meadowlarklogs | EVENT #008 AFTERMATH LOG

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EVENT #008 AFTERMATH LOG

WHO: The Displaced!
WHERE: Lots of places—potentially? Mostly New Amsterdam as the focus.
WHEN: March 4, 2512
WHAT: Unlocking of the gates and the game's fast travel network.
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Uninvited visions.

> EVENT #008 AFTERMATH LOG

The vision itself is almost instantaneous once the last of the four gates activates, hitting the Displaced no matter where they are. It doesn't matter where that individual Displaced is: if they're in New Amsterdam, at one of the gates, or sleeping, they'll see the same vision. A flash of seven colors (red, blue, black, gold, orange, red, and white) followed by an image of a nomadic people heading up a long, stone bridge that appears to be naturally occurring. At the end of the bridge is an open, lit-up triangle that acts as a gateway, inviting them inside. Then there is another flash, followed by the nomads walking through the gate and ending up in a different, new location. And then another.

Any understanding of this vision isn't immediate. The answers won't be apparent until later, when there is an innate understanding of what they've learned and what they've unlocked for themselves. The world has opened up to the Displaced, and in some ways, it's there for them to access and even take for themselves if they so choose.

After the vision ends, any of the Displaced located at the four ruins will immediately begin to glow in all blue before they fade out of view and find themselves crammed into a new location. The relocation is immediate, and if anyone checks a map via their neural implant to see where they are geolocation wise, they'll be able to tell that they're underneath New Amsterdam. For anyone who's been in the underground cave system of New Amsterdam, they may think their surroundings are familiar, if not the same. After all, this area has been locked away for a very long time.

One more thing is apparent: they've landed on another form of gate that needs to be unlocked. After the numerous trials and puzzles the Displaced have faced, what's one more?

◉ The puzzle to solve is right beneath the feet of the Displaced on a bronze-colored mechanism. At the center of the mechanism are multiple overlapping triangles, and on the outside, there are five separated triangles that sit individually.

◉ Solving the puzzle involves connecting a daisychain of Displaced and having five key focal points step on the triangles at once.

◉ Once the puzzle unlocks, there will be another understanding: that what they saw in the vision belongs to them. Any of the Displaced outside of the caves will know what it means.

◉ With that work done, it's time to explore. The underground cave system of New Amsterdam is half-inhabited by the sprawling megacity, and half-uninhabited and untouched. This part of the cave system was locked away for centuries, and just like the other ruins, there are some relics and lost items from the past. The eras vary: some are early medieval burial sites with items like brittle, forgotten swords and shields, while others are crosses and manuscripts that refer to this location as the center of the Holy Roman Empire.

◉ The manuscripts are a mix of imagery from Catholicism and the same, omnipresent geometric imagery.

◉ The way out of the cave system involves touching a hand to a handprint alongside what appears to be a door. This print will only appear to the Displaced, so they will be able to move in and away from this location largely unobserved.

> ON THE JOB FROM 9 TO 5

Now that the gates trip is done and the Displaced have new answers—if potentially unhelpful ones, depending on their perspective—it's time to return to their lives. Surprisingly, New Amsterdam has no festivals going on, as if it's time to now be hungover from a February that involved nonstop partying. The city has been cleaned up and everyone's returning to their jobs as if the city around them is not in a constant state of revelry.

◉ Ah, it's time to return to work! No one is required to lose their jobs, but it might take a bit of groveling for the Displaced to return to where they were working before. (With the exception of the Red Wings bar. Poor Mister Doctor Stephen Strange.) El will have sent along any excuses to any bosses who might need an explanation. Ze's used to this gig by now.

◉ What about those cities left behind? No one planned on abandoning those gates at that exact moment. They will remain open to the Displaced. Anyone who had a hotel room in New Oslo or even kept stuff stored at New Beijing will find that they can just teleport back via this new fast travel system.

◉ Though for anyone who's been dealing with tampered food, maybe it's time to go take a break. You know where's a good place to do it? The Displaced-run Red Wings bar. Ah, poor Mister Doctor Strange, at least the people coming in out of nowhere are all Displaced looking for proper food and a drink. It's time to mingle, share notes, and see what's what. Might as well get to seeing where there's overlap—and what to do next.

◉ Or it's time to explore! The world is finally open and available to one and all. Well, to one Displaced and all.

◉ The information on these gates and what they do won't immediately be available to El and Gaby. It's up to the Displaced if they decide to share with their NPC friends. (Of course, if it's mentioned via the Morningstar network, then they'll know!)

> FINAL OOC NOTES

This is meant primarily as a laid back, return to life log for the Displaced after their exciting trips around the world (and trips-to-be, most likely). Any questions about the aftermath should be directed to our aftermath questions thread!

Our CR meme will be posted on February 14th (Happy Valentine's Day!), and our arrival log for all newbies will be going up on February 15th.

Thanks again for making this a great event!

> NAVIGATION

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[People like them don't exaggerate. If he says they were torn to pieces, Ginia believes it without questioning. She sits there, listens. Flinches when he says "I know you didn't have that" but Ginia can't pretend it's wrong either. They've laid out the differences between their groups before.

Ephemera had a family. Loved them deeply, said they were good people. He talked about Barrows's cooking, and he's seen the paintings of two of them on the wall. A sister who still smiled so warm and bright even with telling scars. A brother who had his back and had an air of respect around him. The kind of person you listened to. With what he's assumed about her, Ginia imagines they were a tight knit group. The kind that lived and traveled and fought together.

That wasn't her reality. It was never going to be that no matter how hard she clung and cried and bled and wanted things to matter. No matter how much she wanted to matter.

Didn't she tell him earlier she envied how he knew what to do? That he had a plan, a goal? Now she knows it and the words feel like ash. Her anger burns away as she sits there, stares at him as he smiles. There's a look in his eye, something a little wild, something delicate, something broken.

He's the last one left. He's going back home to kill the people responsible for ruining his life.

Ginia can't pretend she doesn't understand the need for revenge. Sometimes she remembers dreams about returning to the compound. Killing everyone there responsible for making her and her team. The nanotechnicians, the guards, the trainers, paint the concrete red and then smash it all down. Sometimes she wonders what she'd do if she ran into one of the trainers at a bar. Maybe he walks in for a drink with his buddies and Ginia checks his ID at the door. Maybe she goes to the club to dance with friends Ginia's watching the crowd.

But what good would it do? What good does revenge really do? Ginia knows how it feels good in the moment, but can breed anger, retaliation, more deaths. And when she sometimes really lets herself think on it, Ginia knows so many people have the right to hunt her down. There's a personal death count in the high hundreds. Thousands if she includes a culminate team count. Millions, in term of global impact. Ginia knows the lives she's ruined, the survivors left behind. Someone in that number has to want her dead too, right?

There's always someone meaner. Always someone better.

Ginia doesn't cast judgment on why Ephemera's family was killed. Not her place. Doesn't matter really. She tips her head toward the ceiling of the cave system and exhales. Counts the seconds away as she empties her lungs entirely. A few more seconds on the inhale. She moves fast; he knows this. Ginia moves fast and catches Ephemera in a tight hug. A hand around his shoulder, one on the back of his head.

Don't go, cries her fear as she clings to him, chests glowing bright from the contact. Don't go, don't do it. Because he'll go and she'll never see him again and loneliness is a terrifying prospect after having a connection with someone.

Ephemera will go, and she'll never see him again, and he'll probably die because she's seen him fight. Knows the disregard for his body. Has felt his sorrow and emptiness as keen as her own. When rage burns out and the job is done, and loss is all you have...

I understand, purrs her anger. Because if someone takes something from you, the only thing to do is to make them regret it. Never mind if you have to break the world, why should people get away with breaking yours?

You fucking idiot, sighs her sorrow because she's been there before. Knows the cycles and how it never ends and it's all hopeless and exhausting and there's no escaping it.

And at the very bottom of her feelings, a tiny unidentifiable feeling, so easy to miss or ignore, whispers, You have me now. Doesn't that count for something?]

[ He doesn't see it coming. That's the point he'll return to later, when the dust has settled. That he was too caught up in his own head to see her move and when his head finally made the connection, she was already in too close. One arm around his shoulder and a hand at the back of his head, pinning him tight. And he flinches. Stupidly, he flinches.

It shouldn't matter. She already hugged him back in the desert. They held hands in the aftermath, reaching out willingly to activate the empathy bond and paint the walls blue. But it had been more than that, too. More than just necessity. There had been trust, the sort of connection Ephemera had thought he had left behind. He let himself forget what it felt like. Fell into the battlefield patterns. Everyone is an enemy and every enemy wants to destroy you.

Do not let them, soldier. Finish your mission. Finish your fucking mission.

Their chests glow blue right through their clothes and Ephemera shudders all over. He feels too much. She understands and she knows and she wants, and he is so, so tired. The anger is comforting, a focus point in a universe that makes too much sense, and so he treasures it like a friend. But he can't be angry all the time, not in a way that matters, and it's those quiet moments that kill him. Because he starts talking to people and he'll come to know them if he's not careful. And he does know her, now.

Not in all ways. Not like his sisters. But it's been so very long since he's had a friend that his first impulse is to reach up and run a hand through her hair. To offer whatever comfort he can because Angela seems so very alone and she deserves something better. A chance to live her life, to find her people. Everyone should have that at least once.

He thinks of her origami, strangely. The precision of the angles. The sound it makes when she folds a crease. Clean, exact. And yet she still comes away with a picture at the end. A symbol, something tangible, that can be held in hand. He called her a SPARTAN when they first met and intended it as a taunt, a warning. I know what you are.

Funny, that. They know too much about each other now.

He shivers all over. Stands rigidly for too long, expecting pain. Her grip is solid, her hands strong, but she doesn't snap his neck. Doesn't slip a knife into his throat. Just holds him, one hand in his hair, brushing the edge of his scars, and the other arm tight around his shoulder.

Breathe, little brother.

Slowly, very slowly, he leans forward and bumps their heads together.

This cannot last. He knows how it's going to end. But, selfishly, he's glad they had a chance to met. That they could stand together for a little while. He thought he was done with that. Not enough of a person left in him to try. But here they are, here they stand, and there's a part of him that wishes it could last. He reaches up and touches her hair, lightly.

It won't last. But it's nice, for a moment. ]

[It's very intimate. Foreheads touching, hands in hair, breathing mingling. Unconsciously, her breathing falls in line with his, or maybe it's the other way around. They breathe, their feelings exchange back and forth. Ginia sags against him a bit, tears filling her eyes. Her feelings are selfish, ultimately. She wants him to stay, to not rush on toward his mission because she likes him, likes having a friend.

But didn't Ephemera say there were people he liked at the fight clubs? People he was getting along with? He's made an impression on other people too. He's spoken fondly of Eugene, even got a pie from him. Knew Trevor enough to know he was a vampire hunter, and maybe going to him was pragmatic, but he still reached out.

Is this what your family wants? is what Ginia wants to ask, but she can't bring herself to form the thought into words. Not right now. Because maybe it was what they want. To be avenged.]

Don't be so eager to die.

[The message appears in his field of vision. Ginia doesn't try to move away, doesn't want to move away. She smiles as she sends the message, a tired huff escaping. It's a smile out of reflex, the kind to defuse a tense situation. Her smiles are her armor more than metal ever was.]

Don't be like me and waste your life.

[Selfish. She's so selfish. But they are so similar in some ways. In understandable ways that matter in ways that can't be explained. Maybe she's projecting too much onto him. Maybe she's reading too much. But it also feels like the man who had redemption inked into his chest has a better chance at reaching it. Maybe it's easier trying to save him than herself.]

[ Ephemera breathes. Closes his good eye and lets the moment spiral. It feels good to hold another person, to hear them breathing, and that's why it's dangerous. Because for a moment he does want to stay. To fall into the promise of this place, to go out to dinner with Angela and make her smile, to spar with Trevor, maybe even take Gene up on his offer to go dancing. He wants to stand next to these people and know them, and not care if they know him in turn.

Breathe. Remember what you are. ]

You haven't wasted your life.

[ It's said softly. His voice is hoarse from all the laughter he's swallowed down and he's tired in the aftermath, sucked down and flattened from the impact of it. All the things that Angela is feeling, all the knots in his head. Ephemera exhales slowly. Her hair is thick, softer than he'd expected. And he thinks of the sketch he did of her before the latest shit went down, the one tucked into the notebook Gene made for him. How he'd drawn her looking away, into the distance. Focused on something on the horizon, beyond the page. Maybe that was telling. ]

It's okay. You don't need to worry.

[ She'll make it out. Part of him needs her to make it out. But he's got his mission, and that makes it simple. Or at least it's meant to. ]

Thank you. My friend.

[Oh. But she has wasted her life. So much of her life wasn't lived at all. It was existing through a tortuous hell day in and day out. Even after she found the courage to run, to try to claim some freedom and a life of her own.

for a moment, it seemed possible. Ginia remembers the moment so well. Running through the vast wilderness with the maybe-real-maybe-imaginary bray of dogs and a search party behind her. Taking a moment to look up, to really look up and despite all her training, she stopped and stared at a pitch black sky illuminated by stars. So many fucking stars. So many more than she could, so many more than the tiny dots of the ceiling panels in her room that were her lifeline as much as her condemnation.

It was the first time she felt alive, the first time she knew she could make a decision for herself, she could go where she wanted. She was alive and free and...

Ginia laughs. Dry, raw, a rough hiss of sandpaper fading into a shuddering sigh. Oh no. She was so ignorant of the world. Of how to live in it. Maybe she's not even doing any better here.

Her hand slides from the back of his head to rest on his cheek. On the right side, her rough palm and fingers resting against his cheek.]

Don't tell me not to worry. It doesn't work that way. You're the only friend I have. I'm going to worry.

[Her feelings flare briefly in frustration, in worry, in fear because every conversation feels closer to a goodbye. Her thumb slides over his cheekbone. She pauses, exhales.

Then Ginia leans in and kisses the corner of his mouth right where the scars and burns cut in deep ridges. A light kiss, lingering for a second, long enough to sigh again.]

[ There's a moment where he leans into it. Feels the calluses on her palm. That closeness. She could kill him easily like this, but won't. Then she leans in closer and —

Ephemera takes a sharp breath, shuddering all over. No one touches his scars. He doesn't let them, he doesn't do that. He cannot. And it hurts, suddenly. The proximity. The fact that he let it happen in the first place, that he let himself become the sort of person who would lean into a touch, who would reach out and embrace another person. He thinks of his sisters, dead in their armor. Blood on the ground, iron in the air. Thinks of CT, who handed out one final mission before he went off to the desert and died alone, no brother to watch his back. Ephemera knows he failed CT, that he cannot possibly make up the debt.

But he can avenge his brothers, his sisters. He can do that much. There's nothing else left, nothing else —

He pulls back. Puts his hands on Angela's shoulders and keeps them there, his head bowed. The words don't come and he's shivering still, shaking all over. He really ought to jerk away. Establish distance, break the moment, do something.

You are the only friend I have.

He breathes out. Squeezes her shoulder with his left hand. Not hard. Just enough to feel, to know that he's still in the moment with her. And then he lifts his head up, and takes a step back. One, then another. ]

Why...?

[ His signs are rough, his head full of knots. He shakes his head. Wonders if he should have kissed her back. If he should have shoved her away the moment she got close. And it nags at him, those questions, because he doesn't know. He doesn't know and he wants to reach out and touch her hand again, pull her close, and he cannot.

He cannot. ]

[ She's always been causal in contact. With hugs, with light touches, friendly kisses. But Ginia knows her upbringing was not normal, that she's so deeply broken and is still learning the ways normal people act.

Ephemera breathes in, shudders, pulls away. Not entirely; hands on her shoulders even as he holds her at arm's length. Ah. That was the wrong impulse to pursue. Later, Ginia will reflect on the moment as folly, or a moment of selfishness. In the moment, she can't justify it entirely outside of the impulse. It felt right. Felt needed.
Ginia goes still as he shivers. Still and at attention, forgetting to breathe again as she waits and waits and waits and -

He pulls away. Backs away.

Why? A good question. She's certainly attracted to him, but that doesn't have anything to do with it. Maybe someone else would feel a stirring of emotion. A greater feeling of fondness or attraction or something. But Ginia feels empty and sad and tired and can't answer. Not satisfactorily.

Ginia smiles, shakes her head, and turns to pick up her backpack. She's said too much. Revealed too much. Now he knows more about her. She'll have to live with that.

A part of her wants to leave. She takes a step away. And another. Stops and stares ahead and wants to keep going, but Ginia can't bring herself. She turns around and snaps until she has Ephemera's attention, the sound too sharp and too loud in the cave.]

I'm sorry.

[ This used to be easier, he thinks. Dealing with people. Knowing how to move around them, how to act, how to speak. The right words to make make his sisters laugh, or how to put a hand on a brother's shoulder and offer comfort. A connection. It used to be easy with his family, a connection forged over years through deep trust and a love that he's never known with anyone else. But even with people outside the squad, it wasn't hard. Figuring out how to talk to people, how to stand around them.

Things are different now. He's out of practice, floundering more often than not.

Ephemera tips his head back when she snaps to get his attention. Breathes out. More than anything he's tired. It's hit him all at once, though there's no call for it. Wasn't even a difficult mission, on balance.

I'm sorry, she signs.

Ephemera shakes his head. Pushes a hand through his hair, trying to think of the right words to explain. Because he ought to explain, right? ]

It's hard for me to touch people.

[ His signing is a bit more hesitant than before. Uneasy, even though this isn't a secret. She might have even guessed the reasons. ]

So I didn't. For a long time.

[He's said as much before, partially. Ginia remembers saying she wouldn't touch him, and well, look at what that promise was worth.]

You don't need to explain things.

[Ginia isn't sure if that's the right thing to say. It feels dismissive and it's not what she wants to do right now. Her hands wring together, trying to piece it all together. She's so exhausted, ready to pass out for a few days. Might even, if she's lucky.]

I overstepped. I shouldn't have put you in that position. I'm sorry.

[Closer, maybe. It still feels off, though everything feels like a mess. Maybe it'll make more sense after rest, after a chance to decompress.]

Let's go back to the apartment. We could use rest.

[ Ephemera exhales again. He wants to say it's fine, he just get caught on things sometimes, except that's not quite right. Because it was fine earlier. In the ruins, after they both fought down the rage poison, and later, when they held hands and lit the room up in blue. They're both tired, stepping around fraught emotion. Old memories blending back into the present. That's the trouble with the empathy bond, really. It gives away too much. ]

Yeah. Okay.

[ He hesitates. He's not up for going out to a restaurant, but — ]

We can order some food. If you want.

Food could be good.

[It honestly feels like she'll pass out mid-bite, but food that definitely won't set off any rage-inducing side effects is welcome. It's a way to ease back into the normal. As if any of their life is normal.]

We could throw on a movie or something too.

[But it could be normal, or at least they could pretend a little bit longer. Go through the motions and worry later where they really stand with each other. Figure out the details. Or not. They've gotten this far on piecemeal information, still built up a connection despite everything. Maybe it's okay to keep going like that.

Ginia checks the time. It'll still be light out when they leave, but maybe they have a bit of a walk back anyway. They're smart, know how to stay out of sight. They'll make it work. She tilts her head toward where they came from. Now to figure out where the exit is.]

I bet there's a place that does noodles for takeout. I could go for stir-fry noodles and dumplings.

[ Okay. That's better. Ephemera gives her a hesitant smile. Everything feels strange right now, either muted or entirely too sharp, and he recognizes the emotional rawness of a deep drop. Because it really is over now, the madness of earlier, and something must give.

It'd be good to eat some decent food. Something more than granola bars, anyway. ]

I've been told I have awful taste in movies. Noodles and dumplings sound about right, though.

I'm thinking an action film. Explosions, car chases, dramatic gun fights in improbable locations, cheesy one-liners everyone quotes endlessly.

[Something a little mindless, maybe even for background noise more than anything. Right now, it's an easy topic to seize on, something lighter than everything else they've talked about.]

What are you into?

[ He huffs at that. ]

Pretty much that.

[ The more ridiculous the better. Explosions that don't make sense, dramatic gunfights, everyone sexy and covered in artful grime. Too far removed from reality to ever pass for the real thing. ]

Yeah. I haven't watched dumb movies in a while. We should do that.

[ Crash on the couch. Sleep it off and come back sane in the morning. ]

[Ginia pulls up a list of action movies from one of the streaming sites she uses, skimming over the selections. It's an interesting thing with action movies, finding ones that don't hit a bit too close.]

Looks like some of our current options include shapeshifting ice monsters on a research vessel trapped in the Arctic, giant robot ants destroying cities, and cyberninjas traveling through time to stop rogue time assassins from changing history.

[There's a pause as she looks over the description for the last movie again.]

Actually, I might want to watch the last one when I have more energy. How about dino assassins fighting giant robots on Mars?

[ Ephemera huffs, covering his mouth to hide his smile. Then he just shakes his head and grins as he signs. ]

Dino assassins it is. This I have to see.

[Ginia shares the info page of the movie with Ephemera. Apparently it's based off some old novel series about a reptilian air force pilot that spun into some low budget movies that became a cult classic, were eventually reboot with a more budget, and has since spiraled into its own franchise.

Essentially, the perfect candidate for some mindless, over-the-top ridiculous actions.

For kicks, she sends over the other movies too.]

We could make movies a regular thing. Invite some people over, have some food and drinks.

[Like normal people do. Trying to reach out and connect with others, even if its over bad movies.]

[ He parses through the info, shaking his head a little. It sounds perfect, if he's being honest. Too removed from reality to ever catch on a memory and the sort of ridiculous that begs to be laughed at. And it's good to laugh with other people, to share food and company and just be.

Movie night. Why not? ]

We could try that.

[ See how it goes. Something light, in the face of all this other shit. Ephemera nods slowly. ]

It'd be good. Something to break the tension.

We could start small. One or two other people.

[They already have some mutual acquaintances: Dr. Caroline, Gene, even Trevor. It could be nice. Could be worth it.

Ginia really doesn't want to get hung up on things, but her mind keeps spiraling back to an earlier part of their conversation.

You want to know any of them? Actually know them?

Is there anyone in her life she truly knows? You can spend seventeen years in hell surrounded by others and not know anything, but that's because none of them had a chance to really be anyone.

Maybe Ty. Ty is straight-forward, honest. Great with kids and their parents, Ginia figures it's part of being a pediatrician. But Ty's easy to talk with. Likeable.

Cecelia's a good boss and watches out for her people, but Ginia is pretty sure they aren't friends. That's a partnership, and who really knows Cecelia? She's a mystery of her own making.

A handful of other people she knows about their likes and dislikes. Personal information. Been invited to parties or outings. Strangely, a few keep inviting her even after she's turned down previous offers.]

I never learned how to make friends growing up. I was always the quiet one.

[There's a self-deprecating smile with her joke. But it's true enough. Wasn't space to make friends in the compound. She can't remember any of her life before.]

I guess that didn't change as an adult.

[ He nods, mulling it over. Gene might go for it. Trevor, too, once they explain what a movie is. But then she signs again, offering up more. Ephemera runs a hand through his hair, considering that. Might be a peace offering. She's giving him something instead of clamming up.

Both of them have their secrets, their reasons. But here they are. ]

It took me a while. I was always good at talking to people, but knowing how to say things that mattered, that was harder.

[ He huffs a little, shaking his head. ]

I didn't have many friends when I was younger. I got along with people just fine, but none of them stuck around.

[ That surprises people more often than not. But there's a difference between getting along with people and actually knowing them. ]

You can be quiet and make friends.

[ They met, didn't they? ]

[Ginia understands better than most how one can get along with people but not have lasting friends. For a different reason, but it doesn't strike her as unusual in any way. Ephemera strikes her as the kind of person good at keeping things light and conversation going when he's in the mood for it, but could just as easily disappear after.

Maybe it says something they clicked. Maybe it's all the similarities they have, but it's maybe more than that too.

She's quiet again, mulling on his words as they work through the cave system. Listening for any sounds above or ahead, following where air blows through a little more. Caves follow a natural logic and flow. They can be modified, but they aren't built like the maze in the pyramid were.

Her hands twitch and shift, grasping and letting go of signs. There are a lot of questions she wants to ask, but they all veer too close to a truth she's not ready to broach.]

What changed for you? You seem to be making friends just fine here.

[ That's a question with a telling answer. Ephemera is exhales, mulling it over in his head. Trying to find the right words. In the end he sticks with the simple answer. ]

I found my squad.

[ His family. ]

I don't know. It was different with them. Easier.

[ It's signed carefully, a little slower than before. They're on the edge of a pain-point, though it hasn't come over yet. And he suppose he owes her the truth, at least in a small way. ]

[That's the big difference between them, their squads. Their families. Ginia doesn't know if she can really call the other eight her family. But who else will ever know her better in the world? Who else will understand what she's been through?

Maybe no one, and that scares her. Maybe you only ever get one shot at a family and she had her chance.

Her team is still alive, but they're as good as lost. He's right things were different. The loss is still felt.

Her hand drifts toward his. Stops before reaching his hand and moves to squeeze his arm instead. It's all she can offer.]

[ This time he doesn't flinch. He sees it coming and he makes the decision not to jerk away. He thinks of Hunter and the others, and how it had felt to know they were at his side. Protecting him, laughing with him. Always there until one day, suddenly, they weren't.

Breathe, little brother.

He breathes. ]

I'll tell you about them. Not tonight.

[ It hurts too much tonight. Ephemera shakes his head. Tries to smile for her. ]

You would have liked them. They were — they were good. And I loved them.

[It's not a promise she'll necessarily hold to him, but Ginia would like to know more about his family. The people he loved.]

Whenever you want to.

[His choice. It can't be anything but.

Ginia sighs, wrestling with her words, with the reality. It's not a matter of balance, but to some degree, it feels like she should do the same. If nothing else, so someone can remember them as she does.]

I'll tell you about my team. One day.

[Not tonight. Too raw.]

We weren't good people. I don't know if you'd like them. But I still love them.

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