lυcιna, тнe ғυтυre wιтneѕѕ (
fauxmarth) wrote in
maskormenacelogs2020-08-04 12:39 pm
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Entry tags:
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!!!
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!!!
no subject
no subject
no subject
I'm not built like most people, remember Lucina? You've met the real me. My life is numbers and logic. I was literally made to adapt.
no subject
[and what was so logical about the way she'd been ghosted?!
...was that logical? or...mathematical???]
no subject
[Okay he doesn't think in binary, but it sounded cool.
As for her... people he cares about are special. They don't get the computer brain. And sometimes, for M, he feels that's where he messes up the most.]
no subject
And all I have is...maybes. [she exhales, letting her hands drop to the counter, fingers curling and uncurling on the edge of it as she frowns downward.]
Maybe do this...maybe wait for that...maybe something will change...maybe it won't... No math, no odds, just...maybe.
no subject
[It's ruined relationships before. One very important one.]
The thing about maybes is you have to pick an outcome and hope for the best. It might not be what you want in the end, but it's better than drowning in possible outcomes.
Now, you want to talk about what's eating at you?
no subject
...A lot. Things just, all of a sudden... [her head shakes.] Ever since Luke spoke to me, things went out of control.
[she hesitates, swallowing.]
And Guzma's still gone...I don't know how long he'll...or if he's gone for good, or... [her shoulders droop.] And whether or not I'm...wallowing for no good reason... [she clicks her tongue at herself, face reddening.] And it'd be all well and fine to be embarrassed about it if he just! Came back already...!
no subject
[He feels he must have missed something.]
As for your beau... even if it is temporary, it's okay to mourn him. If there's one thing being surrounded by normal people that I've learned it's to be honest with your feelings.
You'd still miss him even if it was something mundane like a holiday. That, with the added anxiety of not knowing if he's coming back...
no subject
she shakes her head.]
Before he disappeared, Luke provoked him. [engh.] By...telling him he has feelings for me. And asking to fight him about it. [she rubs at her face again, expression pained.]
And now he's back in Alola. And forgot me. That's what happens in going back, isn't it?
no subject
[He isn't going to lie to her. Not when he himself went back once and can confirm the rumor.]
But none of that changes how you feel. It still feels like shit when you've grown to care for someone and they leave.
no subject
...of course, it's just going to lead to a bunch of shake settling heavily all at once instead, but hey. a girl can try.
she exhales heavily, setting the glass down, eyes cast down on it, looking more like she's just thrown back a doubleshot of whisky than flavored protein.]
I just...think about...how he won't remember any of this. And he'll go back to thinking he's worthless. [her expression gets cloudy with pain.] And that he can't do any better...when it's not true at all.
I don't want all of this to be erased...! [she huffs, pushing herself away from the counter and turning around, dragging her hands up into her bangs for a beat before pressing the heels of her palms into her eyes. no more crying. she's sick of it! it's all she feels like she's done lately, even if it isn't true.]
I'm so sick of this!
no subject
[M sighs before slipping around to the other side of the island, where Lucina is. He stands beside her and sort of hugs her from the side.]
But if he learned it here, he can learn it back home too. You can give up hope on him.
[As soon as the words leave his lips, he knows he's a fucking hypocrite. It's what people tried to tell him about Andrew when he left.]
no subject
mumbled:] I'd rather it here. [with me.] But complaining about it won't do much, will it?