Home: that's where the hurt is [Open]

[faceofboeshane]

If someone were to ask Jack Harkness why he'd turned the Sensorium into a perfect replica of the Boeshane Peninsula, he probably wouldn't be able to answer. Not a real answer, anyway -- he'd shrug, give his most charming smile, and say it seemed like a good idea at the time, and change the subject to something far more interesting.

The fact that it's been over two thousand years since he last saw home (even if most of that was spent in a seemingly endless cycle of suffocation and death -- and let's not think of that now) might have something to do with it, as might the fact that 21C Earth didn't have VR worth the name, and he was never one to keep pictures.

It's... strange, seeing the place he grew up again, with all that's happened. Strange seeing it so empty, too, without friends, family... Gray. But an AI wouldn't be the same.

An AI can't forgive.

So instead of engaging in more emotional self-flagellation than he is already, he's just stretched out on the gentle slope of a sand dune, watching the ocean. Remembering.

He'd welcome an interruption, even if he's not quite up to seeking anyone out at the moment.

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[six-of-eight.livejournal.com]

There was quiet sounds of movement coming down the slope of stand close to where Jack was at. When she had downloaded back into this ship most of her memories were locked away leaving open thoughts as to what mission God might have for her now here away from the Fleet and the others. The only ocean she had seen had been on the ruined planet the lost tribe had inhabited. To Caprica this... was perfection. Beauty. Something she had never seen before.

Standing not far off in her red dress (http://farm4.static.flickr.com/3295/3084116997_0d5bd5251c.jpg?v=0) instead of the living suit that had been provided, the Cylon let her bare toes wiggle into the warm grains of sand before speaking. "So unblimished by human hands. It's beautiful."

[faceofboeshane]

Jack smiles a little at that. "It really is. Granted, if you were to go far enough down that way," he points along the coast, "you'd find some settlements, farms, things like that. But the Boeshane colony was established on 'sound ecological principles, for a minimum of environmental impact'. If we could get by with leaving places alone like this, we did." They made him memorize passages of the colony charter when he was still going through his primary education. Funny how he still remembers, after all this time.

"Nice place to grow up, though, when we weren't being raided." No, it wasn't, he reminds himself. He nearly went crazy there, after that one raid, after he lost his father and his brother, and it was just him and his mother and the way she'd look away sometimes, so he wouldn't see the accusation in her eyes. Enlisted as soon as he could, just to get away from empty spaces like this, places where Gray should've been and wasn't.

But she doesn't need to know that, and enough time's passed that he can allow himself to look at the place through nostalgia-colored glasses.

"Captain Jack Harkness," he says, tilting his head in her direction with a grin. "And you are?"

[six-of-eight.livejournal.com]

Something tugged at her memory.

It was hard for her to tear her eyes away from the ocean to glance down the coast but the blond did, casting a now more curious gaze in the direction that Jack had pointed out. "Much more efficient that way," she replied, "unlike the Colonies." They had built their buildings so high and to proud, forgetting their roots back to the land that all the Tribes should have remembered. But, alas, things change.

Six managed to look back down to where Jack was at allowing a smile to cross her face. A little timid at first, but growing wider as the seconds pass. "Caprica." It was becoming easier to use that name now.

[anoldtrickster.livejournal.com]

"It's nice," Wednesday says, taking a seat a bit away on the sand.