Oerba Yun Fang (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
belligerentwarrior) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
recolle2018-05-28 10:44 pm
belligerentwarrior) wrote in recolle2018-05-28 10:44 pm
Entry tags:
Semi-Open
WHO: Freya, Pen, Luna, Felicia; others added as needed
WHERE: Campground, outskirts of Recolle, beginning of the road to Magatus
WHEN: May 20th
WHAT: Freya turns into Ragnarok, and Ragnarok is not friendly.
WARNINGS: Violence
[[Important! If you would like an encounter with Ragnarok, please contact me by PM or at![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
gsdragono and we'll work something out!]]
One arrow. Another. The next.
They came slower once Freya had sorted out her feelings about the cursed mark, but they still came. Every week, more of that reddening eye stared back at her in the mirror. It was thoughts of Ryoji, both of his monstrous side and his return from death that kept Freya sane.
But those thoughts didn't dismiss the fear of the creature that awaited her, or her other self's despise and heart-wrenching pity for the soulless things. She could put on a brave face all she wanted, but with each passing day, the hope that this time would be different from her other self's world--that the Brand wouldn't work how it should--became harder and harder to muster.
When a spasm rippled through her shoulder and the Brand burned, Freya knew her time was up, and the fear packed beneath the surface burst through to seize her. That was all the invitation the Brand needed. Ragnarok had come.
[Penelope - Morning]
The paint can clattered to dirt as Freya clutched her right shoulder, fingers clutching at the skin through the fabric as though she could suppress the Brand's blazing light if she just pressed hard enough.
"No," was out of her mouth before she could stop it, somewhere between forceful and quiet, and several more desperately murmured no followed as Freya fell to a knee. Not here. Not now, not where Pen could see, their little pact about Freya's curse be damned. She was lucky, probably, for this to happen at the camp grounds, away from the city, but...
A little more time. Just a little more time.
WHERE: Campground, outskirts of Recolle, beginning of the road to Magatus
WHEN: May 20th
WHAT: Freya turns into Ragnarok, and Ragnarok is not friendly.
WARNINGS: Violence
[[Important! If you would like an encounter with Ragnarok, please contact me by PM or at
One arrow. Another. The next.
They came slower once Freya had sorted out her feelings about the cursed mark, but they still came. Every week, more of that reddening eye stared back at her in the mirror. It was thoughts of Ryoji, both of his monstrous side and his return from death that kept Freya sane.
But those thoughts didn't dismiss the fear of the creature that awaited her, or her other self's despise and heart-wrenching pity for the soulless things. She could put on a brave face all she wanted, but with each passing day, the hope that this time would be different from her other self's world--that the Brand wouldn't work how it should--became harder and harder to muster.
When a spasm rippled through her shoulder and the Brand burned, Freya knew her time was up, and the fear packed beneath the surface burst through to seize her. That was all the invitation the Brand needed. Ragnarok had come.
[Penelope - Morning]
The paint can clattered to dirt as Freya clutched her right shoulder, fingers clutching at the skin through the fabric as though she could suppress the Brand's blazing light if she just pressed hard enough.
"No," was out of her mouth before she could stop it, somewhere between forceful and quiet, and several more desperately murmured no followed as Freya fell to a knee. Not here. Not now, not where Pen could see, their little pact about Freya's curse be damned. She was lucky, probably, for this to happen at the camp grounds, away from the city, but...
A little more time. Just a little more time.
no subject
But it's something.
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Arms slide under Freya, the suit and her bracelet making the bigger woman more manageable despite how ungainly it is. Carrying her in both arms, Pen starts towards the ship....
"I'm not letting you go. Not after all that. You lived. You're gonna keep on living, dammit," she grunts, beginning the move up the slope.
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She stirred a bit when she's lifted; it's warm. The sensations, and the familiarity of it all subconsciously pick at a vivid memory...
("How many times must you fail?")
Freya jolted suddenly, half-tumbling out of Penelope's grip, a weak and clumsy strike thudding uselessly against her armor.
The fright's strength was short-lived. Freya's legs buckled the moment they touched the ground and she collapsed in a dazed heap. Thoughts swirled uselessly in her mind. What was going on? Did she dream of Orphan again? Why wasn't anything coming into focus?
"Where--"
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"You're with me. Your brand opened...you changed, and I beat you. It's over, Freya. You are safe, and we're going home."
That was all the truth, the gospel, gods-honest truth. And it felt damn good to say it.
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A few moments of breathing pass before any of that makes sense. Her brand. Freya's hand fumbles up to her shoulder, but her fingers only find the pair of scars on her shoulder. Duh--as if she'd be able to see it in the dark, let alone feel it.
(But it had changed. White, arrowless and faded at the edges. The diamond of the eye faintly etched in the center.)
They'd been camping. Freya had told her to run. But... What happened? Where was the rest of it?
Freya hurt, in that deep bone ache sort of way, especially her chest. Maybe Pen really did beat it. A faint smile twitches onto her face once her panic about the brand recedes.
"Th's my girl."
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"Damn right I am. A far cry from hunting tomatoes, but it's done."
Pen slowly began to try and move them along, towards the ship.
"You don't look injured...just...I think you need to rest."
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Even if it became immediately clear that Freya was holding herself up almost entirely with her arms, and they trembled every few steps, lacking their usual strength.
She was too cripplingly weary to be properly relieved, but... A little of it was there. She was still here. She was human.
"Thank you," Freya mumbled.
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"Anytime. I'm here for you, dear."
Steady despite her own weariness, Pen inhales deeply...
"Thank you for coming back to me."
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"Can't get rid've me th't easy."
She inhales, relishing in Penelope's scent, even if it's muddled under the armor, dirt, and those sickeningly sweet energy drinks of hers. Together with her voice and the light banter, the familiarity's a siren call, promising warmth and safety and rest, and Freya was so, so very tired.
It's a good thing Pen was watching for it, because a few steps beyond the crest of the incline, Freya's grip goes slack, and she slips back into unconsciousness.
2 days later
The Alraune hops up onto the bed next to the sleeping lump that is Freya, scaling her like a hill and walking along her torso on light feet to look her in the eye. It remembers her pretty well, and has always been fond of her. It's a little sad seeing her like this, it thinks, so it bends down to rub her cheek with one sackcloth hand...
no subject
Upon retrieval, Freya'd been completely out cold--understandable, given everything she'd gone through. At some point between the first and second night, she'd started shifting in the definite signs of sleep instead of "dead to the world."
That said, unfortunately for the small Alraune, it was a pretty deep sleep. The sackcloth hand was a subconscious annoyance more than anything.
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It's relieved too, and Tons will be even more relieved. Why, he's been working on a present for Freya even!
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"What."
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Almost as if to say "Penelope is there. She'll be happy to see you."
Or maybe it's just stupid and jabbering. It does that too.
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It takes her significant effort, and even two tries, to successfully push herself up to sit. Freya stays like that for a bit, rubbing her face and scrubbing through her tangled hair and ignoring the small plant-headed creature.
She didn't remember how she got here. What time was it? Events slowly filtered back to her through the oppressive sleep-haze. Camping. The Brand. Pen had... found her? Freya didn't recall that part well, and she didn't think that was the grogginess' fault.
The Brand. Her hand finds it on her shoulder, and the dim light of the electronic clock is enough to illuminate the stark-white mark, fading out like circuit patterns where the arrows should have been. She... recognized this, she thought. Remembered her other self callin' it "messed up." What did that mean?
Well, it didn't matter now. Freya looks at her hands, curling and uncurling her sleep-stiff fingers. She was human. And... really goddamn parched, now that she thought about it. But first thing's first; Freya turns her tired gaze to the Alraune. It... didn't seem like panicked jabbering? She was getting better at telling these things.
"Pen's okay?" She croaks, just a little.
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It hops up and down, chattering happily and pointing down the hallway. Totally fine, but it's her to look.
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With another groan, Freya swung her legs over the edge of the bed, standing on wobbly legs. That takes effort, too. She recognizes Penelope's guest room; there was no reason to be alarmed--probably. The monsters would be more in a tiff if there was, right? Freya has to put a hand on the wall to keep her steady, and while she feels much stronger than she had after Pen had found her, Freya moves to the hallway with the stiff-yet-shakiness of someone who hasn't moved in several days.
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... She should probably say something to make this less weird.
"Um-- Hello."
Well, she tried.
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...no, no this was definitely Pen's place. Then, why...
"You're... Sakura, yeah?" Freya asked after starting for a moment. 'Why are you here' hung unsaid, but was visible in her puzzled look.
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She didn't know why she posed the question. Obviously this was Freya, and Sakura clearly remembered the older woman from their time in the forest. Fighting back a fidget, Sakura instead smoothed some of her hair back and finally pointed down the hall.
"Penelope-san invited me in -- uh, well, it was kind of necessary?"
She was so bad at explaining things.
"I found her when she wasn't feeling well, so I came to help her get settled in bed."
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Was she hurt?
The taller woman was still slow to respond, despite attempts to force focus through her exhaustion. "What day is it?" And, parched throat be damned, turned and started making her way towards Pen's door. She had to verify this with her own eyes.
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"It's Monday night -- well, probably Tuesday by now."
No, she hadn't planned on spending the night, it just seemed a terrible idea when Pen was knocked out and her girlfriend wasn't faring much better.
"She said something about using a lot of magic, so she just needed rest."
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Pen didn't... look injured, but it was hard to tell with someone under a blanket. The other woman would've said something if that was the case, right? That was the logical conclusion, anyway. Freya had to stamp down at a gnawing in the back of her mind; she'd feel a lot better knowing what happened. She didn't remember anything from the incident.
"Tuesday, huh," she says quietly, to not wake Pen--even if she wanted to. Freya turned to face Sakura again, still leaning lightly against the door frame. Two days. A faint humor crept into her rough voice. "Guess this means we're even. You been here long?"
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Which probably made it sound like Sakura has only been hanging around for a little bit, when in fact she'd been here since mid-afternoon. Not a short amount of time.
But she hadn't minded. Someone needed her, and selfish as it was, Sakura had been more than happy to make herself useful, pleased to stick around and look after a girl who probably just needed bedrest.
"She fell, so she got a bit scrapped up, but otherwise she has no injuries."
Just... putting that out there in case Freya might worry.
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But fretting about it wouldn't change anything.
"Thanks. For lookin' out for her when I couldn't."
Carefully, Freya pushed herself off the doorframe, shuffling slowly toward the kitchen. Sakura had said it was 'probably Tuesday by now', so it must be pretty late.
"Stay the night, if you want. Sounds like you've been up a while."