🎵 free for all (yours, yours + mine, yours + others)
But, oh, we're not the same
Time doesn't care what you went through
It moves like nothing's changed
He woke up softly; a quiet inhale to tune of the breeze, the following exhale in sync with the petals that drifted in the mists. Pale lavender eyes blinked open, the sky a prism of stars, nebulous clouds, the clouded sun. A Ghost hovered in front of him. “Good morning,” her? voice was soft, strong, sturdy. It reminded him of something...someone. “You’ve been brought back by the Light of the Traveler, by me! I’m your Ghost.”
Standing slowly, he reached for her, hands gentle against her shell. Though his throat was parched, he rasped a question, “My Ghost? Do I have a name? Do you have name?” There was something tugging at his memory, a flash of golden eyes, nearly the same color as the Ghosts’ optic. It lurked just below the surface, calling to him softly, as if a lullaby were on the breeze.
Her shell tilted, black with gold stripes and purple filigree. “I do not have a name, but if you would like to give me one than I’ll definitely accept it. It would be nice to have a name of my own. As for you...I get the feeling that not all of your memories have been fully locked away. What name do you remember, if any?”
He was quiet for a few moments, even deep in thought, he took in the details surrounding him; mist, petals on the wind, deep blue robes on his body, long purple hair left loose that needed a good brushing, armor scattered around the area, and what he could only imagine were corpses. He turned from the sight, holding his Ghost close.
Golden eyes burned in his vision, a rakish smile, a held out hand. “I think I’ll call you Tiger, if that’s alright with you?” Seeing his Ghost spin her shell in contemplation, he waited till bounced in a nod. “I think...I think I was called Circinus once. I think I’d like to be called that again.”
“Circinus? Oh! After the constellation? Someone must’ve thought you’d map the way for others I bet, that’s the sort of compass that constellation is for at least. As a Warlock, that’s a pretty accurate comparison, but in truth, it is up to you which path you choose to follow.”
[ Fuck what they say. Circinus, you’re brilliant, and if they won’t give you the chance to prove it, then I say you just gotta show them all anyway ]
A gasp was wrenched from his chest, shaky and ragged, eyes blinked frantically as he looked around for the source of the voice. Tiger bonked against his forehead, and he focused on her. “I heard a voice, a woman...she said something similar to me in the past...I, I...is this normal?”
A digital hum followed, the Ghost flying away to scan the area. “Yes and no. While it’s not especially common for this to happen, it still does. You’re hearing memories, the ones that slipped through your Light. There’s nothing to be afraid of with them. However, the cold and the warring fiefdoms and the Fallen are definitely things to be concerned about. There’s some armor here that’ll fit you, and a couple working guns. I’ll get you someplace safe, and then you can decide which path you’ll take.”
Following her instructions, fragments of a lullaby filtered through his memory. “I wonder who she was....” Perhaps she was still alive? He hoped...and yet he wasn’t sure when he hoped to find this out. Focusing on survival was easier, cateloging everything he had and listening to Tiger about the state of the world, the only memory that slipped through his focus was that of golden eyes and an open hand held out to him.
[One day, I’m gonna get out of this hell hole. I’ll bring you with me if you’d like.]