fauxmarth: (sparkly bishojo mode activated)
lυcιna, тнe ғυтυre wιтneѕѕ ([personal profile] fauxmarth) wrote in [community profile] maskormenacelogs2020-08-04 12:39 pm

on and on [OPEN]

WHO: Lucina, any
WHERE: Various cities
WHEN: August
WHAT: Various prompts
WARNINGS: some body horror mention (it will be tagged in comments as-needed)


o1. Heropa, a book shop, midday

There's no good and proper way to cope with drastic change, is there? She can't imagine there is. Especially when the change isn't the sort that involves fighting for one's life or rescuing others or some very clear finish line...

Lucina pulls another book out by the spine, turning it over to stare at the cover, frowning. THE CLIMB, it read, Meditations for Coping with Loss and Grief.

Gods, even holding such a book fills her with shame and dread. What business did she have with such a thing? What sort of warrior is she, anyway? And what could a book of this world hold for a girl estranged from her dying homeland, estranged from her deceased family, now estranged from the man she loves? It's frustrating enough to feel as she does, never mind trying to do something to face those feelings directly.

With a vexed huff, she pushes the book back onto the shelf, rifling into her purse for her phone, checking the Network user list for the umpteenth time in so many minutes.

Still nothing.

But it's only been three days. It'll be alright. Last time had been longer -- two weeks or so? It was fine.

She just needed a distraction. Something to get out of her own head for a while, and certainly not to meditate on things!

With that in mind, she briskly turns and hastens out of the aisle into the walkway--

--into someone.



o2. De Chima, a memorial park, late night/early morning

She had forgotten it was already two years since the disaster in downtown De Chima, back when the OTO conducted its most heinous experiment and sent blocks of the city into pure horror. Of course, Lucina never forgot what happened there -- to the city, to the people...to her -- but its anniversary having come so swiftly and passed without a blink was a surprise to her.

Had she really been moving on?

Of course, upon realizing this, the nightmares returned to join in with the anxieties already planted from Guzma's export, and it seemed she'd not find a wink of sleep that wasn't prefaced and followed by jolting awake in a cold sweat, having to throw sheets off for fear of something growing, creeping all over and inside her.

This latest time is the worst, and she has to take several minutes just to calm her breath and feel something of herself again, hugging her arms close and slouching on the edge of the bed. It's no use to try and lie down again, wired as she now is, and so she gets up, showers off and gets changed, setting off into the night, to the porter.

To De Chima.


What's left of the disaster is a modest, fenced park. The trees here are eerie to behold in the day and far, far worse in the gloom of nighttime lamplight: Vibrant and healthy though they all are, their trunks and limbs take on the silhouetted shapes of humans of all sizes.

Because that's what they are -- human. Scientists confirmed with horror that the DNA samples from these organisms match humans -- humans that had undergone some of the worst the Shimmer could offer. Something that could've very easily been Lucina herself...something she should've fought harder to stop.

Her fingers glide along the plaque memorializing the event and persons lost, seated cross-legged on the grass and letting her thoughts travel back there until the sounds of someone approaching gives her a start.

"Who's there-?!" she calls, rolling onto her knees, hand on the hilt of her sword.



o3. Maurtia Falls, Helix, daytime

As days turn into a week and more, Lucina's focus frays, sharpens, and frays again in unpredictable waves. Tardiness leaves blemishes on her record of attendance for shifts and meetings at Helix, and more often than not those blemishes were simply because she forgot to sign in when she spent long days in the training rooms or simulation areas.

It's not really even training, either -- it's venting. Venting the best way she knows how: wielding a word, cutting through foes and shapes, desperate for speed and precision that lessens in repetition and over time.

Sometimes she just turned the holosims onto something softer: a meadow, a seashore, a forest...and then just lays there, trying to take stock of herself and her thoughts. There's better uses of her time, she's certain. But what if she were to bungle up out there? Be seen messing up? Then they'd tell her to slow down as she is...

There's no winning, is there?

So frustrating.

She checks her phone again.


o4. Misc
Make your own prompt!!!
forgeabettertomorrow: (Don't fail me now beautiful wings)

[personal profile] forgeabettertomorrow 2020-08-14 08:19 pm (UTC)(link)
He scoots over closer to her and puts an arm around her.

"We'll figure it out...I promise..."

He does his best to speak those words as if he truly believed them. At least when it came to his circumstances.
forgeabettertomorrow: (I don't really get it but...)

[personal profile] forgeabettertomorrow 2020-08-14 08:49 pm (UTC)(link)
He shakes his head as he stares up at the ceiling.

"No...I left before to get answers and I got them. Right now...I'm just focusing on...well, making due with however long I've apparently got left."
forgeabettertomorrow: (Ehehehe well...)

[personal profile] forgeabettertomorrow 2020-08-14 09:08 pm (UTC)(link)
He laughs softly.

"Don't worry. I'm not going anywhere again. I'm here until the last."