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  • imPossible Future IC

     jack_spade updated 9 months ago 5 Members · 103 Posts
  • aria

    Member
    March 7, 2019 at 8:20 am

    [March 20th, 2331; Tintagel, Cornwall]

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  • aria

    Member
    May 17, 2019 at 10:58 am

    imPossible Futures

    [March 20th, 2331; Tintagel, Cornwall, Earth]

    With a swirling distortion of space Isaint stepped out of the planar portal on to terra firma for the first time in just over two centuries. Subjectively time had passed far far slower, in fact he had only spent what felt like a couple of months honing his skills in preparation for this moment, but now that he was back he felt the weight of years as he hadn’t done for a long time. He’d been old for an orc when he entered and longevity treatments would only go so far, now he felt crushingly old… but he had returned, and as he’d expected, dreaded even, the world had changed unrecognisably in his absence. He had emerged in a cavern beneath the Tintagel mound, or so he supposed, that is where he had first entered the fae realm at least. The flare of power from the astral journeying was even now fading from the lit runes inscribed on the rough stone walls around the chamber.

    The chamber was otherwise bare and he ruefully admitted to himself that he’d expected a warmer reception after giving up his life for this ideological errand for the Choir. Whether one bought in to their Pattern nonsense or not they were fragging persuasive, that’s dragons for you, and now he was back to save the world, again…

    As he climbed the tunnel out he took an assessment of his gear, it was all there as it should be…except his ‘link was trying to convince him that there was no matrix signal within reach. Although Tintagel had always been remote it was far from a matrix black spot and that did not bode well at all!

    ***

    The sward underfoot felt brittle and dusty rather than the lush green that he had left behind all that time ago…but it was the sky that had the most impact on him…it was clearly day time and yet the lurid pink clouds told of an unthinkable atmospheric change. The air smelt acidic and he was all too glad to snap the respirator in to place to cut out the metallic tang. The wind off the sea stirred what was left of the vegetation around the stone circle that had sprung from the top of the mound at the first pass of Haley’s Comet in the Sixth World.

    “So the sleeper has returned” said a voice behind him and Isaint spun, silently cursing his disorientation at the changes around him. Standing in the shadows of one of the great stones was a grey clad figure, until he realised that the grey was her body, a beautifully decorated polymer resin frame with advanced myomer muscle bundles…she had a name, a flower wasn’t it…daffodil? Lily…that was it, he’d met her before…

    ***

    #01

  • aria

    Member
    May 17, 2019 at 10:59 am

    [March 20th, 2331; The [i]Phoenix[/i], Dropship, High Earth Orbit]

    Alyce quietly cursed the delay, the Spring equinox was on them and if this was the year that Isaint finally returned then they were late. It was getting harder and harder to get back to the surface and not for the first time she questioned the Choir’s dogged insistence that this was the tenuous thread that could save them all. It wasn’t that she didn’t want to see her old friend again but those painful memories always resurfaced when she allowed them to and it had been such a long time… were it not for the records even her mutated brain would struggle to recall just what Isaint looked and sounded like.

    With a lurch the ship detached from the starjammer and began its precipitous charge towards the surface… it was too late to worry about it now, they were committed…

    ***

    #02

  • jack_spade

    Administrator
    May 17, 2019 at 11:15 am

    Isaint – albeit having aged – nonetheless had the speed of his magic and the experience of a lifetime of difficult situations at his disposal – even before his brain recognized the girl.
    A wry smile played around his lips behind the respirator:
    “Well, if Al is to believed, I shouldn’t claim that title. Call it the “Napper” has returned and you’d be closer to the truth.”
    He lowered the rifle he had unconsciously taken into firing position.
    “You are Lily, aren’t you? So was it worth for me to go to Regis Avalonis? Doesn’t look like the world fared too well in my absense, does it?”

  • mercy

    Member
    May 18, 2019 at 11:53 am

    [B]March 20th, 2331; The Phoenix, Dropship, High Earth Orbit[/B]

    The woman in seat 2A keeps mostly to herself during the descent, responding politely to questions from the very junior Lieutenant that had been tasked with seeing to the needs of the passengers. The flight was bare bones in comfort as it was supposed to be stealthy. The lieutenant has many things on his mind, but realizes that he needs to make some effort to see to the people in the cramped passenger compartment.

    The woman in seat 2A is not really certain how she had come to be convinced to even be on this drop shuttle. She had written off all contact with the Choir, Dragons, and anyone who even included words such as Pattern in their conversation for over two centuries. For the most part, the Choir has left her alone but they had been particularly persistent of late. The woman had returned four contact drones to them as burned out metal wrecks barely suitable for salvage and had refused to see the first three representatives. In fact, her Vory and EVO bodyguards had been pretty rough on them. The woman had learned long ago that mages were quite useful against other mages, as were various munitions and she was provided with for the best guards available to ensure her privacy. It had taken a personal visit from The Old One to get her attention. The background he told her was not anything she had not already heard from other sources, but he added some drek about saving the metaraces. She had almost lost her patience at that comment, barely restraining herself from trying to physically attack the dreadlocked man in front of her.

    While the woman was trying to decide if there was much of a chance that she and her guards would survive an attempt on the Dragon, The Old One had uttered the oldest phrase in the book of phrases; the one that goes something like “What would (insert a name here) want you to do?”, only he inserted a name that would give the woman pause to consider his question. He used the name, Grace, one of two names that he felt might give her a reason to listen to him.

    The name brought with it a flood of memories that the woman had long ago buried, apparently unsuccessfully, and she fought back tears and rage. “Don’t! You do not get to even speak her name to me. She was all that was good and kind in my life. She gave unconditionally without asking for more than my love.” By this time, the woman was almost yelling at the Dragon. “She was a better woman than I could ever be and she kept me on the straight and narrow path for years. She gave me comfort and love for decades and you are not allowed to use her name in such a pathetic attempt to sway my decision, so pardon the fuck out of me for not being bloody sympathetic to your cause!”

    She had continued in this manner for several minutes and The Old One had stood his ground against the verbal onslaught, waiting for an opportunity to say something. Finally, when it appeared that the woman had run out of things to say, he held up his hands as if in surrender. “My child, I apologize for invoking the name of someone whom you hold so dear, but that does not change the question any. What would she want you to do? What would be her advice to you? The return of strong magic to your world was too fast and the Horrors were quick to see a need to return. That could not be stopped but it could be delayed. You played an instrumental part in several missions that helped assure that there would be a chance of survival. Your part in the Pattern is not written complete yet. You still have a vital role to play in what is to happen. Believe me when I say that losing you to this self-imposed isolation was very painful for all of us, but we felt that you deserved your peace. Now that time is past and we need you if there is to be even a small chance to save others. The thread of the Pattern tells us that we have a chance to prevent what the Horrors are planning on doing. Despite your burying your head in the sand for two centuries, you should never believe that the Horrors have stopped looking for the remnants of metahumanity. What I need to tell you is seen as the only chance for us to survive.”

    The woman had paused in her tirade long enough to hear what The Old One was saying. Her initial thoughts were to refuse to listen to more of the Dragon’s words, but he had already said one of the words that would make her think about it. Her inner heart knows that Grace would have gladly sacrificed herself for the greater good of everyone else and would have encouraged her to do the same. She had shut her painful memories away in what she had hoped would be a locked section of her mutated brain. Not locked securely enough, it seemed, if one word would unlock all of that again.

    So the woman had listened to The Old One and had allowed herself to be convinced that she should go on another fragging mission for the Choir. Now, she finds herself on a drop shuttle back to Earth, to Cornwall of all places. She hoped that she might visit her home there, if it was still standing. The manor on the edge of the sea had been so much a part of her, that she had recreated it as her home on a distant planet. The newest terraforming technology was so good that she had made a small piece of the Cornish coast out of what was available on the planet. She allowed a small smile to pass across her lips; it is good to be rich and to have influential friends in both low and high places.

    The woman’s life after had been fruitful, as, even as she dropped all relations with the Choir she had concentrated on strengthening her ties to the Vory and to EVO. She had returned to her basic life as a surgeon and part time cello player. She had lived through the aging of her “family”, watching her adoptive daughters die while she still lived. The loss of Gemma had hit her very hard and she had nearly fallen completely into isolation, leaving Cornwall only to see to special patients and to play her cello on occasion. Only Grace’s love and Gem’s own adopted daughter had kept her sane. Aging had been kind to the woman, giving her a mature look that only seemed to enhance her beauty. She could have taken hundreds of lovers, but remained true to only Grace and her death at almost eighty had almost forced her into giving up, but she realized that was not what Grace had wanted. Her staff had taken on the roles of family and some of them were still involved with seeing to her needs through their many times removed grandchildren.

    Finding out that Isaint would be involved in this latest Choir scheme had sweetened the pot considerably for her. She had not given much thought to him or, indeed, to her other companions for many years and she wondered what he would look like and how he would receive her. So it is that the woman known as Alyce Krait found herself on a drop shuttle heading back into something that might finally give her some closure to her past.

    1

    • This reply was modified 10 months, 2 weeks ago by  mercy.
    • This reply was modified 10 months, 2 weeks ago by  mercy.
    • This reply was modified 10 months, 2 weeks ago by  mercy.
  • aria

    Member
    May 20, 2019 at 7:57 am

    [March 20th, 2331; Tintagel, Cornwall, Earth]

    “I’ve been called Lily, yes, although that was a long time ago now…” she replied

    “Nothing has fared well in a very long time, avoiding that was probably a good idea. Those of us who have lived through it don’t have very many happy memories to share. They came back, early, too early, but then you knew that was a probability otherwise why would you have hidden yourself away?

    We fought them, but might as well fight the tide coming in. Someone triggered a weapon that scorched the sky, they might even have done it themselves… now the Earth is gone, it was left to them and the rogue weapons that were deployed against them. There’s nothing for you here, you might want to head back to wherever it was that you were before?

    Whatever you do you had better consider doing it fast as your presence is going to draw them here like a moth to the flame. They can’t see me, but you blaze like a forest fire, and a word of caution, using mana will bring them faster. Can you feel it? I understand it should feel stronger, more alluring, but it is a trap. Nothing is without a price, and that is one you do not want to pay, not if you don’t have to…”

    ***

    [March 20th, 2331; The [i]Phoenix[/i], Dropship, High Earth Orbit]

    Alyce looked around the cabin at her fellow passengers on this insane trip. Sitting across from her were two very ordinary looking individuals in dark monastic looking clothing but she recognised the insignia pins on their black lapels… Patterners, the scary fanatics that were the militant arm of the Choir. She wondered, not for the first time, if this was what Silk had envisaged when Alyce had helped her create the order all that time ago. Unlike so many they had eschewed the technologies that allowed functional immortality in order to maintain their magical gifts. Like bright candles they lived intensely and then were snuffed out… so many had been lost fighting Them, but there always seemed to be at least one more ready to take up the beacon and follow the Old One in his relentless quest…

    The others, an eclectic bunch, were clearly freelancers, it was almost like her time amongst the runners of her past, taking the fight to the corporations. Here the foe would be, could be, far more insidious and deadly. Some of the horrors were mindless killing machines, but it was the others that had to really be guarded against, the ones that got inside your head…

    The pilot’s voice jolted her from her memories

    > We’re coming up on the automated defences, better hope they managed to get valid codes or we’ll be burnt out of the sky before we know what hit us…

    The batteries faced inwards, towards the Earth, established to stop anything from leaving the surface, or getting to it. The interdiction was complete, unless you knew the codes, she hoped to hell they were correct…

    ***

    #03

  • mercy

    Member
    May 20, 2019 at 11:04 am

    [B]Alyce
    March 20th, 2331; The Phoenix, Dropship, High Earth Orbit[/B]

    Alyce prepares for the landing, not really bothered about the chances of being blotted from the sky. The Choir had either got the codes or not and if not, her life would be over before she was aware it was happening. A small part of her wondered if she maybe wanted the codes to be wrong, but she shook off that thought, burying it deep. OK, so maybe she a bit more concerned about the codes than she was letting on. In any case, Alyce was putting on an outward appearance of calm as the shuttle raced towards its destination.

    2

  • jack_spade

    Administrator
    May 20, 2019 at 5:19 pm

    Isaint furrowed his brow. There was just a hint of salt and pepper in his hair now – and not one he had put their voluntarily:
    “I didn’t hide away. I was put in storage. You know, like Barabarossa and Arthur. They said, I’d be recalled when the choir will need my help the most.
    But I seem to have missed that point, don’t I. Fragging 250 years according to that watch. I was over there maybe five months – or five years. Hard to tell with that place.”
    Isaint’s voice went low at those last words as the realization of his situation hit him.
    “Frag. 250 years – how are you still alive? Clearly not everyone I knew is dead, but I probably shouldn’t hold my breath about Robyn, Rick and Al, should I?

    Anyway, let’s get a move on – where ever your headquarters are. That place here doesn’t feel particularly welcoming anymore.”

  • electric_muppet

    Member
    May 21, 2019 at 2:43 am

    A door at the back of the shuttle slid open and a figure floated through the cargo bay, a neat practiced aerial pirouette it settled in the a vacant web seat. Head bowed her heavily gloved hands deftly strapped herself in. She didn’t even look up as she locked her enormous rifle into the clip in the ceiling with familiar ease. Worrying, given that this was obviously a surplus Legion of God shuttle. Was she a GREL?
    Her clothing screamed Mars. The Beautiful worked leather boots, the cobbled together armour and the breather tube diving under the face scarf.
    She pulled the scarf away. Looking up from her labour
    “hi” she said with that all winning smile. Oh my lord she was so young. Too young to have those eyes of veteran.

  • aria

    Member
    May 22, 2019 at 10:28 am

    [March 20th, 2331; Tintagel, Cornwall, Earth]

    “Two hundred and eight to be precise, I have returned here every thirteenth year for the past five cycles expecting you to return, it seems that whatever thread of the Pattern you’ve tweaked has spat you back out now. My headquarters are too far away for you to make it on foot, either the horrors or the nano plagues would get you. Your friends should be returning for you from off world, they were meant to be here by now…

    As to my age, well there are apparently additional benefits to having ninety percent of your body replaced with cybernetic parts. Whatever they did when they created me they removed some of the genetic aging defects and programmed in longevity…almost as though they knew they’d need me around for a while. Humanity have found other innovative ways to cheat death while you’ve been away but unlike most, what you see here is the same body that you met centuries ago…”

    ***

    [March 20th, 2331; The [i]Phoenix[/i], Dropship, High Earth Orbit]

    > Hang on to your hats, we’re past the outer markers and still alive, beginning descent now

    And sure enough the dropship bucked as it entered the upper atmosphere and the small viewing ports glowed cherry red as the hull took the brunt of atmospheric re-entry. The precipitous descent crashed through lurid pink clouds that blotted out the sunlight and then they were hurtling towards the UK, the passengers being jostled by the rough ride.

    > Oh fraaa……

    There was a confused impression of wings for those paying close attention outside the view ports and then the controlled descent turned in to a hellish barrel roll and crushing gee force that ended in blackness…

    ***

    [March 20th, 2331; Tintagel, Cornwall, Earth]

    The scream of the dropship’s death knell was painfully loud as it plummeted out of the cloud cover and slammed in to the turbulent waters a couple of hundred meters off the shore.

    Not Lily shrugged “It would seem your friends don’t know how to fly. Can you swim?” and without waiting for an answer she set off down the cliff path towards the cove below them…
    ***

    #04

  • mercy

    Member
    May 22, 2019 at 10:52 am

    [B]Alyce
    March 20th, 2331; The Phoenix, Dropship, High Earth Orbit[/B]

    Alyce barely had time to nod to the woman who had sat down next to her before the ship entered the atmosphere and began bucking. Her automatic reaction was to reach for the flotation device the Lieutenant had provided her, as well as everyone else on the drop shuttle. Alyce had never gotten past her fear of open water and had put her device on as soon as it was given to her and had asked for a second one that she put about the gear bag stowed under her web seat. The Lieutenant had smiled and told her that she would not need them, but Alyce had only nodded as she put the flotation devices on. She kept her face inward while others in the compartment commented on the sky and the pink clouds.

    [B]March 20th, 2331; Crashed Dropship, Cornwall, Earth[/B]

    The scream of the pilot, followed closely be several people in the passenger compartment, alerted Alyce that something was wrong just before the shuttle began its first uncontrolled roll. Alyce grabs onto the webbing holding her in place with one hand while the other reaches for the hand carved wooden idol and the silver Orthodox cross on their chains about her neck. She has time to mutter some prayers to both the Christian God and the Voodoo Loa that the wooden idol and cross represent before the ship crashes into the water.

    Alyce wakes with a moan and a sharp pain across her chest where the webbing had strained to keep her in place. Some part of Alyce’s brain notes that the emergency hatches operate as intended even as the passenger compartment begins to fill with water from several shattered outer and inner plates. She quickly unclips the clasp that was holding her in and reaches for her neighbors to either side. Her hand lets her know that the man to her left is dead from a snapped neck, but she hears a low moan from the young girl to her right.

    Turning to face the woman, she begins moving her hands across her body, knowing that there is not much time before the craft fills with water. “I am a surgeon, dear. I am trying to see how badly injured you are. Can you move your fingers and toes?”

    03

  • electric_muppet

    Member
    May 22, 2019 at 1:07 pm

    “it’s fine I’m sure. God’s grace we better get ready to go” she girl reached for her weapon “shall we find who else is accompanying us on this journey?”
    She knew the answer already but they were all gods children whether they admitted it or not
    “we have to move before the cockpit bulkhead fails. Gab your weapons and stack at the door!” she bellowed

  • jack_spade

    Administrator
    May 22, 2019 at 1:47 pm

    “Oh, it’s going to be one of those days, is it?” Isaint started running after the girl putting on the helmet of his armor and feeling the seals snap tight. Reaching the shore is a lot easier when you have a micro wire handy as well as a convenient rock to teather it to. The water of the Celtic Sea was bone chilling cold, but the FBA kept the worst of it away and only a few strokes in he was no longer bothered by it.
    “Say whatever you want about Avalon, but it keeps you in mint condition.”
    The air supply allowed him to ignore the waves lapping at him and just dive through them. Still, he was tempted to just use his feather focus to levitate himself through the water, but then, that would likely have been a bad idea in the current climate.
    When he reached the bubbling oil spill he began to dive. Ultrasound worked best in the murky depts, so he relied on the sensor in his armor to guide him.
    Isaint had no idea how long it had been since the plane went down, but it felt like hours when he finally got into contact with the hull of the vehicle.
    ‘First things first’. With his balled fist he knocked on the hull, tapping out “Shave and a Haircut”, hoping for some response from someone alive inside.

  • mercy

    Member
    May 22, 2019 at 1:48 pm

    [B]Alyce
    March 20th, 2331; Crashed Dropship, Cornwall, Earth[/B]

    Alyce recognizes the Martial accent and replies in what she hopes is passable Martian. “Alright, but please let me know if you need any help later.”

    Alyce stands and reaches for her gear bag at her feet and the slightly odd-appearing shotgun in the rack above her head, which she slings across her shoulders. She casts about with her sensors to see if any of the other passengers are in need of help, moving to anyone who does and rendering what assistance she can. Sadly, her sensors indicate that several of the people in the compartment will not be leaving the craft.

    An over excited man opens one of the emergency exit doors, letting in even more water and causing some of the others to react in a similar fashion. Alyce shakes her head as she carefully maneuvers her bag in front of her and makes her way to the nearest exit. Suddenly, she hears a rapping on the outer hull of the shuttle. It is too rhythmic to be anything but a signal of some kind. She unslings her shotgun and taps the same signal on the ceiling.

    04

    • This reply was modified 10 months, 1 week ago by  mercy. Reason: Edited to respond to Jack's post, which came in as I was posting
  • jack_spade

    Administrator
    May 22, 2019 at 3:26 pm

    Isaint grimaced under his helmet. Someone was still alive – but probably not for long if you went by the rapidly escaping air bubbles.
    He kicked off again and tried to find an emergency hatch that was in a position that wouldn’t explosively flood the interior.
    The one he found looked warped and there was no time for sophisticated solution. So he just planted his feet firmly against the hull, pulled the emergency release and started to heave like a madmen against the hatch.
    Metal groaned and he felt as if any second his heart would explode or this fingers break. Slowly, oh so slowly, the hatch moved until it suddenly opened wide as the hinges came into a position to move freely again.
    His sensors noticed a week ultrasound pulse coming from within. Someone had had the sense to use sensors too.
    Isaint’s cloak floated behind him like a cloud as he swam in, breathing heavy.

  • electric_muppet

    Member
    May 22, 2019 at 5:26 pm

    The girl sling a pack over her shoulder and stood by the hatch, waiting till she was sure all those who could be ready were ready, she looked at the doctor who was ready at the back. The doctor shugged in answer and the girl heaved on the leaver and the door opened
    “go left! Go right! Go left!” she voice boomed push each person out if the door as the doctor paused she bellowed “go go GO!”
    She followed feeling for the toggle to release the emergency slide as a life raft. Her pack dragged her to the surface as the shuttles bulkhead finally gave way in groan of surrender.
    She padded her pack raft towards the bobbing heads

  • mercy

    Member
    May 22, 2019 at 5:46 pm

    [B]Alyce
    March 20th, 2331; Crashed Dropship, Cornwall, Earth[/B]

    Alyce is at the rear of the passenger compartment with two badly injured men when the Martian opens one of the working emergency hatches. Already, a couple of people had swum out of the first one and now several more went out the one opened by the girl. As Alyce and the two men with her slowly made their way to the open hatch, the shuttle groans and shifts, rolling to a position that would not allow the remaining few people to use it to exit the craft. Alyce tamps down a panic and works hard to calm the two men with her. She finds a few rebreathers in a compartment and passes them out. “These will last about thirty minutes, which should be long enough to find another way out. Stay calm.”

    Even as she says that, she hears some straining at an emergency hatch that is still in the right position to let them use it. She trudges through the water that is nearly chest deep now and tries to shift the lever on her side. It seems that the hinges are stuck, so she throws her weight and strength into trying to help whoever is on the other side. Given her weak strength, it is quite likely that she is not helping much, but at least she is doing something. By the time the hatch groans as if it may open, the water level in the compartment is neck deep and getting deeper. Alyce slips her helmet over her back and fastens it down, turning on the interior air tank and steps back as the door opens and a figure swims in. She holds up a hand and motions to the men near her, then thanks the man, telling him that they will need assistance getting out. Bending over, she grabs one of the men and heaves him to his feet. Checking that her gear bag is still attached to her by its chord, she moves through the emergency hatch and activates the flotation devices on herself, her gear, and the man she is with.

    Soon, she is on the surface and bobbing about, reaching out with her sensors to see where she might be. Sadly, she is too far from shore to “see” it and is a bit unsure of which way to turn. However, she does detect other people bobbing in the water and heads over to them, dragging the man and her gear bag.

    05

  • mercy

    Member
    May 23, 2019 at 10:41 am

    [B]Alyce
    March 20th, 2331; Open Water, Cornwall Coast, Earth[/B]

    Alyce tamps down her fear of open water and does everything she knows to calm the panic rising in her. It helps a lot that there are people that need her help as that allows her to focus on something other than being lost in open water with no shore in sight. Scanning the area, she notes that at least two of the passengers had been rational enough to bring life rafts with them when they exited and several others have gathered at them. The people inside the one that Alyce swims up to are more than willing to help her and her injured companion into the raft. She ties off her gear bag to the rear of the small raft and removes her helmet, sliding it onto her back. Her first words are to thank those on the raft for their help and the second is to ask if anyone needs any medical help. She does ask if anyone has seen the man who had helped open the door for her, mentioning that he would be with another injured man.

    06

  • electric_muppet

    Member
    May 23, 2019 at 1:11 pm

    She hauled herself on to the raft and carefully brought her pack on (didn’t want punctures see?)
    “we gonna have to walk home now I guess” she quipped “right who is injured and who is just banged up and soggy”
    She moved down the line of bedraggled people checking each one in turn making eye contact to judge their mental state as well as the truth of their health declaration. She reached the doctor
    ” no gonna die and everyone can walk but I’m guessing you’ll want my med pack” she smiled “you didn’t think I was going hump that ruddy great thing everywhere did you?” she said she stopped and closely considered the doctor for a moment
    “are you OK? Just banged up and belly full of water?”

  • jack_spade

    Administrator
    May 23, 2019 at 1:42 pm

    Before Alyce had a chance to answer the question, suddenly a black shadow appeared below them. With an enormous splash the black armor with the equally black cape shot up through the surface followed shortly by a deluge of bubbles.
    It quickly became apparent that he had surfed up underneath an equally black riot shield that now had released the air it had had trapped under it’s concave surface.
    A hand with a massive Roman cestus gripped the side of the raft, threatening to puncture the sturdy rubber.
    The visor opened a fraction and Isaint’s rough barriton could be heard: “Robyn!? Frag is it really you?
    Hey, has anyone of you seen a cyborg girl? Calls herself Lily.”

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