thestormishere | ☈ strike # 24 (private action / filtered voice / public video)

☈ 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. ]

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[He's pretty soundly asleep when she checks on him, but SOLDIER senses being enhanced as they are, the noise of the door opening is enough to rouse him. He stirs beneath the covers, rolling over and mumbling her name before he even sees who it is. Calling for her in bed is just kind of instinctive for him by now.]

Light...?

[ Oh, of course. She pauses at her name, noting dryly to herself that it's really the first time in several days that she's heard it (or really, recognized that that particular word could represent her). The thought of this latest trick on them all is enough to make her blood feel like boiling all over again... but she presses it down as she steps all the way in and quietly shuts the door behind her.

An awkward moment spent standing in the dark of her boyfriend(?)'s room while he's still half-asleep, and then she crosses to the bed, sighing before she slowly sits down at the foot of it.

... Hopefully he doesn't startle and try to jump up and strangle her for this... admittedly odd gesture, all things considered. That would... probably end up even more awkward and stuff. ]

[There will be no jumping, strangling, or attacking in general, though at the sudden weight on his bed, he stirs again and sits up, blinking blearily, his eyes a faintly ethereal glow in the shadows of the night, accented by the moonlight filtering through his window. He rubs at an eye, glancing around once he's recognized her.]

What time is it...? Is something wrong?

Not yet four.

[ She remains still, unfortunately not quite as glow-in-the-dark as he is-- aside from the sheer paleness of her skin, hair, and wings, of course. Lightly frowning down at the hand in her lap, she wonders if it's sunk in yet that the experiment's ended. ]

Shouldn't have woken you up. Sorry.

Don't apologize. You're-

[And then it does sink in, as he finally blinks the sleep fully from his eyes and clarity returns, and he stares down at the blankets for a prolonged moment, one hand blindly reaching back to grip the bed frame.]

...Whoa.

[ ... Ah, there it is. She takes in a long breath as the moment hits him, lets it out as a sigh in the space directly afterward. For her, the thought of the last few days is like a bitter taste all the way from tongue to belly. She can't imagine it'll be much different for him, depending on the details.

Or well, except that he tends to have an easier time shrugging off things, but...

She turns to look at him in what might have been just a glance, but then her gaze lingers instead. He probably doesn't need anything more piled on top of what he's got on his mind now, and yet... on the other hand, perhaps it would be best to just get it over with. ]

Vanille's gone, too.

[WHAT

WHAT

What the hell, Luceti. Zack stares at her for a long moment, eyes wide. Kind of been hit by a double-whammy here, please hold for brain break.]

She... what? What the hell... are you sure?

[A stupid question- Light's been in Luceti long enough to know what it means when someone goes home. But when he's shocked, his brain-to-mouth filter isn't that great.]

Yes...

[ She didn't have to answer, all things considered, but at least the softer reply is better than the snap-back that she's momentarily tempted towards. Still, habitual neutrality aside, the more subtle aspects of her body language betray just how bothered she is by this- how her family and friends continue to show up only to be yanked away so relatively soon afterwards....

And here she-- and Zack are, aside from those few hours she got sent home for, still around after almost two whole years..... ]

...Damn. [Zack looks down, cursing quietly, and then, as a cautious afterthought, he reaches out to curve his fingers around hers.] I'm sorry, Light.

[He's really hoping she'll let him do at least this.]

[ She seems distracted, but really she's quite aware of how he reaches out to her, given her mindset at the moment. Not only does she let him, after a beat she lets her fingers tighten the hold back automatically, blinking down them in the soft glow of whatever light has managed to sneak in through the window and cracks around the door. ]

It was nice, seeing them again.

[ Vanille, and Hope, even though she missed the opportunity to talk to him as she is now, apologize for the uncertainty she put him through...

Aside from this little incident that forced a pause in it for a few days, she's been thinking a lot since she reappeared here with an eternity's worth of issues on her shoulders. It almost seems harder than it was before, trying to settle in, not go crazy from the pressure of unfinished business... but in the end- ]

We have to use what time we're given. [ She pauses for a breath, thoughtful, then looks back with a bittersweet smile. ] Otherwise... we wake up one day and then it's far too late.

...Yeah... learned that the hard way.

[Even if it had been a brief loss, it's certainly... changed things. And it could very easily have gone a completely different way- she might never have come back. And he'd be left alone in this big house, now that Vanille's gone...

It's just such a lonely existence. And it's hard not to get depressed about it, seeing friends come and go so easily, without so much as a goodbye.]

Right...

[ Ahaha. Yep. She bends her head forward, and her amnesia-neglected hair - particularly that newly-reinstated fringe - falls unevenly in front of her face. She lifts a hand, but then rather than trying to push it back, her thoughts seem to strike off in another direction. Eventually... she lays it atop their entwined hands instead.

Narrowly she avoids apologizing. Again.

All this ambiguity lately...? Honestly, it's not something she's sure she can afford. It's just, you know, hard and nobody understands blah blah blah. And frustrating, and--

She turns to glance at him obliquely, but her eyes stay low, focused somewhere between neck and chest. ]

[Her quiet focus earns her some concern from him, mostly because as per usual - or rather, more so since she returned from her lengthy and still-baffling absence - he's having trouble reading her. She's struggling with something, hesitating, that much he recognizes.

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?]

[ That answer seems to catch her attention a bit, her back straightening slightly as she blinks widened eyes-- although then she sighs, shaking her head slowly... and sobers. ]

... 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...

[He scoffs quietly at that, turning her hand in his and lifting it to press it to his lips before she can misinterpret the sound as a refusal.]

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.]

[ -- She huffs at that in turn, half an abruptly-flustered laugh as her face rapidly turns hot- thankfully it's dark enough to conceal it, even with such a moonwhite face. ]

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. ]

Yeah, you should have. [He grins playfully, leaning in until his forehead bumps against hers. Baby steps, he can take them, even if a good chunk of him is dying to kiss her senseless.] But I forgive you.

[She's smiling. That, right there, is the best gift she could possibly have given him at this moment.]

[ She stiffens a little but then firmly refuses to let herself pull away- geez, she's been close to him pleeenty of times before, after all, so she should be able to do this now, right? And. It's nice, besides.

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. ]

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☈ strike # 24 (private action / filtered voice / public video)

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