The fair is winding down and your friends are heading home. That's when you see him. A blonde boy with pretty eyes, alone. He looks lost, and tells you he's looking for his parents. The two of you try to find them, but there aren't any grown-ups around except for the carnival staff and security. The sun begins to set.
It seems like they won't be coming for him.
What's the harm in taking him home? There's plenty of room and more than enough food. Your parents have never refused when you've taken animals home. You take his hand, singing a children's song your mother taught you. When you arrive, your parents are hard at work. You know better than to bother them, and take the boy straight to your room.
You introduce him to your cats, Mister Stripes and Kitty, and your dog Steve— they're strays, just like him. You let him wash up, lend him some clean pajamas and settle in bed with him and your pets. You fall asleep holding his hand.
You wake up to your mother's hand on your head, and her telling you have you have to return the boy to his parents.
You start crying, clinging to him as you refuse, but your mother isn't swayed. Caring for a child isn't the same as caring for a pet, and this boy has his own family. She suggests exchanging letters with the boy when he gets home, and you give him your address before the police take him to find his parents.
It's the day of Treasure Heart's debut, on an idol show that features new and established acts. Qtiz (cuties) are the top girl group, so when you see that their dressing room is open, you make a point to greet them properly before you perform.
They smile, explaining that they'll be resting as they usher you roughly out of their room. They don't do it fast enough and the door slams on your foot hard.
You feel bones break. It's impossible to stand on, moreover dance. The pain takes the breath out of your lungs, and combined with the shock, you can't even think to scream or cry.
The girl who does it apologizes with a smile, and the girls behind her are grinning, but if she says she's sorry, you should believe her right? Your head's spinning from the pain, so you can't do more than nod. They leave you in the hall, your foot throbbing. You can't quit here, not when your unit's been working so hard for this moment. Not when this is the first step to getting _____ back.
A different pain washes over your foot, like there's needles in your veins. But suddenly the bones are knitting together, popping back into place. You can stand, but it feels like you're stepping on blades and broken glass. You remind yourself of a story your mother told you, about a mermaid who traded her tail for legs that felt the same pain. You force yourself to smile, and join your unit backstage.
"As I anticipated, Opal chose you to handle the Penacony case, but it seems... you've found a new ally."
She remarked, gesturing for them to take a seat on the ornate chairs. You can feel the warmth of the last visitor lingering on the cushion. "What do you need to collect bad debts owed by Penacony?" "Your Cornerstone." the young man replied, meeting her gaze. "Well, this is the first time anyone has asked for such a thing. What price will you pay in return?" she asks, a smile playing on her lips. "Our Cornerstones." the young lady replied. "And my life, too. I have no choice except that if I want to tear open a gash in Penacony," the young man adds. Your stomach twists. You know it's all part of his plan; you know his success rate— while not as high as yours— is one you'd put your faith in. After all, you don't put your support behind anything without carefully weighing the pros and cons. It's just cruel and unfair that things have to be taken this far. But you're both backed into a corner. This plan has to succeed.
It will succeed, if the woman before you agrees to help.
She considers your words and his and lets out a sigh. She places miniature model of Penacony on one end of the scale. "Each of us has our own beginnings and endings." On the other side of the scale, she places a large orange gemstone, bigger than the woman's palm. While you understand that a Cornerstone contains great power and should be protected at all costs, you don't waver. You wholeheartedly trust the woman before you and the man beside you with this tool more precious than your own life.
The woman continues: "This journey together may be long or short, but as long as we haven't reached the end, we must honor our contract."
A green gemstone joins the orange one. She goes on, "In this world, nothing is truly beyond value. Everything can be measured, leveraged, and traded..." Finally, another green stone, the woman's own, is placed on the scale, tipping the scales. "Now, let's trade them for the future of Penacony," she finishes.
Topaz is dictating a letter that her space pig companion is typing out for her:
Miss Bronya — if you'll permit me to call you that — I'd like to share a story with you from my own life.
In your eyes, the IPC may seem heartless or cruel, but in reality, we all have a story to tell. As for myself, I was born on a small, unremarkable planet at the edge of the galaxy — a place whose name is known only to the native inhabitants.
My home planet was extremely resource-poor. To survive, people worked laboriously, manufacturing products for other civilizations in the galaxy — mostly in the chemical or heavy industries.
Given these circumstances, the natural environment of my home planet became increasingly harsh. I don't recall the exact moment when it happened, but people started wearing respirators just to walk down the street. All you could hear were the wheezing coughs of the people — day and night.
My home was facing its demise. The relatively wealthy chose interstellar migration and started anew. The majority who stayed could only struggle on amidst sewage, acid rain, and dust, waiting for the end.
Finally, one fateful day, the IPC arrived on my home planet. They had the technology to repair our planet's damaged environment. In return for their help, they asked for just one thing — that all inhabitants sign a contract which would make them employees of the IPC.
Two years after signing the contract, the dark clouds and haze disappeared, and people began to take off their masks. After three years, vegetation and trees began to grow and thrive again. After five years, many animals — previously on the brink of extinction — reappeared.
When I was finally old enough, I officially became a member of the Strategic Investment Department. I witnessed the changes that took place on my home world and was determined to bring the same changes to many other worlds in the galaxy that were experiencing the same plight.
I am writing to you, Miss Bronya, with the genuine desire to express something important...
I know freedom is precious to people, but in reality there are things of much greater value... such as survival.
How many generations of Belobogians will it take to embrace the stars again without assistance? Who can guarantee that every future Guardian will be as prudent and enlightened as you? How can you guarantee that a disaster such as the Stellaron Crisis will not descend upon Belobog yet again?
I have already negotiated the best possible deal for you. Once you sign this contract, all of Belobog's debts will be forgiven. In addition, the IPC will set up a special team to support the reconstruction of Jarilo-VI.
I can understand that for you, this is an extremely difficult decision, because you, and you alone will bear the fate of all Belobogians.
But because of this, I believe that you will make the right decision — a decision that will truly benefit your people.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
AU Memories
Finding a Boy
It seems like they won't be coming for him.
What's the harm in taking him home? There's plenty of room and more than enough food. Your parents have never refused when you've taken animals home. You take his hand, singing a children's song your mother taught you. When you arrive, your parents are hard at work. You know better than to bother them, and take the boy straight to your room.
You introduce him to your cats, Mister Stripes and Kitty, and your dog Steve— they're strays, just like him. You let him wash up, lend him some clean pajamas and settle in bed with him and your pets. You fall asleep holding his hand.
You wake up to your mother's hand on your head, and her telling you have you have to return the boy to his parents.
You start crying, clinging to him as you refuse, but your mother isn't swayed. Caring for a child isn't the same as caring for a pet, and this boy has his own family. She suggests exchanging letters with the boy when he gets home, and you give him your address before the police take him to find his parents.
Sabotage
They smile, explaining that they'll be resting as they usher you roughly out of their room. They don't do it fast enough and the door slams on your foot hard.
You feel bones break. It's impossible to stand on, moreover dance. The pain takes the breath out of your lungs, and combined with the shock, you can't even think to scream or cry.
The girl who does it apologizes with a smile, and the girls behind her are grinning, but if she says she's sorry, you should believe her right? Your head's spinning from the pain, so you can't do more than nod. They leave you in the hall, your foot throbbing. You can't quit here, not when your unit's been working so hard for this moment. Not when this is the first step to getting _____ back.
A different pain washes over your foot, like there's needles in your veins. But suddenly the bones are knitting together, popping back into place. You can stand, but it feels like you're stepping on blades and broken glass. You remind yourself of a story your mother told you, about a mermaid who traded her tail for legs that felt the same pain. You force yourself to smile, and join your unit backstage.
Landfall Memory Event
"As I anticipated, Opal chose you to handle the Penacony case, but it seems... you've found a new ally."
She remarked, gesturing for them to take a seat on the ornate chairs. You can feel the warmth of the last visitor lingering on the cushion.
"What do you need to collect bad debts owed by Penacony?"
"Your Cornerstone." the young man replied, meeting her gaze.
"Well, this is the first time anyone has asked for such a thing. What price will you pay in return?" she asks, a smile playing on her lips.
"Our Cornerstones." the young lady replied.
"And my life, too. I have no choice except that if I want to tear open a gash in Penacony," the young man adds. Your stomach twists. You know it's all part of his plan; you know his success rate— while not as high as yours— is one you'd put your faith in. After all, you don't put your support behind anything without carefully weighing the pros and cons. It's just cruel and unfair that things have to be taken this far. But you're both backed into a corner. This plan has to succeed.
It will succeed, if the woman before you agrees to help.
She considers your words and his and lets out a sigh. She places miniature model of Penacony on one end of the scale.
"Each of us has our own beginnings and endings."
On the other side of the scale, she places a large orange gemstone, bigger than the woman's palm. While you understand that a Cornerstone contains great power and should be protected at all costs, you don't waver. You wholeheartedly trust the woman before you and the man beside you with this tool more precious than your own life.
The woman continues: "This journey together may be long or short, but as long as we haven't reached the end, we must honor our contract."
A green gemstone joins the orange one.
She goes on, "In this world, nothing is truly beyond value. Everything can be measured, leveraged, and traded..."
Finally, another green stone, the woman's own, is placed on the scale, tipping the scales.
"Now, let's trade them for the future of Penacony," she finishes.
Day 285 On the Beach - Topaz Backstory
Miss Bronya — if you'll permit me to call you that — I'd like to share a story with you from my own life.
In your eyes, the IPC may seem heartless or cruel, but in reality, we all have a story to tell. As for myself, I was born on a small, unremarkable planet at the edge of the galaxy — a place whose name is known only to the native inhabitants.
My home planet was extremely resource-poor. To survive, people worked laboriously, manufacturing products for other civilizations in the galaxy — mostly in the chemical or heavy industries.
Given these circumstances, the natural environment of my home planet became increasingly harsh. I don't recall the exact moment when it happened, but people started wearing respirators just to walk down the street. All you could hear were the wheezing coughs of the people — day and night.
My home was facing its demise. The relatively wealthy chose interstellar migration and started anew. The majority who stayed could only struggle on amidst sewage, acid rain, and dust, waiting for the end.
Finally, one fateful day, the IPC arrived on my home planet. They had the technology to repair our planet's damaged environment. In return for their help, they asked for just one thing — that all inhabitants sign a contract which would make them employees of the IPC.
Two years after signing the contract, the dark clouds and haze disappeared, and people began to take off their masks. After three years, vegetation and trees began to grow and thrive again. After five years, many animals — previously on the brink of extinction — reappeared.
When I was finally old enough, I officially became a member of the Strategic Investment Department. I witnessed the changes that took place on my home world and was determined to bring the same changes to many other worlds in the galaxy that were experiencing the same plight.
I am writing to you, Miss Bronya, with the genuine desire to express something important...
I know freedom is precious to people, but in reality there are things of much greater value... such as survival.
How many generations of Belobogians will it take to embrace the stars again without assistance? Who can guarantee that every future Guardian will be as prudent and enlightened as you? How can you guarantee that a disaster such as the Stellaron Crisis will not descend upon Belobog yet again?
I have already negotiated the best possible deal for you. Once you sign this contract, all of Belobog's debts will be forgiven. In addition, the IPC will set up a special team to support the reconstruction of Jarilo-VI.
I can understand that for you, this is an extremely difficult decision, because you, and you alone will bear the fate of all Belobogians.
But because of this, I believe that you will make the right decision — a decision that will truly benefit your people.