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abraxaslogs2022-04-14 11:21 am
carmesi) wrote in abraxaslogs2022-04-14 11:21 am
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Who: Himeka, Nero, Wanda.
What: They're living together, and it's a bit of a disaster getting used to each other. Nero may have tiny ears? We're on the case.
Where: Gardsbruk Farm, Solvunn.
When: After Summoning arrival and throughout April.
Warnings: TBA if necessary.
What: They're living together, and it's a bit of a disaster getting used to each other. Nero may have tiny ears? We're on the case.
Where: Gardsbruk Farm, Solvunn.
When: After Summoning arrival and throughout April.
Warnings: TBA if necessary.
no subject
[As if the power of a half-hearted apology can hurt, Himeka grabs her head. It's a nearly too-quick succession of instances:
Himeka drops the bread (he catches it, tossing it so it balances on the side of Agatha's pen.)
Both women grab each other, falling to the ground. Nero manages to catch one and then the other, scruffed like kittens, so he can lower them gently onto the hay with a:] What the hell?
[The back of his hand goes to Wanda's forehead, then Himeka's, the same way he's seen Kyrie with the kids. They're warm, but not fevered. Hearts still beating, though there was a hell of a spike there, huh? Something in the air? But he can't smell anything. She'd mentioned the Horizon, but --
Well, fuck, he barely knows much about it. Memories?] Hey, come on. Wake up. [He gently wiggles Himeka's shoulder. Breathing. That's. That's a good sign, right?] Hey, you gotta wake up. Hear me? The bread's getting cold.
[There's only a small edge of worry. But the longer the seconds go on, the more he gets they're not waking up, the harder his eyes go, the sharper his moving their shoulders.
A shadow falls over the sunlight peeking in the garage, which, thanks to Nico, has started getting stained with the scent of cigarettes. Since it's outside, he's agreed to not bitch about it. For now.
Nero turns, and at the garage door stands a figure. "You, uh, need something? What is it, you hungry?"
Not a big deal to offer. Kyrie always makes way too much, and he says as much -- though it's worth warning any kind of company about the force of nature that is Nico. She really needs to come with a warning.
The figure steps in, stumbling into Nero's garage. A man, by the height. And though Nero can't see his face, he can feel the stare. He shifts, uncomfortable, an old instinct in him moving his right arm behind him, just out of view. "You see something you like?"
And then a pulse, like that static feeling of a limb going numb, moving like a wave through his arm. The static turning to popping, then a burst of heat. Lines of blue light up through the devil bringer, his right arm, demonically twisted with scales, his fingers ending in claws. He stares at it, heart going cold. T"What the hell?" And then his head shoots up, body going tight, defensive. That reaction only means one thing. But why here? And what the hell does he want? "You a demon?"
Kyrie's voice. White-hot panic pierces through the memory like a bolt of lightning. The next few seconds are even too fast for Nero to keep up with: he screams for Kyrie to go back inside -- then he's flying -- crashing into tools and paint cans. It's not hitting the wall that hurts. He fucking knows that. That's nothing. But the pain is so much that, for a blinding moment, he feels nothing at all.
Then he hears, feels, sees the blood splatter. Spurting out of where his arm was, splashing the wall. Staining the floor. Ripped off of him like wet paper. Hot knife through butter. There's so much fucking blood, filling his nostrils, coating his skin. But the pain. It's everywhere and focused all at once, stealing his breath. His thoughts. It even gets in his eyes, where his vision blurs, and he collapses. He doesn't even remember saying it, watching space ripping open as easily as his arm did. "Wait. Wait!"]
no subject
She can see the garage, smell the motor oil. Sights and smells that she's not used to but can place thanks to the Ironworks and Skysteel Manufactory. Except this is Nero and a strange, boxy vehicle. And an ominously cloaked figure. Nero is what she has learned is his normal sarcastic self, but not without an underlying welcoming nature that quickly turns on him.
An arm, one that is very different than the right arm she's seen Nero possess begins to glow, scaled and...well it looks like it could have come from a Voidsent. There's an energy to it she can't quite make out.
"You a demon?"
Then it all happens in a rush. Nero is thrown, his arm is torn right off, blood spills forth like someone opened a new spring. She can feel it too--keenly, almost like it was her own. She grits her teeth through the pain, holding onto her right arm that is still very much there even in this memory space.
Himeka watches, wide-eyed at the scene in front of her.
And then a portal--that man-- ]
Who is that?
[ She asks aloud to no one in particular--that's not how these usually work, after all.
But she isn't alone. ]
no subject
[it is clear to wanda, in absolute terms, that they've somehow managed to dodge her and himeka's memories and landed into nero's instead. there's a sense of dread as the scene unfolds before them, but she quells that feeling down when she figures that because they're experiencing this memory, nero must not have died from this.
but it does bring forth the questionā what the hell happened?
wanda approaches himeka, stands beside her, because it hasn't happened to her yet where she walks the memory of another with another individual present who is not the owner. though they can't walk into things from a memory, she makes a point of keeping both herself and himeka from stepping onto the pool of blood.]
It's been happening a lot. It looks like we are sharing memories with one another.
[ugh.
she can only imagine the pain that will come after they return to the real world. where is nero, though?]
His arm's pretty weird.
[it's a tauntābecause if nero is within the memory with them, he won't not hear that. and if he's not here? well, it was a pretty weird arm. it's strange, though, that the memory progresses, to two women rushing into the garage to tend after him. is there more to see?]
i'm sorry these are so looong
He has a feeling waking them up with a pail full of water (or milk) is not gonna help. He touches their brows again, frowning, heart thumping unsteadily.
The headache hits him like a knife, right between his eyes. Piercing, with a white-hot whine in his ears. He curses, already on his knees, his nails digging into the hay underneath. Just for a moment, the trigger ripples across his skin, human turning to demon --
Then he's out.
Opening his eyes just in time to dimly hear Wanda's comment. Thanks. But he isn't of a mind to make a snarky comeback. He's staring at the portal split through the fabric of space -- bullshit, by the way, if you ask him -- at one of the few looks he's ever gotten of Vergil.
Funny. He's mostly only ever seen his back.
His fingers clench. Whether it's because he's here or he simply cannot stand to see the fear on Kyrie's face again, the memory shifts, washed away like water splashed on paint.]
Not again. Stop it. Stop it. [It isn't stopping. And he can see. Them. Himeka, Wanda. Standing beside him now, on top of the Qliphoth, stories and stories of straight air below them. It lurches under their feet, branches splitting off in every direction. Rising above. It stinks of blood, unsurprisingly.
Nero sees himself. The weight of Red Queen at his back (he misses her). He looks like hell. Has been through it. And really, this was only weeks ago now. Still so close it's like an open wound. Kyrie's voice ripples through the memory, heavy as a physical weight. You always know which path is right, and which is wrong. There's no need to doubt yourself.
Maybe it should be humiliating, having someone hear this. This -- weakness. He doesn't care. Not right now. It's enough to hear her again. I promised I was coming home.
The vision splits, jerking, moving on. The memory of himself, gritting his teeth. This time is different. I swear. I'm not letting you die! The devil breaker cracking apart, only a bare arm down to his elbow. And then his right arm, drawn out with blue light, crafting itself again. The last thing to craft itself is the symbol of the Chariot, spilling across the back of his right hand.
Just in time with the transformation taking over his body, wings unfurling. The burst of power from him is audible, physical. A whole new bolt of lightning.
Later, he'll realize how fucking dramatic all of it was. How it sucks to have someone inside your head. Your memories. But he can't help but be silent, staring, watching the memory. Waiting for that one last glimpse of the two of them. Before they were gone.]
no we love it
[ The surprise is audible in her voice just as much as it's written across her face. She's used to having visions like this, but not usually with other people. On the contrary--the only time she has was with the assistance of a special crystal and Mikoto's guidance into the depth's of Cid's mind. That was intentional. Not like this. ]
How are you...
[ Wait.
Happening a lot?
That causes more distress than the memory. Her gaze flicks back and forth between the image of Nero's prone form and her new roommate, brows furrowing. Before she can question further, however, Nero appears--again. Inside his own memory, taking control and wishing it away.
What is happening!?
While the first memory had been one of defeat, the next is a victory of sorts. At least it seemed so. Nero had doubts, that much isn't surprising. For how little they've known each other Himeka has already picked up on his propensity for sarcasm and, in her experience, people either found that in genuine humor or were using it to cope with something else. Apparently he is at least partially the other.
Before he lost his hand, but her grows it back. And wings. Bursting forth from will and determination. She feels like she could almost taste the way the aether would electrify with such a transformation. Is this something he's capable of now?
Himeka's gaze slowly drifts to Nero--the real Nero, the Nero of now. This must feel...
...awkward as hell for him. ]
...You don't have to tell us if you don't want to.
no subject
it shifts, however, into something differentāsomething unusual. a world with clear, blue skies but with some... strange tree-like formation, and were it not for the fact that they're just watching a memory, wanda would worry about where to stand, hundreds of feet up in the air as they are, away from the chaotic remains of a city below.
nero's arm takes focusāthe way it looked before, scaly and pulsing with blue light, only to be removed, changed into a sword, to the mechanical arm that dissolve and is overtaken by his very real arm. more happens, a transformation into something she can't quite put into words.
it definitely has got to be awkward as hell for him.
himeka tells him that he doesn't have to talk about it if she doesn't want to, and wanda agrees; however, she steps closer towards nero, standing awkwardly in front of him for a moment before, unexpectedly (by wanda standards), taking hold of his left hand with her own.
(it's something he had said, in the memory, to himselfāi couldn't protect credo. to this day, i hate myself for not having enough strength. but this time, it's different. it's loss, it's blame, it's guilt; she understands that feeling.)
swords clash, two men appear; they look familiar, if only because of nero's likeness to them.
she stares at nero for a moment, a discerning look in her eyes, then returns her attention to himekaānot a word offered, but her hands holding his, still.]
These memories will stop on their own, but perhaps ā we'll... see more. From any of us. There's no controlling it.
[unwilling secrets that will be spilled; she can only imagine, nervously, what will come forth from herself, from himeka.]
no subject
He gets that last glimpse he wanted. Nero, stopping them from killing each other. His -- his father. His uncle.
You gonna cry? Nico's voice isn't part of this memory, but it comes to him. No. But the expression on his face, the sucking of air through his gritted teeth, the tear on his cheek -- yeah. It betrays him.
It's only Wanda touching his hand that makes his fingers unfurl, pulling himself from the last look he might ever have of the two of them. A loss for that which he knows, that he's known for years. Loss for what he never got to know. And now he's sharing it with two people who he barely knows. He doesn't even know if they have last names. He doesn't even know what Himeka is. (Not that he holds it against her.)]
Yeah, well. [He rubs his face with his shoulder, but doesn't give any more attention to the fact he's crying in front of them. Whatever. Shit happens.] Anyone else wanna take a trip down memory lane, be my guest. Promise I won't ask, either.
[It sounds cool, aloof. But the fact he hasn't ripped his arm out of Wanda's grip might say enough. In fact, he's gripping her back, wincing when he can hear their voices. This has nothing to do with you, Vergil says, and the coldness in Nero's voice is almost a perfect mimicry of it.]
no subject
And gods, how is Wanda here? Has her own affinity and talents with magicks pulled her into the Echo? How is Nero here too?
There are so many questions that don't have answers. Himeka would be lying if she said she wasn't partly unsettled by the whole experience almost as much as the pain Nero is clearly going through, both in his memory and as he's forced to relieve it.
She moves to stand on Nero's right side, a show of solidarity for the others who are going through this too.
The men disappear, the voice of that woman from earlier echoing across the scene. They're important to him. This is loss of a different kind.
Following Wanda's lead, Himeka boldly takes Nero's right hand, but keeps her gaze out towards the horizon, looking down to the planet. ]
...I'm not sure if I've done anything as impressive as growing a new arm.
no subject
nero wanted to go with them, and that's a sentiment that's incredibly palpable.
slowly, those changes in the world reach a point where they are standing atop the qliphoth, and things shift and blend in a little, giving way to another memory. nero, or someone else's? wanda tries not to focus too much on her own.]
I don't think it's a thing anyone else can do. [unless, lizards? hm. she tugs at nero's hand.] Come, let's move this way.
[not that walking anywhere will lead them anywhere, but it beats seeing what's left of nero after those two men leapt off the ledge.]
no subject
At least it's mostly gone now. The memory. Not much feeling's left in him, staring at the Qliphoth. Just one more thing that's gone.
No one's gonna miss it.
He blinks a few times, shaking himself out of it. Looking between the two of them, each holding an arm. It's weird, but it's not bad. Just. Been a long time since anyone's held his right one. He can't even recall the last time he felt someone hanging onto it. Those scales and claws had never exactly felt delicate. Never has the same sensitivity.]
You said they stop? [On their own. Not ideal. So this had happened to her before she came home. Points for trying to warn them, but like. One out of ten. It wasn't the most concise warning.
They walk away from the edge of the Qliphoth, and maybe that's enough to help the memory begin to dissolve. Except it doesn't feel like they're... what? Waking up? It feels more like. Shifting.
Great. Something else is coming.]
It only happened one time.
[He offers it as the only explanation for now. Feels like they deserve at least that. You know. For being. Here. For... trying to help.]
no subject
The edge of the world becomes something different--something. Familiar.
Oh...dear.
Cool gives way to warmth as the open skies close in to stone pillars and high ceilings. In the center of his large room is a round table where a young woman in white robes sits across from someone who looks like a pig-tailed child, but is actually quite a bit older and wiser. Another woman in glasses fills up an ornate goblet on the table with wine. The conversation begins innocently enough as the short woman dismisses her handmaiden and begins to speak frankly.
Himeka knows what this is instantly. Why this is happening is another story...it's not something she's thought about in quite some time.
She watches her younger self hear the idealistic intentions of the Sultana of Ul'dah, willing to give up her own prestige and privilege for the betterment of her people. The Sultana knows it isn't an easy task, that it will cause unrest at the minimum. There's some placidity and confusion coming from her younger self, but the Himeka in the vision listens quietly to each word.
She looks and feels...comfortable, to all eyes. The weight of the stability of a nation being placed partially on her shoulders doesn't seem to bother her when the Sultana asks for her assistance in this matter, helping contain the chaos that will follow and help her right-hand man. Himeka simply nods, smiling lightly. After all, this is what she does these days, isn't it? She gets to see the world and help people along the way.
Her agreement brings clear relief to the Sultana. Now relaxed, she takes a drink from her goblet. Only to freeze.
It all happens in slow motion in the memory, though Himeka knows it was a rapid succession of seconds. Each one she remembers clearly--
--how Nanamo had been choking, reaching out for her--
--how Himeka had sat there at first, shocked and not believing what she was seeing--
--how the guards had burst through the door only a second after Nanamo collapsed on the floor--
--even then, Himeka had thought their arrival was too timely. Her thoughts at the moment are briefly audible to all.
Did they hear her fall? But how...
She may--if I can just try to cure her--!
But then, in that same instant, Himeka herself is accused of murder. Himeka glares as the guards move to surround her and she doesn't resist, her gaze falling only back to Namamo's prone form on the ground. The person she just agreed to help...
This isn't happening...is this really happening?
Nanamo?
I need to see Y'shtola--Minfillia! ]
no subject
it's funny how memories tend to play out, in slow motion, dramatic gestures, and a gut-wrenching feeling.
connecting the dots is not a difficult task at all, and wanda wonders just how long ago this was; what her relationship with this woman was; what thoughts rushed through her head, caught in this difficult situation.]
Himeka.
[āshe calls in a murmur, turning to look at her friend. there are floods of pain within these memories, with what they saw of nero's, with what they're seeing of himeka's.]
They couldn't have thought it was you, could they?
no subject
Neor follows suit quickly enough. It's easy to suss out Himeka considering -- look, need he mention the tail again? -- but. Younger. Some years ago, maybe? Though he doesn't really get why she is listening to a literal child talking politics. Or why a child is drinking wine.
Why... why someone is killing the -- regicide. Ah. Okay.
It isn't so amusing when guards rush in. His gaze hardens, body tightening up. Getting ready for what's coming. Guards coming it just at that exact moment, huh? How convenient it all is. Is that the point of these memories? Showing the others some of their ultimate fuck-ups?
Himeka's thoughts -- words? -- ping around in his head like a pinball. Feels like they should say something. Even though he doesn't know her that well, he can't imagine she'd go and poison a kid. For one, there's way easier ways than wine to --]
Figure they already knew. They didn't even wait for the wine to dry.
[Easier to focus on her pain than his own, even if his memories are still ringing like hollow bells. He squeezes her hand.] You okay?
no subject
It did seem too convenient, but I was really too shocked to really dwell on it.
[ The image of Nanamo on the ground begins to fade as the scene shifts. Himeka's hands are bound behind her back as she's ferried into a great room, flanked by the guards who had arrested her. ]
I'm supposed to be a Healer...why didn't I react?
[ Naive. Foolish. She knew why--she was used to healing in battle and she enjoyed doing it, enjoyed the thrill and adrenaline of being in battle against strange creatures and Primals. But when it really mattered...she couldn't do anything.
The great doors open and Himeka is thrown to the floor--It looks as if they have interrupted a political gathering of some sort. The party mood is ruined as the accusations ring out to the halls. They have "proof" that had been planted, actually of her own trusting nature in accepting items from strangers. But it doesn't stop there--the man who clearly orchestrated this goes on to accuse Himeka's colleagues of a grand conspiracy to undermine not just the nation of Ul'dah, but their allies as well.
The other Scions are aghast as the Sultana's right-hand man and General shouts out in agony at the fallen monarch.
Himeka--the current Himeka--shakes her head.
Again, her younger self only sits on the floor, her head snapping back and forth between all who speak. But she doesn't speak up for herself--not even once. ]
I didn't have much of a head for politics. I hadn't thought about the implications of helping specific members of government while ignoring others. Mayhaps if I'd paid more attention, I would have seen this coming.
[ But likely not, she thinks. Himeka doesn't consider herself a strategist despite how often she has to employ it in the moment.
Forcing a wider smile, she turns her attention away from the memories and towards the other two, the real people in front of her. ]
Don't worry, this isn't the last time I've been involved in the overturning of an antiquated government or accused of killing the figurehead and made it out.
[ The smile fades just a bit as her gaze doesn't focus on either one of them in particular--some point between them in the distance of the manufactured hall. ]
...I cannot say the same for all of my comrades, of course.
[ People she does feel responsible for. Her eyes flick back to the blonde-haired woman with the side braid. ]
--I'd understand if this makes it...difficult to share living space.
[ She tends to attract trouble. ]
no subject
closing the circle, wanda steps closer to himeka and holds her hand, too. they stand at an odd triangular shape, making eye contact with the other woman.]
Don't even think about it. I don't know about Nero, [she turns to nero, too, squeezing his hand, but turning her gaze back on himeka after a pause.] but if we started thinking badly of each other because of ā of the actions of others, then that wouldn't be fair.
[wanda knows what it's like, to be outcast and having others look at her questioningly, uncomfortably, just from being near them. it's a kinder assessment than what she would give herself, having done her own fair share of horrible things.
meaningfully,]
I trust you.
[she offers a small, albeit tight, smile, even as the world around them fades out from the remainder of himeka's memory. scarlet pulses around them, forming a box-like structure to encase them in, lights dimming and the screen of an old tv turning on, abruptly, on one of the faces of the box. wanda's breath catches in her throat as she recognizes what this is, a jingle playing, openings to different eras of sitcoms, a click and a tschhhh sound every time the display changes into a different 'opening' song. it's all in widescreen for them all to see.
this is when she pulls away from the two, as the screen displays the introduction cards for her sons, tommy and billy, seeing the fictional family portrait with herself and vision flood the screen. she stares for a moment, even as the screen fades into another opening song.]
I suppose... this one's mine.
[obviouslyā
even with how manufactured it may seem.]
no subject
You're stupid if you think I'm dumping someone over whatever this is. Not something we were even supposed to see.
[Same as they've already done for him. And yeah, it's incriminating and stuff, but what does he care? Some government in a world he's never been in? Shit, he's barely getting a head over what's happening here.
Here. Anywhere. By the time they're figuring out one memory, it's bleeding into the next. Something about all of them being in the same place's gotta be triggering it. And they just. Ride it out. How much worse could it get?
Maybe worse isn't what he should be waiting for, but weirder. Not exactly a connoisseur of sitcom television, he's not exactly catching references. What he gets is more important:]
You have a family. [His tone is tight. Everyone does. Stating the obvious, huh? This is different, though. Whatever the red guy is (he matches her magic), it's not hard to see what they are. Who the kids are. And a brother --
A family she'd been forced to leave behind. A full one. Wanda's smiles here are tight, and rare, but there... she was happy.] Hey. We'll get you back to them somehow. It's not forever. Right?
[His look at Himeka is a little pleading. Please back him up on this.]
no subject
Both of them are straight forward people--she accepts and trusts their reassurance at face value as well. ]
Thank you.
[ She doesn't need to say more than that, does she?
Now...the musical interlude is definitely a new way to shift between memories. Himeka is even less equipped with television let alone the trends of another world's pop culture, but she has to admit that it is catchy.
She watches curiously, tilting her head from one side to the other. It's like...a series of performances? And that man--"part machine"? It's strange but she looks like she's in her element, truly flourishing.
Nero hones in on the important part, though. She has a partner and two children that are counting on her. Himeka readily nods to Nero's reassurances, turning her attention back to Wanda. ]
People have returned... We just need to figure out how.
no subject
wanda feels it in her gut, when color and sound comes back anew, like a tv show that's just pulled itself from the opening credits to the episode proper. except, it looks less like a sitcom, what comes onto the screen a memory from her perspective, until it enraptures all of them.
they're in a kids' room, twin beds on either end, the windows showing a fuzzy red wall inching ever closer.]
I can't go back to them.
[wanda, in the memory, sits on the bed with billy, while vision tucks tommy in. it's vision who starts, claiming that he's very proud of them bothāand wanda smiles, almost like she didn't expect it.
you know, a family is forever. we could never truly leave each other even if we tried. you know that, right?
she brushes billy's hair back, awkwardly, like she isn't sure this is what she should do in this situation. but she smiles, regardless, looking at them both lovingly; smiling. with a last kiss on billy's head, she stands, and kisses tommy's head, too, joining vision now at the doorway of the room.
for a moment, she pauses, looking out the window as the fuzzy red wall draws even closer. her breath catches, but then she looks back at her kids, and it feels urgent when she says:
thanks for choosing me to be your mom.
they smile at her, and it's a memory so, so precious, that getting to see it knocks actual wanda to her knees, as she watches it all fade back to black.
the world gives, their memories spent, and as wanda bows her head to draw a deep breath, they've all returned now to the floor of the barn. wanda opens her eyes and blinks away the tears. she sees himeka lying on the floor nearby, and she picks herself up, slowly, feeling the headache that tends to come after these bouts of memories. she spots nero too, and there's a sheep nosing at his back.
she needs to get upābe useful. it was not just her pain on display, but her legs feel so heavy.]
no subject
Nero's breath might as well have been punched out of his gut. The scene shifts, something much more intimate. Less... fake. And then Wanda drops a bomb on all of them, as if it's the same thing as singing a lullaby to the kids:
Family is forever.
It stings. It's brutal. Maybe just like those kids, he wants to believe that, too. Sounds nice. Maybe it's the kind of thing all kids hear from their mom.
Just like him, she can't go back.
The reality fucking sucks, huh?]
Even so. Like you said. Family's forever.
[It still feels empty when there's nothing on the other end of such a promise. In the end, you're still alone, aren't you? Even if you can believe they're still around. Waiting. Like maybe they'll come back --
Nero's eyes open, tears trickling down around the curve of his cheek. With a start he pushes himself up, legs splayed out, brushing back the sheep that's starting licking at his hair. He wipes at his eyes with a jerking motion, his head pounding.]
Shit.
[Fuck it. He lays back down, staring up at the seemingly giant lips of the sheep he's named Bella in his head. The only time he's felt so completely drained was waking up after his arm, like every modicum of energy's been sucked out of him.
He manages to lift his head, at least, even though Bella butts his shoulder.] Still alive over there?
[It's the kind of headache that makes he wish he wasn't. Ugh.]
no subject
Unless...it's something that cannot be changed.
So many questions and no small amount of guilt. Though she has since reconciled with her remaining family, family is forever does hang heavy on a woman who left it all behind to follow her own whims. It was selfish. What would Wanda think if her sons had done the same?
She doesn't comment on it, only watching until the last bit of the vision finally fades away. She feels like she owes it to Wanda (and maybe her own family) that much.
The pounding in her head as she slowly rouses to consciousness again is familiar. That should be comforting no matter how painful, but these revelations from her new friends combined with the oddity of it all coming to pass is a lot to absorb. Himeka blinks, wincing slightly as her tail does one half-hearted flop onto the barn floor, a signal that she is still alive. ]
Mrnhh...
[ The sick feeling in her stomach may not be just from the visions.
Gingerly, Himeka pushes herself up as she looks over at the other two. ]
...The bread?
[ That's the important thing, right. ]
no subject
that's one good thing to anchor herself onto as the memory of her children passes through her. the pain remains, just like every dream she has of being with them, a reminder that she isn't with themāthat she can't have them.
himeka's question registers and she looks about for the bread, noting that nero must have saved it when both redheads fell to the ground. it sounds so silly amidst everything that she feels, but it's a welcome thought regardless, pulling her away from something darker. it reminds her that she's picked herself up from worse, and so she scrambles up to her feet. she may not have much strength left for physical activity, but wanda can still use her magic to give both nero and himeka a little boost to get off the ground.
in fact, she materializes a large couch from hay stacks and wooden benches and whatever else she can transmute, rather comically placed in the middle of the barn, just at reach for all of them to sit down on, or fall onto, should they decide to move around her magic as if it were a crutch.
and wanda does, falling into it with a thump and trying to keep her headache at bay.
belatedly:]
Nero saved it.
no subject
Then again, he usually doesn't relive traumatic events from a week ago. Or hear commentary on them. Or share them. Memories should have never been a group activity.
Nero waves a hand through the air.]
Felt important. Figured you spent some time on it.
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She pats the arm in a motion for Nero to come and join them if he'd like. Or he can sit with Bella, she won't judge. ]
I could use a snack...
[ That's her secret: she could always use a snack.
She turns to Wanda then, relatively good at masking her headaches after these sorts of things. ]
You said that this has been happening?
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the reminder of her children has taken the hunger away from her. her children need her. her boys. and what is she doing, but playing house in this farm? lying down in the horizon wilting her will away?ā]
Yes, in the Horizon. I tried removing myself from it, but I ended up entering so many memories of others.
[āa family is forever, but doesn't she dream of them every night, wishing she wouldn't wake up? just so she could spend one more moment with them.
big tears blur her eyes and, oh, maybe she would like to have a snack, too? wanda pulls her feet up on the couch, presses her hands onto her eyes, covering her face, a sob escaping her, then another, her shoulders shaking.
she can't ever go back to them.]
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Hey. This sucks.]
Even in the astral plane? Damn.
[He sniffs. Still not the worst experience of his life. And... yeah, for whtever reason this happened, whatever it means -- if anything -- he doesn't regret seeing them again. Even if it doesn't change a damn thing --
His thoughts pause. Nero turns to Wanda and doesn't miss that -- shit. Yeah. Family is forever. Until they aren't.
He moves an arm around her shoulders, then the other. It's awkward as hell, next to her on the couch, but he makes it work. he has to. He gets it, and he doesn't, but he knows what it feels like to --
To cry. To cry when you lose family.] Wanda. I'm sorry.
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There's no small amount of guilt in this. She doesn't know why, but this is definitely the Echo. (It has to be, right?) But why are others experience it? And so often? Yet...she doesn't want to put that thought into their heads--to these new people who are staying with her. They're good people. She doesn't want to give them more reason to doubt.
So she leaves it unsaid, instead shifting her attention to the people in front of her. That's what's most important.
Nero, for all his gruffness, has a heart. A big heart, she's found. Wanda and Nero may bicker but as soon as there is real pain, he softens instantly.
Himeka reaches across Nero to place her hand on Wanda's thigh and gives it a warm squeeze. She knows what it's like to lose people--friends, family--and the pain never does go away. You can only move forward. But...sometimes you just have to feel. ]
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wanda leans into nero, a squeeze of emotion in her chest.
she mourns and mourns and mourns. she is not done burying a loved one before she has to dig a grave anew, get torn asunder by the shock and the waves of grieving. anchor after anchor removed from her, the ground slipping from beneath her feet. nero is hereāa safety net; himeka is hereākeeping her ashore.
she doesn't know how much time passes as she cries into his shirt, eventually removing herself with an ounce of embarrassment on her face (downcast eyes, slow, trembling movements, rubbing at her tear-stained cheeks). for what it's worth, she remains close, pressed to his side, and brings a hand to hold onto himeka's.
her lips tremble as she tries to get the words out. her chest feels heavy, every breath painful, but she's been here before. she can surface again.
(she is home here, temporary as it may be.)]
Isā is the bread still warm?
[how to awkwardly shuffle out of this?]
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Was there a point to this whole thing? The memories? Just a forced way to share their pasts? Or just some random bullshit, like a thunderstorm outta nowhere?
He lets her go when she starts to pull away, but his hands rest on her shoulders. What's one wet shirt, anyway? The two of them hang onto her and it feels like something solid's been built between them. A chain, maybe. The sort of thing he felt with Nico when she got her grubby hands all over his sword to fix her, leaving her singing like a bird.
It's a fair question. He doesn't laugh, but his lips curl up a little.] Uh. Yeah, ice cold, honestly. Maybe we can pop it in the microw -- er, the. Fire oven thing. I can go fire it up.
[Hah, get it? Fire oven?] Maybe a cup of milk or something with it. Gotta hydrate, you know. [Nero, that's for water.] You wanna come with, Wanda?
[As in: should we all stay here until you're good, or are you looking for an escape to move on? There's always gotta be an out when someone comes down out of grief. Either to settle in it, or step away as fast as possible.]