STAIRWAY TO HEAVEN / discovery + injured

[bubblegum]

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!

[daniel]

He did not know the history of Goldenluxury Roux. He did not know the history of Caesar Cipher. He was too young, too detatched from the long list of names both famous and infamous that echoed in the Typhoon, the only connection he could make were the surnames that hung onto those who were still around to explain their significance, what they meant. He'd only heard the story of the pirate's fall, and the loss of her memory. He didn't know her before then, only seeing the kind woman that became the next sage, who sat and watched the fish with him. And that's all that mattered to him. 

Pretty lucky that the kid was always scouting the beach, unlucky for himself though, having to see more carnage. Albeit not as gruesome as the situations that unfolded before him at earlier times, but burns were no joke. Danny stopped dead in his tracks when he was sure he heard someone asking for help, a pathetic and meek little sound for sure. The scent of burnt fur was unpleasant, but it made sense to track it down instead of simply stand and grimace. He almost didn't recognize Goldie, taking a second to pick up on the aspects that were familiar. Those eyes were unmistakable, even for someone like himself who had only seen them so many times. She sure as hell needed some assistance, he was no medic of any sort, and calling out verbally was certainly off the table. But he could very well go with a classic signal of distress, more or less. If Danny had learned anything, it was he could certainly get everyone's attention with a bit of noise.

He regretted the fact he would have been louder if he was older, but he didn't exactly have a say in that matter. Doing what he could, Danny barked once, twice, into the unfitting stillnesss of the air, before coughing quietly a few times from the rumbling in his throat and use of a volume level he didn't really utilize often.

Perhaps he was just being panicky, or maybe it was due to the short span of time between the days, but he couldn't help but replay the image of his mother's still corpse in his back of his mind whenever he wrangled the courage to look at poor Goldenluxury, collapsed upon the sand like an over-toasted marshmallow. A sharp inhale, sharper exhale. He wouldn't be too late again, he wouldn't. He was here, actually witnessing someone that he could try to help, he was asking for guilt if he did nothing more. "I'm sorry for this, it looks like it hurts." His thought was more coherent than he could have ever been externally, gently attempting to grab hold of the caracal and pull her closer towards civilization, hoping maybe someone else could be able to help her.

// his thoughts are free for listenin'!

[glow=black,2,300][b]— ❤ —[/glow]

[ASVINI]

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DELDRACH AKAODON

[div style="max-width: 600px; height: 24px; background: #2F1313; padding: 5px; line-height: 15px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 12px; color: #673F3F;"][align=center] — [b]JAGLIONESS - TYPHOON - MEMBER - TAGS —

Memory was nothing but a twisted reality. What we think is collectively a correct narrative, could be completely skewed. Twos turned into fourteens, gold turns to coal, or even the direct opposite. Stone turns to water, letting and bleeding out into the universe. Goldie knew it- but Deldrach knew it as well. Being stuck within that den back in her father's pride, trapped between the wall and those snarling, blood red fangs, the deep red optics staring at her as she charged for his neck.

It was almost sickening. How he came back around, causing something off her stomach, causing Deldrach to feel off. But she couldn't detect him- not until it was too late, and someone was hurt because of her. It had been her fault, in the end, that that child- that kitten got harmed. It was a tongue biter, a wincer, a teeth grinder. She could tear out her fur about it year after year, but it couldn't change anything. So, to have her forget, Deldrach almost found relief in it. She lived without that pain.

She lived without guilt for all of five minutes. Laying up on the porch, on bed rest as ordered by Roan, the jaglioness found herself snoozing. Softly, easily. But the scent of toasted fur- no, signed, was heavy on the wind. The queen opened her eye slowly, before they flattened as the pair of scents belonging to the individuals followed. Her paws dug into the sand as she shot off of her porch, her figure thundering towards the pair.

She slid to a stop a few steps away, her heart thudding and her eye narrowed. ".. Fuck." She muttered to herself, looking at the pair of them. Not again. Not this again. Her jaw worked, before she stepped forward. Deldrach gently jerked her head towards Danny, before leaning her head down. She spoke before she grasped her- "Roan! Somebody get Roan!" She aimed to grasp the neck of the golden child, her mouth holding on tightly. Either between Danny and her, or her own, Deldrach would take her back towards the collection of huts.

// Her thoughts are free for listening as well!

[roan ;]

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｢ NOW THESE DAYS ARE GONE, I'M NOT SO SELF ASSURED ｣

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BIOGRAPHY —–—

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TOYHOUSE —–-—

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SOOTHSAYER –-—

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TYPHOON —–-—

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[td]

There once was a boy who had learned everything from the sea.

When Roan Ó Faoláin-Roux had first emerged into the broad world that was The Typhoon, he had no idea who he was meant to be. All he had known was that he wanted to see everything. Touch everything. Know everything. It was an impossible goal, but it was one that he wanted to strive for. Those first few days out had been... rough, to say the least. He had learned of allies and enemies he had never even known about before, and he had learned that his very existence would be an insult to some. Back then he had tried to give Greed the benefit of the doubt, but nowadays he could offer no such thing.

Through, all of it, though, there had been Goldie.

That wasn't to say that the rest of his family weren't important to him. Of course they were. Disastrously so. But his cousin had been – still was – someone that Roan had looked up to. It would've been impossible for him not to. After all, she had been the Captain of the entire group. She had seen more than he could ever even imagine, and he wanted to learn as much as he could from her. She was the daughter of the sea, and he wanted nothing more than to know her. And ultimately, he had gotten his wish. With every little exchange of words. Words of encouragement, of grief, of love... his life had been a roller coaster, ever since he had been just a child. He had not only lived to see The Typhoon thrive, but he had also lived to see his family fall. He would never forget the day he had seen Jaime's body – he doubted he ever even had a chance to.

Through all of it, though, there had been Goldie. Goldenluxury Roux was a steadying presence in the lives of everyone throughout The Typhoon, and Roan was far from the exception. He had always looked up to her, and she was even part of the reason why he had become a medic. He wanted to be able to help others, just like Goldie did every day. And had his job as a medic brought him hardship? Oh, most definitely. He wasn't sure he'd even be the person he was today if it wasn't for all of the suffering he had seen. Yet still... he was proud. He was glad that he had chosen to become a medic, and he had never even considered leaving the position behind. The one time he had even glanced sideways at retirement... it hadn't lasted more than a week. He had known he couldn't just turn his back on those that needed his help. And once again, Goldie had been the motivating factor in him deciding to keep his position. Her return from The Pitt all those months ago, and the anxiety he had felt... it had pushed him back where he belonged.

When he had found out Goldie's memories were gone? He had been devastated, really. It had been like a punch to the gut, to know that his cousin and the person who had taught him everything he strived for – intentionally or not – couldn't even remember his name. Yet still, he hadn't voiced that to her when she had woken up. Instead, he had merely been worried for her health, introducing himself and trying to relieve the pain that she felt. Some might've seen his actions as selfless, but they really couldn't have been more selfish. He needed Goldie in his life, and risking pushing her away over something she couldn't control? He couldn't take that. It would break him, more than anything else had.

It had taken a while for him to fully come to terms with Goldie's lack of memories, but he had managed. He had managed by spending every moment he could with her, getting to know her all over again, not only as a friend and someone he had learned a great deal from, but as a sister. She was family through and through, and even though it sometimes hurt to see the lack of recognition in her gaze... he could handle it. Because ultimately, Goldenluxury Roux was not the sum of her memories. Although her experiences had been important, they were not what made her herself. Goldenluxury Roux was Goldenluxury Roux because that was who she was, and nothing would change that. And that was good enough for Roan. Good enough for him to not fall apart, and good enough for him to grow even closer to her than before. Good enough to make her his sage, because he knew the great capacity that she had for helping others.

It was because of his trust in her that he felt no worries sending her out for herbs that day. He had figured she would enjoy a walk, and it wasn't as if he wanted to keep her cooped up in the temple with him all day. Perhaps it would've been for the best if he had, however. Then maybe... none of this would've happened. Maybe then she would be fine, and happy, and talking casually with him... he knew better than to think that way, though.

A frantic call of his name was almost never a good sign, and the soothsayer knew it. It came with the territory that he would be shouted over whenever anybody was injured, and Roan could immediately feel his heart sinking when Deldrach called for him. It didn't help that the smell of burnt fur and flesh lingered on the air, only serving to make his anxieties worse. With a short snarl from the back of his throat, the siamese turned to grab his satchel, his teeth digging into the cloth as he turned and ran, half sprinting and half stumbling in his frantic rush to reach his patient. Unfortunately, the sense of dread in his heart only grew heavier and heavier as he drew closer, and the scent of Goldie reached him. Deldrach, Danny, and Goldie... considering Deldrach had been the one to call out for him, that left only two possibilities, and neither were good.

When he finally drew close to the scene, his worst fears were realized. Although Goldie was in a different form, it would've been impossible for him to mistake her for anybody else. That gaze, bright and icy as always, was practically a trademark at this point. Even worse, the scent of someone else familiar lingered on the air. Caesar Cipher. For someone Roan had barely even ever met, he sure was number one on the soothsayer's hitlist. Feeling anger and worry bubbling up in his chest, Roan was quick to drop his satchel to the ground, his voice coming out rough and frantic as he dug through it, "Maldito Cipher. No puedo creer que hizo esto. Juro a Dios, si alguna vez lo veo, voy a rasgar sus tripas y agregarlas a la decoración de la puerta...¹" It had been a while since he had properly utilized his Spanish knowledge, but cussing out Caesar seemed like a perfectly good use of it.

With a heavy sigh, it wasn't long before Roan pulled out several things, including bandages, marigold, and chickweed, along with some comfrey root. As he began to prepare a poultice for Goldie's wounds, the feline found himself once again muttering, "Superarás esto, Goldie. Te lo prometo, estoy aquí para ti...²" It was doubtful that she would understand him much at the moment, given her collapsed and half-conscious state, but hopefully his comforting tone of voice would get through. Once the poultice was done, he carefully applied it to his paws, aiming to gently touch and treat the caracal's burn wounds with it. The marigold, chickweed, and comfrey root would hopefully help to ease the pain of the burns, as well as make sure they didn't get infected. Then, once the mixture was fully applied, he moved to cover the wounds with bandages, just to make sure they had even less of a chance to get infected. He then aimed to apply the last of the marigold to her more minor scratches, covering those up as well.

Curiously, Roan found that his stomach was churning, uncomfortably and anxiously. He knew it wasn't because of the other's injuries. After all, he had treated extensive burns and scratches many times before. However... it was different this time, when it was Goldie. Just as it had been different when he had been treating his mama, or Jaime, or Trygve... it hurt. However, he still attempted to keep his cool, even as his stomach twisted into knots and his heart sunk down into his stomach, wanting to hide from the outside world. He couldn't just hide away though, and he knew it. Turning his blue gaze towards Deldrach and Danny, the male managed to grit out, "C... Can one of you go and get her some water to drink? It'll help wash down the pain killers." Afterwards, he turned back to Goldie, reaching into his satchel and pulling out some dock, as well as some poppy seeds. He gently placed them in front of her, muttering in a soothing tone, "Goldie... I know you're hurting, but here. Please take these... they'll help ease your pain." Would it help to ease the pain of what had happened, though? Would it help to ease the fear this encounter would no doubt bring?

It was best not to think about that, though. So for the moment, he didn't. In fact, he tried not to think of anything at all. Instead, he just remained by Goldie's side, waiting to make sure she took the painkillers. There was nothing more that he could do, except wait for her to be brought back to the temple. Once they were there... he would do everything in his power to make sure that she was comfortable and recovering well, as he always did. As he always would do.

After all, that was what he had learned from her, the daughter of the sea.

( ¹ "Damned Cipher. I can't believe he did this. I swear to God, if I ever see him, I'm gonna tear out his guts and add them to the gate decoration..." (very roughly)
² "You'll overcome this, Goldie. I promise you, I'm here for you..." )[/td][/tr][/table]

[bubblegum]

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.