[You are ten years old, approximately. Your body is scrawny, your skin is a sickly brown and your eyes are a dull grey. You live every waking moment knowing that you are the result of an atrocity. You are a war crime. The complete genocide of the Ninth House and all children below the age of eighteen. The halls of the house echo with empty grief as the elders all spend the rest of their life mourning what your parents told them was an accident. All except for one girl, barely older than you, who hates you more than anything in the world.
You have spent your entire young life looking for a reason to live. You are far too expensive to die.
The Ninth House was created for one purpose. The tomb. The locked tomb of Castle Dreaburh, that which guards the Emperor's death, that which must never be opened, the rock that you pray will never be rolled away.
You are going to open it. You have spent the last few years breaking every single lock, with only one remaining, and you are going to open it, and if what is in there is not worth it, you are going to lock the door behind you.
There is someone behind you, however. And they know what you're up to. Fortunately, she hates you. She's the only other kid left alive, after all.]
Nonagesimus. [She calls out, and you can tell that she's delighted at the prospect of getting you in trouble.] Were you thinking of opening the tomb?
[Distantly, you'll be able to hear someone's voice through the harsh Ninth winds as you turn and face the only potential target of your rage.
[ Lacus is Lacus and yet she isn't. There are feelings and motivations inside of her that are foreign, based on memories she has no real access to. She responds to a name that isn't hers, except right now it is and turns to face a perfect stranger who isn't strange to her now.
And there's another voice, something else entirely, and Lacus-as-Lacus wishes she could listen more closely. ]
[The girl looms over you, snapping her fingers in front of your face. She's lanky and tall, and red-headed (terrible!), and her eyes are no doubt familiar to Lacus.
Golden gleaming eyes like tiny stars, unnatural and beautiful. Lipochrome.]
Did you go deaf or something? I guess if you're walking in through there, you've probably gone mad too.
[The tomb calls. The voice calls from inside.
'You held the sword aloft... Who held the sword? What was his name? Lacus...']
[ "Why don't you go back to digging for your dead mum's bones and leave me to my business, Nav. This doesn't concern the likes of you." That's what an impulse inside her says, because she's not Lacus Clyne now. Not really. Just enough Lacus Clyne to phrase it a little differently. ]
That isn't any concern of yours. Leave me be, Nav. There's something I need to do here.
[ Because that something is speaking to her. It's in her head and she wants to listen. ]
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Week 5, Memshare
You have spent your entire young life looking for a reason to live. You are far too expensive to die.
The Ninth House was created for one purpose. The tomb. The locked tomb of Castle Dreaburh, that which guards the Emperor's death, that which must never be opened, the rock that you pray will never be rolled away.
You are going to open it. You have spent the last few years breaking every single lock, with only one remaining, and you are going to open it, and if what is in there is not worth it, you are going to lock the door behind you.
There is someone behind you, however. And they know what you're up to. Fortunately, she hates you. She's the only other kid left alive, after all.]
Nonagesimus. [She calls out, and you can tell that she's delighted at the prospect of getting you in trouble.] Were you thinking of opening the tomb?
[Distantly, you'll be able to hear someone's voice through the harsh Ninth winds as you turn and face the only potential target of your rage.
"I didn't want to remember this place."]
no subject
And there's another voice, something else entirely, and Lacus-as-Lacus wishes she could listen more closely. ]
no subject
Golden gleaming eyes like tiny stars, unnatural and beautiful. Lipochrome.]
Did you go deaf or something? I guess if you're walking in through there, you've probably gone mad too.
[The tomb calls. The voice calls from inside.
'You held the sword aloft... Who held the sword? What was his name? Lacus...']
no subject
That isn't any concern of yours. Leave me be, Nav. There's something I need to do here.
[ Because that something is speaking to her. It's in her head and she wants to listen. ]