[ The memory is clear and bright, in the way that most terrifying experiences are, when you think them over.
You’ve just descended the stairs to the speakeasy of this Gentleman you’ve heard so much about, when a tabaxi turns to your group. She starts:
“Halt friends, I do not r— Lucien?” Her eyes widen in shock, but you still don’t know who she is, you’re racking your memory, but the name
The name makes you feel ill, all of a sudden, an itch at the back of your skull. There’s no time to consider it.
“It has been too long, two ye–”
“Far too long!”
“Two years!” She laughs, bright, hands still gripping your shoulders on either side, tightly, like an old, old friend. “Look at you! You grew out your hair! And you are covered in tattoos!”
There’s something in her expression that seems confused about this, as her eyes flit to your hands, your neck.
“We’ll catch up, we need a table, we need drinks for me and my compatriots.”
“Of course, you– these are your friends now?” She looks over your group, appraising, but then goes to do as you’ve asked. Drinks and a table.
You now get a better look up at the top, some skulking individuals with long dark cloaks and dark armor, carrying what looks almost like a heavy crossbow, but it’s a long, metal rod. You’ve only seen them in use here and there. A recently emerging technology that has been largely guarded within use of the empire itself.
The second she turns, you give Fjord - a green, half-orcish man, a little pat on the back and hiss a whisper at him. 
“I’m sorry, this is my nightmare, please just go with it? It’s Lucien.”
He simply looks a bit baffled in return. The tabaxi returns to the table, reaching her hands out for yours.
“Oh, too long.” She starts quickly, sitting up straighter, then her face suddenly turns apologetic. You see all the faces of your friends, twisted in confusion. They aren’t even trying to hide it.
“Nonagon. I apologize for using your old name. Nonagon, it is a pleasure to see you again.”
“Who can keep track these days? Again, a long story.” You manage to croak out. She doesn’t seem to notice. She just looks concerned.
“Nonagon, what happened? We watched you die.”
She looks expectant. As do the rest of them at the table. Jester, Fjord, Nott, Caleb, Beau. All of their eyes are trained on you. They all await your answer.
[For his own reasons, Childe's trying to be careful as well. He's not as avoidant as many others have been, but he hasn't exactly been jumping at the chance to peek into other people's heads, either. But he refuses to stay locked up in his room, and there's still indulging to be had, especially after waking up to the disappearance of his roommate. So hi, Molly--
--Ah.
Well. He doesn't want to be invasive, but ignoring it would seem... callous, perhaps. And Beau was there, which means...]
Family?
[His tone is gentle, somewhat. Curious, but not exceedingly so. If Molly doesn't want to talk about it, he'll respect it. But he remembers their conversation, from before Beau... y'know. It only seems right to ask.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
You’ve just descended the stairs to the speakeasy of this Gentleman you’ve heard so much about, when a tabaxi turns to your group. She starts:
“Halt friends, I do not r— Lucien?” Her eyes widen in shock, but you still don’t know who she is, you’re racking your memory, but the name
The name makes you feel ill, all of a sudden, an itch at the back of your skull. There’s no time to consider it.
“It has been too long, two ye–”
“Far too long!”
“Two years!” She laughs, bright, hands still gripping your shoulders on either side, tightly, like an old, old friend. “Look at you! You grew out your hair! And you are covered in tattoos!”
There’s something in her expression that seems confused about this, as her eyes flit to your hands, your neck.
“We’ll catch up, we need a table, we need drinks for me and my compatriots.”
“Of course, you– these are your friends now?” She looks over your group, appraising, but then goes to do as you’ve asked. Drinks and a table.
You now get a better look up at the top, some skulking individuals with long dark cloaks and dark armor, carrying what looks almost like a heavy crossbow, but it’s a long, metal rod. You’ve only seen them in use here and there. A recently emerging technology that has been largely guarded within use of the empire itself.
The second she turns, you give Fjord - a green, half-orcish man, a little pat on the back and hiss a whisper at him.

“I’m sorry, this is my nightmare, please just go with it? It’s Lucien.”
He simply looks a bit baffled in return. The tabaxi returns to the table, reaching her hands out for yours.
“Oh, too long.” She starts quickly, sitting up straighter, then her face suddenly turns apologetic. You see all the faces of your friends, twisted in confusion. They aren’t even trying to hide it.
“Nonagon. I apologize for using your old name. Nonagon, it is a pleasure to see you again.”
“Who can keep track these days? Again, a long story.” You manage to croak out. She doesn’t seem to notice. She just looks concerned.
“Nonagon, what happened? We watched you die.”
She looks expectant. As do the rest of them at the table. Jester, Fjord, Nott, Caleb, Beau. All of their eyes are trained on you. They all await your answer.
The memory fades. ]
no subject
--Ah.
Well. He doesn't want to be invasive, but ignoring it would seem... callous, perhaps. And Beau was there, which means...]
Family?
[His tone is gentle, somewhat. Curious, but not exceedingly so. If Molly doesn't want to talk about it, he'll respect it. But he remembers their conversation, from before Beau... y'know. It only seems right to ask.]
no subject
[A little more complicated than simple blood ties. Or exactly as complicated as blood ties?]
It-- Doesn't matter. I'm not that person. It was a case of mistaken identity.
no subject
[He gets the feeling it matters more than Molly would like to admit, though.]
Identity is a tricky thing. [Ha. Haha.] No harm done to you and yours, I hope.
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[Huff.]
. . . Most people are asking about the Tabaxi. Funny.
no subject
The cat creature? [Really? That's more interesting than "we watched you die"??]