Penny Rose [ Serah Farron ] (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
rememberher) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
pawnstorm2016-11-09 11:02 pm
rememberher) wrote in pawnstorm2016-11-09 11:02 pm
[CLOSED] Back to the world
Who: Lux and Allen
When: Slightly forward-dated to November 10th
Where: Petrosian
What: After sleeping for nearly a month, Lux wakes up to an unexpected guest.
Rating: PG I guess idk
Warnings: There is only pain here.
The room was cold and dark, the smallest glimmer of golden Chrysanth moonslight filtering in from her curtains that early morning when Lux finally awoke. Her head felt muzzy and heavy, it was hard to say whether she was still asleep or awake; a fuzzy, hazy heat settling between her eyes like a shroud. Everything seemed to hurt, and even sitting up felt like a chore, her body hot-cold and shivering gently despite her trying to will it to stop.
Ah. It wasn't this bad when she fell asleep, maybe she shouldn't have put off going to the clinic.
Everything felt heavy, detached and somehow very surreal, like she was both in and outside of her own body. In control of her movements yet somehow watching from a distance. Sitting up and pulling the downy white comforter off her, she swept her feet around the side of the bed, standing slowly. Not slowly enough to keep the dizzy rush from holding her there briefly, but pushing through it, she made the very short walk from her bed to the window. Drawing the curtain back slightly, looking down at the street below...
And stopping quite suddenly, her hand holding the curtain open, the lights from the street flooding in.
It was different. The leaves on the trees were gone, and a glittering frost clung to their branches. It blanketed the road, and the clouds looked like it might snow at any moment. It was nothing like the night before—it was far too early for a cold snap like this. Standing there, silhouetted by the lamplights down below, Lux felt lightheaded, that dull, gnawing ache in her body and heat between her eyes miles away. Was she still dreaming, or—
...The moons. Hanging in the sky, illuminating the street with their golden light, her heart stopped. The last that she saw them, they had been dark. Dread settling in, Lux froze, her hand holding the curtain like it was her only anchor to the world.
She had fallen into another deep sleep, hadn't she..?
The gentle coo of Berenice startled her and, turning quickly, Lux stopped. Staring not because of the griffin sitting there, craning her neck to see and getting quite ready to leap toward the mage, but whose lap the creature was resting on. Because surely she was imagining it, this was a dream, right?
"Allen..?"
Her voice dusty and hoarse, Lux stared, not daring to move. Why was he..?
When: Slightly forward-dated to November 10th
Where: Petrosian
What: After sleeping for nearly a month, Lux wakes up to an unexpected guest.
Rating: PG I guess idk
Warnings: There is only pain here.
The room was cold and dark, the smallest glimmer of golden Chrysanth moonslight filtering in from her curtains that early morning when Lux finally awoke. Her head felt muzzy and heavy, it was hard to say whether she was still asleep or awake; a fuzzy, hazy heat settling between her eyes like a shroud. Everything seemed to hurt, and even sitting up felt like a chore, her body hot-cold and shivering gently despite her trying to will it to stop.
Ah. It wasn't this bad when she fell asleep, maybe she shouldn't have put off going to the clinic.
Everything felt heavy, detached and somehow very surreal, like she was both in and outside of her own body. In control of her movements yet somehow watching from a distance. Sitting up and pulling the downy white comforter off her, she swept her feet around the side of the bed, standing slowly. Not slowly enough to keep the dizzy rush from holding her there briefly, but pushing through it, she made the very short walk from her bed to the window. Drawing the curtain back slightly, looking down at the street below...
And stopping quite suddenly, her hand holding the curtain open, the lights from the street flooding in.
It was different. The leaves on the trees were gone, and a glittering frost clung to their branches. It blanketed the road, and the clouds looked like it might snow at any moment. It was nothing like the night before—it was far too early for a cold snap like this. Standing there, silhouetted by the lamplights down below, Lux felt lightheaded, that dull, gnawing ache in her body and heat between her eyes miles away. Was she still dreaming, or—
...The moons. Hanging in the sky, illuminating the street with their golden light, her heart stopped. The last that she saw them, they had been dark. Dread settling in, Lux froze, her hand holding the curtain like it was her only anchor to the world.
She had fallen into another deep sleep, hadn't she..?
The gentle coo of Berenice startled her and, turning quickly, Lux stopped. Staring not because of the griffin sitting there, craning her neck to see and getting quite ready to leap toward the mage, but whose lap the creature was resting on. Because surely she was imagining it, this was a dream, right?
"Allen..?"
Her voice dusty and hoarse, Lux stared, not daring to move. Why was he..?
no subject
...then that's when you do lose.
So he cants his head to the side a little at her expression—at that implication—and just.. smiles.
In something wrought so very gossamer by the need to believe it's okay ]
There was a battle in the forest. In Merilorn.
I guess you could say we didn't really lose or win since we made it out alive and we helped a lot of people to safety. Not everyone, but... [ but that hurt. a lot; losing anyone in that sea of walking dead to become the same ]
..It's a lot bigger than just an illness, and they were able to release a darkness in the forest. It was meant to do this, the virus—[ as for by who.. she can probably guess ]—so we're going to have to be ready to fight again, I imagine.
no subject
There was a clear problem, and thus, she needed to find a solution.
Yes, she was worried about her ability to do so, still not completely used to the light she wove in this world, but she would not accept defeat, would not accept failure. She would fight it with her dying breath if she had to.
Because what does light do best? It shines, even in the infinite darkness.
But Allen, to smile like that, something that seemed both strong and yet... so small at the same time. Fragile, like it might shatter at any moment. His words only further punctuated that, saying so much more than he ever could. A battle in Merilorn, the place that Masamune told her might have been rotting from the inside out, where he, one of the bravest (brazen) men she knew dared not tread.
A sense of dread, of unease, of something there that should not be, bearing down on him. Messed up, he said. And what he didn't...
That he was afraid. Masamune Date, a man who she could scarcely believe was afraid of anything... had been afraid.
And at that she looked struck, guilt washing over her like a torrent. Why?! Why didn't she say something?! The illness in Petrosian, the sickening taint that fell over the forest, she doubted that they were related, and yet—
Dark magic gripped, perverted that once beautiful forest, and they were made to fight it. A lot bigger than just an illness, he said.
...His expression.
What happened within those woods? ...Something that made Allen too so visibly frayed. Uncertain. Afraid? Or..? ]
...I'm sorry.
[ It was small, not quite weak but quite heavy. Because to wear an expression like that...
(It was not unlike that night. After she...)
What were you made to see out there? Something she couldn't protect him from, and, judging from his face, something that had left a lasting mark. And to that, she hesitated for a moment, doing the only thing that she could think to in that moment.
She embraced him in silence, tightly, as if to ground him. If she could. Both arms thrown around him, she held firm, not saying a word after that, her signature still wavering from illness but strong.
I will make this right. I promise. ]
1/2
To be outraged by the abominations there and horrified by them, and be moved to eradicate them and give them rest by feeling grief for such a thing being allowed to pass.
Such is the state Allen Walker is most familiar with, actually. And why that forest was a return to so many things that make him smile like that.
But the embrace startles him, enough so that he takes a quick breath both in surprise—and because of a small flinch. That new and still-raw wound not from any physical blow cleaving, well... the most of him from when he struck himself. Mostly because it always aches at some deeper-than-skin level, not that he really stops long to dwell on it.
He blinks quickly though, that she was moved embrace him so, and... hesitates for a moment. Precariously, like on a ledge.
Lux— ]
2/2
And instead of quietly sheepish smiles and patting her a little awkwardly on the back, to try and make matters lighter, he just loops an arm around her to settle at the small of her back. Something so understated and simple it's more of an acknowledgement of being embraced than returning it. ]
I know. [ And it is the most gentle, accepting sort of statement.
And yet... ] But you don't have anything to apologize for.
Because if our positions were reversed.. I'd feel the same.
[ Which is perhaps a feeling he's known well before, judging by the so very soft yet heavy tone in which he speaks beside her ear. So if her signatures radiates that fierce immobile strength despite illness, his is that strength and certainty of unwavering.. acceptance?
Ah. Faith.
I know, but it's okay. ]
no subject
But she felt it, even if, in that instant, she didn't want to. Muscles tightening and breath hitched almost raggedly so as he flinched against her. And as quickly as she embraced him, Lux froze, even as he spoke peaceably against her ear. Words that were gentle, accepting and kind.
She panicked, her embrace easing as her arms almost seemed to hang suspended, that strength wavering for just a moment. Because, as he had observed before, she was nothing if not extremely perceptive. ]
...You're hurt.
[ It wasn't a question, but a half-startled statement, her posture quite rigid, holding him like he were made of glass before she drew back, her hands resting on his shoulders, eyes flickering between his and brow creased in worry. ]
What happened?
1/2
2/2
Ah.. we were stuck fighting in the forest for several days before we found our way out.
I suppose some of us got a little beat up. [ And the way in which he says it is... well of course even he would be injured, right?
Allen's an Exorcist. It's just how he understands battle. They always come back with wounds that will heal. ]
It's fine— [ see he'll even offer her a much more merry, perfectly cheered sort of smile as he points up to himself.
That it's an act to try and make her feel better—well he is a performer, is he not? ]
—by now our wounds have recovered anyway.
[ It's also not disingenuous. ]
[1/2]
[2/2]
It was worn, her voice, and her expression only changed slightly, hardening just so. Because the last time he made light of something like this...
That was something she wouldn't press him on ever again. His past. That instant when he nearly killed himself to destroy an akuma. Something that frightened her, that she promised that she would not allow to happen again. It couldn't, he said in jest.
(...then why did she have a sudden, sickening feeling of deja vu?)
Her signature wavering for the briefest moment, she gripped his shoulders a bit, staring up at him, her eyes burning with conviction. ]
But yours haven't.
Don't lie to me, Allen.
[ You can trust her. She was strong, she could take anything that happened there. Anything that happened to him. ]
What happened?
1/2
To her credit, she manages to take him by surprise at that. Gripping him by the shoulders so suddenly and it is, ironically, probably for the first time in his life anyone's ever called him on it quite like that. Not to smile like he does, certainly. But like that?
Stop lying.. ]
2/2
[ A little... pained, perhaps—he brings a hand up to touch her cheek. The ungloved right one. And will smile in such a way where it's so infinitely fond... and yet rather apologetic as well. ]
I'm not. [ One brush and then two, tucking some hair back behind her ear. ]
Even though the scars remain, our wounds will always heal. And because we have them, we remember what was so important to us to fight for.
[ Or to risk dying for. Not to let himself hurt anyone. ]
I could never regret something like that.
So please don't be sad about such a thing? [ Because he really is okay now, see?
At least, aside from the rotting-from-the-inside zombie plague. ]
[1/2]
...That night, in the infirmary. When she learned the origin of that jagged scar that seemed to rend him in two.
"And because we have them, we remember what was so important to us to fight for."
The mark left by his own blade, something that should have killed him. That he would, could never regret, she knew.
He saw himself as a weapon. That was what he said, right? Such was the fate of a parasitic-type, one whose sole purpose was to destroy akuma. To protect. Allen Walker, someone who fought with his very being, who balanced on that tightrope of life and death for the sake of others; a person who she felt such much for, yet... knew so little about.
Who could, without so much as a second thought—
"I could never regret something like that. So please don't be sad about such a thing?"
The color seemed to drain from her face then as he smiled at her, as if he were apologizing for something. Even as her light spell began to fade, she could still see it in the dimming light. Silent, save for the slow breath she took from her nose, shoulders raising just so, rigidly.
She promised, that night when emotions were so raw, as she clung to her own mortality, that she would never allow such a thing to happen to him again. That he would never have to put himself through that, that she would protect him.
With her last breath, if it came to it. She would keep going, again and again, until she knew that he was safe. ]
...
[ ...And she failed. Had she been there, maybe he—
No. She knew better than that. Her being there wouldn't have changed a thing.
Something wet suddenly rolling over his fingers, that strength in her signature seemed worlds away, dulled by something else.
Overwhelming guilt and helplessness. ]
[2/2]
[ Quiet and thin, she was quick to move away, pulling away from his touch and one-armed embrace with a helpless sort of laugh, putting her hands on her cheeks as if to test her temperature. Quickly wiping away what few tears that had managed to fall. Trying to smile through it. Because it was ridiculous, wasn't it? All of this was ridiculous.
(Don't let him see.) ]
Sorry, I... I feel a bit warm. Maybe you're right, I should get some rest.
[ It was frayed, her voice, and the light spell finally flickering out in a quiet dispersion of colors, she let her chin dip, angling herself slightly away.
(Don't let him see.)
She laughed a bit at herself, to try to defuse the situation.
(She couldn't... actually protect him, could she? It was stupid to think so, to assume...) ]
I'm sorry...
1/3
Crying... Because he got hurt?
Lux... he always gets hurt. It's who he is. But to shutter herself away like that, to dim and cut off feeling entirely— ]
2/3
And it's why he will move both smoothly and certainly; one knee coming up onto the bedside and, pivoting to lean over her, both hands sweeping up to catch her face. ]
Lux— [ Strong as it is soft. Rough-soft, and bespeaking in a manner that while calm...
... he's actually a little upset about that.
Because it's something... it's something he didn't want to push on before. Because of knowing how much it hurt her and not ever wanting to do something to hurt her; as Allen is with all of his friends and why he will sacrifice himself and his honesty to keep them from being hurt by the nature of himself. Balancing one and then the other, being true to himself and trying to be mindful of how that nature itself pains people that care about him. So he'll catch her up like that in a gesture that's both a gently commanding please listen to me as much as it's about his thumbs sweeping along her cheeks and brushing away the lingering dampness. ]
...please stop.
[ And will, like someone who's just rushed to the edge of a cliff, come to a dead-soft stop.
A dead stop, where he might continued to speak in that quietly rough-soft impassioned tone...]
3/3
Please stop, when if anyone broke their promise it's me.
[1/3]
The actual one? Far more complicated than that.
This was war, people were going to get hurt. The both of them were going to get hurt. Getting hurt was inevitable, for the both of them. He shouldered it better to be sure, even outside of being a Rook, but that wasn't why she was upset. Why she cried despite knowing that something like this... wasn't something to cry over.
But to allow something like this to happen, to be helpless to stop him from hurting in that way—sad wasn't it. Anger, frustration; at herself, not at him. And an overwhelming sense that she couldn't do anything. Couldn't fix this.
As someone who prided herself on being a beacon of hope for others, who fought to solve problems, to keep others safe, knowing that she couldn't do that for someone she loved...
It went well beyond an idealistic promise that she made in the heat of the moment.
What if you had died, Allen?
What if you had died alone..?
...That was why she cried, knowing that no matter what she did, that was the extent of her ability. That scars like the one that jagged across his torso might (would) continue to happen, and she was helpless to stop that. That feeling of overwhelming guilt. ]
Thank you again for—
[2/3]
Oh.
Oh, she made a terrible mistake just now.
"Please stop."
Did he know what he was asking? Did he truly know? Hesitantly looking up at him through her lashes, that put-upon smile miles away by now, she willed herself to stay composed just then. No, no this was all wrong, this wasn't... what she wanted. This wasn't what was supposed to happen. That much was clear on her face, even in the moons' light.
And as she readied herself to refute him, to plead her case— ]
[3/3]
I... I don't...
[ The briefest look of confusion creeping into her features, she searched his face. What..? ]
no subject
He smiles gently, palms sliding down to her neck instead—not quite to her shoulders—so as not to be quite so chiding, and his expression flickers. Something a little heavier but peaceable as she tries to read his expression, so obviously mystified. ]
...when I swore to be an Exorcist...
When I promised to be that no matter what—
[ How can he explain that, when she understands him so well but can't understand that? ]
..it was promising that it will always be this way.
No matter what. If we're the ones who are hurt, it's so someone else isn't. And I'm glad for that.
But even making that promise... I didn't mean it to make you sad or break my promise to you, either. [ Also because she wasn't there and literally couldn't do anything but... he doubts that would make her feel better.. ] Because we promised to fight together and protect each other—but because we fight so others don't have to, we're going to get hurt.
And just because we do, it doesn't mean we failed to protect each other.
Because we're both going to be hurt time and time again because we fight. But that's okay, because we're both doing it together and it means we believe strongly in having something to defend. [ Love and camaraderie.
—which causes a more fond and genuinely content sort of smile to tug lopsidedly at the corner of his mouth. ]
And because I have that to look forward to, I could never regret what happens. No matter what kinds of scars they are. [ And even if he's said a lot, the heart of the matter...
Well... more gently, he starts to release her to pull back. ]
But I am sorry to make you worry because I got hurt when you weren't there.
straps in.........
And moreover, that she couldn't be there, and was instead fast asleep and safe despite the fact that she should have been fighting. She was here, safe in Petrosian while others risked their lives—lost them, from what he had implied earlier... That feeling of guilt was almost insurmountable, that it was difficult to see over it. Knowing that it happened, knowing that this would keep happening and that she was powerless to stop it.
Knowing that she would continue to break her promise again, and again, and again...
There is understanding, Allen, and then there is blind acceptance. She was unwilling to hedge toward the latter, even if she knew (understood) that that might be her only option. And it hurt, that she couldn't stop it. That in wars such as these, ones that she was never truly meant to fight, she might lose those that she cared about. ]
You didn't—
[ Eyes snapping open, she stopped herself. Let him say his piece, this was important.
...Did he really think that he made her sad? Allen, it was uncanny how you could understand her so thoroughly at times, yet in others completely miss your mark. Getting hurt, that was a given. No, she would not be upset if it were just that.
It was that feeling that she couldn't help but shake, that somehow history had repeated itself. Because when she promised him that day that he would not have to bear another scar like the one he received that day, likely well before they met... That was the one she feared that she had broken, and it turned her stomach. Made her feel sick.
Feeling him pull back, she took another breath, a bit shallower this time. Slowly leaning over, she let the crown of her head rest just below his right shoulder, taking a deep breath. As if what she would say—what she needed to say—was not something that she wanted to. ]
I know that, and I accept it. I know that there will be times when we can't fully protect each other, that we'll get hurt... or worse. But...
[ She was thankful he couldn't see her face then. She might lose her nerve otherwise. A breath; ]
But the least I want to do is try to protect you from forgetting yourself.
[ Because to be willing to go to such lengths to protect others... That darkness he talked about in the woods...
You did something like that again, didn't you Allen? Throwing your own safety, your life on the line as a means to an end. ]
1/2
Well, she gets the honor of being one of the few people able to say something he was so completely not expecting that he's startled speechlessness. Because it didn't even occur to him... To Allen, who sees bearing a scar like he received that day, getting hurt over and over—it's a fact of life. We get hurt protecting the things we believe are important.
(Even in the cases where he feels he must protect them from himself.)
But that the fact he was hurt when she could do nothing about it isn't why she was upset, but that it was because.. ]
! [ Ah. Well.
Looking down at the back of her head, expression a little mixed-up, he doesn't have a response at first. Is that what he did? Forget himself?
To the point where she felt she had to protect him from that...? ]
...
2/2
[ Reaching for her hands after a moment, his expression settles finally. Smiling a little in a way that's both heavy and a little wry, and he gives her hands a small squeeze. Lightly apologetic, perhaps. Because...
..I guess I don't understand the difference then. Because maybe to Allen there isn't one.
But he won't say that aloud. It would be too cruel. Also also because— ]
Lux— [ featherlight. please look at him? ]
Having something to look forward to means having something to live for. [ And isn't that what she means to when she says not to forget himself in battle? Given..
.. given the battle on the plateau. But more important than that, the thing that makes decisions that risk himself hard, that make him rush headfirst into danger time and time again with a wordless apology on his lips even if it makes him no less certain of his decision—
(for the possibility of losing one's home and family and the grief it causes them)
—the thing she told him and promise they made before they left Caissa last. ]
Didn't you already give that sort of reason to me?
[1/2]
Even if it was truly how she felt. Because she knew, even as those words fell from her lips, that somehow he would disagree. That he would, in a way that only he could, tell her that she had it wrong. That that was how he was. How he always would be. Thanking her, perhaps.
And listening to his words, she paused. That's... ]
Allen...
[ She took a deep breath then, finally moving. Lifting her head as she looked up at him.
"Didn't you already give that sort of reason to me?"
Honestly, Lux should be elated with those words. That he felt that way. Yet... words hardly seemed to match with actions, and while she couldn't be certain, could never truly be certain unless she pinned him, made him tell her what happened—
Knowing that he wouldn't, because if she knew him well enough, it was that he would never directly do or say anything to hurt her unless completely necessary. That he couldn't see it the same way she did, and for most things that was all right. But this— ]
[2/2]
Something like this wasn't a thing that he could completely understand, so completely willing to make decisions like he had that day. Like she suspected he did in the forest. And she could never understand why.
"Having something to look forward to means having something to live for."
She couldn't be entirely sure what it was (she could certainly assume, and that thought itself was heady and dizzying and not something she wanted to address at the moment, lest she lose her nerve), but that it wasn't enough to make him consider himself even just a bit—
That he could still potentially lose himself so thoroughly that he might...
She pulled her hand away then, the one gripped by his ungloved right, slowly bringing it to his cheek, resting it there almost like a statement all its own. Her other hand gripping his left hand, the one that, were things different, represented so much of him that she both loved and hated, fingers weaving between his in a sort of resolute promise and apology (she would apologize later), she adjusted. Sat on her knees, level with him, and drew closer quite gingerly.
Foreheads touching first, then closing the space between, lips brushed against lips with a gentle sort of abrupt urgency as if to say:
Stop talking and listen and listen to what she's saying, Allen Walker.
(Color, just the same as it always was, but so vivid that they seemed alive, flowing from her like an aurora. Neither warm nor cold, but strong, buzzing with emotions. Frustration, a gentle tinge of anger. Fondness and a strange sense of longing even in that torrent of irritation. Fear.)
Not allowing her a moment to think of what she had just done, or to even enjoy the feeling of it, Lux drew back, forehead hovering just shy of his, her eyes fluttering open slowly. Her voice was soft, hardly above a whisper, and raw with emotion and illness. Yet her words were resolute, almost scolding. ]
Then don't act as if your life means nothing.
(no subject)
(no subject)
1/2
2/2
[1/3]
[2/3]
[3/3]
(no subject)
[1/2]
[2/2]
1/2
2/2
[1/2]
[2/2]
1/2
2/2
(no subject)
1/3
2/3
3/3
[1/2]
[2/2]
1/2
2/2
[1/2]
[2/2]
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)