Esther Coleman (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
beingdifferent) wrote2014-02-27 12:19 am
beingdifferent) wrote2014-02-27 12:19 am
Twelfth little lie ♰ And she smiles and she says "This is it, that's the end of the joke"
[Floods, breaches, and the like don't usually affect Esther too badly. They're strange, they're sometimes horrifying, but she can let them wash past her, secure in the knowledge that they aren't her, that they're only some fleeting impression of energy or dimension. She can usually let them go, and let the people she could have been fade away easily.
In her seven months on board there have been two events she can't easily brush off: the mirror Barge and this one. The mirror dimension's mystique was simple enough; she'd had authority, power, confidence, a measure of safety and camaraderie, and a pang of longing still hit her every time she thought of it. But this last one, when she'd been pushed forward into her future self (a future self, she amended, one that may well never come to fruition), she had been functional. Acceptable, if not normal.
No matter what magics the Admiral might be capable of working, normal could never happen.
There had been inspiration drawn from the flood, Esther understood, but how, she didn't know. Ned had been undead, cold and ready to kill, for God's sake, all for the irritating so-called king who attempted to exert his power over the passengers; Chris (although she suspects he'll never speak to her civilly again) had been terrified and lost; she'd been shown a lie, something that could never be realized. The memories and lessons she learned in that state do not take hold. When she reviews them she feels nothing but doubt, crippling disbelief and self-pity. She cannot survive as a woman, she is well aware. She cannot be the woman the Admiral's shown her - she can't be one at all.
It never works.]
[Private; Rorschach]
Can we please ensure any training sessions take place in a private space?
[Private; Jean]
What is wrong with me?
[Public]
There is much said on this ship about redemption, about second chances, and about forgiveness. It's also been said that some on board deserve none of these things. What makes a person worthy of this consideration? What quality makes them worthwhile? Is it merely their willingness to change or is it something else, some buried trait that gives them their worth?
In her seven months on board there have been two events she can't easily brush off: the mirror Barge and this one. The mirror dimension's mystique was simple enough; she'd had authority, power, confidence, a measure of safety and camaraderie, and a pang of longing still hit her every time she thought of it. But this last one, when she'd been pushed forward into her future self (a future self, she amended, one that may well never come to fruition), she had been functional. Acceptable, if not normal.
No matter what magics the Admiral might be capable of working, normal could never happen.
There had been inspiration drawn from the flood, Esther understood, but how, she didn't know. Ned had been undead, cold and ready to kill, for God's sake, all for the irritating so-called king who attempted to exert his power over the passengers; Chris (although she suspects he'll never speak to her civilly again) had been terrified and lost; she'd been shown a lie, something that could never be realized. The memories and lessons she learned in that state do not take hold. When she reviews them she feels nothing but doubt, crippling disbelief and self-pity. She cannot survive as a woman, she is well aware. She cannot be the woman the Admiral's shown her - she can't be one at all.
It never works.]
[Private; Rorschach]
Can we please ensure any training sessions take place in a private space?
[Private; Jean]
What is wrong with me?
[Public]
There is much said on this ship about redemption, about second chances, and about forgiveness. It's also been said that some on board deserve none of these things. What makes a person worthy of this consideration? What quality makes them worthwhile? Is it merely their willingness to change or is it something else, some buried trait that gives them their worth?
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He killed. Cold-blooded. Manipulative. He brought me up to make me into a tool. And still, he was the closest thing I ever had to a father.
If someone like him can get loved, anyone can.
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But everyone's someone's kid.