thestormishere | ☈ strike #10 (video / action)

☈ strike #10 (video / action)

[ It's really just the icing on the cake that, after everything's that happened to Lightning here- trapped away from her home, failing her Focus by force, conscripted to fight in a war she has little stake in, turning Cie'th on the battlefield of all things... she's finally returned to Luceti, not a week following her eventual death like what's supposed to happen, but ten days after the fact instead. It's not as bad as it could be, of course, but it's definitely enough to cause worry in a way she really wouldn't approve of at all.

And not only that, but it's raining as well. It's quickly approaching evening, and huge drops are heard landing heavily on the pages of a 'recording' journal laying open somewhere outside... and then suddenly a shriek- not unlike another one heard two weeks earlier, although this time it's localized not far from the center of the village. A minute later, and anyone then paying attention to this particular 'video' will get treated to a rather erratic view of the sky, an overhead structure of some kind in passing, and the occasional fleeting glimpse of Lightning, wearing a white dress and with most of her hair plastered wetly to her face.

There's also the sound of ripping, as someone in a state of acute distress begins tearing the pages out of said journal in handfuls. Overlaid on that is the sound of heavy, uneven breathing, what sounds suspiciously like the occasional sob, and-- ]

Stop it. Stop it!

[ ... Obviously, Lightning is not well right now- a fact that is not only apparent over the journals, but in person as well. It's certainly not normal for a woman in what looks to be New Feather garb to be sitting in the middle of the school's playground in the rain, hunched over and trying her best to destroy her own journal. Please help? ]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Lightning wasn't a Cie'th for long, but... still, the amount of sorrow and regret and then that drive to attack were - and are - utterly overwhelming; that's more than enough to wreck someone's emotional control when forced to go through it.

And yet she's alive, and that's remarkable in itself. As a rule, l'Cie who fail? They don't get second chances. Ever.

Lightning just doesn't yet know what to do with hers. There's a long pause- really long, and though the sound of ripping isn't close enough to suggest she's still pulling pages out, it continues on in the background. And although there's something about this particular voice that makes her inclined to listen a little more, right now it's still extremely upsetting. Her voice shakes when she finally answers. ]

... Just shut up. Please...

I want to help. [Firm, insistent really--please, please don't brush her off. Or...is it more than just upset?

She's outside now with an umbrella, the rain making pattering sounds against its material.]

[ Lightning mutters something to herself that's too quiet for the journal to pick up, but... then pauses again for several weighty seconds and-- ]

Aerith. [ Suddenly she reappears, looking like... well, a wreck in the rain, and honestly every bit as distressed as she's been sounding. This is Aerith, though- Aerith, whose presence indicates... something. ] How--?

[She recognizes her. She responds. Things normally taken for granted, but right now they are a great relief about Lightning's condition. Which Aerith needs when the other woman looks so upset.]

It's okay, it's okay. [The calm tone is more important than the words. She thinks back to trying to soothe Cloud, smooth over his mental breakdowns. These moments feel a lot alike, her own emotions held in check.] You're back.

[It can't be too much longer to the park.]

Okay? [ Almost frantically, she shakes her head, speaking quickly. ] No, I-- no. I failed... I failed and I couldn't...! [ Again she shakes her head, like she's trying to clear it, and puts a hand over her heart--

Then abruptly goes blank so fast you'd think she'd been slapped. A moment later, the distress starts right back up, but she also leans away again, quickly standing without taking the journal with her.

Fortunately, she doesn't go far and shouldn't be hard to find, on account of the large number of ripped-out journal pages draped all over the ground in the vicinity. She's pretty much the picture of misery though, sitting and shivering on the steps of one of the playground structures with her Brand partially covered- at first, it might even look like it's gone entirely, but really, it's just all white instead of black and red now. As if it's been burned away. ]

No-- Lightning!

[...She's out of the journal's view, and Aerith's jog turns into a sprint over the remainder of the distance. By the time she gets to the park she's out of breath and beginning to get wet, the umbrella jostled too much to be effective cover.

But Lightning... Lightning is still here. She holds one hand to her heaving chest, waiting a few seconds to catch her breath before she approaches Lightning.]

Light, you didn't fail anything. Remember? You decided how you wanted to face it, and that's what you did. [She swallows as she recognizes her voice getting wavery. Still approaching with the umbrella, because Lightning desperately needs the cover.]

[ The attempt to talk her down is all well and good, but what Aerith says... doesn't seem to make sense to Lightning. For several beats she just looks up and stares at her in confusion, a hand curling into her own chest. ]

I need to... I didn't finish my Focus...

[ So yeah, of course she failed... that's why she turned Cie'th, right? Or rather, that's certainly what's on her mind-- regardless of what she believed beforehand, that regret of not getting her Focus done in time is what preoccupied her 'thoughts' when she was like that. Hence the conflict: she's got several ideas that seem to want dominion, but they also contradict each other. Will versus need. ]

[Hope had been largely neglecting his journal after first hearing the news about Lightning's seeming demise—he couldn't handle displaying his grief for everyone to see, again, nor did he retain any desire to see anyone else's face.

The scream does grab his attention, however, just like that horrifying sound he'd heard when she and Aerith were in the Battledome. And though he tells himself it has to be his mind playing tricks on him, he looks anyway. He hadn't anticipated what her return would be like - if it was even supposed to happen at all. If she'd be in pain or if she'd walk in their door like nothing ever happened, and then scold him for leaving the apartment a mess with boots chewed up all over.

It's the first glimpse, then the second, that has him tossing the journal aside without responding.

The door flies open and shut with a slam, rapid footfalls carrying him down the stairs. He'd recognized that place, because it was where he wanted to attend: the school.

Forget the rain. He doesn't even notice that he hadn't grabbed a jacket, or pulled on his boots.

Running as fast as he had before, nay, even faster—exerting so much of his lingering strength that he's sure his heart is going to give out at any moment, with the way it's jackhammering inside him—Hope tears down the pathway and cuts through the grass between the buildings as he seeks to get to that schoolyard as quickly as possible.

Nothing else matters, or exists.

He hesitates only when he draws near to see that Aerith had found her already, approaching her like a wounded animal with an umbrella and speaking calmly. He doesn't bother to compose himself the way she can, or give any respect to their conversation.

It's only a few heartbeats, but he moves past her and finally collapses to his knees in front of the stricken woman.]

... Light ... [It would be a shout, but his voice is raspy, barely above a whisper. Rain isn't the only thing that's dampened his face, though he'd like to pretend it is.]

Because your Focus is stupid-- [Like approaching a wounded animal is right, though that doesn't keep Aerith from being perfectly, bluntly frank about the idiocy of the Focus. Light needs some sense back: she didn't want that Focus, the fal'Cie did. She couldn't keep thinking the way they wanted!

Hope's arrival interrupts her, the pounding footsteps announcing his arrival. She looks back, frowning unhappily to see him disheveled and distraught. She moves aside, giving him space to be in front of Light, but stays close with the umbrella; with the wind and the rain, even she feels the cold in her bolero. This isn't good for either of them...]

Come on, Light. Let's get inside, hm? [She reaches out to touch the woman's arm.] You look like you hopped in the bath with your clothes on.

Edited 2011-03-15 04:00 (UTC)

Huh?

[ Again Lightning is confused, but that's as far as she gets before she notices those footsteps aren't a part of the rain and Hope blasts into the picture as well.

At first she just sits stunned, almost uncomprehending as her eyes move from teen to woman and back. With both of them there, her emotions threaten to overload completely under the pressure- that all-consuming grief and regret from being turned into a Cie'th seem to corrupt her perception of them as well: as careful as she tried to be, how her behavior before she died seems utterly insufficient, how much she's messed up in dealing with them...

How she's breaking her promise to Hope to get him home... and how if they stay here, the likelihood of him meeting the same fate she just went through is nearly a guarantee. ]

Oh no...

[ As upset as she already is, it's too much handle. Aerith touches her, and she abruptly loses it entirely, taking several frantic breaths and then-- she reaches for Hope like a woman drowning, grabbing hold of his shirt and roughly dragging him close enough to put arms around. Regardless, it's not him she starts talking to again, completely incoherent again, her voice and body shaking: ]

Aerith, we have-- it has to stop, it's...!

[The boy doesn't even protest, even if the sudden embrace comes as a surprise. He presses his face against her like a child would, squeezing his eyes shut against the onslaught of tears.

Lightning's broken words don't make any sense, but they sound far away anyhow. Like there's a fog between them. Hope brings a hand up to clutch at her forearm.]

...you don't... it's already over, Lightning. The draft's over.

[He's acutely aware of the ground beneath them now, cold and wet and barren—or at least, the latter is how it feels. Hope absently wraps an arm around his torso, shivering minutely from the chill in the air.]

W-we should... we should go... it's cold. We'll take care of you, okay?

[She doesn't respond to Lightning's plea at first, taking her hand back to herself. "it"... she's worried about Hope... "it" is...

How can I stop that? I couldn't stop yours...

She really, really hopes Raine can find a way to help.]

He's right. We're done fighting, you don't have to worry about that. Light, please. Let's go inside.

[ Lightning doesn't ever cling or shed tears where she can be seen... but it's hard to deny that's what she does now, eyes closed as she hangs onto Hope and his clothing like a lifeline. She barely listens to the response to her - or lack of a direct one, really - since needless to say her thoughts and emotions continue to careen out of control until she can't make sense out of them at all...

And then finally, they just seem to wear out and go mercifully dull, and she pulls in a few long breaths before looking aside and clenching her teeth. She doesn't object to the insistence to move and get out of the rain, but she also doesn't react towards doing so. Chances are they'll have to pull her. ]

[Moving isn't easy for him, a combination of exhaustion—both from the run and from barely sleeping—along with the cold. However, Hope finds enough strength within him to reach for Lightning's wrists, attempting to stand.]

Can you walk...?

[He alone isn't strong enough to actually guide her to her feet if she's still a dead weight, so he casts a glance in Aerith's direction in hopes that she'd aid him.]

You... you need to restore your strength, Lightning...

[LOL two tired mages lifting a soldier. At least Aerith's full-grown and been taking care of herself with Zack's mindfulness. She stoops behind Lightning, resting her umbrella on her shoulder and putting her hands under Lightning's arms so she can lift from the back as Hope lifts from the front. :|a]

Upsy-daisy. This is going to look really, really silly soon if you don't start using your feet, Light. Just a warning!

Yes... [ A flat, almost robotic reply from an extremely drained young woman, but she more or less makes good on it, getting her legs under her properly with their help. Technically there isn't anything wrong with her physically... it's just a matter of Lightning making herself do it.

... But wow, Hope seriously looks awful, and even with her mind buzzing blankly that bothers her, looking run-over and half-drowned herself as she stares at him without meeting his eyes. ]

[With Aerith's support, it's a lot easier, but the small spindly youth is still left even more exerted afterwards. He lifts a hand to wipe at his forehead, slowly gathering his wind and his wits back around him.

Taking one of Lightning's arms, he loops it around his thin shoulders in an attempt to be some kind of support for her to lean against. Even though it looks a bit silly - as Aerith had mentioned about them carrying her entirely - since he's so much shorter than her.]

Baldr... really missed you. [Hope's voice is a low, tired murmur, though there's a ghost of a smile as he tries to find something pleasant in order for them to ground themselves.]

Edited 2011-03-18 14:42 (UTC)

[Aerith lets go from the back once Light is standing on her own, though she hovers nearby in case she'll need support again and holds the umbrella steady, trying to cover all three of them as best as the umbrella will cover. She doesn't say anything, thinking. Lightning was worried about Hope's brand... but what about hers? Aerith hadn't seen it, but she had probably misjudged its height in her memory. She hadn't seen it since the battle simulation. (Or maybe she actually had seen part of it, and hadn't been able to distinguish it because of its burnt-out state and poor visibility.)

[ Baldr? For a moment, Lightning's mind goes to where the name had come from first, before she then realizes... oh right, the puppy. The puppy missed her because he's a puppy and of course he'd miss her while she was... gone and.... ]

How long... has it been?

[ She grips Hope's shoulder automatically, though apparently careful not to actually lean on him much. Despite the quiet emptiness of her voice, however, the question finally holds most of her normal inflection-- if only because this time she's understandable.

As for her Brand... the rainy weather and former soldier's pale skin probably don't make it all that obvious, no, but it's definitely there at least in part, the top half showing above the line of her dress- white and grey, with the edges and where the arrows had been fading out as if smeared. Truthfully, it actually looks more like a brand now. ]

[Hope bows his head at the question. How long has it been? He'd forgotten to count the days; Aerith had said she'd return within a week, but when she hadn't... the despair and confusion became too great. It was a wonder he could even function.

He was supposed to be stronger now, but the suddenness of having her ripped away had unsealed past ghosts. Hope wasn't ready for any of it. But who can ever really brace themselves against something as stark and uncompromising as death?

Willing away those morbid thoughts, Hope answers honestly,] I don't even know anymore. We're just... glad to have you back.

[His gaze lifts, shifting toward Aerith's direction, feeling his chest seize with guilt over how he'd flung the brunt of his pain and anger at her.]

Just a little over a week. [Week and a half.] Baldr's all right, but he's going to jump on you everywhere.

[Hope's eyes might find hers still sad, regretful that any of this happened, but the smile she gives when she notices his guilty expression is soft and sincere. It had hurt, but even then she had known it was said from grief and pain.]

It's like Hope said. What matters is you're back now. [She pauses...] Does it hurt at all?

[ Off-center as she is, Lightning can't help but want to apologize again at first... but then she really catches that- over a week: long enough for Hope to have lost track and for Aerith to answer unspecifically. For some reason, that's what grounds her. Not their assurances, but the thought that she was gone for too long and they were here without her.

And bizarrely, before she gets back to wondering about where her soul was for all that time and just how you were supposed to drag a Cie'th back to being human, she thinks: have they been feeding her dog the right amount? Has Hope been eating enough?

The sobering effect on her attitude is abrupt- when she answers there's a definite tinge of anger in her voice, and though at any other time and she'd probably be furious... it's a start. ]

Hurt? No. [ Her free hand goes to the altered Brand, ignoring the looks exchanged between the two in favor of putting on her own sour expression. ] If this is their doing--

I don't know. [Hope cuts in, looking weary and defeated. He can't help but follow the movement of her hand, noting the white, almost scorched looking markings that have faded against her skin.

Like Fang's, is his immediate thought, and then he realizes he's staring and jerks his head away with a nervous cough.]

—your brand, it's...

[Still there. But halted. What happens now?

Hope slips a hand behind his back, attempting to do so casually. His own brand had advanced already, so soon after it had on Pulse, this time from the shock of Lightning's disappearance. She's gone through too much. Time to delay this bit of news as long as possible.

Though if she came back, maybe he will too—

Hope shakes his head, attempting to banish those sorts of thoughts from his mind for the time being. He must be strong. Now that she's back, he can be. Again.]

But we don't know who did it, and neither of you about to start anything even if it was them. [Aerith's voice takes a hard tone, not meant to be mean but simply firm and directing.] You're both barefoot in the rain, for goodness' sake. If it doesn't hurt let's get inside. Then we can figure out how badly the Malnosso need to be pummeled... [... she lets out a breath, surreptitiously glancing at Hope.] Though I think it'd be better to just relax.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

☈ strike #10 (video / action)

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject