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Entry tags:
iii; voice + text
voice;
[ he sounds as excited as might be expected from someone whose lost their entire team, flat and empty and utterly beyond caring about anything else anymore. But this deserved a little more than empty text. ]
I did my best. It wasn't enough. This might not bring any consolation, but she made me promise that I --
[ silence, again for awhile. ]
Do with it what you will. It seems pointless now, but it's what she would have... done.
[ and it cuts.
After the message, the follow is sent as an attachment, left wide open to the network: ]
FIELD REPORT of LORD PROTECTOR, CORVO ATTANO.
Detailing the events of the last recon mission under the command of Lydia Shepard. Done to the best of his knowledge and recollection.
ASSIGNED TO: FIRETEAM AGINCOURT under the command of COMMANDER SHEPARD.
TEAM: Lydia Shepard, Javik, Corvo Attano. Comms: Darcy Williams.
I was previously stationed in FIRETEAM PERUIGA under the command of CAPTAIN HOOK. Commander Shepard's first team was compromised of Shepard, Javik and Connor. Their original communication aid was Rebecca Crane. As of the culmination of events, none of the original team remain on board, Rebecca was gone with the jump between the first recon mission, and Connor it seems, has left with the jump as well.
Additionally, one of my previous team members has not made it through the jump either: Stefan Salvator.
FIRST DAY: Mission briefing was held in the medical bay. Equipment and rations were given out, protocols were discussed. It was the hope that the previous missions mapping equipment would still be accurate and allow some ease of navigation. The goal was to find additional areas for habitation, as was the previous mission.
AGINCOURT departed from Engineering, as they had last month, previously I went into the level 15 Passengers Quarters. The area I entered was not familiar to me to know it well to see if there were changes immediately apparent. But the communications from Shepard and Javik revealed that all the mapping done before this had now become inaccurate.
Four or five hours after departing, the sensations of the previous mission begun again. Though there was no indication as to why, it began to feel as if we walked down on a steady decline, and the feeling once more of being watched, though it begun later. The difference was at first its almost immediate start where it had taken longer, previously.
I would say this was when the feeling of being called, began, for myself. I was unsure if it begun for Shepard or Javik, they said nothing of it. I said nothing of it, as to a certain extent, I am used to hearing one manner of spirit speak to me, both previously, and in hallucinations brought about on board, though I have taken measures against the latter since joining the tranquility. What called to me was a woman I knew to be dead, but the other members of my team seemed to hear nothing of her. From my observations of Shepard and Javik, I can only speculate that they heard their own ghosts calling to them.
SECOND DAY: The inconsistency in the mapping continued, corridors began to repeat themselves. Ones that were on the maps were no longer there, or there were too many corridors when there seemed to be none marked.
Time by this point begun to mean little, an abstract concept, and stretched into weeks in there. The blackness seemed to grow, seep in from all sides. Void like, as my only point of reference. I am not sure when on this day, but shapes began to appear in the dark.
At first the shapes were no more than wisps, curls of light, and of warmth. They still called, echoed in your mind. They only grew warmer when they came closer.
THIRD DAY: All previous mentioned activities only increased. Mapping was useless, the dark only seemed to grow. The figures were no long brief bursts of light. They began to take form, their voices only grew clearer. They were the only comfort to be found in the dark. During this period, though I could not say exactly when, we received other communications from the other teams.
FOURTH DAY: What transpired on this day happened so quickly I struggle with all the details of it.
Shepard and I rested, whilst Javik stood on watch. Shepard appeared to sleep but not deeply. At the end of her rest, she called out to one she knew as "Anderson". It was then I had confirmation that it was not just myself that was hearing the calling voices.
I asked her to wait a moment, for me. This would be the last time we truly spoke.
When we continued, as it had before, painting began to reveal itself on the wall. Not the paintings of the previous mission, but it seemed as if they were mistakes left, until we found hand prints, similar to bloody hand prints of a corpse. We walked longer, to see where it led. During this, I heard the same voice I had heard before, but no longer only on the edge of dreams, now it was clearly, obviously speaking to me. The other two did not hear her, when I asked if they had.
It was during this, Shepard asked me to call in our hourly report. Only to find that the comms had now completely shut down, with no signal as to how or when it happened. As I paused to do so, Shepard, it seemed, saw something. I did not see it long enough, only that it had the shape of a man, one that Shepard and Javik knew.
She immediately went after it, quickly in fact. Javik followed. It happened within seconds. They moved fast, faster than I accounted for. I went to take after them, but they turned a corner as I moved to catch up with them. I could hear them running, I could hear Shepard, saying she'd... she'd found something. I thought I would come upon them at any minute -- but the corridor I turned onto was empty. I would say perhaps, it happened on purpose.
The last I saw of Commander Shepard and Javik, was the back of their heads, as they ran into the dark.
I don't know how long I spent walking, alone. I must have screamed myself hoarse, calling their names, calling anyone's name. I began to systematically open doors, searching, but I only found more corridors. More empty rooms. More darkness. Sometimes, there were other paintings, just of the same interlocking hands.
The next thing I remember, was waking up with the woman who had been calling to me, clawing at my skin, in a place that is almost my home, and Lady Galadriel and Robb Stark were the ones that found me. I do not know what state I was in, perhaps they know more. We left quickly.
Since the jump, I have found parts of my memory returning. So far, it has been no more than brief bursts, that I can no more tell apart from any of my other memories. Given the damage to my mind presumably done by the being known as Morgoth, as well as the side effects done by own "magics" I am hesitant to trust them until I am sure of them all precisely.
This is all the information I can provide at present.
END REPORT.
[ MESSAGE SENT TO ALL RECON MEMBERS, LOCKED. ]
Forgive my silence, and my absence, when you were mourning their passing. I did not trust myself in the company of others.
I'm not going to bother to give you any other words about it all, everything I know, everything I saw, is there. Other than that, we know what we saw out there, and I doubt I am alone in my lack of want to ever go back. But I gave Shepard my word, that should anything happen to her I would see that this mission would go it's full course. My word is my bond.
I have no want or care to command, or any desire to return, but I will follow this through with all of you, and see to your health and care as much as I am able. If you ask or if there is something you worry to speak of, I will not take the information outside of ourselves if you do not wish me too, and if I must, your name will be forgotten. If for some reason, you do not wish to talk over the network, feel free to arrange with me somewhere else, I can understand the distrust after all that occurred. But I would stress every bring forward what they know, what they saw. Anything, even if it seemed minor.
For any Captains, if you have written reports similar, I would like them, for I know more than one person is seeking to gather as much information about what happened as can be. To your team members as well: if you noticed anything, anything at all about understanding what might have happened to us, I'd ask you share it between us all.
my regards,
Corvo.
[ ooc: threadjacking and conversation making is all a-okay, non-recon people are welcome as well. ]
[ he sounds as excited as might be expected from someone whose lost their entire team, flat and empty and utterly beyond caring about anything else anymore. But this deserved a little more than empty text. ]
I did my best. It wasn't enough. This might not bring any consolation, but she made me promise that I --
[ silence, again for awhile. ]
Do with it what you will. It seems pointless now, but it's what she would have... done.
[ and it cuts.
After the message, the follow is sent as an attachment, left wide open to the network: ]
FIELD REPORT of LORD PROTECTOR, CORVO ATTANO.
Detailing the events of the last recon mission under the command of Lydia Shepard. Done to the best of his knowledge and recollection.
ASSIGNED TO: FIRETEAM AGINCOURT under the command of COMMANDER SHEPARD.
TEAM: Lydia Shepard, Javik, Corvo Attano. Comms: Darcy Williams.
I was previously stationed in FIRETEAM PERUIGA under the command of CAPTAIN HOOK. Commander Shepard's first team was compromised of Shepard, Javik and Connor. Their original communication aid was Rebecca Crane. As of the culmination of events, none of the original team remain on board, Rebecca was gone with the jump between the first recon mission, and Connor it seems, has left with the jump as well.
Additionally, one of my previous team members has not made it through the jump either: Stefan Salvator.
FIRST DAY: Mission briefing was held in the medical bay. Equipment and rations were given out, protocols were discussed. It was the hope that the previous missions mapping equipment would still be accurate and allow some ease of navigation. The goal was to find additional areas for habitation, as was the previous mission.
AGINCOURT departed from Engineering, as they had last month, previously I went into the level 15 Passengers Quarters. The area I entered was not familiar to me to know it well to see if there were changes immediately apparent. But the communications from Shepard and Javik revealed that all the mapping done before this had now become inaccurate.
Four or five hours after departing, the sensations of the previous mission begun again. Though there was no indication as to why, it began to feel as if we walked down on a steady decline, and the feeling once more of being watched, though it begun later. The difference was at first its almost immediate start where it had taken longer, previously.
I would say this was when the feeling of being called, began, for myself. I was unsure if it begun for Shepard or Javik, they said nothing of it. I said nothing of it, as to a certain extent, I am used to hearing one manner of spirit speak to me, both previously, and in hallucinations brought about on board, though I have taken measures against the latter since joining the tranquility. What called to me was a woman I knew to be dead, but the other members of my team seemed to hear nothing of her. From my observations of Shepard and Javik, I can only speculate that they heard their own ghosts calling to them.
SECOND DAY: The inconsistency in the mapping continued, corridors began to repeat themselves. Ones that were on the maps were no longer there, or there were too many corridors when there seemed to be none marked.
Time by this point begun to mean little, an abstract concept, and stretched into weeks in there. The blackness seemed to grow, seep in from all sides. Void like, as my only point of reference. I am not sure when on this day, but shapes began to appear in the dark.
At first the shapes were no more than wisps, curls of light, and of warmth. They still called, echoed in your mind. They only grew warmer when they came closer.
THIRD DAY: All previous mentioned activities only increased. Mapping was useless, the dark only seemed to grow. The figures were no long brief bursts of light. They began to take form, their voices only grew clearer. They were the only comfort to be found in the dark. During this period, though I could not say exactly when, we received other communications from the other teams.
FOURTH DAY: What transpired on this day happened so quickly I struggle with all the details of it.
Shepard and I rested, whilst Javik stood on watch. Shepard appeared to sleep but not deeply. At the end of her rest, she called out to one she knew as "Anderson". It was then I had confirmation that it was not just myself that was hearing the calling voices.
I asked her to wait a moment, for me. This would be the last time we truly spoke.
When we continued, as it had before, painting began to reveal itself on the wall. Not the paintings of the previous mission, but it seemed as if they were mistakes left, until we found hand prints, similar to bloody hand prints of a corpse. We walked longer, to see where it led. During this, I heard the same voice I had heard before, but no longer only on the edge of dreams, now it was clearly, obviously speaking to me. The other two did not hear her, when I asked if they had.
It was during this, Shepard asked me to call in our hourly report. Only to find that the comms had now completely shut down, with no signal as to how or when it happened. As I paused to do so, Shepard, it seemed, saw something. I did not see it long enough, only that it had the shape of a man, one that Shepard and Javik knew.
She immediately went after it, quickly in fact. Javik followed. It happened within seconds. They moved fast, faster than I accounted for. I went to take after them, but they turned a corner as I moved to catch up with them. I could hear them running, I could hear Shepard, saying she'd... she'd found something. I thought I would come upon them at any minute -- but the corridor I turned onto was empty. I would say perhaps, it happened on purpose.
The last I saw of Commander Shepard and Javik, was the back of their heads, as they ran into the dark.
I don't know how long I spent walking, alone. I must have screamed myself hoarse, calling their names, calling anyone's name. I began to systematically open doors, searching, but I only found more corridors. More empty rooms. More darkness. Sometimes, there were other paintings, just of the same interlocking hands.
The next thing I remember, was waking up with the woman who had been calling to me, clawing at my skin, in a place that is almost my home, and Lady Galadriel and Robb Stark were the ones that found me. I do not know what state I was in, perhaps they know more. We left quickly.
Since the jump, I have found parts of my memory returning. So far, it has been no more than brief bursts, that I can no more tell apart from any of my other memories. Given the damage to my mind presumably done by the being known as Morgoth, as well as the side effects done by own "magics" I am hesitant to trust them until I am sure of them all precisely.
This is all the information I can provide at present.
END REPORT.
[ MESSAGE SENT TO ALL RECON MEMBERS, LOCKED. ]
Forgive my silence, and my absence, when you were mourning their passing. I did not trust myself in the company of others.
I'm not going to bother to give you any other words about it all, everything I know, everything I saw, is there. Other than that, we know what we saw out there, and I doubt I am alone in my lack of want to ever go back. But I gave Shepard my word, that should anything happen to her I would see that this mission would go it's full course. My word is my bond.
I have no want or care to command, or any desire to return, but I will follow this through with all of you, and see to your health and care as much as I am able. If you ask or if there is something you worry to speak of, I will not take the information outside of ourselves if you do not wish me too, and if I must, your name will be forgotten. If for some reason, you do not wish to talk over the network, feel free to arrange with me somewhere else, I can understand the distrust after all that occurred. But I would stress every bring forward what they know, what they saw. Anything, even if it seemed minor.
For any Captains, if you have written reports similar, I would like them, for I know more than one person is seeking to gather as much information about what happened as can be. To your team members as well: if you noticed anything, anything at all about understanding what might have happened to us, I'd ask you share it between us all.
my regards,
Corvo.
[ ooc: threadjacking and conversation making is all a-okay, non-recon people are welcome as well. ]
video;
eventually, she closes her eyes against the brightness of tears in them, and says quietly: ]
I am here, Corvo. [ but it sounds precisely as she means it to: i am here, father. ]
voice;
May I visit you?
voice;
Of course.
voice → action;
I'll be there soon.
[ and he is, where ever she is, he's there quietly waiting to be acknowledged. ]
action;
it hasn't worked. and when he appears in the doorway, she lets out a quiet sob and runs to him, arms flying about to encircle and hug him fiercely. ]
I am here. [ she repeats, and squeezes him gently. ] And I love you.
action;
Instead he clutched her close, pressing his face into her hair. The grip was bruising tight, arms around her waist, his breath shuddering and deep, as he tried to find some kind of stability to cling to. Sanity, was a slippery thing. Frayed on the edges, like the river that ate at the city he knew as home. ]
action;
whether few or many, she will do a daughter's duty and pick up the pieces. it is something she had thought she would never be able to do again for a father. and while not biologically her relation, she does love him. it runs deep, more so every day.
she clings to him, silently accepting the bruising hug, no matter how much it hurts. there is no part of her that can separate herself from him when he needs her. ]
action;
He can't kill here. There is nothing to fight. There is no lords to murder in their beds, no ladies to slaughter in the midst of their parties, and his dreams are nothing but drowning. In the rats, in the dead. A thousand fingers to claw as they wept blood. He begs the man with black eyes that not again, not again, not again.
But he wakes, and it is still the same. He only dreams of dead things. But Elizabeth is warm, alive. She is bones and blood and the soft breath he could feel on his shoulder. Painfully, carefully, alive. He savored that fact like dying men did water. If nothing else, it cleaned the taste of blood from your mouth, when death came anyway. ]
action;
he had done it to save her, and though she realizes it not, she might even love him for it. but the image of it haunts her all the same. they are, the pair of them, attempting to exorcise their respective demons from clawing at their souls by anchoring themselves to each other as they are.
her breath is shaky and delicate, while she fights the urge to weep. instead, she lifts a hand to gently comb comfortingly through his hair, and she can finally find it in her to say -- or rather sing something. a soft song from her childhood, translated into his native tongue. she can only hope that in her, he might find a safe harbour. and the tiniest shred of solace. ]
action;
But he does not let her go. The quiet song is enough. It's safe, sure, and it felt strange. He'd been so utterly alone the last time. He almost does not know how to grieve as any other would. Left alone in the dark with nothing the smell of her blood before.
Maybe that was why in the end he had hid himself away, but now, he felt calmer than he had since he'd first heard Shepard's last message, though it would fix nothing. For that alone, he held tight, until the song ended as every song must, and his head lifted. Staring at her tiredly, so utterly and completely lost. ]
action;
not a word is spoken, because there are none to be said. none which would help, or change anything. it is, oddly enough now that she thinks of it, much like the manner in which richard had held her immediately following the death of her father. all silence and warmth and the impression of a safe harbour.
she wishes to be his, because she cares about him deeply. and she'd like to think that if the shoe were on the other foot, that he would do the same. ]
action;
It hardly mattered, now.
But when time and time again passed, he drew away, his hands falling back to his sides with a long breath. Better in some ways, worse in others, and he stared at her like something hunted. ]
I'll take my leave. [ Because they had not parted on the best of terms, and he would not linger more than he had to. ]
action;
no. fathers are difficult. such is in their nature insomuch as it is for daughters, as well. she is no picnic, and luckily for them both, she has the grace to acknowledge that to herself. family do not get on perfectly all the time. unlike with her mother, whom she has always been upon rocky terrain with, she and corvo tend to stand on comparatively much more level ground.
and even if they did not, she would never allow it to keep herself from rejoicing in his safe return. elizabeth does not even think; she surges forward, entrapping him with her arms, which wrap tightly about him once more. she shakes her head against his chest, exhaling shakily. )
Do not leave me. Forgive my earlier harshness, please.
action;
I missed you.
[ it's muttered, and it feels like one of the few things he's said in hours, days maybe, that felt true. ]
action;
( she calls him this now, because she needs to hear it just as much as he does. in this, she has made a choice and knows that nothing they have will neither overshadow, nor be diminished by her bond with her natural father.
her arms brace about him tightly, tugging him closer so that she can resume hugging him fiercely. )
No matter what happens, never doubt that I care for you. That is.. part of being a family.
action;
So he says nothing, he accepts, warm quiet breath on her shoulder and desperately clutching at the material of dress like she might be stability itself for him to hold too.
He cannot think of anything else, in the end. ]
action;
she buries her face in the folds of his shirt, and exhales deeply, peacefully. she is utterly relaxed now, grounded into the floor as though to act as a rock or column for him to lean upon.
no matter their differences, she does love him. she cannot help that which caused their disagreement in the first place: because cesare also provides a sense of stability for her, albeit of a much different kind. but this is not about cesare, or bad blood, or even her natural father. it is about her and about corvo. that is all. plain and simple.
and she will remain here with him as long as he has need of her. )
action;
When he's calmer, he does draw back a little more. His fingers finding hers and lacing them together. Slow, deep breaths that are a little more like calculation. ]
We should... [ he tries, to think of something to say, but he's empty of direction. He was a man made to serve, carved to purpose and he was once again without it, listless as a child. He blinks at her, like he means to say more, but nothing comes of it. He stands there holding her hand, all of the emptiness too clear on his face, in his movements.
( he was a hollow man ) ]
action;
( stepping back, she glances quietly from their joined hands to his face, her own a mask of concern rather than her typical cheer. )