interstellar5555 | I'm in the autumn of my years

Entry tags:

I'm in the autumn of my years

Who: Greg Universe and any Rescuers
What: who's this asshole
When: June 18
Where: The Rescuers' ship
Warnings: trauma and PTSD

If Greg has a reaction to entering a massive alien guitar spaceship, he keeps it to himself. Between the drama of the ritual, the return of his maimed soul, and his haphazard rescue, he simply has too much to process first before he can take in the rest of the rescuer operation. As a result, first thing he does is find a small, empty room--a bathroom--and ask to be left alone for a while.

An hour or so later, a very different man emerges again.

It hadn't been his first intention in locking himself in that room, but the longer he'd been in there, the more necessary it had felt. Greg hasn't felt like himself in a very long time. The worst of it was the result of Blanche's meddling with his soul, yes, but it extended before that point as well. The face of his youth, the one Blanche used and tried to make into a different person altogether... Greg couldn't keep looking at that face anymore. It hurt too much, made him too sick. Adding a few years on to his appearance and a beard isn't going to fix it, either; he's not the same person he used to be, either. (After all, he did keep the hair.) But this is better, closer than before. Whoever he is now, this is about as close as he's willing to get.

Greg Universe emerges into the ship, avoiding eye contact, and finally begins to take things in.

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"Luce..." He stares at the tupperware a moment, a bit bewildered. It's true; food had been the very last thing on his mind. And that's sort of completely out there for Greg Universe. Slowly, he takes the offered meal. Now that he thinks of it, he is hungry, but... he's not sure he'd be able to keep it down, either.

"Um... thanks." He's not really talking about the spaghetti.

“It’s no problem. What are friends for, right?”

She’s not talking about the spaghetti either.

Satisfied with one thing done, however, she folds her hands behind her back. There’s a lot they need to talk about, especially on Greg’s own mental state… But that can be for later. Some things you shouldn’t really rush. For now, there’s only one thing she really thinks is important for her to say.
“Sorry for the mess back there. Usually I try to have a plan before I make daring rescue missions instead of making them messy rescues instead.”

Greg makes a noncommittal noise. "Ahh... don't worry about it. We'll be able to laugh about it later."

He doesn't sound as sure as he'd like. In a perfect world, they could laugh about it now and forget it all ever happened, but Greg has the sinking feeling these memories are going to stick with him for a long, long time.

"Things are bound to get messy in a place like this. I'm just glad you guys came back for me, however you did it doesn't matter so much."

“I’d still think I’d have preferred not to set your soul on fire, dear.”

Unless it was absolutely necessary, anyway. However, as bad as things had become during that chaotic set of battles in the hotel, not once had Luce thought that things couldn’t be salvaged in some way. It had all been a matter of returning the crystals to their owners…. And they’ve all obviously accomplished that.
She holds out her hand to him, tilting her head with a soft smile.

“Want to go it somewhere out of the way? It’s been a while since we’ve gotten to talk.”

"Well... yeah, me too."

He has to admit, that's a sensation he'd have been fine never experiencing. But he's not dead, so, hey.

Greg looks at her hand, quiet for a moment. Something about the gesture feels motherly, like an offer to guide a lost child. After all, that's probably how he looks about now. He smiles back to her, wan and gentle, and instead offers his arm to link with hers. Better to just drop all pretense and walk around in half a hug.

"We've got a lot to talk about, huh?"

Well, for this kind of thing, skipping steps straight to hugging works just fine for her. She slips her arm through his before starting to lead the way without really thinking about it. If he faints from whatever nonsense Blanche did to him, it’s probably best to have a steady grip on him regardless. You never know. That’s become practically a motto while they’ve been stuck here: you never know.

While they walk, she makes small talk to fill the silence. “You know, I do sort of miss the comfy bathrobes, but it’s rather nice to not have to worry about the paparazzi anymore.”

It's been the one truth that they've been able to rely on all the way through: you never know. It's been a long, long year of wait-and-see. And what a sight it's been.

Her comment catches him a little off guard. In the short time he's had away, that thought hadn't yet occurred to him. "No cameras... huh." There's a note of awe in his tone. "Y'know... I don't think I even realized how much I missed having a private life." He blows out a breath. "Didn't think about how nice it would be to be normal again."

There may be a reason for that. Even now, there's a twitch of reluctance in the back of his brain, writhing against this train of thought and urging him to flee back to Virgo.

A normal life will be a long way coming, considering they’re currently having this delightful conversation in a spaceship that can travel through dimensions, but hey. It’s a start, and it’s a little more normal than the harsh demanding life of a musician. Luce hums.

“I’ll have to take you out to have lunch at one of our stops. I took some very fancy jewelry when I made my little getaway, and it’s been doing me well whenever I’ve needed to spend anything.” There, this looks good. A small little study area of some sort set off to the side. She gestures for him to take a seat first. After his long day, he deserves it.

“But I was telling Rei not too long ago that what I’m looking forward to the most is a chance to welcome you all to my real home one day.”

Greg sits with a long sigh of release. Nothing on this ship is likely to measure up to the luxury of what Virgo provided, but in this moment it's maybe the nicest, comfiest seat he's ever had.

Somehow, the thought that Luce pilfered a bunch of goods before her escape doesn't surprise Greg in the slightest. He wonders if Blanche even noticed. Probably not. "Can we do that? Visit each other's... planets? I mean, this is a space ship, but are they willing to let us take tours and stuff?" A few months ago, just the notion would have made him ecstatic. Right now, he's just homesick.

“Well… I don’t see why not.” She stretches her arms over her head, glad to take a moment to do even that. After the night they’ve all had, it’s a relief. “I think we deserve that much, don’t you? To decide what we want to do and go where we like without any restrictions besides ourselves.”

A pause.

“Also, Rei says she can travel through dimensions, which is interesting. It’s amazing the kind of people we’ve gotten to meet here, isn’t it?”

"I... guess." Greg frowns into the middle distance. It sounds fairly incredible, but he can't bring himself to get excited at the idea yet. Not while everyone is still trapped, and while his mind and soul are still reeling with freedom. "Let's just... take it one step at a time, for now."

He leans on the table, chewing at his cheek. "It's sorta bananas, huh? How strong everyone around here is. They really got together an incredible crew." It's relieving, for a number of reasons. Capable people, for one. Less pressure on him, for two. Boy, he's tired.

Sympathetically, she rubs between his shoulder blades. She guesses, for someone who hasn’t seen the future at all- literally- it’s dreaming too big too soon. But she knows that whatever happens here with Blanche and Santiago and their mysterious rescuers…. She’ll still end up at home for the end of things.
But that’s not going to be reassuring for him to hear.

“Tell me about it! Arpegius- one of the ghosts, the ones that have been trying to contact us and help us remember- he told me that a few of the rescuers ended up back home because of complicated time-space things… You know how it is.” He probably doesn’t. That’s alright, it’s not Luce’s area of expertise either. “But even taking that into account… We have a lot of amazing people to rely on. Although it still seems like the ones who did the gathering are something of a mystery.”

Well, it's a better explanation for disappearance than getting trapped inside a crystal.

"You mean those helmet guys, right? Everyone made a big deal about them, but I never caught sight of them." Maybe that's for the best, though... if he'd known, he probably would have reported them to Blanche when the worst of it happened. "Guess you gotta keep a low profile when you have such a big thing in the works."

“That’s right, they’re the ones.” She presses the tips of her fingers together and smiles. “The one with the silver helmet saw me not too long after that time I went into the basement, you know… We did another performance together, even though there was all that programming. It felt amazing, like being myself again instead of muffled and scared. Of course, it only lasted for a moment…. When they left, things went back. But I didn’t forget.”

Luce grins. “It made things easier, after. No wonder they erased our memories, huh? Once you remember feeling something, then that’s it.”

"Sort of like a beacon in the dark, right? Even if it's not always shining, it showed you which direction to go."

He never got a helpful duet, and the more intense flashes of insight didn't come until far too much later. Greg leans his chin on his palm. "My life at home had enough in common here, it was a lot harder for me to get that sort of feeling until pretty late in the game."

“You seemed too down to earth to strike me as the typical rockstar type, Greg. I mean that as a compliment.” It’s made it easy to talk to him, be concerned. He’s always tried to be there for people. At least, when his soul has been his own.

“Why don’t you tell me what you remember of your home? I know for a lot of us, there’s still a lot that we don’t remember… But sometimes talking out loud helps jog things.”

He grins, a little lopsided. "Ahh, you didn't see me in my heyday." Except she had, in a day even more hey-er than ever. "Biggest difference between what you saw and the real one was an audience." He shrugs, smirking. "Guess this was a nice way to know that maybe I could've made it, one day.

"Buuut you're mostly right. Ended up falling in love and settling down by the beach. The glitz and glamor life was okay, but raising a kid, taking things slow... that's the real rush."

He gives a small hum of thought. "I guess that's why it was easier to remember stuff around Steven."

“Taking things slow is a rush, is it?” Luce laughs, but it’s with him more than anything. The simple things in life are some of the best, she thinks. If she had a choice, she knows that’s where she’d drift towards as well.

“I knew I was right about you two being connected. I think beneath everything Pride has done… He definitely has your sensitivity. It’s nice to see.”

"Exactly." He laughs as well. "Just watching stuff happen is pretty incredible." Taking the initiative can be so overrated.

Greg looks down at his hands. "You figured it out before me. Thanks for pushing me in the right direction." But he sighs, shakes his head. "He's usually so bright and optimistic. He's a real force of positive energy."

Usually the thought would make him smile, cheer him, give him the strength to keep going. But he hasn't seen his son showing any of that joy or exuberance that always seemed to define him. "Luce, I... I don't know how much is what Pride put in him, and how much is... what they've done to him."

“So we’ll get him back, we’ll find out, and then we’ll help him heal.” Her fingers wrap around what they can of his arm, full of warmth as she squeezes. “At least half the battle is because he’s trapped in that place. He doesn’t have what I had, a view of something better. When you’re in a place like that, it’s what keeps you down. You can’t imagine getting out, and you feel so hopeless…” Greg should know. Luce trails off, thinking.

“But I think we can help him. He’ll have you, after all, and so many other friends here. Besides…” She presses a finger to her cheek. “I think I could help him too, with my flames. They, ah…” A sheepish laugh. “They’re actually nice ones, if you’ll believe me.”

Greg leans slightly into her hand, taking comfort in it. She's right, of course. He can barely see it himself, only just out of the label's grasp, but already this vantage point makes so many more options and possibilities clear. Once Steven is free... they'll figure out what needs to happen from there.

"Your flames, huh?" He sends her a sidelong look, wry and bemused. It sure didn't feel too helpful on his magic crystal, but he'll give her the benefit of the doubt. "The squirrel thing was you, right?"

At least Luce looks a little sheepish. “It doesn’t usually have that kind of effect… I had no idea it would do that to you, dear, I’m sorry.” She was hoping just to steal it away while she had the chance… Well, it all worked out in the end. “But yes, the squirrel was me. I’m still getting a handle on it.

“It works much better when I keep it close to my body. Actually…. I’ve already used it that way with Steven once before.”

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I'm in the autumn of my years

When Mafia Mom Com Home And Make Hte Spagheti

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