As in, time might have passed, or gone backwards, for Morpheus, in between the times he was here? [ She purses her lips thoughtfully, nodding. ] Could be. I don't know, er, when he was from, the first time.
Is your friend the other person who's been here twice?
Yes. Now that we know that on returning home, we are returned to the same point from when we were taken, seemingly without any memory of our lives here, it makes as much sense as anything else that days or even years could separate us in the blink of an eye.
[ Sensible, certainly, if one doesn't...think about it for too long.
The second question, however, is followed with a slight headshake. ]
Ah, no, Lord Morpheus was the one I would have named should you have asked me first.
[ So they are down to knowing of 'one' for known amnesiac returns, but Vanessa already suspects there are plenty more without them or others knowing. ]
...I am beginning to suspect that I ought to make an announcement on the network. Lord Morpheus hadn't heard the news, either, but then it was only mentioned once at the last city meeting I attended, and for some reason few have spoken of it since.
[ Which is strange because it gave her a little bit of an existential crisis. They lose everything they know here. ]
One of our own, one of the very same who has known resurrection, was also returned home some weeks ago. There was no memory of the life here, and time then passed for her there before she awoke in the City once more. Upon arriving, her memories seemed to be back in order.
Her disappearance seemed to be different from the others, however, as I believe that her belongings did not disappear while she was gone.
Yes. Everyone has been...remarkably quiet about the entire matter.
[ At least, far more so than she would imagine. Shock and denial was her first guess, but it's been long enough now for most to recover. How has word not spread? ]
There is always the chance that it could have been something to never repeat, but...it is the most evidence we yet have of what happens to us on our return. [ Shaking her head, she'll lean back a bit on her stool with a small arch to stretch her back. These are not comfortable seats. ] There is only one way out of such an ouroboros, and everyone knows how to kill a serpent.
And so we trudge through the muck of tar and venom, and we search.
[ Far easier said than done, but keeping one another informed can only be a step in the right direction.
Once the notebook has been returned to her bag, she stands. With a little slip from the stool, Vanessa turns from the bar to have another of the subtlest stretches possible. The art here really does constantly seem to shift in the shadows, which is more fascinating to her than unnerving, and she stares at the nearest wall. ]
I suppose now you have my...number, as well, should you likewise need my assistance. Which is little but offering unfortunate information, thus far, but time will tell.
Don't sell yourself short. [ She holds up the hand with the spider ring. ] You've got a knack for finding jewelry, as well.
Er -- Miss Ives. [ It really does feel like talking to a schoolteacher, but when in the Victorian era. ] Thank you. I appreciate your perspective on it all.
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Is your friend the other person who's been here twice?
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[ Sensible, certainly, if one doesn't...think about it for too long.
The second question, however, is followed with a slight headshake. ]
Ah, no, Lord Morpheus was the one I would have named should you have asked me first.
[ So they are down to knowing of 'one' for known amnesiac returns, but Vanessa already suspects there are plenty more without them or others knowing. ]
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[ It will not! ]
Wait. How do we know we're returned to the moment we left? I'm not even sure I know what the moment I left was.
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[ Which is strange because it gave her a little bit of an existential crisis. They lose everything they know here. ]
One of our own, one of the very same who has known resurrection, was also returned home some weeks ago. There was no memory of the life here, and time then passed for her there before she awoke in the City once more. Upon arriving, her memories seemed to be back in order.
Her disappearance seemed to be different from the others, however, as I believe that her belongings did not disappear while she was gone.
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[ Her voice is flat. ]
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[ At least, far more so than she would imagine. Shock and denial was her first guess, but it's been long enough now for most to recover. How has word not spread? ]
There is always the chance that it could have been something to never repeat, but...it is the most evidence we yet have of what happens to us on our return. [ Shaking her head, she'll lean back a bit on her stool with a small arch to stretch her back. These are not comfortable seats. ] There is only one way out of such an ouroboros, and everyone knows how to kill a serpent.
[ Apologies, dear Crowley. ]
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[ She shivers, in spite of herself. What else is she missing? A lot, she's sure, but how do you know what you don't know? ]
Yeah, but you have to find the head first.
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[ Far easier said than done, but keeping one another informed can only be a step in the right direction.
Once the notebook has been returned to her bag, she stands. With a little slip from the stool, Vanessa turns from the bar to have another of the subtlest stretches possible. The art here really does constantly seem to shift in the shadows, which is more fascinating to her than unnerving, and she stares at the nearest wall. ]
I suppose now you have my...number, as well, should you likewise need my assistance. Which is little but offering unfortunate information, thus far, but time will tell.
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Er -- Miss Ives. [ It really does feel like talking to a schoolteacher, but when in the Victorian era. ] Thank you. I appreciate your perspective on it all.
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It was either a ring or the rabbit stew.
[ A jest, one would hope, though she's already turning to head for the door, so it may be difficult to tell. ]
Good evening, Constantine. Thank you for an enlightening encounter.
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[ Cool. She's going to give Vanessa a few minutes' head start and then take the rest of this bottle home to have an existential crisis in private. ]