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.]
no subject
Yeah. I'm sick. [Her words were bitter and sharply punctuated.] That's what's wrong. [And just as sarcastic. Freya looked over her shoulder into order snatch the device out of Lucy's hands. This was important; quit delaying her. She had to call and check—make sure they was okay.]
no subject
The fuck is your problem?
no subject
[Freya set the phone on the countertop after opening the dialer to keep it still. She had a better control of her breathing and her trembling had lessened, but it still took effort and concentration to accurately tap out the number she knew by heart.]
[Keeping her voice even was going to be another challenge altogether, but it was what it was. The recipient answered just as she'd pressed the phone to her ear.] Hey, Dad.
no subject
So Lucy started sweeping up the fragments of glass. Angrily.]
no subject
No, I'm fine. Promise. Just—calling to make sure you two are alright. Nightmare. That's all.
[She muttered a quick right, love you and closed the call, setting Lucy's phone down. The taller woman's silent—then strikes the countertop with her fist. The pain's both refreshing, in a way, a respite from the grief and the anger, and a further annoyance.]
[She's never experienced anything like this before. She had to do something with that rage coiling in her chest; Freya knew she couldn't just keep breaking things. That didn't help anything.]
no subject
Hearing Freya slam her hand down made her jump, though, and Lucy glanced over her shoulder irritably.]
Done yet?
no subject
Why [her voice is rough again, but with far less of the explosive anger from earlier,] does everything that falls out of your mouth try to pick a fight? Get it through your head right now that I don't have the patience today.
no subject
Because—
[She was like that. She'd always been like that, since she was small; it was how she survived, how she was listened to, and so what if people didn't want to talk to her again? It's not like anyone—
...said as much, to her? Confronted that anger, and threw it back into her face?
The irritation on Lucy's face wavered and she looked away, brows still furrowed and shoulders still tense. She didn't finish the sentence.]
no subject
[Just what were these visions? What was the point of them? What were they trying to show her? ...why did she only see monsters and destruction and despair in them?]
[Freya mumbled something quietly.]
no subject
Because I've always been like that! I had to be!
[No one...really talked to her about it. If someone mentioned it was bad, it was because everything she was doing was bad. Bad people were like this. And she was a bad person. It made comprehending everything that had happened to her much simpler.
...not necessarily any more pleasant.]
no subject
[She drew one of those thin flexible cutting boards out of a drawer and knelt down, combing the floor with its flat edge to catch small shards.] Like that's some kind of excuse to be an ass all the time?
no subject
What else was I supposed to do? You have all the answers, spit it out!
no subject
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.
no subject
[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.]
no subject
Certainly not as complicated as you make it out to be, [Freya grumbled.]
no subject
...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?
no subject
[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.
no subject
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.
no subject
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.]
no subject
'd be a lot quicker with another set of hands. [And as a bonus, the landlord would be less likely to notice.]
no subject
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.]
no subject
[—and staggered back suddenly with a startled curse. Was that a fucking hand?]
no subject
What?!
[Was there more glass over there, or something else sharp Freya cut herself on?]
no subject
Did you see that?
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)