☇ 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
no subject
Not really into making plans, then?
[ ... Could have gone either way there, yet she chooses another dry comment instead of wordiness. For now. ]