ɴᴇʀɪᴀ sᴜʀᴀɴᴀ (
unabatedly) wrote in
synopsychic2015-05-23 12:25 pm
Entry tags:
voice; (open + optional action)
I suppose introductions would be best, first.
My name is Neria Surana, one of the 'veteran' Travelers here. I understand we've had several new arrivals in the midst of one of our escapades, and for that, I do offer my sympathies. This is not a common occurance, I assure you, though I'm certain that is of little condolence to you.
[Her voice is calm and gentle, though there is some underlying strength there that hints at authority. It's hard to shake what she once was, even if she would never seek such a thing among their number. Cautious, she tries to give information without inflection, afraid her frustration and distress will show through if she divulges too much.]
We have had a very difficult Jaunt. I'm stating the obvious. But those of us who have been here the past few...months [what is time in these places] have gone through enough trouble and disaster, I think. And it's high time we have a talk about it. Specifically...what we go through during these excursions.
[Neria pauses, gathers herself.]
Many times, we take on roles these Trumps have given us. We believe we have lived in these worlds we visit for our entire lives, carry memories of people and faces and entire identities that are not our own. And these have been used, time and time again, to twist us into doing things we might not do otherwise. We are actors in a play to the Trumps and little else. [Her voice grows in anger.] But make no mistake: we are not at fault for this. The decisions we make are not our own; the things we do, no matter how terrible, are not ones we would willingly consent to. Though you may have done something, listen to me now when I say it is not your fault. You are not what they have made you to be.
Unfortunately, that does not mean that we can forget what's been done to us and to others.
[And there lies the problem. It's easy to forgive friends, but harder to reconcile when that person hurt you or destroyed some part of you, possibly even killed you.]
We've been going strong these past several months. But what happened in Harrogate, what happened on the Grid... We need to talk about it. You might think it better to hide it, stuff it all away, but we don't have that luxury. We are allies, if not friends, and we have to look out for one another. If we don't trust each other, if we harbor resentment, then we will start to fail these tasks the Trumps have given us. And while you might think that a grand idea, trust me when I say you don't want that. But even worse, if we don't trust each other, we could disappear. [She sighs.] Many, many Jaunts ago - and some of us may remember - we weren't able to find a solution. But we couldn't leave, either. We stagnated as a group, did little to help each other. There was-- [No, she realizes she doesn't want to talk about it, actually.] We came down to a vote: give up or keep going. Most of us chose the former. And when we came to Liminal Space, those people didn't come with us.
We don't know what happens when people vanish. They might go home, they might not. I'm not willing to take that chance. I propose we discuss what's happened, air our grievances, come to terms with it, and move on. I think we all deserve that much, don't you?
[ooc: basically, FREE FOR ALL DISCUSSION but also doubling as an armchair support group counseling session. anyone who's willing to discuss their stuff privately and not on an open network can also see Neria on the log.]
My name is Neria Surana, one of the 'veteran' Travelers here. I understand we've had several new arrivals in the midst of one of our escapades, and for that, I do offer my sympathies. This is not a common occurance, I assure you, though I'm certain that is of little condolence to you.
[Her voice is calm and gentle, though there is some underlying strength there that hints at authority. It's hard to shake what she once was, even if she would never seek such a thing among their number. Cautious, she tries to give information without inflection, afraid her frustration and distress will show through if she divulges too much.]
We have had a very difficult Jaunt. I'm stating the obvious. But those of us who have been here the past few...months [what is time in these places] have gone through enough trouble and disaster, I think. And it's high time we have a talk about it. Specifically...what we go through during these excursions.
[Neria pauses, gathers herself.]
Many times, we take on roles these Trumps have given us. We believe we have lived in these worlds we visit for our entire lives, carry memories of people and faces and entire identities that are not our own. And these have been used, time and time again, to twist us into doing things we might not do otherwise. We are actors in a play to the Trumps and little else. [Her voice grows in anger.] But make no mistake: we are not at fault for this. The decisions we make are not our own; the things we do, no matter how terrible, are not ones we would willingly consent to. Though you may have done something, listen to me now when I say it is not your fault. You are not what they have made you to be.
Unfortunately, that does not mean that we can forget what's been done to us and to others.
[And there lies the problem. It's easy to forgive friends, but harder to reconcile when that person hurt you or destroyed some part of you, possibly even killed you.]
We've been going strong these past several months. But what happened in Harrogate, what happened on the Grid... We need to talk about it. You might think it better to hide it, stuff it all away, but we don't have that luxury. We are allies, if not friends, and we have to look out for one another. If we don't trust each other, if we harbor resentment, then we will start to fail these tasks the Trumps have given us. And while you might think that a grand idea, trust me when I say you don't want that. But even worse, if we don't trust each other, we could disappear. [She sighs.] Many, many Jaunts ago - and some of us may remember - we weren't able to find a solution. But we couldn't leave, either. We stagnated as a group, did little to help each other. There was-- [No, she realizes she doesn't want to talk about it, actually.] We came down to a vote: give up or keep going. Most of us chose the former. And when we came to Liminal Space, those people didn't come with us.
We don't know what happens when people vanish. They might go home, they might not. I'm not willing to take that chance. I propose we discuss what's happened, air our grievances, come to terms with it, and move on. I think we all deserve that much, don't you?
[ooc: basically, FREE FOR ALL DISCUSSION but also doubling as an armchair support group counseling session. anyone who's willing to discuss their stuff privately and not on an open network can also see Neria on the log.]

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But if anyone's got any questions, then I suppose I be here to answer them. It seems like every world has lazy ne'er-do-wells, so this boy's almost never been someone you wouldn't recognize. Brooklyn, the Shoal, Harrogate - I don't go under much.
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My knowledge of these events is still...incomplete. I do not wish to press those that have been through harrowing experiences to speak of them if they do not wish to, but I have been trained to recognize minute details that may lead to larger clues. If any are willing to recount their experiences, I would be most grateful to be allowed to listen.
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[At least, if he can judge based on everyone else's sleeping patterns.]
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Thank you, Neria, it's good to hear your voice again.
[ Belljar was Ambrose's first jaunt and while he didn't fully understand the context of what was happening he certainly grasped the repercussions. the attrition following the nightmare of Boston was similar but... Belljar still rankled. ]
If anyone would like somewhere a little more private to talk, or a refuge from the noise and the... everything, I can make a psychic landscape folks can relax in. It's basically virtual reality, though, so... make sure you're somewhere comfortable before coming through the door.
[ and indeed a door constructed of stained glass squares with a few clear bullseye panes appears on the network. if a Traveler imagines themselves passing through they suddenly appear... elsewhere. ]
Mindpalace
The suggestion of daylight comes to life under two suns in a pale blue sky, the smell of earth and herbs and tomato plants and… other, more urban smells and sounds. Traffic, voices, music, other residential rooftops nearby giving way to a taller skyline near the city’s core with signs of new construction and renovation everywhere. There are architecture styles from a dozen Earth cultures: tiled, curved eaves, half-timber frame and stucco facades sharing space with arts nouveau and deco frontages, and scattered everywhere the traditional Ozian domed roof.
It's early summer in Central City, and Ambrose's rooftop garden is just coming into full bloom. There's comfortable seating around a simple tiered fountain, and more under a canopied pergola. Ambrose himself sits out in the light of the suns, at ease even though clearly a little sad. Still, all who enter receive a smile and a wave in greeting.
"Hello! Welcome, make yourself at home."
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[She frowns briefly.]
Even though some of those events might be painful for you to hear?
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[There's a pause where she tries to find better words to express how she feels. She comes up empty.]
Though I would not wish this frustration and pain on anyone, I am glad to have you with us, Leonardo, selfish though it may be of me.
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But that is of less import than the need to piece the clues together so that we are forearmed in whatever battles await us ahead, be they physical or more sinister.
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[Weeks? Milicycles? Ugh, she hates that she's been gone so long that she doesn't even know the answer to that.]
That would be very kind of you. I know some people might not feel so comfortable speaking freely about all of this...but I do feel it's necessary. We've made so many mistakes in the past by not being honest with one another.
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I would tell you what I can, though I cannot promise any of my tales to end very well. I do not remember anything before Moebius, I'm afraid, and so even my stories might be severely lacking. There are not enough of us who can recall before that time.
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All knowledge is worth having.
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[ while he'd spent cycles on the waste, or back in Harvest training with the rest of his bundle, or through the sakua-haze to a lifetime of misty moors and a restless gale coming in off the North Sea. ]
It's all I can do to offer but... if I can see you, in person, I'd appreciate that too.
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Is there something you need to talk about, cherie?
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[OPEN on the network]
Richard B. Riddick. I'm another old-timer, not sure how long, one of the trips a while back kinda fucked up what we remember before it. But if anybody feels like botherin' me with questions, I'm around. If you'd rather ask those questions in person, I'm down in the jail cells.
Just try not to get too squeamish about it.
[Everyone appreciate how much effort it takes to get someone like Riddick to offer help to strangers, okay. But he has a lingering goodie-goodie in his head with major protective instincts. It just kind of happened.]
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... and I am glad to be here, too. I only wish I could be of more help to you all.
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I would meet with you in person and share what I know, if it pleases you.
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Why would you think so little of your efforts?
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[She does not want so many to know of the pain she's gone through back home, her fears and desires, and how each one has twisted her.]
You are always welcome to find me. I would appreciate your company.
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He-- Maker, Sansa. I had seen him when he returned briefly but I didn't realize... I'm so sorry.
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[Herself included, obviously.]
Are you all right, at least?
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Because my efforts are so little. I can only offer what I know so that those of you who are better equipped to solve these Jaunts may do so. I am no fighter. I am a meager strategist. I require protection. I am not even the wisest here.
... I can only hope to be useful to you all, in the end, and that you will not feel as if you are dragging me along, as it were.
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I don't understand what happens when we leave. But for Robb... He went home. He went home, and they killed him.
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[Her laugh is quiet, bitter.]
There's nothing in particular I'd like to talk about or need to. [Deflect, deflect.] With the exception of what we're finally learning about our overlords.
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[As frustrating as it is.]
I've never felt like I needed to drag you.
[But let's change subjects...]
How has your practice been going? Your magic?
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I could tell you a few things, maybe. From when we split up, just after the rescue.
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[He's not exactly a shining example himself.]
Things got a little rough this Jaunt, but I will be.
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[His mental voice cheers a little at the next part.]
I still remember the healing spells you taught me, and I believe I know all of the glyphs, now. I still practice when I can, though thankfully the healing spells have not been needed so far.