ＤＯＮ’Ｔ　ＴＵＲＮ　ＯＵＴ　ＴＨＥ　ＬＩＧＨＴ

( 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. ]

[ For Lightning, because of the circumstances at the end of the last time she'd been drafted, this is actually the first time since her arrival she's ever had to go and try to readjust back to 'normal' life so suddenly- to go from experiencing days of battle and worry, thinking critically, ready to kill or order to kill at a moment's notice... to sleeping in a bed she's used to, eating breakfast in the morning, running for exercise, trying to figure out what else to do for the day...

The village might just be getting started on a whole new New Feather cycle, but Lightning doesn't really find it easy to care that much. She pays attention but mostly ignores what doesn't concern her-- aside from even more random strangers wandering through her yard, that is. Apparently that's just the price of living at house #41, so close to the plaza.

... Of course, something is still pretty off, too. Regardless of somehow managing to do a passable job before, she'd really rather not be having to go out and water the flowers around the house again-- Aerith's flowers. Especially since, like it or not, the guilt over not keeping an eye on the other woman that last day of the draft continues to plague her. She still doesn't know what happened to her, aside from the fact that she suddenly disappeared and just never came back... and yet she does know that others will probably be wondering where she is anyway. In a weird way, the l'Cie kind of considers handling it her duty... even if she'll still be eyeing anyone who gets near with obvious suspicion.

Unless your name happens to be Hope or Zack, of course, the former which has an upcoming birthday laying on her mind, and the other which... she needs to... kind of figure things out with. After that conversation right before everyone was sent off. Ohhhh boy.

If she's not caught in her yard, eventually she does leave her own territory, though, restless and looking for something to do. And after some time, she turns to the journals with a dry, vaguely annoyed-sounding inquiry: ]

Just... out of curiosity, who all is even looking after these fruit trees north of the village? [ A short pause, and she's clearly looking off, studying something a little bit overhead. Unsurprisingly, she's standing right alongside an apple tree, bearing a prodigious load of readying round fruit. ] Look about ready to harvest, out here...

[ Today, Lightning's doing something fairly unusual in comparison to her normal - and recently even darker than normal - behavior. For once, she's outside and yet doesn't seem busy, merely watching as her puppy Baldr frolics about in the general area of community housing 4 in search of sticks to defeat, things to dig up, and nearby people to greet. In fact, the young woman and dog look pretty safe to come 'visit' with today- especially since there's also no gunblade in sight, and as she sits down to lean against the outside wall, she makes a pretty inane-seeming public message. ]

These seasons... usually last about three months each, right? How much warmer does it get?

( And then this, filtered to Sigmund )

[ Okay, so thanks to Luceti, Lightning has now accomplished the impossible: not only coming back from the dead, but coming back after becoming a Cie'th- something that is not supposed to happen under any circumstances. Despite that, however, everything is not as peachy as you'd think. Now? She's left in the aftermath, trying to sort things out without suffering some kind of breakdown in the process.

This is Lightning, though- she's not okay, but she is better than she was at first. Fortunately, her memories of the whole incident and leading directly up to it are relatively fuzzy-- or depending on your viewpoint, unfortunately, considering she feels like she should try and figure it out... and yet doesn't want to think about it too much due to the sheer level of awful being in that state felt like.

On top of that, her main problem now is actually not her l'Cie Brand that has burned its way to completion... but its sibling set onto Hope's arm that is very likely working its way into doing the same. She needs to do something about him, before it's too late.

But to avoid or put off her other 'obligations' at this point could seem cowardly, and Lightning is not a coward. Therefore, as soon as she's reasonably alright, she kicks herself into action, searching out those she knows and 'needs' to see, trolling around community housing building #4 and the village in general.

... She may or may not actually hunt down Zack, Aerith, and possibly Raine specifically-- at their work places, even, just in time for their shifts to end. Yes, she's just that stalker enough to have figured that sort of thing out.

In addition, she soon turns to the journals as well, making this short message aimed at the last draftees- the filter is not particularly strong, save for locking it away from Hope as well as she can manage: ]

Anyone who saw this on the battlefield... I need to talk to you.

[ A picture is pressed into the journal directly afterward: a crude rendition of two wings- one non-colored, the other filled in with blood-red marker. There's a short pause and then a sigh in the background, but Lightning withholds further comment until responses - if any - come in.

And to avoid the headache of figuring it all out... each piece of this is backdated to just whenever this stuff would have happened. Seriously: any time. And if anything's been missed, just make something up. ]

[ Lightning really doesn't have much to say about this whole Valentine's mess that's been going on. Basically yeah, what she gets from it? Everyone is celebrating some weird 'Earth' holiday again- one that's supposed to be about love, but for some reason is strangely commercialized in its traditions. Good for them, though. At least people seem a little happier today, from what she's heard in bits and pieces off the journals. She, however, is definitely not interested in... that kind of thing. What a waste of time.

... Anyway. ]

Out of curiosity, how many of you are trained in hand to hand combat? If so, where did you learn it?

[ After all, where she's from, knowing how to fight pretty much means only one thing: a position in the military somewhere, considering civilians seriously have no reason to learn. For whatever reason though, it seems that here it might actually be different... and what better way to find out than to ask? As with everybody else ever though, yes this is actually an event post. First post is taken; reply at will! ]