she has him, as long as she has her other half, she knows she'll be able to hold on to her soul.

It'll be fine.

----------------

[When the memory ends, the bottle is half-empty. It hadn't lasted long that night.]

[It's good liquor, he'll find, should he give it a swig. If he likes vodka it may very well be the best he's ever tasted. Could be the magic, could be the fact that this place is a dream, could just be how Lup imagines it. Tasted or not, the alcohol carries with it a wave of overwhelming emotions: nostalgia, regret, love, family-

-and a <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_w-_16xgWQs&feature=youtu.be">memory</a>.]

She's been dreading this part all day; it's been in the back of her mind all along, though she's done her best to suppress it and let Taako's surprises be her focus. He'd done so, so wonderfully. First that amazing breakfast in bed, then the water fight in the park, then the chance to set that shitty DMV ablaze, and now this: her favourite meal, with her favourite person. She'd never had a single doubt in her mind that he'd fail. He'd given her exactly what she'd asked him for, the best day ever. A perfect memory.

Now she owes him the truth.

"We're gonna become liches."

The words are hard to say aloud, and the reaction he gives in return - the one she knew was coming - is why. She can't blame him, because it is scary, even if she trusts the research they've done, trusts the method and the process and the notes and everything. Trusts the memories that the two of them have given her to protect her sanity. The danger is still very real- liches are dangerous, absurdly powerful. Liches are… monsters, in the technical sense. And if this goes wrong they could put the whole mission in jeopardy, ruin everything they've worked towards for eighty-two years.

It's why this day was so, so important.

"I love him, Taako, with all of my heart, but you… I needed a day from you because you are my heart. You know that, right?"

The ease with which he agrees warms her to the core, and she smiles softly as their hands entwine. Taako's half of who she is, her heart and her soul, and she knows she couldn't have chosen a better anchor. Even if he's scared - even if they both are, at least a little - she trusts in this bond they've carefully cultivated together over the last 200 years. She won't ever lose him. He won't ever lose her.

She accepts the bottle from him and downs the first swig without hesitation, glad to have it; with the stress of having to tell him finally eased, she can relax and enjoy the rest of her night with him. She can give Barry the go-ahead, they can retrieve the whale bone and prepare the ritual. They'll be changed, soon, but they won't be different. And long as she has him, as long as she has her other half, she knows she'll be able to hold on to her soul.

It'll be fine.

[When the memory ends, the bottle is half-empty. It hadn't lasted long that night.]

Edited 2019-02-15 08:08 (UTC)

[Even as her hand phases through his, he can still feel her presence- it's cold, very cold, like touching ice. Dead things have no warmth to carry.

And with that contact comes thoughts, unbidden and uncensored, like a rush of scattered emotions--

it's been so long

am i going crazy

taako?

don't even remember what i looked like

he can't hear me

back soon, my ass

i'm here!! i'm right here!!

sorry i'm so sorry

what did she do to you

i'm going to fucking kill them

[The icing is nothing exceptional despite how it had looked- sweet sugar and vanilla, a dash of butterscotch. As the taste lingers on [his] tongue, a series of brief but tangible sensations suddenly sweep through, carrying with them visceral emotions of warmth and familiarity--

a gentle, maternal hand brushes through [his] hair

skin pressed to [his] forehead, a friend's breath sharing [his] own

cautious fingers weave through [his], squeezing tightly

the soft lips of a lover on [his] cheek

It's gone as quickly as it came.]

Edited 2019-02-02 03:35 (UTC)

[As soon as his hand touches the parchment, he ought to feel it: a soft rush of warmth and affection spreading outwards from the page, a secret that delights in being shared. It's unmistakable.

It's love.

The sheet music is covered in adjustments and corrections, notes transcribed and erased and re-written, two sets of handwriting peppering the margins, neat printed text alongside a scrawling cursive. The top of the page has half a dozen titles, most of them scratched out, the final one still with a question mark attached, undecided and ultimately irrelevant.

And as his eyes scan the page, the room bleeds into a memory-]

-------------

The sound of scales, rising and falling in tandem, from violin and piano fill the air of the music room, simple and predictable practice. Note, pause, note, pause, note, pause, note, pause, an unspoken agreement obviously made of when to shift and how, until- BRRRRNGHH goes a single piano note out of order, and the violin shrieks to a halt.

"Aw, shit, my bad," a heavyset, middle-aged man in glasses grimaces, lifting his hands into the air and away from the piano as a surrendering gesture. "Sorry, Lup."

Lup drops the violin from her chin to giggle at him, tucking it under her arm. "Were you looking for a key in the next room over, bud?"

"Nah, just- clumsy thumbs, I think." He gives them a wiggle. "Or just nerves. Feels like we've been at this for ages and I still have no idea what I'm doin' here."

She considers him for a moment, taking in the way he fidgets, the obviously nervous lilt in his tone, then she sets down her violin and walks over to him, plopping down onto the bench at his side. "Here." She takes his hands, resting them against the keys, and softly shifts his fingers into position before resting her own on the opposite end of the piano. "You and Magnus both- you love to hit hard, and I get it, but this is art, not fighting. Relax your fingers, be gentle with those ivories. They didn't do squat to deserve the beating you're trying to give 'em. The notes'll come easier and you'll move faster, too."

They work through a fresh set of scales, and he watches her hands move over the keys rather than his own; as they play in tandem, one high and one low, the synchronization is back, same as it had been with the violin, but softer this time. His hands on the keys are gentle, and very soon his posture relaxes, too. The tension between his shoulders ease, the crease of his brow irons out. And Lup? She's... warm. As she moves her hands their arms brush together, and the distance when they move away again is palpable, uncomfortably so. It's difficult to focus on moving from note to note but she pushes through, trying not to linger on these feelings and what they imply. This is still the mission. It's always been the mission.

When they stop she finds him staring at her, a confused and awe-struck gaze that she meets for barely a second or two before dropping her eyes, oddly self-conscious at his scrutiny. "Lup...?"

She moves her hands away from the keys, toying with her hair instead, fixing some unseen out-of-place lock of it as she attempts an explanation. "...There was... this one caravan Taako and I traveled with, for like, half a year- they landed a long gig in some town and decided to set up a whole tavern instead of using the wagons. They ran nightly performances, Taako did his thing in the kitchen, and I tried my hand at bartending and bouncing for a while." She gives the air a few playful mock-jabs- to make it clear that bouncing was the much bigger draw for her. "On quiet nights I spent a lot of time watching the band, mostly the guy on piano. We got talking, and he showed me how."

He opens his mouth, as if to ask something, then stops to reconsider, opting instead with, "Wait, wait, wait. If you already knew the basics, why didn't you pick piano? You'd be ahead of the game here, and if we wanna get the light..."

He trails off as she shakes her head, lip curving upwards. "Gimme your hand." When he holds it up, she presses her palm against his, fingers stretched up towards his own, and her tips barely reach halfway. He's always been a big guy, but his expression is still somewhat surprised when he sees how much his hand dwarfs her own. "You've got piano hands, my dude. Mine are too small, can't really go from one end to the other. Doesn't suit me."

She lets her hand linger against his; suddenly and inexplicably, she's reluctant to move away from that point of contact. He's redfaced and stunned until she snaps out of it and pulls back, at which point he stammers, "Th-that's not true. Elise, that girl always fighting with me over practice times- she's got tiny hands and she plays just fine."

"You noticed her hands? Got your eyes on her, do ya?" she quirks a brow at him, and when he stutters a protest she laughs and leans in, bumping against him playfully. "Relax, I'm just razzing you. I know I could play- it's a convenient excuse." She uses one hand to slowly play another upward scale along the white keys. "I like the violin. The piano's... too big. I wanted something I could take with me, to remember moments like this."

She smiles up at him, and after a moment, his cheeks pink, he tentatively smiles back.

-------------

Months later they stand at the center of a beautiful, ornate white stage, dressed to the nines, he at a grand piano and Lup with her violin. They play a love song, a duet, and every note is perfect and practiced, synchronized as if they'd been doing this their entire lives, as if this is what they were born for. The sound echoes through the valley surrounding their stage and the audience watching is silent, attentive and in awe of the music they've crafted together. When they finish the noise of cheering is practically deafening, and when he takes her hand in his, she very suddenly realizes that she never wants him to let go.

And when he doesn't let go, she realizes that he wants that, too.

-------------

[As the memory fades, the top of the page has a title now, no more scratched out words, no more question marks. Written in the elegant curve, in Elvish, are the words, "Hello, Love" for those who can read the language. The signatures of Barry J. Bluejeans and Lup are beneath it.]

[As soon as his hand touches the parchment, he ought to feel it: a soft rush of warmth and affection spreading outwards from the page, a secret that delights in being shared. It's unmistakable.

It's love.

The sheet music is covered in adjustments and corrections, notes transcribed and erased and re-written, two sets of handwriting peppering the margins, neat printed text alongside a scrawling cursive. The top of the page has half a dozen titles, most of them scratched out, the final one still with a question mark attached, undecided and ultimately irrelevant.

And as his eyes scan the page, the room bleeds into a memory-]

The sound of scales, rising and falling in tandem, from violin and piano fill the air of the music room, simple and predictable practice. Note, pause, note, pause, note, pause, note, pause, an unspoken agreement obviously made of when to shift and how, until- BRRRRNGHH goes a single piano note out of order, and the violin shrieks to a halt.

"Aw, shit, my bad," a heavyset, middle-aged man in glasses grimaces, lifting his hands into the air and away from the piano as a surrendering gesture. "Sorry, Lup."

Lup drops the violin from her chin to giggle at him, tucking it under her arm. "Were you looking for a key in the next room over, bud?"

"Nah, just- clumsy thumbs, I think." He gives them a wiggle. "Or just nerves. Feels like we've been at this for ages and I still have no idea what I'm doin' here."

She considers him for a moment, taking in the way he fidgets, the obviously nervous lilt in his tone, then she sets down her violin and walks over to him, plopping down onto the bench at his side. "Here." She takes his hands, resting them against the keys, and softly shifts his fingers into position before resting her own on the opposite end of the piano. "You and Magnus both- you love to hit hard, and I get it, but this is art, not fighting. Relax your fingers, be gentle with those ivories. They didn't do squat to deserve the beating you're trying to give 'em. The notes'll come easier and you'll move faster, too."

They work through a fresh set of scales, and he watches her hands move over the keys rather than his own; as they play in tandem, one high and one low, the synchronization is back, same as it had been with the violin, but softer this time. His hands on the keys are gentle, and very soon his posture relaxes, too. The tension between his shoulders ease, the crease of his brow irons out. And Lup? She's... warm. As she moves her hands their arms brush together, and the distance when they move away again is palpable, uncomfortably so. It's difficult to focus on moving from note to note but she pushes through, trying not to linger on these feelings and what they imply. This is still the mission. It's always been the mission.

When they stop she finds him staring at her, a confused and awe-struck gaze that she meets for barely a second or two before dropping her eyes, oddly self-conscious at his scrutiny. "Lup...?"

She moves her hands away from the keys, toying with her hair instead, fixing some unseen out-of-place lock of it as she attempts an explanation. "...There was... this one caravan Taako and I traveled with, for like, half a year- they landed a long gig in some town and decided to set up a whole tavern instead of using the wagons. They ran nightly performances, Taako did his thing in the kitchen, and I tried my hand at bartending and bouncing for a while." She gives the air a few playful mock-jabs- to make it clear that bouncing was the much bigger draw for her. "On quiet nights I spent a lot of time watching the band, mostly the guy on piano. We got talking, and he showed me how."

He opens his mouth, as if to ask something, then stops to reconsider, opting instead with, "Wait, wait, wait. If you already knew the basics, why didn't you pick piano? You'd be ahead of the game here, and if we wanna get the light..."

He trails off as she shakes her head, lip curving upwards. "Gimme your hand." When he holds it up, she presses her palm against his, fingers stretched up towards his own, and her tips barely reach halfway. He's always been a big guy, but his expression is still somewhat surprised when he sees how much his hand dwarfs her own. "You've got piano hands, my dude. Mine are too small, can't really go from one end to the other. Doesn't suit me."

She lets her hand linger against his; suddenly and inexplicably, she's reluctant to move away from that point of contact. He's redfaced and stunned until she snaps out of it and pulls back, at which point he stammers, "Th-that's not true. Elise, that girl always fighting with me over practice times- she's got tiny hands and she plays just fine."

"You noticed her hands? Got your eyes on her, do ya?" she quirks a brow at him, and when he stutters a protest she laughs and leans in, bumping against him playfully. "Relax, I'm just razzing you. I know I could play- it's a convenient excuse." She uses one hand to slowly play another upward scale along the white keys. "I like the violin. The piano's... too big. I wanted something I could take with me, to remember moments like this."

She smiles up at him, and after a moment, his cheeks pink, he tentatively smiles back.

Months later they stand at the center of a beautiful, ornate white stage, dressed to the nines, he at a grand piano and Lup with her violin. They play a love song, a duet, and every note is perfect and practiced, synchronized as if they'd been doing this their entire lives, as if this is what they were born for. The sound echoes through the valley surrounding their stage and the audience watching is silent, attentive and in awe of the music they've crafted together. When they finish the noise of cheering is practically deafening, and when he takes her hand in his, she very suddenly realizes that she never wants him to let go.

And when he doesn't let go, she realizes that he wants that, too.

[As the memory fades, the top of the page has a title now, no more scratched out words, no more question marks. Written in the elegant curve, in Elvish, are the words, "Hello, Love" for those who can read the language. The signatures of Barry J. Bluejeans and Lup are beneath it.]

Edited 2019-02-25 02:29 (UTC)

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gold & blue liquid

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red robe

grey goose

touching lich lup

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