thestormishere | ☈ strike #13 (action / voice)

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☈ strike #13 (action / voice)

[ Today, Lightning's doing something fairly unusual in comparison to her normal - and recently even darker than normal - behavior. For once, she's outside and yet doesn't seem busy, merely watching as her puppy Baldr frolics about in the general area of community housing 4 in search of sticks to defeat, things to dig up, and nearby people to greet. In fact, the young woman and dog look pretty safe to come 'visit' with today- especially since there's also no gunblade in sight, and as she sits down to lean against the outside wall, she makes a pretty inane-seeming public message. ]

These seasons... usually last about three months each, right? How much warmer does it get?

-- Filtered to Sigmund --

Sigmund. About earlier... when and where?

-- - --

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Yeah, I know.

Very well.

[And some hours later he'll gather up a couple books about lunaglyphs (somewhat useful), his own handwritten notes (much more useful), and the best of his attempts at a suppressant (...he's working on it). Expect him, as usual, after sunset - or more accurately, after moonrise. Force of habit?]

[ Lightning's quickly beginning to catch on to said habits- it's not like she has much room to judge though, considering some of her own. If nothing else, at least it makes him consistent.

And both she and Hope will be where they'd said, although Lightning at least is actually waiting outside of the apartment. If she was still inside she'd just end up pacing, after all, and she already learned a long time ago that that tends to help very little when it comes to the stress levels of those around her. Nobody needs that. ]

[When he sees her, he greets her with a tiny nod. Even if his arms weren't full of books, that's all she'd get anyway. He tilts his head to indicate that she should lead him inside. He's not one for small talk.]

[Out of nerves, he decided to wait inside. People would probably stare or ask dumb questions if they saw him and Lightning both standing outside their door, anyway, and he really isn't in the mood for that.

So the kid's inside, pacing like his flatmate would have, ignoring the dog's attempts to try and get him to play - even when Baldr resorts to snatching up one of his boots and happily going to town. Yes, he could have simply locked their pet away... but even if Hope wouldn't admit it out loud: he doesn't want to see anyone else, but he doesn't want to wait on his own, either.

Of course, the approaching footsteps cause the puppy to stop his chewing and slobbering, rushing to the door excitedly.]

[With a sigh, Hope walks over to the door, a hand coming down to grasp at Baldr's collar.] ... stop it, Baldr. [His voice is quiet and even, almost monotonous as he cracks the door open in anticipation.]

[ Lightning's greeting is just as sparse- is she grateful for Sigmund agreeing to try and help? You bet. At the same time though, she's not here to make friends with him, and just turns to lead the way in without another moment wasted.

... She's a touch annoyed when she hears the unmistakable sound of Baldr's voice, but... no, she can guess at why he might have been left out. However, it's clear she means business when she gets into the door; thank goodness the puppy's at least getting enough sense to realize when Lightning's being serious- especially when she bends to catch hold of him as well. ]

Not now, Baldr. Room. Go.

[ And she'll just be following him into the 'empty' room after a long glance at Hope, no matter how much carrying on like his half-grown doggy heart is broken by absolute betrayal is displayed. ("NOOO...!") This isn't something where distraction can be afforded. ]

[Well. What a... lively home they have here. Sigmund steps inside behind Lightning, ignoring both her and the dog - he's learned that paying attention only encourages them.

Instead he focuses on Hope with an expression that's... intense, as always, but not without kindness. Even if particular features, like his red, red eyes, do much more to accentuate the former than the later.]

Sit down. There's no need to be nervous.

...okay.

[Expelling a deep breath, Hope doesn't even look up now as Baldr trots off forlornly to sit in his bedroom. He finally sits upon the couch, hands folded in his lap, gaze intent on the bit of red-and-black that peers up at him from behind the band on his wrist. An eye that forever stares back, the way it always has.

Even though the man is here to look at that cursed brand, Hope pulls the cloth over it more securely anyway, a nervous habit.]

Remind me what you're planning to do. [Without looking up.]

[ It's a home that's at least been tamed back to normal since the last time Sigmund saw it. No more frantic looking for things that never existed in the first place, anyway.

Lightning frowns as she returns from shutting Baldr away, uncomfortable but hiding just how in generic stiffness. Her eyes go to Hope's arm - she's definitely been around the teen long enough by now to spot and recognize that gesture immediately - before drifting to Sigmund... but she remains silent. Her own answer to that is far too obvious. ]

[Sigmund shunts his armful of books and parchment off onto whatever flat surface is near and convenient. Briefly, he meets Lightning's eyes and tilts his head towards them. 'Brought a little something for your research.' From a pocket somewhere in his many layers of clothes, he produces... actually, it looks like a small, opalescent crystal sphere, with irregular spikes coming from a small area at the top. The inside of it swirls sluggishly, like turbulent, silty water. He holds it up to the light to examine it.]

I'm going to examine your brand, to see if I can sense anything from it. [He pauses, and then continues in a minutely softer, less matter of fact voice.] Lunaglyphs react to lunar power. Mine might react to your brand, if they're similar. If nothing seems untoward... This is a glyph suppressant. It could slow it down.

[More questions and skepticisms arise in the boy's mind, though he remains silent in the moments that follow, fixing his gaze on the strange object that Sigmund pulled out. Both of the things he mentioned seem wholly foreign, and it has his nerves a little on edge. All he can think of now is what he'd witnessed on the journal months ago, when Aerith and Lightning attempted to somehow seal off her brand and it backfired horribly.

Yet still, when his mind passes over the last time his brand advanced—the shock of learning of what happened on the battlefield, a result of never figuring out how to suppress it, even if only temporarily—it all seems fruitless but what else can he really do? Hope briefly lifts a hand to press his fingers to the bridge of his nose, somewhat wearily, before reaching to undo the band of fabric shrouding his wrist.

The brand's moved along considerably since his arrival; Hope can't even bring himself to look at it anymore. The eye is round and bright in the center, almost fully awakened, the surrounding arrows almost at completion. His days are already numbered.]

I don't get how there can be a connection. But here. [Turning his face away slightly, eyes flickering toward Lightning in the process, Hope extends up his wrist so Sigmund can get a better look at it.]

[ Lightning's eyes linger on the things Sigmund brought for a second, but then she moves closer to Hope instead, arms crossed. By now, he's sure to know just about everything she does, and though she's curious... the immediate is more pressing. ]

... It's hard to know until we try.

[ She gives a slight, encouraging smile at the teen, her voice deliberately level even though it's difficult after the Brand is revealed- even a newly-made mark is discomforting, but one that's that far along... it's not a stretch to say that his is far more agitating to her than even watching hers finish off had been. Especially since she now knows personally what lies in store at the end of the road.

She's far from forgetting the incidents with Aerith, of course, but it's not like they can just do nothing, right? All she can do is pray that Sigmund's attempts to help aren't invasive enough to kick off a similar reaction.

Particularly given her promise to the young man about what may happen. She doesn't want to be reminded about that, either. ]

[Sigmund takes Hope's wrist in one hand and... for a bit, just seems to frown at it, eyes half closed. Internally, he's pushing at his glyph - or at that part of his spirit that's been altered by the glyph - to try and force it to tell him something useful. It doesn't seem to be reacting... but this is important. This is someone's life at stake. If there's even the slightest chance... He'll do everything in his power. Finally, his lunaglyph seems to... to burst; a flash of red light in an ornate sigil across his chest, there and then gone.

He lets go of Hope; pulls his hand away like it was burned and clutches it to his chest in a fist.]

Sorry. I shouldn't have- Did you feel anything?

[But if he had felt anything, Hope wouldn't know it just yet—his attention's immediately caught by that bright flash of light. At first he'd thought it to come from himself, for an instant, but then he realizes it had flared up from the other man somehow. A fraction of a second for him to catch it before it's gone.]

What was—

[The brand on his wrist seems to throb with an uncomfortable warmth, and that's when he directs his gaze toward the marking. It shines a faint golden hue, pulsing brighter. The colour it normally glows when magic's involved— but it's supposed to be the sort that comes from him. He's not hurt in the slightest, but Hope draws it to his chest, cradling that wrist in his other hand.

There's a brief flash of panic, brief like that glowing sigil. What if a reaction is just the shock he needs to make it advance further? He's not sure if he can last another impact like that. Hope can feel his stomach lurch, and his fingers tense like a vice around his own wrist. Obscuring the entire thing - though the illumination can still be seen, faintly, subtly lighting his pale skin.]

I really don't think this is a good idea. [His voice is even, but there's a sharp, wavering intake of breath.]

[ Lightning tenses immediately, then with a stressed, gusty sigh, rounds to sit heavily on the edge of the couch. Her first priority is reaching for Hope's arm, to make sure the teen's okay and that the Brand hasn't actually progressed any, though she also glances to Sigmund with more of a frown tugging at her lips as well. She's already seen his lunaglyph looking bad during the course of the experiment; as desperate as she is here, possibly hurting himself for the benefit of people he barely knows isn't really something she's expecting out of him. ]

It's like they're trying to protect themselves. [ Great. Just what they need is to find out is that there's some sort of actual will involved here or something, and that what happened to her wasn't just a fluke.

Hope hadn't lost consciousness or anything like she had, though. Yet. Lightning grits her teeth, frustrated and uncertain... then turns, pressing a hand to her chest. ]

There's my Brand too. It still works, just... doesn't change any more.

[Sigmund isn't quite ready to take his hand away from his chest yet. He wasn't expecting that; but then, he'd never pushed his glyph like that. He didn't use his glyph at all. Thankfully, he learned something useful from this. Possibly two useful things. He looks at the suppressant thoughtfully.]

No, I... think I've seen enough. [He glances around; he'd really like to sit.]

I think the suppressant will work, if you wish to try.

[Hope's gaze lingers on Lightning for a long moment, and then he heaves a sigh, settling back against the couch and closing his eyes.]

...okay. We can... we can try it. I-I guess.

[Though he doesn't actually verbally offer Sigmund a seat, he shuffles over to make room on the couch anyway, opening his eyes and letting them flicker over the man's form—as if trying to see where that strange glow had come from, and then his gaze falls upon the suppressant again.]

So you... you have some kind of brand too? Or... well, you said it was called a glyph. Is it a curse like ours?

[ Lightning kind of grits her teeth at being rebuffed, but then tries to let it go as best she can, replacing her hand on Hope's shoulder in the few seconds of conversation that follows.

... And then she frowns deeper when he isn't looking, while listening to the questions he has for the man. With Sigmund's earlier behavior in mind, out of courtesy she's been careful in talking with Hope, to avoid much mention about whatever ailed the man... ]

From what I understand... sounds like it's a long story.

[ Because if anyone should know the meaning of that, it's her and Hope (and just about everyone else in Luceti too - heaven forbid anyone have a normal life here, for some reason). ]

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☈ strike #13 (action / voice)

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[action] sorry about that

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