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)
recolle2017-06-17 10:49 am
belligerentwarrior) wrote in recolle2017-06-17 10:49 am
Entry tags:
[Closed] Ashes ashes in the air
WHO: Freya and Lucy, Minako later
WHERE: Their apartment
WHEN: Saturday Evening
WHAT: Someone takes a hallucinomemory very poorly
WARNINGS: None at the moment
[When the first major vision struck her, a few months ago, it left Freya shaken and fearful down to her core. Even though she knew (believed) it wasn't grounded in reality, she couldn't help suspicious glances at the too-normal moon at night—even though it was ludicrous for some giant, flying metal creature to live behind it. Time had tempered the vision's intensity, making it feel like some old, faded, but still chilling nightmare.]
[A nightmare she assumed done. Freya knew she was wrong when that shock of terror returned, causing the glass in her fingers to slip and shatter across the kitchen floor, not unlike the phantom rain of stone and rubble that overwhelmed her senses.]
[When it was over, with that thing departing into the sky with land and ore in its colossal hands, the terror was gone; grief and seething hatred wholly replaced it.]
[And Freya knew, deep down, inexplicably, that her family was dead.]
[She tried to reject it. Freya pulled out her phone with trembling hands that felt too large and like they should've been battered and bruised. She had parents. She remembered them raising her. They lived in the same damn part of the city as her. Still, she couldn't steady her fingers; she kept hitting the wrong app and contact and closing the wrong screen and—the frustration of failing to make a simple phone call was too much, on top of everything else. Freya wheeled about pitched her phone at the window with a furious shout, but she couldn't even take satisfaction in the way the device or the pane cracked.]
[Freya leaned over the countertop, eyes screwed shut, trying to ground herself. The emotions were overwhelming, too vivid, and squeezed her chest as a vice would. It was hard to breathe.]
WHERE: Their apartment
WHEN: Saturday Evening
WHAT: Someone takes a hallucinomemory very poorly
WARNINGS: None at the moment
[When the first major vision struck her, a few months ago, it left Freya shaken and fearful down to her core. Even though she knew (believed) it wasn't grounded in reality, she couldn't help suspicious glances at the too-normal moon at night—even though it was ludicrous for some giant, flying metal creature to live behind it. Time had tempered the vision's intensity, making it feel like some old, faded, but still chilling nightmare.]
[A nightmare she assumed done. Freya knew she was wrong when that shock of terror returned, causing the glass in her fingers to slip and shatter across the kitchen floor, not unlike the phantom rain of stone and rubble that overwhelmed her senses.]
[When it was over, with that thing departing into the sky with land and ore in its colossal hands, the terror was gone; grief and seething hatred wholly replaced it.]
[And Freya knew, deep down, inexplicably, that her family was dead.]
[She tried to reject it. Freya pulled out her phone with trembling hands that felt too large and like they should've been battered and bruised. She had parents. She remembered them raising her. They lived in the same damn part of the city as her. Still, she couldn't steady her fingers; she kept hitting the wrong app and contact and closing the wrong screen and—the frustration of failing to make a simple phone call was too much, on top of everything else. Freya wheeled about pitched her phone at the window with a furious shout, but she couldn't even take satisfaction in the way the device or the pane cracked.]
[Freya leaned over the countertop, eyes screwed shut, trying to ground herself. The emotions were overwhelming, too vivid, and squeezed her chest as a vice would. It was hard to breathe.]
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What else was I supposed to do? You have all the answers, spit it out!
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It's not a great big mystery. There's this little concept of not being an ass all the time? Don't even have to go all the way to sainthood—even part-time'd be great.
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[Ugh. Ugh. She was going to hit Freya if this kept up. Lucy ground her teeth together and stalked stiff-kneed across the kitchen, grabbing after the dust pan. It was only a few feet of space between them; it might not be enough.]
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Certainly not as complicated as you make it out to be, [Freya grumbled.]
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...and she didn't have an answer or a comeback. Just more angry thoughts, and...confused, frustrated thoughts. Freya didn't know what it was like, what Lucy had been through, she didn't understand, just—
Sweep all the little bits of glass into the dustpan. Forget her roommate was there. This was fine. Lucy was facing away from Freya, she could pretend she was alone.
...until she had to dump all the glass bits into the trash. She looked up—and saw her roommate again. More importantly, she was reminded of the state of the window.]
You going to fix that?
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[But something had to be done. She could focus on that much.]
No, I think I'll leave it right there for the landlord to notice. [Something had to be done tonight. This is not how she wanted to spend the night before a possibly haunted camping trip. She strode over to the hall closet, coming back with duct tape and measuring tape, and moved the trash can to the window. Freya started layering tape over the whole pane.]
[During this process, though, that anger cools into something leaden and awful.]
...sorry.
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She'd get her phone back in a mo—
What did Freya say?
The sweeping stopped.]
...why are you apologizing to me?
[It wasn't a vitriolic snap. Lucy sounded bewildered.]
no subject
That's what you say when you make an ass of yourself.
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Do you want me to leave?
[Some of Lucy's usual bite had returned, but she still sounded like she'd been knocked off balance.]
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'd be a lot quicker with another set of hands. [And as a bonus, the landlord would be less likely to notice.]
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A hand appeared, sort of; mostly a transparent shimmer of one. It rested its fingers against the opposite corner of the broken window, waiting for instruction.
At least it had good manners.]
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[—and staggered back suddenly with a startled curse. Was that a fucking hand?]
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What?!
[Was there more glass over there, or something else sharp Freya cut herself on?]
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Did you see that?
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[—wait.
The only thing that should have been over there was...Lucy. Part of her, anyway.
Lucy stared at the vector still hovering over her shoulder, though of course now it wasn't listening to instruction. Like wiggling one's ears on command. She frowned, stretching her physical hand out. The vector mimicked the motion, floating off without being limited by bones and ligaments until it stopped two meters away again, roughly where it was before.]
...that?
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...Yeah. That. That's you?
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[They appeared from somewhere behind her back when she wanted to reach for something, hummed discordantly, and...gave her horrible migraines if overused.]
They just...do that.
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[Freya makes a little bit of a weird face at it before turning back to the taped-over window and striking it with her phone again. Damn thing's broken, so might as well use the glorified paper-weight for something useful.]
Guess they're good for glass. [And once the window's cracked through, she starts to carefully remove the chunks.]
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After a moment, the hand floated down to bat Freya's hand away from the glass shards. Its 'touch' was strangely cool and briefly numbing.]
Let me do that.
[The hand tugged one of the larger broken pieces free, dropping it into the trash can. Making it move like that was...complicated. A headache started to prickle at Lucy's temples, but it wasn't a big one. For now.]
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