Stellarum Salve [closed]

[starlightcalliope]

Once again it is quiet and lonely in the void of the Furthest Ring. Some time ago - inasmuch as time can be said to be a thing that exists here - Calliope had suddenly found herself in a very strange dream bubble. It had been quite frightening, but also nice, so nice, to not be alone for a while, and of course it was over far too quickly, leaving her to stew by herself in the dark once more.

Despite the brief respite from her miserable lot that the dream had granted her, she is soon overwhelmed by loneliness and despondency again, curled up at the center of her protective vortex and wondering how she is supposed to make a difference to all of Paradox Space. Being dead means irrelevancy, after all, and she has already been killed by her brother once before - quite rightfully, the more she thinks about it. So how can she hope to find the courage to leave her hidden sanctuary and go in search of the secret weapon of legend, capable of defeating the invincible reality-rending monster her brother has become? Hope is in rather short supply out here, she muses gloomily.

Just then, as though to prove her wrong, something changes. Calliope stares up in speechless shock as a pair of majestic wings appears in mid-air, getting larger and brighter and quite mesmerizing and then she feels like she's tumbling, the wings guiding her. It's a short tumble, at the end of which she finds herself sitting on smooth stone, looking up at the back of a winged human statue. There is water sprinkling down in front of her-- water? And trees?? And humans!!! With an undignified squeak, Calliope more falls than scrambles down the edge of the oddly round body of water and cowers at the foot of it.

What is this place? There are so many humans she doesn't know, and this really doesn't feel like a dream bubble at all, and she feels slightly cold... just about anywhere would be cold to someone who grew up beneath a massive red supergiant, but she's never felt much of anything in the void or in dreams. This is all too much to take in and so is quickly eclipsed by her usual paramount concern - not causing a panic among the humans with her monstrous appearance. Which is going to be rather difficult, as the round structure isn't hiding her well at all, and oh she's quite sure she couldn't bear it if they all started running away screaming. Too scared to care that this doesn't seem to be a dream, she squeezes her eyes shut and desperately wills herself to look more acceptable, imagines with all her might her trollsona's soft grey skin, pretty face and lovely curled orange horns. But for all her imagining, she's still too afraid to open her eyes again.

Comments

[whofrownedthisface]

Well that sure did happen a lot. And why is everyone looking at him now? Normally that's exactly what he's trying to achieve, but Callie's emotional rollercoaster of a lecture is hard to take in and even harder to respond to meaningfully, and he'd just as soon be passed over in the face of that. Iman, for her part, isn't offering any visual guidance either, she mostly looks floored and expectant. He feels unexpectedly betrayed. Isn't the other adult in the room automatically assumed to take responsibility for any emotional occurrences he doesn't understand?

And of course he can't voice his actual response. Universes creating new universes out of the genetic makeup of heroes. Rubbish! The game assigns the roles, and obliterates everyone else. Nonsense. Well, it probably isn't, in her universe. But it's definitely total bunk here. And as dejected as she seems at being reminded of that fact, it really sounds like a good thing that that's the case. Still, it looks like not saying any of that out loud is the right choice. His opinion, as much as he'd like to voice it, isn't really relevant to her past life. And it is certainly past. With impressive restraint, he remarks, "That sounds fascinatingly bizarre, though I still don't understand what exactly makes you call it a game. But I'm not a master whatever. I'm not...helping create any universes." Creating universes in the image of a Time Lord, let's just not and say we did. What would it mean to be the opposite of the most passive category? The most meddlesome, obviously. It's a bit ironic actually, paired with the policy of non-interference. But if you disregard the majority of Time Lords (and you should) it's a much less ironic and more apt designation. Whether Rassilon or the Doctor is being used for the archetype. That's unfortunate. Perhaps thinking of all the ways Callie's system doesn't work with his reality was a bad idea.

Mental digressions aside, he once again has no idea how to handle Callie's emotional state. If it were him, being alive and not part of some kind of apocalypse/universe breeding program would be the optimal outcome, the very most optimal. But she clearly feels that she is missing out, and pointing out exactly what it is she's missing out on, as fortunate as it seems to him, would probably be a misstep. "I think there's probably plenty of exploring and self-actualising to do here, without that. If at any point in my incredibly long life I'd been given a role, I would have rejected it outright. And I've done fine."

[starlightcalliope]

It is quite a relief to see that the Doctor doesn't seem to take offense to what little information she has on the Lord class. Especially since he has already shared with her some of his own dissatisfaction with his species, and she would hate to add to it. Maybe, if she's lucky, it hasn't even occurred to him that she has involuntarily made some unsavory associations between him and her brother. She would prefer to keep it that way, and to quit being unreasonable, while she's at it.

"I do not doubt that someone as knowledgeable and courageous as you would have no trouble finding their way without the assistance of knowing their role," she ventures kindly. "And someone who is not meant to enter a session may not require it at all. But the role isn't externally imposed, it encompasses what you were always intrinsically going to be. Rejecting it would be like rejecting your very own self. Besides, it is such fun to analyse a character in these terms!" she adds towards Iman, attempting to be a little more cheerful. The nice lady has thankfully taken on a much less looming height again, and it seems to her that they are both trying to be encouraging in their own ways. She wouldn't want that to go to waste.

"I do look forward to exploring this place. I'm sure it is going to be terrific," she reassures them. Though there are probably no expository quests to be had here, and no universe-propagating purpose, according to the Doctor. Nor will she be able to meet all her friends, and her brother is still a horrible threat. She's putting on a brave face, but her nervous fiddling with her cufflinks betrays her dejection. Better to point the conversation elsewhere, so she asks Iman, "Would you like to have a class and aspect? I'd be delighted to offer my services in helping you work them out."

[etherthief]

Well, the Doctor's small contribution is right on the money, though Iman suspects he's having an even harder time swallowing all this than she is. Good for him keeping a lid on it. She turns back to Callie, smiling at her reassurances. She's trying to work out something to say about all this, though she feels herself gravitating toward platitudes about how Callie is the master of her fate or some bullshit - this much personal and worldly freedom must be a hell of a culture shock for someone who has straight-up game mechanics built into her life story - but then Callie heads her off with that perplexing but adorable question.

Iman feels herself smiling, more genuinely than she usually does. Goddamn this cute friggin space kid.

"Um - yeah, sure!" she says, because how are you even going to say no to that. "What are the, um, what are the options?"