i never needed light to see you [open log]
Characters: Caprica-Six, OPEN. (Ladies she's talked to previously would be epic, but honestly, anyone's welcome.)
Date: Postdated to December 3rd, early afternoon.
Summary: Caprica figures out what the dirt she took from the wild places actually does.
Warnings: Some sad, or rather some bittersweet. Comes with the fandom territory. Feel free to have your character try to make her less sad; it might work. >> Other than that I'll edit this if anything pops up (though at this point I don't expect it).
Caprica has been feeling a little strange off and on, ever since she got back from the expedition into the wilds with Anna and the others. It's nothing serious, but she's been seeing flashes out of the corner of her eye, people or things or places that aren't there. One day she could have sworn she was in the Riverwalk market in Caprica City, as on the day of the attacks.
Several times she thought she heard Gaius talking to her - the real Gaius, or the one she's been seeing where no one else can - even though she couldn't have. He can't be in this place. (That thought both upsets and pleases her at the same time, and she has to wonder at herself, that she can't decide which she wants more - to be here without him, or back on New Caprica with him.)
The visions have started to ebb, though, for which she is grateful. She's been praying to God for guidance, for knowledge of what to do next, since she has finally fully realized she can't leave. And she keeps thinking back to that handful of soil she secreted away in her bag. Eventually she takes the stuff out, cups it in her hands. It's just dirt. It hasn't changed since she came back, and she doesn't know why she was expecting it to. It still has that same feeling of potential about it, like - and this is utterly strange - it wants her to do something with it, but that's impossible. Dirt is dirt, it can't want anything.
She frowns, a little, and lets the dirt slip from her fingers into the grass, slowly. She's thinking of Gaius again - she can't not, he occupies her mind whether she wants him to or not - and quite suddenly she remembers his house, where she'd spent so much time. Four, five years ago - has it been that long since they first met? She recalls telling Sharon about the house. His house was on a bluff over a lake. I always loved the view - sunlight on the water. It's my favorite spot in the universe. As many lies as she'd told that day, that description was true.
When exactly it happens or even how, she isn't sure. At first she thinks she's seeing things again. This must be some sort of mirage. But several minutes pass and it doesn't waver or vanish, and with a slow, deliberate pace she climbs the steps and enters through the front door.
It's nearly exactly as she remembers it, and Caprica has an excellent memory. The furniture, the wood and glass and sculptures and artwork, right down to the betta fish swimming around in their strangely shaped containers on the table in the foyer. And the view - light scatters across the lake water, and she feels her heart tighten strangely as she walks forward, putting her hands on the back of the couch. They'd spent so much time here. And in the kitchen - she crosses into that room, runs her fingers over the glass of the dining table. Gaius used to make them drinks here. Up the stairs she goes, and - the bedroom. They used to spend more time than anywhere else here. Slowly, she moves over to the bed, sits down on the edge of it, slides a hand over the material of the coverlet and bunches it between her fingers.
She shouldn't want to remember this, but she did. Caprica feels nearly as if she wants to cry, but the tears lodge in her throat.
[ OOC: OOPS I FORGOT. If you need visuals for the house, it's here. ]
Date: Postdated to December 3rd, early afternoon.
Summary: Caprica figures out what the dirt she took from the wild places actually does.
Warnings: Some sad, or rather some bittersweet. Comes with the fandom territory. Feel free to have your character try to make her less sad; it might work. >> Other than that I'll edit this if anything pops up (though at this point I don't expect it).
Caprica has been feeling a little strange off and on, ever since she got back from the expedition into the wilds with Anna and the others. It's nothing serious, but she's been seeing flashes out of the corner of her eye, people or things or places that aren't there. One day she could have sworn she was in the Riverwalk market in Caprica City, as on the day of the attacks.
Several times she thought she heard Gaius talking to her - the real Gaius, or the one she's been seeing where no one else can - even though she couldn't have. He can't be in this place. (That thought both upsets and pleases her at the same time, and she has to wonder at herself, that she can't decide which she wants more - to be here without him, or back on New Caprica with him.)
The visions have started to ebb, though, for which she is grateful. She's been praying to God for guidance, for knowledge of what to do next, since she has finally fully realized she can't leave. And she keeps thinking back to that handful of soil she secreted away in her bag. Eventually she takes the stuff out, cups it in her hands. It's just dirt. It hasn't changed since she came back, and she doesn't know why she was expecting it to. It still has that same feeling of potential about it, like - and this is utterly strange - it wants her to do something with it, but that's impossible. Dirt is dirt, it can't want anything.
She frowns, a little, and lets the dirt slip from her fingers into the grass, slowly. She's thinking of Gaius again - she can't not, he occupies her mind whether she wants him to or not - and quite suddenly she remembers his house, where she'd spent so much time. Four, five years ago - has it been that long since they first met? She recalls telling Sharon about the house. His house was on a bluff over a lake. I always loved the view - sunlight on the water. It's my favorite spot in the universe. As many lies as she'd told that day, that description was true.
When exactly it happens or even how, she isn't sure. At first she thinks she's seeing things again. This must be some sort of mirage. But several minutes pass and it doesn't waver or vanish, and with a slow, deliberate pace she climbs the steps and enters through the front door.
It's nearly exactly as she remembers it, and Caprica has an excellent memory. The furniture, the wood and glass and sculptures and artwork, right down to the betta fish swimming around in their strangely shaped containers on the table in the foyer. And the view - light scatters across the lake water, and she feels her heart tighten strangely as she walks forward, putting her hands on the back of the couch. They'd spent so much time here. And in the kitchen - she crosses into that room, runs her fingers over the glass of the dining table. Gaius used to make them drinks here. Up the stairs she goes, and - the bedroom. They used to spend more time than anywhere else here. Slowly, she moves over to the bed, sits down on the edge of it, slides a hand over the material of the coverlet and bunches it between her fingers.
She shouldn't want to remember this, but she did. Caprica feels nearly as if she wants to cry, but the tears lodge in her throat.
[ OOC: OOPS I FORGOT. If you need visuals for the house, it's here. ]