deercountry | Echoes of Ages Past [closed]

Entry tags:

gaia: maruah

Echoes of Ages Past [closed]

Who: Gaia, Duty (Pyrrha)
What: Meditation, Conversation at Sanctuary. Gaia struggles to handle emotions surrounding her lack of control powers.
When: Early-Mid November
Where: Sanctuary Courtyard

Content Warnings: Loss of Control, possible warp of reality into alarming shapes.

Should Duty still be aiding the efforts of Haven, he'd no doubt have caught wind of Gaia's latest troubles. She gets her work done and at least this time whatever time spells she's using are holding as they should be (even if their use has moved on from preserving blood for the special mortar by this time). But another Darkblood power has gone on the fritz- the power to change reality itself- and while she certainly puts on a brave face, it certainly has been taking its toll.

Gaia can be found in a quiet corner of Sanctuary's courtyard, eyes closed and features relaxed after a session of purification. She would have to admit learning meditation has helped sort the confusion of memories. What is hers, what were D's or others she picked up months ago with the unfortunate onslaught of psychometry. And she's even found ways to benefit from the skills they hold while not completely losing herself to them.

But it's only effective as a stop-gap to her current issues. Before, Gaia had been frustrated but determined to find work-arounds to her time spells' working with varying degrees of strength and success. This latest problem had triggered a primal fear sewn so deep into her subconscious that even the utter lack of memories had not seemed to lessen it. Gaia has her suspicions of why, but there's little she can do about it but endure the emotions.

For the time being, meditation or the attempt to focus on it does bring some calm back if nothing else. And with calm could come control.

Right?

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As always, Duty keeps an eye on everyone working at Outpost Haven during the day. The construction crew is first and foremost. Some days they don't go to the outpost at all. However, even the guards and others are watched. They're all family in a way.

After some personal meditation and his corruption levels being lowered once more, Duty finds Gaia in the courtyard. He's meditated one on one before, even slept, during these times. It's a common enough tendency, even when company is one of the means to reduce corruption. So Duty sits, humming slightly, nearby. A presence readily known and felt without immediately demanding her attention.

Once it feels like the right moment, Duty says, "Good evening, Gaia. How are you?"

Such a simple question, but from Duty, he looks at her intently. It's not about the canned answer, what everyone's used to saying when asked. He truly wants to know how she is.

Duty is at least polite enough to wait for her. His manners have always been patient and gave her time and space. She appreciates that and... well, it does make her more inclined to be open with him.

Though there's a little scowl and grimace as she comes out of meditation. Her focus isn't what it normally would be and patient and unobtrusive as Duty was, being aware someone was near her eventually broke her focus. From the ground, some foliage- petals? leaves?- erupt into ephemeral wisps that seem to be trying to be butterflies.

Before they get too far, they lose even that much cohesion, tendrils of energy that thin and dissipate into the environment.

"Oh blast! I didn't mean to do that." Gaia expresses before looking at Duty. Then she sighs.

"Well I've been better," she admits. She draws her legs up and wraps her arms around her knees. "But if it isn't one thing, it's another. I'll be happy when this moon's over."

Gaia knows the next month doesn't promise to be any better. But it probably won't be an attack on her ability to shape reality. Probably.

Duty observes the creation that falls apart before he can fully identify them. So far as unintentional creation goes, that isn't particularly dangerous. "Reality has been folding and unfolding all month," Duty says, "Not only Darkbloods but the Tower."

It's not a personal failing on her part. If anything, it's a symptom of a greater disease. Where darkbloods suffer with the Tower, Coldbloods, perhaps, with their propensity for singing help alleviate his suffering. It's a kind interpretation. Whether it's that or a tie to the hallucinations people have suffered, the effect hasn't harmed anything or anyone (save those who are snobs about singing voices). He takes it over the exhaustion, aches, and nap breaks easily. It's something he could handle all the time, were they so fortunate as to pick to stick with an effect. Alas.

"How often do you say that?" Duty asks. The recent months haven't been kind to Darkbloods either. He lives with some, so he's usually aware of what Darkbloods go through quickly. The rest usually are covered by work. They have a full mix.

Releasing her legs, Gaia straightens up a little in her seated position and crosses her arms. While she looks like she's going to adopt a defensive front, it comes with acknowledgement of the troubles and a stab at humor.

"At least once a moon on average. But people have told me I need to try to be more optimistic sometimes. So I figure it can't hurt to hope for something less problematic." She offers a smile and for a second the humor really does seem genuine. But the expression slowly fades.

"I really mean it this time though. I even prefer the issues with my memory." And Duty would probably have seen a bit of how sensitive she gets on that topic over the past months that Darkblood memories have been affected.

"I've never had real problems with this before. But the lack of control on it... well it terrifies me," Gaia finishes quietly. She clearly doesn't want to be overheard admitting that.

"Hmmm," Duty's response is calm and noncommittal. A recognition of what she said. Optimism and always waiting on something else aren't the same thing. Certainly, the blood effects come and go each month, never under their control. They still have to live, no matter what happens each month. Even if it feels like he spent half of October asleep.

"Sometimes we only appreciate things once they're gone," Duty says. What's better or worse varies from person to person. Another Darkblood might trade control over a new ability for their sense of self. Like a baby experiencing a noisy room for the first time, something can make someone freak out, scream, or be terrified. However, over time, more experience changes what people are able to cope with. The sleep issue went from absolutely life disruptive to moderately frustrating by the end.

"It's okay to be scared," Duty says, "Even better, you know why."

He hums softly as he thinks a moment. "What does controlling your ability mean to you?" he asks simply but firmly. Even as an issue it comes out for many reasons.

Gaia isn't one of those people who would willingly engage in a monkey's paw sort of wish. She'd rather deal with and learn to live with D's overwhelming memories and experiences than have someone meddle with her ability to remember again. It gives her a sense of control... rather than something taken out of her hands.

The way Gaia's eyes slide to one side momentarily as Duty mentions that she knows why suggests there's something more complicated underneath her unease about this month's problems.

"It's not just fear of what could happen without control." Like one might cause an accident that could harm another. Or breaking something important and wasting a bunch of work. Gaia closes her eyes while her features show signs of distress.

"Have you ever had a feeling you're experiencing something similar to something that happened countless lifetimes ago... so terrible that even if you have no personal experience in your life to liken it to, you still feel its terror? It is a fear like that."

Gaia's arms have slipped down to draw her legs up again. There's comfort in the nervous gesture. Or perhaps that's in talking to someone that has nothing to do with her world or past memory issues. She gives Duty a wry smile and exhales.

"Of course I know that giving into those fears I could just as easily make something bad manifest as I could destroy something around me right now. Hence why I'm trying to visit here and keep myself calm." Gaia's brow then furrows with thought.

"I'd like to think control means that it doesn't manifest without my meaning it to. Or spiral out of my ability to contain it. It's one thing if I'm learning to use it and I fail at my goal. That's the whole experience of learning you know."

The way Gaia phrases it suggests she's daring someone to contend her outlook on the nature of control versus a learning experience. Her feet idly slide back and forth on the ground. "But if it's manifesting because of some subconscious thoughts or emotions... That's not controlling it."

He listens and appreciates that Gaia will share, both generally and with him. It's curious that the fear of control ties into something she cannot remember. Not remembering, how can she prevent whatever catastrophe happened before? How do you avoid problems you cannot identify?

Control everything, where everything is anything deemed relevant. At best, that's nearly impossible.

Life isn't static. Trench may be cyclical, but that cycle involves change. Regular change. The predictability of when blood effects will change, when they will end and a new one begins, is a privilege, a positive, a boon. Gaia does not have to fear some unknown origin of this problem. It's something they can discuss.

Duty says, "You—and your ability—are not in stasis. Consider: control as an equilibrium; every month you learn to adapt, to find your center. Same as meditation."

"You cannot hold still the ocean, but you can sail it."

Maybe not control everything. But Gaia is scared on a primal level and that same primal fear incites an urge to make sure whatever it is that was so terrible cannot happen again.

But Duty would be right. Knowing that the changes come and go with the cycle of the moon is something. The present now is absolutely not whatever horror happened in the far past. It's not even the same world.

"I understand, Duty. I really do. And it's not like I'm scared that I'm not good at it." She scowls at the ground and her arms before forcing herself to sit properly again. "What worries me is that this stupid fear will get out of control and create something horrible."

There. That's the real problem. Gaia might have admitted it but almost immediately her expression goes a little darker as if she's berating herself for admitting it aloud.

Fear begets its own monsters. With manifestation abilities, that can become literal. Duty makes a small sound of recognition. Logically, Gaia knows what he's said. She already knew. It's not a matter of logic or even good habits. Minimizing the risk is good, but the fear itself can be the source and isn't as readily tamed.

"How are you connected to the past catastrophe?" Duty asks, "Why do you have this fear?"

If only he had an answer to that. While he doesn't have fear the way Gaia does, he's experienced with emotions and instincts that don't come with the memories that built them. They were his, even if he no longer has the memories. He trusts himself. He doesn't know how realistic this fear is. Instead he's chipping away at the shape of it. His understanding would be good. Hers... if it helps her, even better.

Gaia looks up to study Duty carefully. There's been trust built between them, yet it's clear this is one of those things you don't talk about with just anyone. Well... that's how a lot of things are with peoples' 'world before Trench' isn't it?

"It's more a matter of who wouldn't be connected where I came from," Gaia begins after a moment. "It's just that there are some who are more aware of the story than most."

Even she doesn't know all of it. Her memories were jumbled from incidents that happened even before her experiences in Trench. Most of what she has is what she had written down and was blessedly found in her bag on arrival. And what she's written since.

"A long time ago, mankind was a lot more powerful. Apparently, they could even create whatever they pleased. Something made them lose control of that ability. I think... those events were so terrible, even people of the present- in my world- are able to experience that fear when confronted with something similar."

Gaia seems to think for a while. Then she focuses on Duty again and adds. "Nara'a Sunvara is from my world. Sort of." It's complicated. "He might be able to explain more." The teenager shrugs half-sheepishly.

"There's only a little I remember about it. Even before I came to Trench, my memories weren't great. And I wasn't ever much of a scholar."

Gaia certainly has more connection than most to the whole tale. In part she's reluctant to get into that much personal detail though it might be obvious she isn't saying everything. Offering Nara'a's name to Duty might be seen as an invitation to learn more about the less personal bits of the situation.

She isn't entirely adverse to the man seeking to learn more about it.

The issue isn't only Gaia's, it's far larger than that. Some of it will come back to her, but the basics he can get from someone else. Fair enough. Perhaps then he can better help. At the end of the day, however, Gaia has to handle it herself. He cannot do it for her.

"Traumatic," Duty says, serious and heavy. That word carries an understanding of world ending, humanity ending trauma. Not the same one, but he gets it to some degree. His apocalypse was in his lifetime, but he doesn't have memories from before it. He doesn't have all of his memories from after it. He doesn't need Darkblood memory issues to have holes in his memories.

"I'll talk with him, thank you," Duty says. He decides against the serious but honest statement that, at the end of the day, they each must carry and recover as best they can from the traumas they carry. Not all injuries can be healed; the rest takes hard work.

Instead he sits and considers her dilemma. "If possible, would you want an on/off switch?" Duty asks. He means of her powers. Darkblood. Possibly (possibly not) her natural abilities. Some extreme if inconvenient measure of control.

Gaia certainly didn't need the Darkblood memory issues in her life either as she already had a lot of holes in her memory. But that's what she keeps journals for.

In any case, she seems a little curious about the level of empathy in Duty's tone. However she doesn't pursue it. It's not as if she has much to go on to offer in turn and the conversation wasn't really about Duty's past. She is thankful he seems to understand.

The question he poses earns a brief flinch that implies an instinctive alarm that Duty might have just implied it was in his capacity. But that's not what he said, was it? And even if it was, Gaia scowls and seems to think it over for a moment before shaking her head firmly.

"No," she finally offers. Her gaze focuses on him and her answer seems certain. "It's a part of who I am and I've no intention of running away from it. Besides, something that convenient would probably come with a heavy price. Especially here."

Trench was not so kind as to offer a solution without any strings attached.

"Even if it was a switch I would have complete control over," her tone indicates this is highly doubtful, "Giving up an advantage against the dangers in this world seems like something someone should do as an absolute last resort. No matter how temporary."

To protect herself and those she cares about.

"It's like you said. It's better to learn how to adapt. And making certain the fear doesn't overwhelm me."

Duty may not have said it in so many words, but that's what Gaia took from them.

Her initial reaction shows on her face—fear, judgment, reflection, determination. After a conversation filled with uncertainty, doubt, and fear—none of those bad things in and of themselves, to be certain—it pleases Duty to see Gaia again sure of herself, of her beliefs and what path that means she chooses.

Whether Duty agrees with Gaia's reasoning or resulting answer doesn't matter. The girl living by her beliefs is the point.

He nods. "You have a path," he says. She still needs to walk it, but Gaia doesn't need to hear that from him. Nor does she need his approval, though she has it.

A path. Duty may not say many words, but the ones he does offer are ones that are good to hear. Gaia closes her eyes a moment to think about it before they open again and she smiles toward him. Approval aside, she's grateful.

"Thank you, Duty. It's nice to talk to someone, even if it's just a little."

D is in and out, Gaia is often busy with her own thing and Nara'a has been unavailable this month- that latter thing she's a little worried about but fortunately it will resolve itself by month's end.

Just like a lot of things, such as the focus of her current troubles. Gaia's attention is drawn to the Guardian Tree.

"I hope things have been going a bit more smoothly for you." It's not as if she's ever asked what Duty's bloodtype is. Nor would she want to pry to much. The man will tell her if he wants her to know.

"You're welcome," he says and means it. So few words can carry a great deal of meaning; his always do.

He too watches the tree, relaxed into a meditation pose. "I find my rhythm," Duty says, "every month." Whether it's the cold or the need to sleep or the need for song. A song plays in the back of his head, and he hums faintly without opening his mouth.

He's never hidden his blood type. He is who he is.

Gaia smiles wryly. "So you pace yourself. I know a few that could stand to learn that lesson."

She might get thrown off from time to time, but Gaia doesn't consider herself lacking in the sense to at least consciously make an effort to find her rhythm.

Duty then gets a quick, suspicious look when he starts humming. She's trying to ignore how catchy it is and the urge to hum along.

"Oh, rhythm. Was that a joke?"

Duty's eyes gleam. He inclines his head slightly—enough it could be an acknowledgment or an adjustment. Is it a joke? He asks her to make that judgment in his silence.

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Echoes of Ages Past [closed]

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