The tempest is strong, but eventually even that must slow. The rain continues, more a drizzle than a downpour, and the city remains flooded as even now there have been no major chances to fix what has been broken. The water is murky, dolphins still scattered throughout and once in a while someone will see a floating robot head drifting along the surface. On top of that, all communications with CERES are still out and all that has been left for you to do is to adapt, to survive.
And then, there is a presence.
It is a presence that can be felt by everyone in the city; a chill down your spine, the feeling that there is someone here who does not belong here (or maybe that you are the one who doesn't belong). No matter where you are, you will hear his voice in your head, even as you cannot see him, not just yet. It seems there really is something strange about this weather, and the source has finally decided to reveal himself. Angrily.
 You wanted us out of your city! You wanted us gone from this stream and cast off elsewhere, to let you do as you please and play in your metal and blood! Yet when it comes to us, our needs, you have dismissed them. Well, now you'll pay for it, Julius Vincere. You and your stolen creatures! You think we know nothing of this place? We know everything and we would like what is ours back.
[ After a moment, quietly: ]
... Ah, was that too much?
|
PHASE IV [ 16 00 ] Days later and the rain continues to fall endlessly. It has lessened somewhat in intensity but doesn't show any signs of completely stopping. Rain, day in and day out until day four, when it quickly becomes clear that something unusual is happening with the water itself. Odd instances of the water not acting normal can be seen all over the city and may even start happening to you.
For instance, a whirlpool will suddenly appear out of nowhere, growing in intensity until it drags everyone down with it. Then it disappears as quickly as it appeared, fickle but seemingly merciful. There's no limit to where these whirlpools might be, striking in any place with enough water -- even inside buildings.
Then, there are the concentrated storm clouds suddenly appearing over the heads of certain people, dumping rain extra-heavily on them while everyone else carries on beneath what is still just a light rainfall. Even an umbrella won't help you since the storm cloud just slips on right underneath it! That's really rude, storm cloud.
And if you're not quick enough to get out of the water, you may also suddenly find yourself the victim of a mini-wave, water rising in an arc clearly directed at you despite the fact that there was nothing to cause the wave in the first place. These waves are certainly filled with a bit of malice. Hopefully you can get out of dodge quick!
And the targets of these... well, pranks, are mostly people associated with fire, though people who have the earth or air elements will also find themselves on the receiving end of such events. Strangely enough, those who have been graced with the water element will experience nothing of the sort. In fact, the rainfall may even stop as they move about, allowing them to progress without getting wet at all even as it pours down on everyone around them. Wait, how are you doing that?
PHASE V [ 1900 ] Aside from the pranks, the water still isn't completely... settled. Where there are no whirlpools or waves or storm clouds, the water is eerily still, and looking into it might cause some strange things to happen to you.
In fact, anyone who looks into the water for too long will suddenly find themselves feeling an easy, quiet peace. The rainfall overhead and the sound of anything around them will feel miles and miles away. Instead, you will be gifted startlingly sharp and vibrant visions of your home world being destroyed. Places you love are rendered to nothingness while friends and family are cut down by strange, alien creatures that all wear masks. No matter how close you try to look at them, processing the shape of these aliens will be impossible. All you will remember is the mask, each one having a crudely drawn smile on the front. You may even start to feel your face equally start to smile, edges of your mouth being pulled upwards and upwards and --
These visions will drag you further and further down towards the water as time passes, that eerie peace fogging your brain all the while. And if someone doesn't come by to save you, you might just get dragged right under. Which wouldn't be so bad, would it? At least you'll be home again.
PHASE VI [ 1200 ] And then, on the fifth day at noon, all of a sudden, everything stops.
The rain ceases. The air is still, as is the water still flooding the streets. Those trapped will be untrapped, those wet will... well, unfortunately remain wet.
Then, there is a message.
It's spoken aloud and the speaker can be found seated on the fallen platform in the Residential District. The speaker is a strong looking creature, sure and proud and most certainly inhuman with his horns and goat legs. Next to him is another being, human in shape despite being entirely made up of... cloud? The being hangs idly in the air next to the creature, both seeming entirely familiar with one another. But even so, the message can be heard no matter where you are -- almost more mentally than verbally -- and the voice is most certainly angry.
"I'm growing tired of these games, Julius Vincere. You've taken what binds us, our Bridge, and have given us gifts in exchange. The gifts have stopped and we would like what is ours once more so --"
There's an interjection, from another voice. It is light and airy, pleasant to listen to but as chilling as breath on the back of your neck. "You can keep the lights, the lights are nice. Especially the purple ones. Well, on occasion the purple ones are nice. Lights are acceptable."
Anyone watching this live will see the creature seem slightly baffled as he looks to his companion. The response that follows is a hushed, confused whisper, which is kind of... odd since they're talking telepathically. To everyone. "I-- What? When were we talking about lights? Wait, no, shut up. Now you threw me off. Look, just... just be quiet for a moment, Caeli."
"I don't really like purple."
This time, the interruption is ignored as the creature tries to fill his voice with the anger from earlier, but he doesn't entirely succeed. In the end, he just sounds annoyed. "We want what's ours. Give it back or this isn't going to stop. We let you have your little city and --"
"I don't really like lights either."
Then, silence. The creature just stares down at his hands and after a moment, gives a heavy sigh and closes his eyes. Still telepathically, to everyone, he asks his companion, "Why did you come with me if you aren't going to take this seriously?"
There's no reply after that, the two of them just sitting there in silence. The creature lifts his hands to rub at his temples while the cloud hangs there and despite the lack of face, seems entirely pleased with itself.
You can come talk to them, if you'd like.
BONUS [ xxxx ] One thing's for sure -- things are going a little haywire right now. But instead of it being code acting strangely, this strangeness is entirely physical. These changes may happen for an hour or two at a time or for just a few minutes, at least. Don't worry about it, perfectly normal!
➟ Air: You will suddenly feel incredibly weightless. What a nice feeling; it's as if all of your cares have drifted away... except wait, you're drifting away too! Someone may have to hold you down to keep you from floating off into the maws of those waiting monsters. Time to find an Earth buddy!
➟ Earth: Speak of the devil -- Earth people will suddenly find themselves feeling so weighted down they feel as though they could not move another step. On top of that, sometimes the ground opens up right beneath them, dropping them into a small pitfall. How did that happen?
➟ Fire: Any surge of strong emotion will light their hair on fire... but that doesn't appear to do any actual damage. Well, unless someone else decides to stick their hand in it. Phew. Go forth and look like the Dread Pirate Roberts or that one baddie from Hercules.
➟ Water: Suddenly you're able to walk on water. That's... actually incredibly handy, considering how much of it is around. Unfortunately, you can't help other people walk on water too; if they hold your hand, they'll drag you right down with them. Enjoy being able to stroll around flooded Cerealia as if nothing's wrong at all. At least, until the effects wear off quite suddenly.
[ Remember to apply proper warnings on threads with sensitive or inappropriate material and do let a mod know if your thread careens off into maiming or canoodling so we can lock the log. ] |
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v!
for now, he's taken refuge in a derelict hotel under the pretense of gathering his bearings when he's beside himself in strangled grief, imitating some vestige of calm when forcibly staggered, meandering for the sake of mental displacement. even after partially drying out, his cerevice is still busted, which fully warranted an impromptu trip to the tech & auto shop after the floods receded (if the collective public ever returned to a sense of normality after something like this). straggling through one abandoned corridor, he diverts his gaze past android limbs strewn out en masse. with the way his feet have been squelching in his sneakers for the last couple of hours, he can't recall a period of time in past where he's ever pined so desperately for a dry pair of tube socks. it's two flights up the stairs and into a waiting lobby that makoto eventually catches sight of the guy treacherously perched over the open window, blinking intently at its depths.
the dazed glassiness of the man's eyes don't bode well in the slightest as makoto stumbles and lurches forward, frantically palming zack's shoulders as he tilts him back toward the relative safety of dry ground instead of plunging straight into a flood. ]
Please don't look too closely at the water! It's a really, really bad idea.
[ he barely misses having the air effectively choked out of him as makoto tumbles back, rolling to the side as his companion hits the ground with a compact thud. the silence that ensues is nothing less than relieved as makoto sits up, nearing knocking his head against a floor lamp in the process. ]
Are you alright?
!!!!!
So when even a forceful shake and an unignornable plea aren't enough, something has gone horribly, horribly wrong.
And even that pales in comparison to what he's seeing. Part of it isn't new: he's seen Midgar fall to pieces ever since that first "dream" repeated over and over again behind his eyelids, he's practically memorized the horror in the same way a general once had with droll epic poetry. Its rote is something he recognizes and ignores, repeat ad infinitum until the nightmare aspect of it seems almost laughable, as he tells himself over and over that it isn't real.
But then it shifts from a city falling apart to the implications of that destruction: the personal, gut wrenching details, visions of people, instead of a place. A pink ribbon ground into the filth of the slums, dirt that hasn't seen sunlight in an age, trampled underfoot. A flash of silver hair he can't find in a panicked crowd, despite how easy that's always been. Too many screams to properly place a voice to a name to a source (at least there's some mercy in it).
Zack's breathing heavy when he hits the floor, his stomach caught in his throat. He wants to yell, and cry, and vomit all at once, and all he does is strangle all of that on the air he's gasping for. 'No,' he wants to say. 'No,' he's not alright, NOTHING IS ALRIGHT. But instead, he just nods, waits to catch his breath, and pushes himself back up to a tentative sitting position.
Still nauseous, but it's fading along with the panic.]
Been worse.
[Not by much. But it's as close as he can get to a guarded answer when everything else is so open and obvious. Even unshaken, Zack Fair has never been regarded for his subtlety.]
What about you?
[Easier.]
♥♥♥ sorry for the lateness!! @__@
a mere second later and makoto would've caught only the fleeting glimpse of his frame as transposed in a freefall, already vanishing through stagnant water. gone. while the other man gathers his bearings, makoto shuts the glass pane down to its trembling sill, fastidiously tosses back the damask curtains, coaxing gradations of slivered warmth to pour back into the vacant spaces between them. it's only once they're both flooded by bracketing sun that he glances back, stricken still by the frigidly haunted stare, the pulse of zack's voice straining to effect some semblance of normalcy. ]
... You caught a glimpse of it, too. How CERES told us it happened when we first arrived.
[ intentional vagueness for their collective sanity.
releasing the drapes, makoto retreats to sit against the back of one sagging divan just adjacent to his acquaintance, the bones of his fingers flexing in jumpy semantics. uncertainty breeding nervous tics in real time. his mouth twists into a frown by increments, bleaching his expression in sempiternal guilt — the deep and swallowing fear of inadequacy. ]
I'm sorry. If I'd been a little faster, I could've stopped you from seeing it at all.
[ at that angle, he's framed by dissatisfaction, which only subsides when he glances up to ascertain zack's wellbeing — no breaks or sprains, no nascent bruises rising over his skin.
tentatively, makoto talks around his anxiety, soft and muted, words coming unglued. ]
Well, I wasn't expecting a flood. My friends were badly injured, so I thought I'd go out on a supply run. I haven't had much luck, though. [ a tremulous, halfhearted laugh rounds in his mouth when he gestures to the empty duffle bag haphazardly tossed some meters away in his wrenching terror to reach zack in time. ] I couldn't even find dry socks.
[ he nods, shifting to appraise him at length. ]
It's Makoto, by the way. I'm glad you're alright. You really scared me back there.
♥! sorry right back at you, lol.
He glances up at Makoto tenuously, not trusting his should-be-steeled nerves to not betray the fear pushed just under his skin, nor the confusion and rage boiling underneath that. Fat lot of good a childhood of military training does if he can't even keep it together in the middle of the very sort of crisis he's been (theoretically) trained to deal with, the sort of potential heroic moment he's been waiting for, only to find himself woefully underprepared.
If he can't keep it together for himself, he has to for everyone else. He has too many lifetimes to make up for, too much to live through for the sake of posthumous vicariousness.
He swallows around a growing dry lump in his throat--still better than the passing nausea--and cracks as much of a smile as he dares, a mimicry of a sentiment he wish he could find right now. It'll have to do.]
Zack. [His voice cracks, and it's far from the self-determined declaration it usually is.]
Are your friends alright? [The why are you busy worrying about me? remains unspoken. At least this is easier to focus on, and doesn't leave him confused and worried about worrying, let alone concerned with focusing internally.] I mean, you're doing what you can, right? Has to count for something.
[At least it gets easier the more he talks (or perhaps "rambles" is more apt); it gives him time to find a place to bury the pain for a moment, maybe forever if he can manage the denial that long, and to find his footing amid the concern: he's stabilized by his own.]
no need 4 that, ur 2 great!! i'm just a snail
Um, yeah. I'm looking for one of my friends right now. Rin Matsuoka. Maybe you've seen him around? His red hair tends to give him away.
[ guilelessly, makoto smiles, attempts to convey rin's vivacity with warmth alone and yet strangely discomfited by his lack of eloquence in the matter.
after all, makoto's personal narrative doesn't include militarism and conspiracies far beyond the radius of an upturned palm, beyond someone he won't one day reach. he can't — or won't — press further with zack's various misgivings. it's not the time, or the hour, or even the occasion when he's barely met the guy, humoring him with a conversation that has zero bearing on the world gone collapsible with the flood outside. inevitably, the articulate space between words always ended up more coherent than the words themselves when held to the light and pried apart for closer examination. his eyes shutter as a homage to his incorrigibility for passiveness, always prone to waiting as opposed to pushing any further than he should.
either way, it wouldn't change a thing. ]
My other friend is waiting for me, but I don't think he'll wake up for a while. He seemed really tired when I left. I didn't plan to leave him by himself for too long.
[ while he bears discretion as a fail-safe when overstepping any latent boundaries (a necessary precaution), he can't exactly leave zack in stride, especially after that plunge he'd nearly taken several stories down into the torrential deluge, water with awful recollections slowly dripping in. ]
Do you have anyone else with you? It's dangerous to be out here by yourself.
OH WELL THEN WE CAN BE SNAILS TOGETHER YAY
[Well, that's definitely not the name he expected to hear; he's so used to the idea now of everyone here getting pulled in from such a variety of places, that this is the first time he's honestly encountered anything different. (Not, of course, that he puts it past Rin to have other friends regardless, but surnames are a seeming rarity in use around here that it seems the easiest assumption to make.)
He swallows thickly, shakes his head, wishing that he had a better answer to give, moreso now than he has for days, even knowing that answers themselves are in pretty short supply.]
Not today, at any rate. I'm sure he's fine, though. [Whether that's added for Makoto's sake, or his own, he's not even sure.
Zack finally manages half a smile and a small huff that may have been a laugh under any other circumstance at the declaration of danger. He nods.]
I help when I can, but company's been pretty sparse. [AKA: no, he's alone, in more ways than one, saying it that way hits a little too close to home, especially after all he's seen.] Such is the life of a hero, huh?
[All that the city has taught him, and the flood with it, over the past few weeks, is a confirmation of one sneaking suspicion he would have been all-too-happy to cast off. Everyone leaves.]
i'm already cryign
[ his breathing hitches, a jittery artifact of anxiety he'd never entirely stamped out since arriving in tellus.
strangling the hoarseness out his words, makoto curbs his tendency to genuflect and opts for trampling his misgivings with a clean exhale, as if cross-interrogating zack would yield anything in the way of answers instead of ensuring they'd never be on polite speaking terms again. most days, makoto never voluntarily manufactures his own vocal chokehold, but it remains in his inflection: overbearing compulsion and concern strung so tightly it'd hum in disparate chords if struck.
after all, rin can handle himself. unlike makoto, he's never proven himself as anything less than capable.
that's what he's counting on. ]
If it doesn't bother you, I wouldn't mind sticking with you for a while! Even a hero could use the company from time to time.
[ and he doesn't take the ensuing comment without a smile, wide and full around the edges. heroes came in short supply when it came to iwatobi, but then there'd never been a need for a savior, or anyone who needed to rescue the collective populace of an otherwise ordinary fishing town. havoc is so displaced from the indolent somnolence of the life he led prior to tellus. back then, he was entirely freed from concerns over mortality and instead consumed with notions of the future that, even now, he wasn't quite prepared for: the stupor of endless monotony embrittling him like thin blown glass, unprepared for hairline fractures crisscrossing his composure.
jolting up to his feet, makoto snatches the duffel bag upended some feet away, padding back to extend zack a commiserative hand, peering back at the open entryway. ]
Why don't we try looking for things we can salvage for now? I found a bag, but nothing to put in it yet, ahaha.
i'm chinhandsing forever omg
After all, what's the best way to push down the tight feeling in his heart over what he's just seen? A distraction. Makoto seems trustworthy enough, amicable enough, and even if he hadn't known Rin, that alone would be enough.
The resulting smile at the hand up is weaker than he'd like, but it isn't forced. And that's a start.]
At your service. [Said with something closer to a laugh than he's managed in days.] I am an excellent finder.
[Not particularly true. But he is good at hitting things and taking their stuff. Effectively the same, right?]
same?!?!
in this circumstance, though, assenting to a favor worded as a convenience does nothing but consolidate makoto's good favor. he's always liked people who were honest, above all else — and even if he has nothing more than a cursory grasp on what kind of person he is (hero as one of the primary descriptors doesn't lend much in the way of credibility, but it sure is upfront). still, zack seems trustworthy, and makoto isn't so awful when judging character that he can't distinguish the difference between begrudged acceptance and a ready assent. ]
Great! Should we split floors and reconvene after thirty minutes or so? We could haul whatever we find to the middle and divide the inventory between ourselves after that.
[ humming idly, he gives the hallway another once-over before exiting the open entryway, swiveling around to address zack again. ]
Unless you want to stick together. Guess we have to decide on floors first, though. I've got to admit, I don't know how long it'll take to look through everything, but whatever strikes you as salvageable is something we should gather. Even if we don't take all of it, I'm sure the next person who passes by could put the things we find to some use.
no subject
Together.
[And it's said without the slightest hesitation.
Despite his general affability, and a policy that's seemingly "trust first, Greedo probably wouldn't have been shot at all," he does have a pretty keen sense of when that's not going to work out well in his favor. At least in the short term. (Long term, he ends up too secure, he sees what he wants to, and everything is tragedy, but the narrative begs to digress.) Whether or not it's particularly smart, Makoto seems perfectly affable himself (when he could have just let Zack fall out the window; this hadn't ever been his problem, and yet), and it is, tactically, smarter to not go it alone.
(Clearly that's worked out for everyone so WELL this far. Not.)
He's back up on his feet in the next moment, swallowing down another wave of nausea, but otherwise at least feeling more hopeful than he has in the last few days (maybe not a particularly difficult sentiment to achieve, but he does brighten considerably, and that makes the gnawing in his gut easier to stomach).]
Well, anything worth salvaging is bound to be drier further up, right? [Obvious, and it doesn't need to be a question, but he offers it as one regardless. He's still trying to regain footing now that he's often the one giving orders, not taking them. A restless puppy eager to please? Perhaps, but it's harder to unlearn tricks.]
no subject
he's smiling now, wide and abashed, sheepishly ducking his head as he gestures to the rightmost side of the hall. ]
Yeah, you're right. I figured some places might be less flooded than others, but it makes more sense if we stick to higher ground. Let's work hard and see what we can find.
[ expression gone relatively beguiling, he's quick about amending, at least, carefully pushing the tables gone awry over the hallway, chairs half-upended, their legs splintered and held aloft in the air. while he clears out their path, fastidiously checking for objects (notably, socks) to stuff away into the duffle bag lodged at his side, he talks.
it's just light banter: a way to circumvent the disjointed uneasiness that their current situation won't be a temporary one, after all. ]
Do you have any plans after this? I know some people's apartments flooded, mine included, so it might be a good idea to check just in case. Pretty sure my boss will understand why I took the day off, though. [ cue a wry smile. well, no one ever complimented makoto for his sense of humor in genuine earnest. ] Earlier, you said you knew Rin, right? How'd you meet him?
no subject
[Truthfully, he's flying by the seat of his pants. He helps as he passes, as he's always done, but without orders (or a plan of attack, in any case), he's listless and in no small measure, lost.
He still has his overarching goals, yes. Become a hero. Uphold his honor. Live for those who no longer can. But in the midst of a world that both holds him captive and seems to resent his presence, the concept of "help," or of moral heroism, honor, pride, all of it, seems so much smaller. Personally held ideals, if existent at all.
Aerith had called SOLDIER "protectors of the peace" once, but here, what does that even mean? Whose peace?
Needless to say, it isn't a consideration he's made, what comes after. Just what needs to be done now? And he can only answer with an apologetic shrug, before moving on to the question he can answer. Hopefully it's enough, he thinks, as he follows Makoto's gesture down the hall and answers.]
We showed up at the same time, in ViViD. [It's said with a laugh. It had been horrible, embarrassing, and horrifying at the time, but here, in the midst of this disaster, it's damn near hilarious in retrospect.] Can't say I miss hospitals at all.
no subject
[ in a sense, retaining their ideals could be perceived as crucifying themselves to a dogma that continues to putrefy where they stand. they keep up their compulsions in vicious perpetuity, trying to fill their lives with relics of the past like they can continue to exist in exacting mimicry within a world that isn't even their own, a colony that could very well be on the cusp of technological singularity. some things remain the same: makoto can't let go of his friends in this life or the next. as it turns out, he's always overly reliant on coping mechanisms.
in the end, most days for makoto are afflicted with the paradox of schrödinger's cat: unpredictability dwelling on the quantum level. it's for that reason alone he can't address haru — can't look back any longer, not because he doesn't want to, but because he lacks the earnestness to. he doesn't regret distancing himself, only the rationale behind the gesture.
on some level, makoto can empathize with zack's restlessness. it's that glint of insurgency percolating through his system, the knee-jerk desire to make sense of the incomprehensible, that he can discern even as he turns aside, continues busying himself with rifling through the drawers in one hall and scopes out the next.
by way of answer, makoto smiles in a very slight way, mildness doled out in increments. ]
Oh, I know what you mean. I thought I was going to have a heart attack before I made it out of ViViD that time! I did meet some pretty interesting people there, though ...
[ jostling the duffle bag for good measure, he holds it out for zack's appraisal. ]
How does it look? I wasn't able to find something that wasn't at least a little wet, but I figure these could come in handy if we ever end up trapped in a waiting room.
[ read: makoto's terribad humor rears its ugly head.
at least he managed to snag some unused toiletries, two towels, and a couple of partially water-damaged magazine subscriptions. what a catch. ]
no subject
[If he were being honest, being subject to the scrutiny of Shinra's science department had been less nerve wracking, and the science department was hardly ever known for kindness, discretion, or...ethics, really. (The latter he's been finding increasing to an unsettling degree, but those questions are not meant for here and now. He can focus on what he is and who he works for when he doesn't have someone else to worry about, or a natural disaster to wade through.) A source of "easy" pay or not, ViViD isn't exactly an experience he's looking forward to repeating any time soon.
As if he has a choice in the matter. Cute.He scopes out the rooms Makoto doesn't, turning nothing much up other than a couple blessedly dry matchbooks and a few flyers for services he doesn't recognize (which he pointedly leaves behind).]
Well, with all the waiting we're already doing [he starts, with a laugh], there's not much a difference, right?
[He tosses the matchbooks in and sighs. Fine, so he's usually an excellent finder. It's poor haul all around, almost as if no one around here expected any sort of potential disaster.]
no subject
[ parroted by someone else, it might've signaled derision. however, nothing in makoto's tone minces his words as anything other than an amiable jab.
he likes you, zack. there's less emphasis on force-compelling composure into his complexion where only tension exists, the way it's been around his friends as of late. he can't broach absence with complete equanimity, an act of false pretension that debilitates on makoto, all too used to being endlessly, endlessly honest, whether to his benefit or detriment.
he's spent his whole life filling holes in understanding and broaching misconception that he can't deal with the relativity of making one himself (of being the one misunderstood). ]
Guess we should call it quits for today. Maybe we'll have better luck tomorrow? With any luck, I'm holding out on the floods receding today.
[ he grins, his inflection bright with an optimism he doesn't entirely feel. it's fine like that, though; he's spent more than enough relearning the art of tactical evasion, facing confrontation with a lukewarm consolation. shifting to retract his duffle bag, he holds it out to zack instead. ]
Seems like it might be able to help you more. Mind if I leave it in your care?
[ no telling if he'll take it, either the knapsack or the offer of a place to stay, but there's a necessity in giving him the option. from there, makoto assiduously backtracks to the front of the hotel that hasn't caved in from water damage, standing out at the entrance for a couple of seconds before blindsiding zack with a question. ]
I never got to ask, earlier. Is there anyone out there you're really waiting for? They might not be here with us in the colony, but ... still, they're someone you can't help but think about from time to time?
[ a tentative pause ensues. ]
I think everyone has someone like that, even if they don't realize it at first.