DEAR FRIEND as you know,  your flowers are withering
your mother's gone insane, your leaves have drifted away.
    but the clouds are clearing up
        and i've come reveling, burning incandescently,
                                              like a bastard on the burning sea.

YOU'RE JUST LIKE YOUR FATHER,
BURIED DEEP UNDER THE WATER.

*tldr at the end + permission to powerplay from maple

Goldie had been going on a short walk this morning, offering to go out and gather herbs for Roan around the island. They wouldn't be able to get everything just within the archipelago itself, but their supply wasn't terribly low, and she figured it could be good to get a head start on what she could gather for now. Maybe along the way she could visit Sea and ask her son if he wanted to join her. For the time being, though, she hummed quietly alone in the jungle. She'd opted to leave Derya at the temple for now, the parrot seeming a bit tired, and not minding some time completely alone for a little while. Just an hour or so of a walk with herself and the foliage. She should know better than this, though. She should have known better than to let the calm take her over.

Her walk would be interrupted about halfway through, a rustle in the leaves, and before she can even realize it, a savannah pouncing out at her. The female just barely dodges it, feeling the sharp claws scrape her side. Her eyes widen, basket around her neck flinging in her movement, causing some collected herbs to fall out. She looks over the other, feeling a familiarity in seeing him. But the dread she'd experienced the last time someone tried to kill her she'd known before everything had not entered her. She most certainly had known him before, but he did not make her feel so afraid. And this is what pushes her to speak up, before running. "Who are you?" She grits her teeth, watching carefully, paws twitching, ready to move if they needed to.

"What kind of stupid fucking question is that?" the yellow savannah would snap, tail twitching. It did cause him to cease his actions, just for a moment, a mixture of annoyance and curiosity seeming to distract him for now.

"I don' remember...anythin'..." she'd explain briefly, gesturing to her head. Fur had grown over the dent in her head, but the marks from it could still be seen if one focused on it enough.

To this, he stays quiet for a moment, before his expression changes. It becomes almost...intrigued. Almost thoughtful. As if an opportunity has presented itself to him. "Would you like to remember?"

There once was a girl who had forgotten everything.

Her gaze shifts, stance becomes less tense. Her eyes are questioning towards this remark. "More than almost anythin'," she'd respond earnestly, looking to the other with an almost curious gaze now. Though still her body remains mostly tense, cautious, unwilling to let down her guard completely. Which was probably for the best, given that he very clearly had violent intentions just moments before. But his question had peaked her interest, making her wonder why he would even offer such a concept.

"I knew you before." He would answer quickly, sharply. "I could try to show you..." he continued, flicking his tail, a paw reaching out, sharp claws still unsheathed. "If you let me in," he finishes, gesturing to her head. What exactly he meant she wasn't certain. She didn't know the full extent of powers regarding mental manipulation and the mind. She didn't know how it would work, but she wanted to try, instantly. She wanted it so much. She would nod, ever so slightly, sitting down. "Please." The tigress accepted quietly, looking to him.

There was many expectations she held for the life before, though there was no way she had to define it. She couldn't tell if it was good or not, if it was something she wanted to try and live up to, if she was even a good person before. She just knew that she'd done a lot, and that many either looked up to her for it, or hated her for it. But, she was sure it was worth something, to have been a part of it. To have witnessed it at any capacity. And maybe if she could remember it, many of her problems would be solved. Maybe she would not be so afraid, so foolish. Her body relaxes, and mind opens itself up for the other.

A body floats, a flower blossoming, swirling. Up, up, up it goes. Quickly it sways, from side to side. Its lost petals float around, some caught, some missed, some unable to be found entirely. Some burnt to a crisp, others simply scarred, cut, damaged, torn away. The lotus is aged and worn, not withered, new petals seeming to have grown where others had fallen off, but in its journey it gathers both fresh and old. Young petals, some without any bloom at all, simply green leaves cut before they could grow in full. And it starts to feel itself wake up.

"I just need you to sit in the middle of the room, and close your eyes. If you open them, the magic is lost." She could feel a burning lick at her sides, an electricity spark from her back, down to her paws. And a pain unlike any other shoots through her spine, numbing her legs. Blood all over, all over her paws, her back, her face. She is not who she is - a bengal cat, body scarred but not yet charred. This was an old Goldie, Goldenluxury Roux as she had been. Goldenluxury Roux when she had just almost figured out what that'd meant. Maybe she could know again, what the meaning of it was. Who she is. If she should be it. If it could take away the grief that came with her lost memories. If it could fill in the empty spaces, the pain she still experienced regardless of whether she knew why or not.

"Stay still, my darling, and everything will end just fine!"

The red dripping from her body, seemingly collapsing outside of her control, told her that she wasn't certain she wanted to know. Am I a bad person? her voice rings out, young, and shaky. A genuine question. The feeling of an overwhelming guilt and unsureness washes over her. The feeling of being watched, threatened. A white fuzz enters her ears, surrounds her vision. In front of her she can make out the yellow savannah cat, looking towards her with stern eyes. It pauses. Her struggling breaths can be heard somewhere behind her, then all around her. "No, Goldie, you're not." It answers, voice stable and logical. It was Caesar Cipher who spoke to her, the one shifting her mind. "You're not selfish. People are just cruel," he finishes. It seems as if there's more to it, but whatever it had been couldn't be reached. The words swish around in her senses, whispers of other voices chiming in, trying to assure the fear that had gripped the young feline. The threat was gone. There was nothing more to cry about.

But her life had been consistent at that point - that there would always be something going wrong. That with one threat gone, another arose. It was cause and effect, part of being who she was, and part of the act of murdering someone who belonged to an allegiance. And in that causation, she could feel her body stolen, her mind tampered with. They had seen this once before already. The lion whose head now hangs on the gate, who had fallen to her scimitar, had done this all before.

In a desert now, she can make out this much, a wild fight has broken out. The exact images are fuzzy, but she can make out the lion, the doberman, and the savannah. The latter two had come to rescue her, directly and indirectly. Their actions would take her home. Without thinking, her body jumps up, pushes forward towards the doberman. She wants him to stop, but isn't certain as to why. Distracted, his chest is struck, and it is her fault. She feels the blood run down her once again. It mixes in with a warmth, connected to the canine. A safety in his presence. And in turn Caesar would follow, the savannah, even if loosely, holding his loyalty to the pirates.

Who is she? That is the question of the day, and one the other had witnessed her answer, even if unaware. Over time, it would come to her. Though things were not so simple, not so easy now. He still held the knowledge, even if he didn't really know about it.

She had returned home, and once more, a burning sensation is felt. Though not so painful, her body instead taking in the warmth of it. Crackling flames, burning up an old, abandoned shack. Her eyes are angry, body welcoming the furious light. A figure walks up to her, she can barely make it out. It asks her a question, quietly, cautiously. Before she can reply to it, that savannah comes in once again. He answers the question quickly, "Leave her be." And in the silence they watched the flames. There was a relief in the fire she couldn't quite explain. Her body had been dragged from it, broken and battered. And the fear that had been attached to it was shattered with the crackling, rotten wood. The scent of old, dried blood sat in their senses.

Disjointed, strung together experiences continue to lull the flower upwards. She can hear yelling, in anger, in fear, in excitement. She can feel her form grow stronger and weaker, and she can just barely make out certain names, certain sounds, certain smells. The pressure of the water gets lighter and lighter the more she moves upward, a feeling of relief, something in her mind telling her that if she could only piece it together the feeling of pressure would be gone entirely. That's what she'd made herself believe, at least. If only she could remember, then maybe this would all be so much easier. If only she could resew the lost thread.

But there was a separate entity now. The ocean booms to her Stop this. in one simple, singular command. You are mistaken.

There is a girl who belongs to the sea.

There is a girl who has forgotten everything. And this shall not change today. Not tomorrow. And how they would see to it, not ever.

A small bengal cat kitten, scarred and disabled, sits next to a doberman. Papa, what's it like to die? she would ask gently, eyes looking up to the male. Her papa's icy cold eyes look out, chains are wrapped around his paws. She knew the answer already. "To die, it's a feeling of many emotions, I suppose. Is that what you felt, sweetie?" Her mouth opens to explain her own feelings, but no words come out. Water escapes her mouth as it opens, pouring down, a mixture of smoke exiting above it. "I love you with all my heart, Goldie. You're my greatest treasure. I am the proudest father in the world because of you." To this she goes quiet, simply leaning into his side for a few moments. We will be together again someday. She doesn't know how she knows this, but she's certain of it. But for now, once again, she is taken away.

Multiple voices are ringing out, different scenes seeming to play all at once, in some sort of desperation. The doberman sits at her side, comforts her. Her voice rings out to say something to her crewmates. Her claws sink into a stranger. The fire rips at her sides, swallows her screaming body whole. Her mind flashes to images of higher beings, of images to tidal waves, to the volcano erupting, lightning striking down at her lifeless body, and her mind separating itself. It detaches, and she can feel a static now, physically, emerging from her body. Her eyes open, a rumbling from the lightning protruding around her, shooting out towards anything around her.

I am a part of you, the ocean bounds to the flower. A part of you that cannot die. She could not escape it.

Her body shifts, she is in the present once more. The savannah in front of her moves back in reaction, teeth baring. An immense pain overwhelms her, a burning, and a drowning, and an ache that she could not explain. Her head lowers, body tensing. The electricity shoots out onto him, striking him, causing a hiss to emit from him. "The fuck is your problem?" he snarls out, now enraged by the outburst. The male would throw a fireball at her, directly hitting her chest. The female lets out a cry in pain, the burning sensation overtaking her. She feels her form change, becoming larger, waves pushing in around them, then it's shorter, the sight of dark brown stripes and spots coming together on golden fur until it finally lands on something else. Smaller paws, ears longer, nose rounder. A caracal collapses in front of him, still that same golden fur with that white belly, now a mixture of dark gray, darker orange, blues, and yellows marking her fur. Unintentionally, her mind reaches out, forces an illusion onto the other, changing his surroundings to be surrounded in fire, as if to distract him.

The feline lets out several coughs, gritting her teeth from the pain of her burns. Her paws shakily move her back to the exit of the jungle, once far enough away the projections taken off of Caesar, giving him room to escape. Her body stumbles, a headache forming and dizziness taking over. Her expression is zoned out, far away, a flash of shock within her eyes. "H-Help..." she'd call out meekly as she steps onto the beach, out into the open. She can feel her body collapse, her consciousness fading in and out. She looks different, but her eyes still reflect those icy blues and greens, her voice still has its sharp edge, fur still a golden sheen. Goldenluxury Roux always to be Goldenluxury Roux.

The true answer to who she was is something she already knew. She was danger. She was power. She was gold.

And most of all, she was the daughter to the sea.

And there she lay, chest burnt, mind spinning, powers new and old revealing themselves once more. And in it all, she just wanted to be held. She wanted to know that her life was something great, something meaningful. That her family was happy with who she was, and who she is now. That there was purpose to her survival. There was plenty of it, but she could feel the reassurance of knowing slipping. Her goal once more to figure out what her life was. To make things easier, to be courageous and strong like she always had been. But instead all she could do was keep herself from passing out, try to keep herself from being overwhelmed by the new and old knowledge swarming her mind.

tldr: caesar cipher attempts to ambush goldie in the jungle once more. she dodges his attack, asking who he is. she explains she doesn't remember anything, and he offers to help her, saying he knew her before. he manages to show her old memories, but broken up, confusing, and out of context; making him look kinder to her than he was. in the midst of it, they're interrupted by a voice. it causes her body to react, electric sparks shooting out from her and hitting caesar, as well as her body shifting, discovering she has shapeshifting. in response he gets angry and shoots a fireball at her chest, burning her. she projects an illusion on him to get away and manages to stumble onto the beach, half conscious, now in a caracal body.

INJURIES INCLUDE: first and second degree burns on her chest, minor scratches on her side

ALSO IMPORTANT NOTE: goldie's mental manipulation is much stronger in this body. she will be unintentionally projecting it without knowing - if you want your character's thoughts to be heard please state so oocly in your post!

DEAR FRIEND as you know,  your flowers are withering
your mother's gone insane, your leaves have drifted away.
    but the clouds are clearing up
        and i've come reveling, burning incandescently,
                                              like a bastard on the burning sea.

YOU'RE JUST LIKE YOUR FATHER,
BURIED DEEP UNDER THE WATER.

Words would hit her senses, a sensation that she was being dragged. The whirl into her head, spiral in with the new information flowing around, bouncing against the damaged and untouched parts of her head. They were right, it did hurt. Though the stinging of the large burn was one she found herself oddly familiar with, though unsure of why. Her body had been practiced for far worse. One of her first real injuries was a minor concussion, and then being struck by lightning, after having bled out in the middle of the sea. To say that Goldie's body memorized the feelings well would be an understatement. It's been through it all before. But her mind was fragile, hurt beyond full repair, and the information overloaded it. The vision of that wolf, the teeth, and blood, and Stryker struck out the most besides that savannah that'd wanted to kill her, and the original pirate captain.

Her eyes open ever so slightly for a moment, taking in the next form to grab ahold of her. What again? What was happening again? Had she done something wrong? She felt the swirling in her head continue, a beat from the headache coming on. The caracal grits her teeth firmer, knowing both from instinct and from her medical training that she was supposed to speak. It was the easiest way to keep her awake, to let others know what was wrong. "Again..?" she repeats in a whisper, unable to come up with coherent thoughts to form a sentence quite yet. She poses it as a question, unaware that it hadn't been said out loud. Things were much different than before though. But still the golden child felt the effects of it, fresh. The fear was still very real. And Roan would predict this, though her anxieties stemmed less so from the threat of Caesar and more so from the feelings of old memories, ones that even he did not know of. Goldenluxury Roux had seldom told stories revolving that part of her life. And if she did, they would certainly not be in depth.

The presence of her cousin did finally start to get her to wake herself up some more. She didn't want to cause any more trouble for them. A sentiment, that Goldie had funnily enough been repeating to herself since she was a kitten. Too bad you didn't always get what you wanted. Her jaw moves, ever so slightly, but the words that would escape her would not release from her maw. Instead, her mind would unintentionally attempt to project the simple message of "Sorry". That, too, would scatter, bounce around. The thoughts seemed to leak out of her head again, though this time she was able to retain new ones, and keep herself conscious. Her head had not been struck, her leg had long since healed over, and the only wounds she'd managed were the stinging she had experienced tenfold before.

The male spoke out, was clearly upset, offered his assurance. But it did not help the aching she felt in her chest like it usually would. He began his work, and she would slowly begin to open her eyes fully. Though her head did not seem to enjoy the sensation of light, she tried to focus her blurring vision onto those around her. Danny, Deldrach, and Roan. Danny, Deldrach, and Roan. He was speaking up again. Opening his mouth, asking someone to do something. Water. For pain killers. She'd part her mouth once more, a shaking paw pulling them closer to take them. An action she'd grown accustomed to for the migraines she'd suffered from before.

But there was a greater pain that they wouldn't fix, and her eyes would stare out in front of her, staring at nothing in particularly now. She focuses on her breathing, keeping it as stable as she could, though her body still shook. Her expression still seemed to be in shock.

"I..." she struggled out quietly, a quiver in her voice. "I want m' papa..." This may come as an odd inquiry, given how the man had been gone for as long as Goldie had been leader, and then some. Disappeared off to the bottom of the sea, though she hadn't totally known it. All she knew was that he was gone, and that it had left something in her she'd ignored for a long time, coped with by talking about him, by remembering the moments they had. But she didn't have those anymore. All she had were the scattered feelings, the meshed together memories that were only half hers. The only ones in the pirate group at the moment that would have even known him were her ma, and Deldrach. Maybe Diya too, but not well, and from the perspective of a former enemy. Technically, Goldie wasn't even supposed to remember her papa, let alone have the capacity to ask for him. But she'd been given what she'd asked for, even if in a disjointed fashion, cut off and interfered.

"Where i-is he?" her question is quiet, cautious, begging that anyone would know where he is. That anyone would be able to bring him to her. Perhaps it was selfish of her to beg for this now. She was fortunate to have the family she did now. It was more than most. But the safety in his presence, the warmth in his hold, she wanted to feel it, desperately. Even if her mind has only just been shown it again, in such a long time. Even if she'd convinced herself, before all of this, that she was okay with him gone. That she was okay, because she knew he'd come back someday. That he would hear of what she did, and that he would be proud. But, the truth was, that was just an excuse. Everything she'd done, she'd done it for him. And she wanted him to know it now. She wanted him to show her it was okay. But, she couldn't. There was an empty hole in her chest. She was connected to him in ways that transcend any words, but even that connection couldn't fill the lost presence he'd left. But she missed him, and she was scared, and she wanted to be with him. She wanted to have the moments again.