[The hand on hers braces her further still. Her chin wobbles a moment, but she breathes deep and looks to the ground. Hold steady.]
It's the only one I have left. There's no clues anywhere, and so we have to pin all our hopes on the few places they won't let us into.
[She hasn't forgotten the brig.
The question presses hard on her flaking veneer. It's not as if she's never known death. It's not as if she's never been up against impossible odds. It's how they'd spent a week eating and drinking and throwing silly parties. Yesterday she'd been worried about dodging bête noirs.
And now she's trawling a ship so pristine it won't yield one speck out of place. Whoever wrote this story did it with tighter script than she's ever seen.]
No. I was with both of them. There were seventeen of us, in the Observation Lounge.
[She wets her lips glances behind them. It's not going to be a secret for long, but something feels so off about all of this, she'd rather not find someone in earshot behind them.]
After a while, all of us had this strange, tightening feeling in our chests. And in the heart too. Like an illness, or maybe a poison. But then Luke collapsed, and before we could do anything he was gone. And so was the illness. [She looks to Sidon, eyes wide.] We were feeling him dying and we didn't even know it.
Then we passed out, and in the morning his body was gone, and Dahut was missing. With no warning. No sign of any struggle.
[ there's a moment stretched into silence. the other lounge members weren't shy about sharing a little of what happened, but she is the first to go into painstaking detail. it hurts, a thumb pressed into a fresh wound. and it can only be moreso for the dozen plus of them who had to feel it, aware and helpless.
so, first off— ]
I am so sorry, Rosamund.
[ to be in anyone's mind as they die—it's a nightmare possibility. he needs to spend a moment on her, on more softly spoken kindness, even if they do have more to do. it isn't wrong to grieve who they've lost, even if they must step forward.
the rest comes less easily. ]
I worry... if something is wrong with the ship. [ and with that, there is a short, sudden sweep of dread. it's so strong that his tail twitches, swishing slowly once as though it were cutting water. ] I'm told Ganymede and the others failed to "override" the door locks. Yet if it truly was Dahut in the galley, that means the doors must have opened again.
[ sidon is not a detective, nor an unparalleled genius—it does not take either to realize that something is amiss. he looks to her with a firm gaze, expecting she will not flinch from it. ]
Apparently, we will have a chance to see what may have happened to Dahut tomorrow. Our only chance.
[How grateful she is now, that it was him standing outside this door. No one has been especially callous, and everyone is eager to help one another. But Sidon is earnest in a way that few others are.
Better yet, he's still pragmatic.]
There's too many convenient accidents happening, if you ask me. Someone said Dahut might have had access to open the door, that he might have gone to make breakfast again. But even if he could leave, even if the doors were opened by accident, why on Earth would he go to the galley instead of trying to wake someone else up? He saw Luke die, too.
[There's a pause.]
Or...he went here for some reason. [She can't fathom why the simulation rooms should be locked too. Her head is spinning. She's no detective either, and the mysteries she had been primed to solve were more cosmic. Fantastical. Not a boots to the ground murder.] If we only have one chance to find out, we have to be open to any possibilities. And we have to be prepared for anything.
[Her fingers flex on her bow. Then she sighs. She'd been forced to sleep longer than she wanted, and yet she's so very, very tired. Her forehead comes to rest at Sidon's middle. Her eyes close and she takes a deep breath.
She misses her friends. Deeply, fervently. She wishes she knew the ones here better.
She wishes she'd talked to Luke at the party. She wishes she hadn't turned Dahut away last night.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
It's the only one I have left. There's no clues anywhere, and so we have to pin all our hopes on the few places they won't let us into.
[She hasn't forgotten the brig.
The question presses hard on her flaking veneer. It's not as if she's never known death. It's not as if she's never been up against impossible odds. It's how they'd spent a week eating and drinking and throwing silly parties. Yesterday she'd been worried about dodging bête noirs.
And now she's trawling a ship so pristine it won't yield one speck out of place. Whoever wrote this story did it with tighter script than she's ever seen.]
No. I was with both of them. There were seventeen of us, in the Observation Lounge.
[She wets her lips glances behind them. It's not going to be a secret for long, but something feels so off about all of this, she'd rather not find someone in earshot behind them.]
After a while, all of us had this strange, tightening feeling in our chests. And in the heart too. Like an illness, or maybe a poison. But then Luke collapsed, and before we could do anything he was gone. And so was the illness. [She looks to Sidon, eyes wide.] We were feeling him dying and we didn't even know it.
Then we passed out, and in the morning his body was gone, and Dahut was missing. With no warning. No sign of any struggle.
I don't know what to think of it.
no subject
so, first off— ]
I am so sorry, Rosamund.
[ to be in anyone's mind as they die—it's a nightmare possibility. he needs to spend a moment on her, on more softly spoken kindness, even if they do have more to do. it isn't wrong to grieve who they've lost, even if they must step forward.
the rest comes less easily. ]
I worry... if something is wrong with the ship. [ and with that, there is a short, sudden sweep of dread. it's so strong that his tail twitches, swishing slowly once as though it were cutting water. ] I'm told Ganymede and the others failed to "override" the door locks. Yet if it truly was Dahut in the galley, that means the doors must have opened again.
[ sidon is not a detective, nor an unparalleled genius—it does not take either to realize that something is amiss. he looks to her with a firm gaze, expecting she will not flinch from it. ]
Apparently, we will have a chance to see what may have happened to Dahut tomorrow. Our only chance.
no subject
[How grateful she is now, that it was him standing outside this door. No one has been especially callous, and everyone is eager to help one another. But Sidon is earnest in a way that few others are.
Better yet, he's still pragmatic.]
There's too many convenient accidents happening, if you ask me. Someone said Dahut might have had access to open the door, that he might have gone to make breakfast again. But even if he could leave, even if the doors were opened by accident, why on Earth would he go to the galley instead of trying to wake someone else up? He saw Luke die, too.
[There's a pause.]
Or...he went here for some reason. [She can't fathom why the simulation rooms should be locked too. Her head is spinning. She's no detective either, and the mysteries she had been primed to solve were more cosmic. Fantastical. Not a boots to the ground murder.] If we only have one chance to find out, we have to be open to any possibilities. And we have to be prepared for anything.
[Her fingers flex on her bow. Then she sighs. She'd been forced to sleep longer than she wanted, and yet she's so very, very tired. Her forehead comes to rest at Sidon's middle. Her eyes close and she takes a deep breath.
She misses her friends. Deeply, fervently. She wishes she knew the ones here better.
She wishes she'd talked to Luke at the party. She wishes she hadn't turned Dahut away last night.]
...I only have three arrows.