diademlogs | Everyone has to suffer

Entry tags:

Everyone has to suffer

Who: Shadowheart & Anyone!
Where: All around
When: February
What: Just some prompts and continued TDM things

Warnings: It's possible she'll talk about religious trauma.

General prompts below! Message me on theskyisnew discord/plurk if you want something specific!

Image taken from here.

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[ Shadowheart listens to him attentively as this truly is beyond her imagining. Even what he says seems far-fetched. Equality? Tolerance? She's never heard of the term democracy, but it must be something to do with those. Baldur's Gate has something of a republic with a few people in charge of everything, and then there's a nobility scale. Space travel is completely impossible as far as she knows, so the idea of planets talking to one another, she can't imagine. But she doesn't doubt him. He sounds truthful.

She picks up a button-up shirt that looks mostly fine, and tosses it at him. It should fit him. She has a good eye for that sort of thing, having traveled with people of all sizes, and they had packs of clothes for their travels.]

Our world is on the brink of destruction right now. I don't think us saving it will change anything about it. It's all of us against one destructive force. And getting anyone to agree on saving ourselves was not particularly easy.

[ So it's not something where they change big picture. They defeat the enemy and go back to the way things were. They gained allies, but they had to do something for each of them in able to count on them. Nothing comes for free, not like what paradise he's speaking of.]

I truly cannot imagine what you speak of. Traveling to other planets. We don't have cars let alone vehicles that can accomplish leaving to that degree. What do you do out there?

Edited 2026-02-06 19:32 (UTC)

[ He takes the shirt with a look that's part grateful, part apologetic. She did seem interested, but sometimes he can get excited about stuff. He spent his first couple days here too worried about sharing details of his world, only to realize that the Prime Directive doesn't really apply to a place where people from multiple universes converge.

... well, that and Jim's adherence to the Prime Directive is loose at best. ]

I'm sorry to hear that.

[ Not surprised, though. The truth is that things don't work out for every world out there that's deep in conflict, even within the same species. they've traveled enough to encounter the remnants of many civilizations lost to irreconcilable differences. Maybe there'd have been a chance to overcome it, but it would take a dramatic shift in mentality that doesn't happen everywhere the same way it happened on his version of Earth. ] But if there's one thing I know, is that so long as there are people willing to fight for it, a better future is always a possibility. Until the last moment, there's always hope.

[ He's not saying it's going to work out. Just that it's worth it to keep up the fight, to keep showing up. He'll never stop believing that.

He shrugs off his jacket and sweater so he can try on the button-up over the undershirt he's got on. Plaid wouldn't be his first choice, but it's warm and thick, and he finds that it fits him nicely. ]

I travel. I'm Captain of a starship. That's a vessel that's capable of traveling to different worlds and across great distances.

[ Shadowheart narrows her eyes when he speaks of a better future and hope, and an ugly part of her wants to berate him for such naivete. From the way it sounds, his people have taught him that fairness and honor are things that can be accomplished on a greater level, and she knows all too well that it's impossible. The majority of people will never change, and they would march to their deaths or give up rather than fight as one. She's seen it with her own eyes too many times.

As an acolyte of a death cult, she's been taught that hate and misery are natural emotions, and people therefore are made of them. If they spoke a few months earlier, she would have scoffed at him, or insulted him. Instead, after a brief consideration, she gives a small smile.]

You sound like someone I know. She is also unbearably optimistic.

[ Shadowheart cares deeply for Karlach though. There is no greater compliment she can offer than to compare a person to her. Karlach has had horrible things happen to her, and horrible things ahead of her, and yet she greets everything with a good attitude. It's so irritating, and so inspiring. She thinks the two of them would get along well.

The leather camp clothes she wears under the warm but ugly layers keep her modesty when she strips off the far too large pants, and pulls new ones over the leathers. It's still a bit large on her, but not likely to fall off without a belt. The warmth is the part that matters to her.]

A Captain. So you are a leader. And grounded here with the rest of us. That must chafe.

[ Wouldn't be the first time he's accused of being too optimistic, frankly. But Jim doesn't mind that. He's not naïve, though, he's well aware of the issues that exist in his own universe, and how very different other people's experiences he can be. He's had a privileged life in a number of aspects, but that doesn't mean that he's blind to the issues that exist. He simply believes that such things can be overcome. He's seen it and learned it before. ]

I know, it's one of my worst traits.

[ He gives her a wide smile, clearly joking, only because she makes that almost sound like a criticism. Friendly sort of criticism, though, the sort that he doesn't take to heart at all.

He lets out a chuckle at her last words, going back to searching through the clothes so he's not just staring at her while she changes. ]

Well, you don't need to rub it in. I know I'm stuck here. [ And he's clearly not happy about it, but he also knows it's no one else's fault, or problem. So he's not gonna be making that everyone else's issue by being an asshole. ]

If you meet a red-skinned woman over seven feet tall with horns, you should introduce yourself. Karlach is unfailingly cheerful, and she likes people.

[ That is the person she is comparing him to. Karlach stands out no matter where she is, but particularly here as she doesn't believe there are other tieflings here. But she, being a positive person, doesn't seem to mind. Shadowheart is unlike them in nature and in belief structure. There is not an optimistic shred in the shadows of her heart.

She is being friendly critical though. That's a true estimation. It's hard for her to know how to be nice to someone. It doesn't come easily. She's been writing off other people as useless all her life.

Damn that smile of his. It's inviting, again, like Karlach in her mind, and she manages not to scowl in response. Instead her small smile fades, but it doesn't go into a frown. It's neutral at best. She shrugs her slender shoulders.]

A leader would have a harder time with this than a follower, I would imagine. It's fine to hate it, I give you permission. [ That is also a wry joke, although her expression remains serious.]

We use our feet. We've walked all over the continent for our journeys.

[ Shadowheart shrugs. It's true they have done many, many steps, and gone very far with only that, but it's what is available. They certainly can't have multiple carriages for the whole group ready. They travel too much together. They would probably wear one out.

The car has been very annoying for her. She's ended up parking it and left there for quite some time now. She simply can't deal with it. Perhaps one of these days she'll get good at it, for she needs to travel to learn more about this land until they can escape.]

There are carriages, and we have magical portals called waypoints occasionally, but that is only to specific locations.

[ It is very helpful when backtracking though!]

What is a chocobo? A vehicle?

Edited 2026-02-06 19:26 (UTC)

After coming to Panorama finally and settling in, Shadowheart can be seen in a variety of places. She is now comfortable in the motel and checks out the vending machine, frowning as she looks at the unfamiliar names. She is uncertain what the snacks are as there is nothing like this where she comes from. "What is a bugle?" she might ask someone if they are nearby.

While she is getting somewhat used to driving now, she is still no expert. It would be easy to see her getting stalled out yet again in the street, banging on the steering wheel or getting out to bang on the top of the car instead. She's getting sick of this! She also may bump over the curb or park in a sideways position that is in no way within the lines. It's not to be an asshole, she simply is not any good at this.

It is not long before Shadowheart gets a job at the Brewed Awakening, a bar in the center of The Pavilion. An open sign points into it and there are always 80s songs being played in the background, although not all specifically from earth, but the sound is often dance or grunge. It's not fancy and very lived in, but it has decent ale and wine, and some very strong liquors that people should be careful drinking too much of. There Shadowheart can wear her camp clothes without concern of it being too cold like the outdoors.

"What do you want?" she'll ask the person at the bar. She's a bit icy, but she's willing to talk, especially if it's quiet and there is no one there. She will either try to engage in small talk, or she can be seen scribbling in a dusty journal at the corner of the bar, scowling at it like it's personally offending her. She may snap her fingers and a flame appears in her palm, so she can read better without the neon lights.

Edited 2026-02-06 19:01 (UTC)

Astarion, for his part, has frequented this little establishment a few times. At first it was because bars are premium hunting grounds for those who are a little too loose with their valuables. (And he is oh so very glad to have a different sort of prey than what he's been used to while "working", as it were.) But when Karlach began her own employment stint, he's made a point to drop by and try to get preferential treatment. Because why not?

Use every advantage that you can.

And as far as music goes in this place, it's leagues above the racket he put up with at that 'rave'. Gods, whatever that excuse for music was will haunt him for years to come, he's certain.

He saunters in like he owns the place, even when Karlach isn't manning the door. Though he's been forced to adapt his fashion sensibilities to more modern constraints, he still strives to look like he's wroth knowing, even if he refuses to give everyone the time of day. Unfortunately for Shadowheart, she's one of the exceptions.

"Well, well, look at you," he says as he slides onto one of the bar stools. "It's barely been a tenday and you've already found yourself a cozy little side-job."

In the start, the music bothered her quite a bit, because it was quite a bit louder than what she's used to. But against her will, she might admit that it is growing on her. It's more interesting than what a harp and flute can accomplish. She is still currently in training, so she is not trusted to create the more complicated mixed drinks, but she can handle the straightforward options. It was encouraged to flirt a little for better tips from well-meaning others, but Shadowheart would rather eat glass.

It is quiet at the moment, one of the reasons Karlach isn't currently there, as it is an off-hour. Soon enough it won't be, but she is decent enough at the mundane aspects like cleaning and organizing. Shadowheart notices him come in, as she is likely to check the door if it opens, and her sometimes severe expression softens. A tad. She would never admit how appreciative she is that her companions are here. When she first arrived, after all their time together, the idea of being alone in this strange place felt overwhelming.

"I don't have quick enough hands to make coin another way." She is scavenging though, it has been lucrative, but not as steady. She gives him a once over with skeptical green eyes. "I don't think your shirt is cut low enough. It might as well be all the way down to your undergarments."

Quick enough hands? Astarion smiles 'innocently' at the implication as he leans forward on the counter, resting his chin on the back of his hand. He hasn't exactly implied that he has a more honest line of work in this world, nor does he intend to.

"If you're looking for a tutor, you could simply ask."

It doesn't mean he would agree to it, but for Shadowheart? He would make the effort. To a degree. Her skills certainly lie elsewhere, but he would never begrudge her for wanting to be her own boss, in a way. He can't imagine taking orders from any one else here. (Nevermind that both she and Karlach have done their fair share of successfully bossing him around, shh.)

"It's called fashion, darling. And while your hair is an improvement, you've still got a long way to go." He runs his other hand through his hair, flipping a few curls out of his eyes with a dramatic flair.

"And in turn I'm sure I've earned a drink on the house for the advice, hm?"

Astarion doesn't actually believe it, but Shadowheart is going to have to get used to this. What's the point in working in a bar if you can't skim off the top?

"Perhaps I shall. It appears that any number of tricks could be useful in this damned place."

Typically Shadowheart would not bother with the idea, because she doesn't like thieves outside of Astarion, but she is living in a survival situation right now. She is willing to learn and do many things in able to keep her and her companions thriving, until they can find a way out of here. Any qualms she had before are softening or being dropped.

"Again, the hair had nothing to do with you. It was in honor of my parents, and my discarding of Shar." It's irritating to her to imply otherwise. As if she would do something like dye her hair out of a desire to look good. She just happens to look good in every hair color. It wasn't vanity, it was symbolic. She is still hurting over that, and at the time it was the only thing she could think of.

"That's why you're actually here, then." She rolls her eyes. "I am to be your thirst provider." Shadowheart says this sharply, but as per usual with her (and them), she does it at the same time as getting him a vintage of wine that she knows he will like. So she's doing it. But she's going to be snotty about it. She pours him a glass.

"Hmm, I'm pretty sure it's some kind of trumpet, but...don't quote me on that."

Standing nearby is a woman Shadowheart will recognize: Sciel, from the laundromat, who is leaning against he side of the vending machine and grinning. When her fellow fluxdrift notices her, the Expedition straightens up, uncrossing her arms, and steps alongside Shadowheart to peer into the machine.

"Granted, I...have never heard of any of these," she admits, cocking her head curiously as she sweeps the offered snacks (not for the first time). "So, if you've had anything good, I'd appreciate the tip."

Shadowheart sensed someone nearby before she spoke so she isn't startled, but recognizing the woman is new. She tenses when other people come near her, so her relaxing when Sciel speaks is indicative of being around someone she doesn't mind seeing. She respectfully tips her head in Sciel's direction. Grinning like before, all warmth and good manner. At least Shadowheart is more ready for it this time than when she was confused by laundry magic.

"Perhaps they are shaped like a trumpet, thus the name." Shadowheart does not seen any shape on the package, so she will just have to put her coin in and find out. She wanted a snack of some kind, so hopefully it is tasty. She is not a picky eater; they have to eat a wide variety of things on the road that may not be to her liking. But you eat what is put in front of you on a mission.

The vending machine drops the Bugle bag to the bottom after she keys in the right number with a coin, and she leans down to frisk it out. She opens it up and dips a finger in, pulling out a horn-shaped chip. Shadowheart doesn't often feel like laughing, but she does smile faintly.

"It looks like you were right." She offers Sciel the bag, if she would like some. Apparently Shadowheart is in a sharing mood.

Shadowheart is new to exploring the Fringes, and while she is still terrible at driving a car, sometimes swerving in the road or going too slowly, she manages when there is nothing forcing her to stay in one place like in the city. She is hoping to find some answers out here about how to return, or even looking for a portal herself to observe. Eventually she finds her way into the wedding, parking sideways outside and stepping inside.

She is intrigued by the set up and also by the smell of food in the air. She's been driving for hours, so it seems worth looking into. She will take food where she can get it, especially if it's free. Maybe you're coming upon the scene at the same time she is, and she glances over, shrugging one shoulder. "Might as well check it out, mmm?" Normally she prefers being alone, but perhaps this one time won't be all that bad.

When the ghostly apparitions appear as a wedding made of ghosts, Shadowheart's eyes widen, and she watches everyone go about the story without any notice of her and anyone else there. She picks up some food from the catered table though and makes herself a nice little plate, finding a glass of wine too, and she stands there, casually watching as the fistfight begins. "My money's on the petite blonde. It's usually the little ones who surprise you."

Still, when the murder happens, Shadowheart is genuinely startled, and she sets down her food to hurry over to the groom bleeding. Despite it being a ghost, her instinct is to put her hands on him, and her fingers glow with magic as she tries to heal him. Unfortunately, it does not work, and she frowns as the ghost dies next to her. "Always a shame when there's nothing you can do," she murmurs, getting up. ...but she goes right back to her plate. In the end, she stores as much food as she can, picks up a few chairs to sell, and brings them back to her car.

Shadowheart ends up at the flower cart, and she picks up a flower that looks very similar to her very favorite, a Night Orchid. It's not one, but it reminds her of it, and she holds it in her hand, smelling it. She smiles, her severe expression softening for a moment, but she sighs and hands it back. "I don't have the coin, I'm afraid." Maybe you can buy her one or ask about flowers.

Edited 2026-02-08 01:48 (UTC)

continued from.

It’s a slightly agonising process, wrestling with the manual gears, but it turns out Lune is decent enough as a teacher. Her mannerisms are straightforward and matter-of-fact, and her tidy mechanical mind has fully absorbed how to do this: press here, apply pressure with your foot, move the stick now.

So Shadowheart gets a refresher course in driving and navigating the stalling engine — it helps that the cleric’s actually forced to stick with the lesson this time, and not toss her new teacher out the passenger door — until she’s eventually able to wrangle it by herself a little better. Lune returns to her truckette to drive ahead of the Porsche, and they trundle their way towards Panorama proper before pausing at the edge of the city limits.

“Do you know where you’re headed?” Lune asks, sticking her head back out the window, looking over at the other driver.

She hasn’t exactly been here for a very long time herself. She remembers well what it was like, being so new and lost at sea, in need of a friendly face. (Maybe she’s projecting on the other woman, a little.)

Shadowheart is stubborn and easily frustrated, but she is far more willing to let a woman tell her what to do than a man. She's taken her orders exclusively by women at this point in her life, so she's more open to it. They manage to make the car work after a few iffy attempts, and she is genuinely pleased when she doesn't stall out again. In fact, they make it all the way to the city, and she did not destroy the car. It was better than she expected. She doesn't know how she'll drive in actual roads though. That'll be problem #2.

She pauses at the edge of the city limits, and in truth, she's terrified. Now that the car problem has been solved, she realizes she is about to walk (drive) into a completely unknown situation. No allies, no knowledge, no experience. Shadowheart has to simply make her own choices and try to live with that. It's so much worse than following orders. She wants orders, any orders (not Shar). Someone to put her down a road and say go there. It's embarrassing how much she wants that, deep down in her stomach.

Very little of that shows on her expression. She's been schooled in having something of a resting somber face, too serious by half, but perhaps an observant person would see her hands tightening on the wheel, her lips pressing tightly together, and her green eyes darting back and forth, observing the path ahead.

"No, but ... I suppose I do what I would do back home. Find shelter. Food, water, get a sense of where I'm stuck. And a plan to get out of here, eventually." Shadowheart will not give up on that any time soon. She cannot stay here. Even when she finds her companions, she will be stubborn about this. She takes a deep breath in and lets it out, glancing over to Lune. "Do they have camping grounds here?" She doesn't think of an inn first. They sleep on the ground in her group.

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