You're holding Davesprite's memories now.
It's just a little bit fucked, and you're not sure how to deal. Time and time again, you'll remember something idly from your time - her time - your time on the golden ship, her time in the doomed timeline she returned from. Memories of things that set her apart from you, in ways that are downright irreconcilable. Or so you think, anyway. Obviously they're reconcileable enough if you haven't fully exploded into a million little pieces, or whatever it is you do when your brain is too full.
And this is to say fuck all of the severed head ostentatiously soaking into the ground before you. You're downright green with how envious this severed head's chill is, despite the fact that their memories are here too, swirling and dissolving like little cubes dissolving in tea. Goddamn. The worst part is that your problem is so insane you couldn't talk to anyone about it.
You're doing your best to talk around the thing that's actually bothering you. Some things never change. You'll have to do something about that eventually, but...
Maybe you should do something now as well.