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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. ]

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. ]

[ 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...