☇ Ｌｉｇｈｔｎｉｎｇ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thestormishere) wrote2012-10-04 07:11 pm
thestormishere) wrote2012-10-04 07:11 pm
Entry tags:
- !ic,
- !luceti,
- @helios,
- @mordin,
- @noel kreiss,
- @okita souji,
- @tenten,
- @zack fair,
- @zelos,
- a lot more hopeless,
- alright everyone,
- don't turn out the lights,
- in the aftermath,
- lots of stuff here,
- not that person any more,
- secretly distressed girl,
- something called social contact,
- stop messing up my personality!,
- the land of backdatistan,
- time for a talk,
- what is sleep?,
- what's with these feelings?,
- white silver and gold
☈ strike # 24 (private action / filtered voice / public video)
October 2nd, House 41
[ It's 2:49 in the morning when Lightning wakes up, her memories returning... and immediately it's as if the weight of all of it falling back into place is enough to crush her entirely. At first it's impossible to move except to roll over, hands on her face, stifling a groan of frustration many times stronger than what she'd felt during the time her mind had been cleared of everything down to and including even her name.
Anger. Anger is what she feels first of all, but it's subdued by the fact that for the second solid time in way too short of a span she's having memories coming back to her of living without knowing of things that happened beforehand... and unfortunately, she knows there's little she can do about it.
By 3:15 she's up, knowing that sleep is an impossibility even if she tried... and by 3:28, she's already following another bad feeling that she's all too familiar with by now but wishes she wasn't. That's when, once again, she wanders across an empty room that should have been filled by another and their belongings.
Vanille's gone home. And, with Hope having disappeared in the time she'd gone home just to save the world and yet gain a one-way ticket to Valhalla and even more trouble, that means that she and Noel are the only ones left here from their particular universe instance.
She knows it's important that her friend is back where she belongs, to play out her role in rescuing Cocoon. It's important too that Hope is where he belongs, playing such an integral role as well throughout time.
But she'll miss them and misses them already, even if she was never that close with the former, and things had been awkward here given timeline discrepancies. It's yet another blow amongst many that keep trying to drag her down.
Grief is an emotion she's learned to deal with, however, and even if it sticks with her she knows all too well now that letting it weigh on her is something she can't afford. In the darkened realm of her house, she considers how precious time can be, when you've got it... how badly it can hurt, when you feel like you've wasted it.
... With quiet (read: unbooted) steps, her next stop is towards Zack's room, feeling relieved when the door's knob proves to be unlocked, and even stronger relief when the space beyond shows evidence of being lived in. It may be an unholy level of early in the morning, but it's about time she did this... ]
Later October 2nd, voice, filtered to Noel
Noel... I need to talk to you.
October 4th, Voice
[ It's been since before her disappearance and then almost immediate return that Lightning's made any sort of widely public, intentional post, but today apparently she's got something heavy enough on her mind to warrant attempting to soothe her curiosity.
It doesn't bother her so much though, and even those who have only seen or met her in passing should be able to tell that there's something subtly different about her- in a way that surpasses the fact that she's apparently sustained a haircut, and those wings fanned out slightly behind her are different colors than before, once-red wing turned white, once-white turned to silver and gold. She regards the journal thoughtfully a moment before speaking, her voice deliberately even. ]
If I remember correctly, the viewpoints over what happens to us after death... are as varied here as the worlds we're pulled in from. Reward and punishment, returning to where our spirits belonged in the first place... simply fading into oblivion....
[ She pauses, and a clock fixed to the wall behind her - an antique-looking, wooden piece of work - fills the air with steady ticks and tocks as she takes in a breath or two, looking up and over past the 'camera.' ]
When we die here, we return but a week later... although missing a piece of who we were before. [ Another breath. Tick, tock. ] What do you suppose happens, in the meantime?
Do you believe it is different than 'home?'
[ Sure, she knows this sort of thing's been brought up before, but... if it's ever been in these exact words, she definitely isn't going to waste her time digging through years of others' entries looking for it. ]
[ It's 2:49 in the morning when Lightning wakes up, her memories returning... and immediately it's as if the weight of all of it falling back into place is enough to crush her entirely. At first it's impossible to move except to roll over, hands on her face, stifling a groan of frustration many times stronger than what she'd felt during the time her mind had been cleared of everything down to and including even her name.
Anger. Anger is what she feels first of all, but it's subdued by the fact that for the second solid time in way too short of a span she's having memories coming back to her of living without knowing of things that happened beforehand... and unfortunately, she knows there's little she can do about it.
By 3:15 she's up, knowing that sleep is an impossibility even if she tried... and by 3:28, she's already following another bad feeling that she's all too familiar with by now but wishes she wasn't. That's when, once again, she wanders across an empty room that should have been filled by another and their belongings.
Vanille's gone home. And, with Hope having disappeared in the time she'd gone home just to save the world and yet gain a one-way ticket to Valhalla and even more trouble, that means that she and Noel are the only ones left here from their particular universe instance.
She knows it's important that her friend is back where she belongs, to play out her role in rescuing Cocoon. It's important too that Hope is where he belongs, playing such an integral role as well throughout time.
But she'll miss them and misses them already, even if she was never that close with the former, and things had been awkward here given timeline discrepancies. It's yet another blow amongst many that keep trying to drag her down.
Grief is an emotion she's learned to deal with, however, and even if it sticks with her she knows all too well now that letting it weigh on her is something she can't afford. In the darkened realm of her house, she considers how precious time can be, when you've got it... how badly it can hurt, when you feel like you've wasted it.
... With quiet (read: unbooted) steps, her next stop is towards Zack's room, feeling relieved when the door's knob proves to be unlocked, and even stronger relief when the space beyond shows evidence of being lived in. It may be an unholy level of early in the morning, but it's about time she did this... ]
Later October 2nd, voice, filtered to Noel
Noel... I need to talk to you.
October 4th, Voice
[ It's been since before her disappearance and then almost immediate return that Lightning's made any sort of widely public, intentional post, but today apparently she's got something heavy enough on her mind to warrant attempting to soothe her curiosity.
It doesn't bother her so much though, and even those who have only seen or met her in passing should be able to tell that there's something subtly different about her- in a way that surpasses the fact that she's apparently sustained a haircut, and those wings fanned out slightly behind her are different colors than before, once-red wing turned white, once-white turned to silver and gold. She regards the journal thoughtfully a moment before speaking, her voice deliberately even. ]
If I remember correctly, the viewpoints over what happens to us after death... are as varied here as the worlds we're pulled in from. Reward and punishment, returning to where our spirits belonged in the first place... simply fading into oblivion....
[ She pauses, and a clock fixed to the wall behind her - an antique-looking, wooden piece of work - fills the air with steady ticks and tocks as she takes in a breath or two, looking up and over past the 'camera.' ]
When we die here, we return but a week later... although missing a piece of who we were before. [ Another breath. Tick, tock. ] What do you suppose happens, in the meantime?
Do you believe it is different than 'home?'
[ Sure, she knows this sort of thing's been brought up before, but... if it's ever been in these exact words, she definitely isn't going to waste her time digging through years of others' entries looking for it. ]
no subject
It doesn't take a giant leap of logic to realize what she's probably struggling with, either.]
Light... taking time to think about what you want, to be sure about it... isn't not a waste. [He gives her hand another squeeze.] Pushing yourself can become a regret, too.
[It's not that he doesn't want it. Far, far from it. But this sort of thing shouldn't be a struggle, right?]
no subject
... Even if I have to forget again, even if it turns out impossible for it to matter in the long run... I don't want our time here to be a waste.
[ She's quiet, but-- for the love of all that is good, the last thing she wants too is to toss her chance here at a glimpse of something that's not constantly struggling to keep the fate of humanity from turning to ashes- even if like she says, she might very well lose it again. That idea was something she already had to overcome once before, yet-- yeah, experiencing it firsthand has been tripping her up.
He's already been so patient with her before, and it hurts to think of making him ramp that up again like he's been forced to since her return, but she wants this, and while she's far from used to pursuing things she wants, all of her misgivings aside, she can't deny that her heart would likely... never ever ever forgive her if she ruined it. So. ]
If... you're willing to still put up with me...
no subject
Please. "Putting up with you" isn't the way I'd phrase that. Not at all. But... haha, yeah. I'm definitely still willing.
[He offers up a smile - hopeful, no pressure, but obviously pleased at this chance. It's been hard, waiting to see what happens, how she feels, especially when there'd been no lengthy separation to make it feel as if he'd really lost her. She'd been gone for all of a single morning and it was as if they'd had some terrible fight, one that left them both cold and confused and distant. Allies or old friends or something much less personal than he was used to.
It's not what it used to be, he knows that, but... maybe someday.]
no subject
Zack. [ Half a warning this time, but... then again. She can't help but smile- gradually at first, but then turning her face away slightly as it grows. ] Should have known.
[ Seriously. If nothing else, he's not a man to give up unless totally shot down (...ahaha). She just really hopes she doesn't make him regret it somehow... she doesn't think he deserves any less than the best. ]
no subject
[She's smiling. That, right there, is the best gift she could possibly have given him at this moment.]
no subject
Slowly closing her eyes, she just stays still- save for her hands, which lift to rest on his shoulders, while she takes the time to breathe slow and figure out what she wants... ]
... Let's just go back to bed.
[ -- And hope they're both still there in the morning, of course. Not to give him any (immediate) ideas, but... but it's still way, way too early right now. And as weird as it might sound, she doesn't mean to leave by her words... as evidenced by how she doesn't move to get up, turning her face toward yon bed rather than the far door. ]