IC Voicemail, Driftfleet:

[tothefly]

[There is no recording, just a few clicks and a beep.]

[Leave any IC voice messages or texts for Natasha here.]

Comments

[tothefly]

[If there is a flash or two, it's nothing unusual. Not like Natasha has never seen another woman's underwear before. Besides, these floors are a bitch to wax. Lack of shoes is a necessity.

Natasha nods, moves towards the window, having a seat and setting the glasses up, pouring a small measure of clear liquid into each one.]

I'll try to hold off on the emotional hugging and inspirational orchestral music.

[It isn't sarcastic, exactly, just a little wry. She hadn't come into this with expectations, not really. No more than she'd had when she first responded.]

[experiencepoints]

... That was a joke, right?

[She sounds... genuinely unsure. It's really hard to tell sometimes.

Also, now that her shoes are off, Natasha can easily see a nasty scar over her left knee- it's definitely a bullet wound right through the kneecap, and judging from the scar on the other side, it went all the way through. So, that's nice. And on top of that, it's much easier to see now that she's kind of unhealthily thin.]

I'm not sure what I'm supposed to be doing here, though.

[tothefly]

It was. Sorry.

[She seems uncertain, fragile, not much at all like the Nightingale Natasha's talked to before. This place takes a different kind of toll on everyone, though. So she just gestures to the glass in front of her, taking her own in one hand with a slight shrug.]

Drinking. Maybe talking. It's whatever you need it to be.

[She's always been good at being what people need.]

[experiencepoints]

[She sighs, pouring the drinks.]

I have no idea what I need it to be. I was kind of hoping you had an idea, since you seemed confident about that in that post.

[No point in pretending now.]

... But drinking and talking sounds nice.

[tothefly]

This kind of thing should be a conversation, not an interrogation.

[She doesn't much see the point in anonymous public posts, at this date. But people cope how they have to.]

You could tell me about where you're from. The people you spent time with there. Whatever comes to mind.

[experiencepoints]

[She takes a deep breath, looking at her drink but not drinking from it yet.]

... My home world? Or my last interdimensional shithole?

[tothefly]

[Natasha takes a sip of her own (decent vodka, or a close enough substitute--some things you never quite leave behind), shrugging again.]

Why not start with home? It's what you were missing earlier, right?

[experiencepoints]

...

[She takes a slow drink, and then a deep breath. She might be stalling, honestly, but soon she manages to talk.]

I was born and raised in Delwight, the capital of Ashvara. It's... a big city. Skyscrapers, big light signs, probably the strongest wards ever discovered around the city to keep the monsters out.

... People keep telling me my world is a video game. We have things called save points- If you get killed, you resurrect there, a little weaker but not really any worse off. We have magic, I think I've shown you that. Monsters roam outside the city.

We... I keep forgetting it's not normal to other worlds, but we have more people than just humans. Elves- They look like humans, but with long pointy ears, and much better vision. Beast Tribe, people with various animalistic features. And merfolk, amphibious people who live in the ocean.

To be honest, I was always kind of a shut-in. Or... I guess, I was forced to be one.

[tothefly]

[A video game sounds about right, with save points and magic and elves and mermaids. But then, she's met people from all kinds of worlds here, and doubting this would hardly get her anywhere. So she lets Nightingale build her world, nodding when appropriate, and waits until she's done to ask the next leading question.]

Why were you forced?

[experiencepoints]

... It sounds pathetic when I say it.

[This time, she just turns the glass up, intending to drain it all in one go before she continues.]

My parents are adventurers. My mother is an archmage, as far as I know one of the youngest to ever make that. My father's a Steelwall... Think a knight. Heavy armor, giant shields. Incredibly strong defense. His job is to protect the other fighters so they can attack properly.

That job pays really well, and they have other jobs on top of it. My mother helps maintain and strengthen the wards around the city, and my father takes jobs culling any monsters that get too close to the city. We were rich, to be blunt. Well-respected, upper-class. Attended social high-class parties, tried to make networks with other snobs, the works. My teammate back at the castle saw some of my memories... She thought I was a damn princess.

[She actually gives a dry laugh at that.]

But, that's beside the point. They were generally amazing people. They could do anything they put their mind to. I don't know if they've ever struggled with anything. They're probably some of the strongest people in the world, without exaggeration. They never made mistakes, and they never failed at anything. Anything they ever did was done perfectly, without any flaws or mistakes.

[She's taking a short pause to refill her glass, so if Natasha has anything to say, now's the time to say it.]

[tothefly]

[Natasha's perfectly fine taking her time with her own drink. Nightingale's the one who needs help getting through this. And apparently, 'this' is more than just being in the fleet itself. Talented, high-ranking parents. It's not a new story, regardless of the actual content, the application of magic.]

I'm guessing there were certain expectations of their firstborn. Only child?

[She does seem like the type.]

[experiencepoints]

Yeah. Only child.

They wanted a perfect little trophy child. Smart, pretty, talented at everything, polite and charming, everything. Someone they could use to hold themselves up higher, by having a child just as good as they were. They got me.

Anything or anyone not perfect is worthless, as far as they're concerned. And they made sure I knew that.

I graduated high school in second place, out of thousands of students. That made me a disappointment.

[tothefly]

Parents can be difficult. Parents with expectations are worse. It must have been a lot of pressure on you.

[Natasha never really had parents of her own. Her birth parents died when she was very young, and her surrogate father was only just that. Once she began training, there was no such thing as a parent. There was just the cause. Her instructors were the closest she got. But she understands the pressure to be perfect. Maybe even better than Nightingale. After all, there was always the threat of death if she got anything wrong.]

Were you disappointed?

[experiencepoints]

... It was just another step in a long chain of failure.

Eventually, I just shut down. Lost the ability to feel things, entirely. Dropped out of college, knocked my parents out and ran away from home, started freeloading off of my best friend. Started sleeping with her, not sure if it was using her to try to feel again, or trying to pay her back with the only thing I could. It seems like once they were out of my life, I had started to recover somewhat.

And then the world ended.

[tothefly]

[It's not a New story. Privileged girl with privileged life meets expectations set too high, loses way, ends up in a self-destructive spiral. Only the ending really piques her curiosity, something new, and it shows by the spark in her eye.]

When you say ended...

[experiencepoints]

Ended. Destroyed. Annihilated. Unmade. There used to be a planet there, and now there isn't. But that can wait.

... Are you disappointed?

[she manages a bitter, lopsided grin.]

You seemed to think I was interesting, but it turns out, I'm just another cliche story. Rich girl couldn't handle her life, flunks out of everything, so she turns into a drunken waste of space, a worthless person from start to finish. Bet you've heard it a million times before.

[tothefly]

[The look on her face changes subtly, her focus entirely directed at Nightingale, not her story. Not the girl she was, the one she is now. There's something just a little alien in Natasha's eyes as she studies her companion, something cool and assessing.]

What do you want me to tell you?

[experiencepoints]

That there's more alcohol.

[She isn't sure she knows how to want anything else anymore. Anything else she wants, she'll never get, after all.]

[tothefly]

[Natasha doesn't blink, only pours another small amount in both glasses. She's quiet a moment longer, but before Nightingale starts up again, she speaks, voice measured.]

I could tell you you're the most special of snowflakes, and that no one has ever truly suffered as you have, and I could make you believe it. I could tell you yes, that story makes you horrible, and that I'm disgusted by you, and I think I could make you believe that without even trying, since that seems to be what you think you deserve.

Truth is, there's no such thing as a unique backstory, not really. Not for any of us. It's all the same. We're born, we live, we second-guess, we hurt ourselves and we hurt other people. We're alone, except when we're not, and then we die. Doesn't matter what world you're from. The story isn't what makes someone interesting.

[experiencepoints]

[She moves her glass back and forth, but doesn't drink yet, instead just taking in Natasha's words.]

... You're not wrong, about what I deserve. That must be why I'm here.

[tothefly]

What you think you deserve?

[The correction is small, but important, gently emphasized.]

We aren't here to be measured for our actions. I don't know exactly what we are here for yet, but I can tell you that.

[experiencepoints]

I wonder? All I wanted for a long time was to just... Not be alive anymore. Not that that was possible. But then it happened, and now that I'm dead, all that's changed is that I'm alone. Everyone who liked being alive is gone, and I'm the only one left. It feels like a punishment.

[tothefly]

Leaving aside our current existential quandary--since I'm not entirely convinced this still isn't some massive virtual prison, and you're sure you're dead--why do you think it isn't any better? What could change to make you happy?

[experiencepoints]

... Seeing Yura again.

[tothefly]

Was Yura one of the friends you left, back before you left your world? Or...before it was destroyed, I'm still not clear on that.