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( October 2nd, House 41, tl;dr )

( Later October 2nd, voice, filtered to Noel )

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. ]

[ ( Evening of the 8th )

It's not until well into Thursday afternoon that Lightning makes a reappearance to the 'public.' That said, it would be hard to pinpoint anything's wrong at all for those who don't know her fairly well, save for a sort of distant demeanor- evident in her averted gaze and too-smooth voice.

She's sitting on a beach in her transmitted video, but it's not Luceti's beach, given it's clearly night where she is, in contrast to the real sun still shining away cheerfully outside. ]

I'm looking for people wanting to spar-- maybe help me test something. Weapons, hand-to-hand, anything. Send me a message. Or just come to the battle dome.

[ "-- I don't care." There's a short pause, while she briefly taps her fingers on her knee, tries to think of anything else worth mentioning.... ]

Magic is a bonus too, if you've got it.

[ And then there's an abrupt end to the 'feed' once again. Anyone who doesn't catch her message or decides to just go ahead and wander over to the battle dome will find her fiddling with the simulation controls, armed with an unusual, bulky weapon - looking somewhat like some sort of gun - hanging holstered behind her hips.

... No, there's really no words for how much pain she's in right now, but perhaps distraction may help. In any case, no matter how much she sometimes seems set on it, she knows quite well by now that cutting herself off has a very low chance of making her feel any better. If nothing else, this is at least worth a try. ]

[ Lightning's actually not much of a morning person. Military girl or not, on most days it's usually the sun that beats her up- especially once the daylight hours start lengthening a little, and she has no real obligations except to get an early start on going out to run or something...

This time, though... something's been bothering her all night, and sleep in general hasn't come easy at all. It's still mostly dark when she tumbles out of her room, on edge because even if she doesn't yet recognize the source something is wrong--

It doesn't take her long to figure out why, that her current family in Luceti number has abruptly dropped, four total to three instead. After all, she's been around plenty long enough to know the signs that someone has left, even if she's never experienced it firsthand.

In this case, it's an empty bedroom- the only sign that it's ever been lived in at all the color of the walls and several of the dog's things left behind.

And to say that the woman's upset is like saying water is wet, or really, that Luceti is unfair. Rather than alerting anyone else, however, there's only a distinct SLAM of the front door as the pink-haired l'Cie flees the scene, taking Baldr with her - even now she's not cruel enough to make the animal think two of his people have left him.

Whether her housemates choose to go after her immediately or discuss amongst themselves first or whatever, regardless, eventually there's brief audio message that gets thrown out to the winds of the journals, delivered in a voice that's deceptively flat. Considering the general sentiment behind such a common type of report here, however, she's probably not fooling even those who don't know her personally. ]

Hope Estheim's gone home.

[ ... Someone just try and be smart with her about the teen's name right now. She's not in the mood. ]

ARIES
- You'll get 'The Devil Went Down to Georgia' stuck in your head for the next week.
- You will find a turtle in your laundry.
- Just go sleep on the couch tonight. You don't want to know why.
- Hide it, no one saw!

[ Like everyone else, Lightning wasn't really sure what to think about the odd message that showed up at the front of her journal recently, but it's fairly late in the evening before she makes an appearance on there too-- publicly, without even any filters in place to exclude certain people! An unusual decision perhaps, but... here she is anyway, looking as mildly annoyed as ever as she brushes hair from her face and frowns deeply. Her words are clipped and serious. ]

A few things.

Anyone care to explain the reasoning - if any - of this experiment? [ A beat. ] Actually, I'd just like to know if there's a pattern between the words listed at the top and the sort of guidelines everyone's getting beneath them. Is there anyone looking into this?

[ No, she doesn't understand the concept of a zodiac or the point of astrological horoscopes, shut up. Something like that is a little difficult when nobody else from your world has seen stars or even the real sun in five centuries, you know!

But in any case. ]

Second, does anyone have information on something that's called... [ Another slight pause, this one perhaps a bit embarrassed? Naaaah. ] 'The Devil Went Down to Georgia'?

... Third, this creature...

[ And here is where she leans aside slightly, rustling in what's apparently an 'off-screen' cardboard box a moment before she lifts this handsome beastie up- just long enough for the journal to capture the slow, cautious paddle of its legs in the air, as well as the pink-haired woman's dubious expression as she stares at it.

Then-- nothing, save for a soft sigh. Even though something's obviously eating at her about this, apparently that's all she can think of to say on the matter before giving up and just setting her journal aside to wait for any responses.

Also, to continue moping on the couch, with roughly half a dozen blankets around her. ]

[ Whenever there's an experiment, it always seems like Lightning gets a few days to contemplate the rest of the village going mad before anything happens to her too, doesn't it? It's not very amusing to her at all, especially considering she's spent the last few days fretting and waiting. She's been trying to stay out of trouble, but...

A Farron is not easily cooped up for long. Before she knows it, she's pacing her entire residence, messing in the kitchen for no reason, sitting on the floor with Baldr while staring at the ceiling, and-- ugh, stepping outside for just a minute won't hurt, right? Just as long as she avoids any weirdos who might attempt to pull her into something. Besides, everything seems normal right now. She feels normal.

With marked determinated, she walks out the front door and-- FGFDUAGFA, SOMETHING IMMEDIATELY FALLS ON HER HEAD??

And yet as soon as she leans down to see what it is, the woman goes stiff, looks up to gape at the cloudy sky, and then takes off at a sprint in the direction of the village square. Shortly afterward, if you happen to be anywhere outside: ]

Oh! Don't go!!

[ Hello, there is a woman with feathers stuck in her hair and dressed all in horribly clashing yellow trotting up, looking quite upset. And a little annoyed too, but... that's to be expected, given who this is. STOP BEFORE SHE FORCES YOU TO!

(Lightning is imitating Chocobo Loco/Chicken Little/Henny Penny for the event, sooo... characters are welcome to be either an innocent or the Fox in the story, if you wish. Alternatively... she will also probably play along as well, for those already affected by their own thang.) ]