ATARAXION - contact.

[hostage]

SCI » 008 » 024

_“ Hey, it's me. Wait for the thing. _”

Comments

video > post-return

[amethysts]

Hey!

[Libby has her feed set up just so, after a few test videos. This has to be just right. She's on the ship, but unbloodied, unmarked--this is the 25th and nothing has happened yet. She's not wearing make-up and her piercings are out, hair arranged so the blue streak is hidden.]

So, you probably noticed I didn't come back on the shuttle.

[(She forgot to delete this. More important things came up. She forgot and her computer didn't.)

She draws her legs up on her bed and sits lotus-style, smiling brightly:] Yeah, that was on purpose. See, I figure--wicked hard for Loki to control me if I'm not on the fucking ship, right? You're off the hook. He has fuck all on you guys now, and fuck all on me.

Look, I-- [she hesitates] --if you miss me, I'm sorry. I'm wicked sorry. But--'kay, the thing is--I wasn't going to last long anyway. Not all the way to the end, if there even is an end. I got--it's a neurodegenerative disease. Terminal. I'm going to get sick and I'm going to die.

And that's okay. And this is better, yeah? You don't have to deal. I die here, and it's okay.

But I don't--that's not the point of this.

My name wasn't always Libby. Sort of obvious, but whatev. It used to be Wren. And--

[She glances down, biting her lip.]

I used to have a sister.

Well--I was her clone, technically, but same diff, yeah? Her name--her name was Larkspur. And she was amazing. Fuck, you'd have loved her. Everybody would have loved her. She was sweet and funny and amazing and just--

I really loved her. And since I'm going to die I want--I want someone to remember her. If you want to know what she looked like--well, just look at me. [She gestures at her naked face.] See--'kay. I haven't talked about this. But she died when she was sixteen and it--wasn't an accident.

Our owner, he had this thing. About not wanting us to get old. [Again, she looks away, tugging her sleeves over her hands.] I mean--you can guess why, I don't have to say it. Fucking pedophile fucker. That's why I'm sick. It's in my DNA. I'm not supposed to get old. So Larkspur got sick. And he killed her. No--no, he had her put down. Like a fucking dog. Like my sister was a fucking--like she was nothing.

[Libby scrubs at her face. She's not crying.]

And I want somebody to remember that she wasn't, 'kay? I want somebody to remember that my sister was amazing and I loved her and she didn't deserve that. She wasn't nothing. I'm not--

[Her voice cracks.]

That I wasn't nothing either. And I trust you, Jesse. I do. It's probably stupid, I barely even know you, but--I don't have anybody else. That I trust. And you're a good guy. So remember us, okay? That we weren't nothing. That Larkspur was the best person I ever knew and that I was this mouthy little bitch who really--really liked you.

I guess that's it. I don't know. You do whatev you want with my stuff. I'm leaving you my computer. It's got a bunch of old cartoons on it and whatev, a couple of games. Have fun with it, 'kay?

Bye.

[She leans forward and cuts the feed.]