thestormishere | ☈ strike # 23 (accidental video / action)

☈ strike # 23 (accidental video / action)

[ You'd think that a woman who goes by 'Lightning' would have an affinity for thunderstorms. However, in truth... considering she grew up in the all but completely climate-controlled environment of Cocoon, her experiences with storms in general have actually been relatively rare, and... well, while she doesn't fear them by any means, she's certainly found they tend to bring more trouble than anything else- and not just because of the bothersome amphibious monsters that like to frolic in their wake.

This afternoon's no different. More importantly, water - and cold, the rumble of thunder overhead and wind gusting over her, mussing her hair - isn't something she was expecting to wake up to. In fact, she... really wasn't expecting to wake up at all. She hadn't been asleep.

In an instant she's rolled into a crouch, backing up against the nearest wall, and the soggy journal laying nearby captures the image of a woman who looks just about as good as you'd expect out of someone who just found themselves face-down in the midst of a rainy village, wearing nothing more than that ever-familiar white dress of a New Feather. ~~Who needs dignity?~~ ]

What...? What?

[ Oh, she seems unhappy. Especially since- even though she clearly wasn't armed a moment beforehand, when she then extends her arm... this happens, with what appears to be a sword materializing in her hand with a flurry of white feathers.

Feathers that slowly vanish with a soft light as they land on the ground, although she stays still, obviously confused yet trying not to show it.

She might be a face that's been around in town for quite a while, but it's likely that only those closest to her or close to her friends in turn will have even heard anything about how she's been missing for just over half a day now.

... Until now, at least. ]

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[Uh...

Okay, he doesn't even know what to think about that. Her expression is hard to read as ever, but he has experience now, more than most of the people in Luceti (if not all of them, with Hope gone again), and her confusion is showing through pretty clearly right now.

Her brain's working overtime, and he can't blame her- there's no way of knowing how long she's been gone. It's- it's kind of terrifying, he can't lie about that. But he waits, worried, hopeful, torn between a dozen emotions.]

[ It feels like a dream-- was Valhalla a dream... her promise to protect the goddess a figment of her imagination?

But no, the weapon in her hand is proof enough of that particular little reality... and anyway, even if it's flanshit crazy enough to be totally made up, even if Lightning's not always the epitome of one with a full grip on sanity, her imagination's never been particularly wild.

Which rules out Luceti being totally made up too, even as the memory about what this place is, how it works separately than the worlds it somehow drags people in from, filters back to her.

And the more she sorts things out, the angrier she gets. When she'd been in Luceti before, she'd been determined not to forget what had happened here- she'd held fast to the belief that just maybe she could use what she learned to do something once she found her way back to Gran Pulse and Cocoon hanging above it...

But until just now, she hadn't had access to any of it, didn't spend any time missing the friends she'd made here, remained unaware of the time she not just turned Cie'th, but weathered the full psychological effects and then died in that state, brought back a week later with her mind in pieces.... ]

Zack...

[ Her voice breaks, frustrated and torn. Abruptly she drops down to gather up the soggy journal with shaking hands, setting down her odd weapon to the side.

Once again, Luceti's totally screwed her over in a way she couldn't have even imagined... and that hurts. Really hurts. ]

[Hearing his name is like a breath of air- breath he hadn't realized he was holding in. He swallows hard, trembling, and keeps his eyes away from the journal while he composes himself. It's an unexpected gift.

He honestly figured she'd have forgotten everything.

Finally he retrieves the journal, offering up what he hopes is a steady smile. It probably isn't, but he does give it his best shot.]

...Hey, Light. I'm guessing it's been a while.

... More or less.

[ The admission's slow, softly-said... but not at all dishonest even if taken literally. Strictly timeline-wise, it's only been maybe a few weeks at most. From the POV of Lightning's experience, however, it's been ... longer. In truth, she wouldn't have been able to tell exactly how much time has passed for her even if ~~FFXIII's time-skip was fleshed out and~~ she had a stopwatch to have measured it.

Though for the record, she doesn't really look any older... and in fact her hair is shortened up again to how it was waaay back when she first arrived in Luceti. ]

[God, where do they go from here? He's not sure what that even means. He'll keep trying, though- they'll figure this out. Somehow.]

Okay... okay. Do you remember the house? Where you lived while you were here?

[Where we lived together. We lived there and we're dating and you were here last night and I love you and dammit this place-]

Number forty-one.

[ She answers immediately, and even as she speaks she's getting back on her feet, bringing the gunblade and journal up with her. Even when stressed she can't stay inactive for long, after all.

Once she's up she pauses, however, looking at the journal-- staring at it hard, through it, at him. His worry is so clear it might as well be written there on the page as well alongside his picture... and more than anything else, it makes her heart ache, in a way that's both familiar and foreign....

And, finally, she seems to have the sense to show some mercy on him, since... ]

I remember everything. Everything that happened in this place.

[He exhales a bit heavily at that, brows furrowing, his fingers drumming idly against the page. She remembers... okay, well, that's good news. Clears a few things up, too, and it's an extra balm on that worry he'd been feeling since he found her missing. It's all so convenient that it's almost suspicious, but he's not going to pick a fight with the idea of getting her back in one piece, that's for sure.]

Do you need anything? Clothes, food, a pick-up? Or do you want to just come home?

I...

[ She snorts slightly, because really- it's like zero degrees out here and wet and and it doesn't take long for a shadow of her former behavior towards him to reappear, even with the stirring-up this little event has caused, a little bit of amusement out of exasperation to pull at the corners of her lips. He isn't out here looking for her already? ]

[ ... But then she catches herself, and the reality of her bad luck in general crashes back in on her, causing worry of her own to sneak back into her demeanor. ]

How long has it been?

[ If the answer happens to be 'three years but I'm the only one who remembered you!!' she may just blow a fuse. ]

[He's already got his shoes on, if that makes a difference. But it would be a lot faster if he at least had a general direction to move in.]

Believe it or not, it's only been about half a day.

[ -- Half a day. Half a day?

You'd think this would be something to relax over, but instead, Lightning seems to freeze as she digests this piece of information. Half a day is barely any time at all, and when you're a girl who's been tossed to the end of time itself, witnessed the entire span of it on fast-forward, that's... so... insubstantial.

She's changed, so much has changed... and he's been here, missing her for sure (something that, as already established, she hasn't been doing in return), but hardly any time has passed....

Ah crap, and here comes the guilt. ]

[He's not sure what exactly she's thinking; it's too hard to see much of anything over the journal. He frowns down at the page, tapping his finger against it impatiently.]

Come on, tell me where you are.

[He's worried. He feels sick. But most of all, he just really, really wants to see her right now.]

[ Well too bad because to find her first you'll have to go through about 15 time gates, fight some otherworld abominations, fix some paradoxes--

... No?

Oh, alright. She blinks, either taking a moment to come out of her pause there or briefly entering another very short one, then dips her head with solemnity before turning... and.... ]

Looks like the barracks.

[ Pretty distinctive building, fortunately, even in the rain. ]

[Barracks. Target acquired.]

Stay put, okay? I'll be right there.

[He grabs a jacket as he heads out the door- he doesn't need it, but she might, since she's probably only wearing that stupid New Feather dress. He keeps his journal open and tucked up under his arm, but he's on the move to meet with her.]

... Alright.

[ Warmer-toned. Easy enough. Of course, she could always just... start walking home too, maybe; a little more rain's not going to kill her and it's really not that far, after all...

But as soon as the thought crosses her mind, she counter-decides she could use a few more moments to think. Plus-- well, wandering towards the middle of town in a soaked-through white dress doesn't really... seem like the brightest of ideas, either.

While she waits, listening to him move, she does try to think of something else to say, anything to ease the tension, yet even then comes up short on anything adequate. Staying silent probably isn't the best course of action here, but...

Gah... not that she's very good at that even when she's got lots of time to think about it either, BUT.

Her heart's in her throat, remembering that time she's spent in Luceti and everything it entails pretty well itself, even if her brain's still trying to play catch-up past the whole... 'demigod of war' thing.

But... yet... what if....

Patience quickly becomes something easier promised than acted out. Once she's actually inside the barracks, dismissed her gunblade distractedly, simply staying in place leaning against the wall seems a lot harder than it should be. ]

[He doesn't really talk on his way over, focusing on getting there as fast as humanly possible, which - while pretty quick by the standards of a normal person - is not fast enough for his liking. Still, it doesn't take too long before he's bursting through the doors of the barracks, hurriedly glancing around to spot her.

There.

He wants to close the distance between them, grab ahold of her and not let go for a long, long while, but he has no idea how long it's been for her, whether she'd even allow it. She remembered him, sure, but that didn't mean she felt the same...

Steeling himself, he approaches her anyway, hand lifted in greeting.]

Hey... looks like I made it.

[ She's soaking wet, and the fact that she woke up face-first on the ground is particularly obvious on the fabric of her white dress right now. Her hair is a damp, lost cause. Even if she's missing the shivering or goosebumps that would seal the deal, by the time Zack's shown up she's crossed her arms over her chest in what's pretty much the accepted sign for "I'm freezing my butt off here."

Also, that damned l'Cie's mark on her chest is gone. So, there's that.

She sucks in a slow breath when she seems him come in, promptly closing her journal. Immediately she's aware that the air feels a little warmer even though, technically, he's only letting more cold air in... but the sudden familiarity that floods her is undeniable.

As is the knot in her stomach. She's never been too good at that reading-people's-emotions thing, but his covered unease seems plain as day. In person it only makes her guilt build even faster.

She looks stricken as she holds her hands out, palms turned up halfway, like she means to lift them up to proper hugging posture... but then wavers instead. Rather than deciding against it, however, she's just already all kinds of conflicted, and again her voice breaks a little when she manages to answer. ]

Looks like it...

[He notes the shivering - which is obvious, he'd have to be the worst boyfriend(?) ever to miss it - and spotting the lack of mark isn't far behind. She used to hide it a lot, so he probably saw it more than most people.

One thing at a time, though. He closes the distance between them, lifting his hands to drape the coat he'd brought around her shoulders, then, after a moment's pause with his hands lingering against her arms, he finally caves in to his impulse and wraps his arms around her, his chin pressed against her neck. If it's been too long- if she's still unsure- she can push him back or yell at him or hit him, whatever. He doesn't care, he'll pay that price. He just has to try.

It hasn't even been that long, but... the pain was very real.]

[ Lightning remains still, her hands still hanging in the air even after Zack's wrapping his own arms around her. Her gaze darts across his face, but aside from that and her breathing--

She's far too stiff to be normal, practically statue-rigid. A breathing, restless-gazed, swallowing-thickly statue, entertaining the rather worrying feeling that he's hugging a different woman than he thinks he is.

After a few moments though, miraculously, her arms do bend, moving to slightly better positioning, but still it's impossible to relax all the way. It takes her a second to realize that everything's gone darker because she's squeezed her eyes shut, her face against his shoulder. ]

... I'm sorry.

[He remains silent and steadfast as he waits to see what happens after he hugs her, and it's only when she starts to hold him back that he relaxes, shoulders slumping in relief. It's okay. It's okay.

When she speaks, he releases a soft, almost breathless laugh, soft against her neck.]

What are you apologizing for? You didn't do anything wrong... none of this is your fault.

[I just missed you.]

[ She hears the words, but doesn't give an answer. Her thoroughly wet state, the weight of his grip and coat over her shoulders, texture of his clothing under her fingertips... it all feels so real-- too real, anchored to and subject to the ravages of time. Something she'd been thoroughly disconnected from since the cataclysm inadvertently arising from Cocoon's salvation.

Her connection to the goddess has the alarming quality of a dead-end line now, but the power she received from Etro's blessing is still there all the same, somehow... inactive at the moment, but all too ready to appear if the need arises.

As odd as it seems, she doesn't feel real herself, no matter how muddy and cold her re-arrival's made her. She feels displaced and, because of that, she still can't relax. Not even with the man she fell in love with here breathing on her neck.

The distance she'd held when speaking to Serah and Noel in the ruins of New Bodhum, accomplished only because she'd known it was necessary, is beyond her reach at the moment. And showing up in this place again--

Her emotions and mind are in trouble. ]

How do you know?

Because I know you.

[His answer comes without hesitation, calm and quiet and full of unshakable conviction. He doesn't care what's happened. He's seen enough of her to know better. He's still assuming that she's talking about Luceti, though.]

I know what this meant to you. And I know it was hard to be here without your family, too. But you wouldn't have just... no. It wasn't you.

[ ... What he says is true, although she's not sure it really makes her feel any better. Letting out a breath, she shifts, and after a moment pulls away slightly- not enough to push him away if he's still not ready to let go, but... ]

I've made all sorts of bad decisions, before.

[ Turbulent thoughts lead to candid admissions; she sounds weirdly tired, the memories of her past mistakes and the fact that she's suddenly been ripped away from attempting to atone for them are definitely weighing her down. ]

There's... still so much I have to do.

[When she pulls back, he hesitates, reluctant at first, then lowers his arms to let her go. He's not going to push for something she doesn't seem ready for. Honestly, he's surprised he got as much as she's given him already.

He's grateful he hasn't been forgotten, at least.]

Maybe... you should start at the beginning. It sounds like a lot happened for you since you went back.

[ Once released, her arms cross over her chest again, tugging close the edges of the coat over her shoulders. She could always put it on properly, of course, but her distraction proves stronger than doing what would make sense here. ]

That could... prove to be more difficult than it sounds.

[ Says she, but she's considering how to do so anyway, frowning vaguely as she looks off to the side. This is different than explaining things to Serah and Noel, and she... actually had the opportunity to think about what she wanted to impart, there. ]

☈ strike # 23 (accidental video / action)

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