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damned_institute2009-09-20 11:43 am
thatdamnedninja.livejournal.com) wrote in damned_institute2009-09-20 11:43 am
Entry tags:
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Day 44: breakfast
Yuffie had died.
No, really. Seriously. She had actually died. Bleeding all over the place, making a horrid, sticky mess and scaring the hell out of Suzaku; she remembered it clearly. Kind of. Sort of. Through the blood loss, the pain, and the visions. Through Aerith's voice whispering in her ear, Cloud's stricken eyes, and her own panic. As bad nights went, it had been Bad, capital B and all the trimmings, and oh, god. She sat, trembling on the edge of her bed, eyes closed and hands pressed hard over her racing heart. The by-play between Landel—Landel!—and Lydia barely even sunk in. There was nothing in the whole world, any world, that could prepare you for something like…
Had it all been some kind of hallucination?
Had she imagined the whole thing?
No… She didn't think so. Nightmarish or not, Yuffie knew reality. But if it had been real, how was she alive now? That kind of pain wasn't something you could just cook up, was it? She thought about it all the way to the cafeteria, drifting behind her nurse without focus or intent. Maybe if she tried to stay clinical, tried to step back… But she'd never been good at that when things got personal. And every time she closed her eyes or blinked, she swore that the scenes played back to her, like an overused commercial on a crappy channel on a crappy TV, in a run-down dump of an inn that smelled like mothballs and yesterday's breakfast.
The scent of blood and damp, rotted wood clogged her nose. Disgusted, Yuffie shoved her bowl of cereal—handed to her by a clucking Plucky—off to the side so that she could melt into her chair, palm heels scrubbing against her eyes. Too much. This was… Too much. She couldn't even paste a plastic smile on her face to make herself feel better. Her usual shield, the white noise of inane babble that could filter out almost any crisis, was in tatters all around her. Five minutes, she gave herself.
Five minutes (not) to think, five minutes to get her act together, because there was no way she could let herself shatter here. No way…
[Closed to Sheena]
No, really. Seriously. She had actually died. Bleeding all over the place, making a horrid, sticky mess and scaring the hell out of Suzaku; she remembered it clearly. Kind of. Sort of. Through the blood loss, the pain, and the visions. Through Aerith's voice whispering in her ear, Cloud's stricken eyes, and her own panic. As bad nights went, it had been Bad, capital B and all the trimmings, and oh, god. She sat, trembling on the edge of her bed, eyes closed and hands pressed hard over her racing heart. The by-play between Landel—Landel!—and Lydia barely even sunk in. There was nothing in the whole world, any world, that could prepare you for something like…
Had it all been some kind of hallucination?
Had she imagined the whole thing?
No… She didn't think so. Nightmarish or not, Yuffie knew reality. But if it had been real, how was she alive now? That kind of pain wasn't something you could just cook up, was it? She thought about it all the way to the cafeteria, drifting behind her nurse without focus or intent. Maybe if she tried to stay clinical, tried to step back… But she'd never been good at that when things got personal. And every time she closed her eyes or blinked, she swore that the scenes played back to her, like an overused commercial on a crappy channel on a crappy TV, in a run-down dump of an inn that smelled like mothballs and yesterday's breakfast.
The scent of blood and damp, rotted wood clogged her nose. Disgusted, Yuffie shoved her bowl of cereal—handed to her by a clucking Plucky—off to the side so that she could melt into her chair, palm heels scrubbing against her eyes. Too much. This was… Too much. She couldn't even paste a plastic smile on her face to make herself feel better. Her usual shield, the white noise of inane babble that could filter out almost any crisis, was in tatters all around her. Five minutes, she gave herself.
Five minutes (not) to think, five minutes to get her act together, because there was no way she could let herself shatter here. No way…
[Closed to Sheena]
no subject
Teresa made the conditions regarding this Ophelia clear, and Homura accepted that easily enough, along with the comment on the glyph. None of it was unlike the truce and conditions held between the Shinsengumi and Choushuu who worked with him, after all. As for fully awakening, to Homura, it almost sounded like Son Goku after his limiter was removed. A power no doubt restrained by this place, but he didn't say that out loud. Teresa spoke of the woman as one spoke of a duty, and trying to put her off guard would be pointless.
Homura frowned slightly at Teresa's first question, regarding the Chapel. He recognized the nagging sense by now, though it hadn't come so frequently as of late. The idea that there was something he should know, that he had known about the topic, but that he couldn't remember. "There is something important about that place." That much Homura was certain of, but as for the rest, he could only shake his head. "But I don't know what. Ask on the bulletin. Someone will know, no doubt."
The second question he could answer, but that made it no less easy to do so. That encounter he recalled perfectly, down to the slightest detail. "There is a fairly complete list of monsters kept on the bulletin. But I have encountered one in particular." For the first time, Homura looked away from Teresa, his eyes growing distant and regretful. "A creature here has the ability to take on the shape of someone--important. The disguise is perfect: everything, from appearance to voice to mannerisms is exactly how it should be. Until the thing tries to attack."
Until it had gone after Kenren, thanks to Homura's foolishness.
"Physically, it's weak, with little defense. A simple enough thing to kill." After Kenren's blood had exposed the illusion. "But it is something to be wary of."
no subject
The creature Homura described was not the one she and Rolo had encountered the night before, but it was far more troublesome than the apparition and it's cries. This one could conceivably get within her defenses if it used its abilities in the right manner. Killing it would be done without hesitation, but she Teresa did not relish the thought of possibly having to kill something that looked and sounded like Clare. Irene would be an easier image to kill, but it was still undesirable. Though if it took on Irene's appearance...
"I see. That creature - is it capable of fooling refined senses? Can it reproduce unique energy signatures?"