legionworld | (no subject)

Who| Marjara and YOU.
What| Avoiding these time ripple shenanigans, thank you very much. She's had enough tampering with time for one lifetime. So she's camping this one out. Feel free to take refuge in the forest for a while.
Where| Marjara's Biome
When| During the Time Ripple event.

Marjara hadn't seen magic work this way in quite some time, not since the Magister Alexius decided to tamper with time and thrust her into an alternate future. What a horrifying glimpse of how things could be that had been. She had understandably no desire to be wrapped up in time-bending yet again. It didn't seem to be doing anyone the same amount of harm as ripping open time's fabric seemed to have done before, anyway.

So here she was, retiring to her little scrap of the station, fashioned into the likeness of the woods she had grown up in. Lush green forests stood tall, nearly blocking the sunlight with their broad canopy save in a few small clearings. Elven ruins stood bleached and bare, half-buried and crumbling, but they were such a facet of even her subconscious memory of these places she was almost glad to see them.

And a warm campire had been set up in the embrace of one of these ruins. Against a half-collapsed stone wall a tent stood, as well as a table for gathering ingredients to brew potions. The lap of luxury and technology it wasn't, but...

Well. She slept better at night, anyway.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

"Two years ago. And in that time the people we've saved have turned on us, and it turns out someone else was behind the initial incident all along. Only dealing with him is going to be difficult with everyone around us claiming we should be disbanded and forgotten about. And?"

She nods towards her arm.

"That finally caught up with me. Magic that strong comes at a price. At first it just twinged. Felt like my arm was asleep all the time. Then it started to burn. Then it started to spread. By the end it was exploding power at random moments, and starting to consume the rest of me. But we managed to remove it in time, so."

Finally, she took another sip of her beer, settling back against her bedroll once more. Something heavy hung around her eyes, but she smiled regardless.

"Not dead. I don't know about you, Tucker, but I'll give an arm for 'not dead'."

"Yeah, don't even have to think about that." He took another drink before digging his feet into the dirt. "Makes masturbating a little boring because you can't ever use that Stranger's Arm trick, but I think it's different for ladies anyway."

His own eyes looked down at his sword arm and he imagined giving it up. Shit, what would he do, other than have Sarge build him a new one? Or maybe Caboose. But it wouldn't be the same, no matter how hard he tried. Could say he lost it in the war, and people dug war heroes with scars, but...give him his natural born arm any day.

Besides, it'd ruin the aesthetic.

"You lost something, and I gained something. Guess it's different for each of us." Of course, he wasn't exactly done with his yet, Wash's warning about Temple - whoever the fuck that was - still stuck in his head.

"So, did you win? After all that?" Was it worth it?

"I thought we did."

Her head shook slowly as she let her incomplete arm fall back to her side, falling under her sleeve once more. "The problem is that 'winning' only lasts so long. Things have a tendency to not stay fixed forever. It is...deeply frustrating."

An understatement, from what it looked like she was working to swallow back. Anger, bitterness, fury and sorrow, all quickly doused with another swift drink from the can Tucker had brought with him.

"Fucking tell me about it." Yeah, that took chugging the rest of his beer and dropping the empty before going to another one. The bitterness was obvious, edged with something almost tired; all he wanted was to find fucking Church and just...retire. Again. Probably with his kid this time. And hang out with his friends and do their normal stupid crap. Was that too much to ask for?

"I mean, every time we defeat whatever, then something else comes and it's more of a pain in the ass than the last thing. Reds versus Blues, Wyoming, time travel, the desert and C.T. and his assholes, the Meta, getting Church back, the Director and a million Texes, fucking Chorus and Felix and Charon and now this. It's always something."

And that's why his habitat looked like a tropical resort. If he wasn't getting peace in the real world, he sure as shit would there.

"But hey, at least we do what we can, right? I mean, sure, it sucks, but...we do it so other people don't have to."

That was quite the litany. There's a glimmer of empathy in her eyes as she reaches out, a hand resting gently against his arm as he spoke. She might not have faced the same problems, but she could roll out a laundry list of her own readily enough.

It's always something.

Isn't that the truth?

"That's the idea, at least," she murmured, her hand sliding away quietly. "It just winds up being that you're the only one who can solve a lot of problems. It gets hard to see a problem and not think you're meant to be the one to fix it."