RELIC

tw -- family trauma, criminal activity, depression mentions.

Pre-Island Life {{ Backstory Headcanons }} 

Naomi had two sisters, both older than she, who were both seen as “failures”, or disappointments, in the eyes of her parents for different reasons. Each time one of her elder sisters slipped up, Naomi felt the pressure on her shoulders increase to perform better, to make up for the short-fallings of their behavior. This was clearly expected of her, even at a young age, and was enforced with doting & additional treats. For a long time, a strong resentment was harbored in young Naomi’s heart against her sisters - but it was hardly her fault. In order to keep Naomi motivated to behave well, she was all but isolated from her two older sisters, always intentionally left out of games & activities they would be involved in, since she was the ‘ baby ‘. Eventually, though, this resentment began to slowly melt, and turned into something more somber, and sad, more mourning the loss potential of strong sisterly bonds and family loyalty. This did not happen until many years into Naomi’s life, and didn’t even fully settle into her soul until after death. 

Born in Victoria, Australia, at the height of the industrial era for the bustling, social cities, she was born only two days before construction on the Sydney Harbor Bridge officially began. There was hope in the air, spirits were high, and the whole island was looking ahead to the future with bright eyes. Her parents were no different - immigrants, her father, estranged from his German family, heavily affiliated in the war, and the couple had done well. Both of Naomi’s sisters were born in Victoria, too, and by the time Naomi came to join the family, they were well enough established to be beyond the discomforts of poverty & the struggles of starting over in a new place. 

This did not mean, however, the Holmes were careless with their money whatsoever. They only had what they did by playing smart, and keeping their hustle going. By now, though, much of Naomi’s early years are beginning to fuzz out, and fade. Sleepless nights faded between nightmares and half-consciousness in the jungle, the repetition of loss so frequent it feels almost episodic by now… just under a hundred years, and the memories of the past blur, and fade, and all begin to shimmer brighter. So much pain of the past is forgotten with time - Naomi believes it truly does heal all wounds, though the true burden is being around long enough to bear the cost of the recovery. 

She doesn’t remember the pain she felt when her middle sister left, leaving her squarely in the sights of her parents, angry in their hearts with the feeling of abandonment after one by one, each daughter turned against them. One falls to a life of crime; almost disappearing one day, and Naomi has long since wondered whatever became of her, and her rebellion. The other married, and had children, but chose to hardly have contact with the family she left behind. Eventually, it was just Naomi, and she suddenly realized she would never support the expectations of three daughters purely on her own. 

Naomi tried her best, for far too long. She supported her parents, and turned a blind eye, and did as she was told - head down, mouth shut. They loved her, and they ensured her every need was met. They cried for her losses, and celebrated her success, but carried such ambition in their souls, it dragged her along with them.

The road grew dark, and Naomi knew the whispers that had begun to swirl around her father’s business dealings. She herself didn’t know what he was involved with - and purposefully kept her eyes and ears shut to it, refusing to allow her love for her parents to be tarnished. 

The pressure grew too much over the years, and she finally cracked, taking off for a life of her own. Marriage was something Naomi did want… but never had she been given the freedom to explore her own self, first. She’d been a dove in a cage, a parrot who only knew how to echo her elders, and with her sister back home - Naomi saw her escape. 

Island Life {{ Personality Headcanons }}

It was 62 years ago that Naomi found herself washed up here - and honestly, she doesn’t remember much from the beginning, just in vague flashes. 

Her time in the jungle changed her, visibly. Much more cold, a little more selfish, no longer aspiring of hope & trying to make the best of things. Naomi acts defeated, but still stands, and talks, very strong. The negativity surrounding her, she fears, is just a curse of immortality. 

Naomi worked as a nurse, and unlike many women her age in her area, she was extremely career driven. She left Victoria to work in Sydney for just shy of a decade, and ended up on her way to America, or at least had plans too exactly. Excellent in trauma situations, quick thinking, and emotionally removed enough to keep a calm head & make level decisions propelled her in the field despite the challenges of making it her own way. 

Very early on in her days here, Naomi spent a lot of time alone, with the water. It was her sense of peace, something familiar & like home, missing her island utopia of Australia, and wishing for lands to appear on the horizon. She found solace when in or around the sea, and mainly finds much comfort when in the presence of water. The Sea is her closest friend, even after all these years - the one thing she will never lose, the one thing who will never abandon her, the one thing that will never betray her. 

What do you remember last before landing here?

“I remember the waterfall,” Naomi blinked, confused by the sudden sense of stillness, of calm, that flooded over her body. Her flight was set to leave the next morning, just before noon, and she’d taken the day before to get her last love letter sent to the beautiful Australian scenery. The cliffs were slick, and uneven, full of jagged edges, but she’d felt inspired - encouraged to climb higher, see further, and touch the cool crash of the falls with her own fingers. 

“I remember… slipping, hitting my knee, and then… I remember falling,” Naomi sighed, her voice still steady, and turned to gaze out against this new world she’d found himself trapped in. 

“I remember the water. I think it was so cold-”

Now, she stopped, but her expression was something still unreadable. Like Naomi, herself, was trying to decide what was truly happening, and what she’d done wrong, and where. “I remember saying goodbye to my friends,” She continued, thinking back to the scones and sweet drinks shared with her closest co-workers, a breakfast of farewells and memories. Naomi was off to New York - accepting a job offer in a new, state-of-the-art hospital, and turning 40 in a couple of years had suddenly felt like it held so much promise. 

But suddenly, Naomi didn’t want to talk about that anymore. She didn’t want to think of the last moments before landing here - before the water closed in over her head, and the panic subsided. Even now, there was a void where panic had once been - like something was lost in the journey here. “I don’t think what I remember matters very much, does it?” 

And she would be correct, after all - Naomi didn’t know it, of course, but she could guess what a span of 62 unimaginable, unchanging years could do to a soul. What she once remembered as vivid detailed visions of her last day in normalcy would fade; would fracture and splinter, vague flashes and long, lost faint memories. 

Have you ever killed? If so: why? If not: could you?

Naomi stilled. “Never,” She answered, quickly, eager to get the sudden, perplexing feeling settle over her shoulders away from her. She worked as a nurse, and took an oath to save lives, never to take them. It was a private promise, made to herself, after watching the world cast so many victims to the wayside of fate, broken & bruised. 

Already, Naomi had whispered the Nightingale Oath to herself, readying for the journey across the seas, onwards to America. It was the final step in her plan - a grandiose escape, a reborn life, a revised version of existence, and a true form of freedom. Naomi had done well; she’d done much, but not nearly any of the things she wanted to do. 

America was going to change that, and she was going to change America, too, with the work of healing. 

But… mistakes had been made, all the same. Her eyes lowered, and now she found a new, horrible thought appearing in her mind. Was this place the penance of her mistakes, for her hubris? “I think it’s hard to answer that question honestly. It would, I believe, depend entirely on the situation and the resulting consequences. You know the trolley problem, right?” Naomi paused, waiting. Despite her parents' short-fallings, they had done well to ensure their daughters were brought up with a proper, classical education. Studies had been rigorous, and covered a variety of subjects, and Naomi had gone above and beyond in the subjects of Science and Math, digging into the evolution of mankind and the psychological advancements that continued to startle humanity. “If killing one could result in the rescue of many… I don’t know what I’d do.” 

“I don’t know,” Naomi repeated, a sigh.