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tampered2007-03-13 07:33 pm
manifestwill.livejournal.com) wrote in tampered2007-03-13 07:33 pm
Log; Complete
When: March 13th. Morning.
Rating: PG.
Characters: chaos [![[profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
manifestwill ] & Jr./Rubedo [red_dragon_666 ]
Summary: Waking on a beach without a clue as to how one got there might be a little disconcerting when one doesn't exactly remember much more than names. However, with the self-assurance that all would return in time, a mysterious (if drenched) silver-haired youth arrives at the Durandal's 'doorstep'.
Log:
Rating: PG.
Characters: chaos [
manifestwill ] & Jr./Rubedo [red_dragon_666 ] Summary: Waking on a beach without a clue as to how one got there might be a little disconcerting when one doesn't exactly remember much more than names. However, with the self-assurance that all would return in time, a mysterious (if drenched) silver-haired youth arrives at the Durandal's 'doorstep'.
Log:
chaos:
It was like...
He drifted, unaware, consciousness a slow thing in coming to realize present circumstances. Only the present mattered, eyes shut and thoughts gradually pulled from the rubble of--was it sleep? Caught up, in the cold embrace of the sea, there was a sort of 'silence' there; an oceanic heartbeat. In it, he became aware. Eyes opened, stung by salt and the dazzle of sunlight breaking on the surface above.
...being born again--
He needed to breathe. It was an unthinking, animal instinct.
--Hardly peaceful.
Born again indeed; with all its urgency, all its gasping indignity, the one-mindedness of survival. Nothing quite worked right, sunlight too bright, too harsh, gloved fingers grasping only churning water until one foot struck sand.
Surf then washed over hands and knees where he knelt there, coughing, pale-silver hair shedding saltwater like rain. Thought -- conscious thought -- did not so much trickle in as came in a crushing wave. He was alive and for some reason this was unexpected. But why? He remembered drifting insensate through blackness (bidding her good night), on a long journey to...
To The Source. There was another word there, but the moment he tried to grasp the idea... it slipped away.
He crouched there for an indeterminate amount of time; his hair had stopped dripping by the time he managed to climb to his feet, clothes sodden and himself possessed of a calm sort of wonder. Serene, even as translucent eyes were carried onward along the stretch of visible crimson metal hovering -- perhaps impossibly -- above. A gloved hand stretched out towards it, slow as a dream, as if he meant to verify its reality by touch.
It was too far to reach here.
That's called the Durandal.
Defining the impossibly large craft before him was an exercise in surreality. It didn't belong here, the word and the location fit strangely in his mind, clashed dissonance. He felt the urge to laugh, and didn't yet know why.
I am-- the thought came tasting like inevitability.
Yeshua.
"chaos--"
It wasn't everything, but it was a start. All the rest would come in time, rose a thought too collected, unruffled for someone who just woke up on a beach without knowing where they came from, how they came to be there. He meanders the beach, meaning to find where the huge ship meets the sand.
Jr.:
It really was pretty handy to have a bunch of people on board the ship again. The Durandal had felt hollow without his crew. Now the numbers still were tiny in comparison to what the ship had been used to, but it was still much more full of life than before this whole ordeal with Sandalphon had taken place.
But that was hardly anything to be grateful for. The girls still weren't cured, and Rubedo was starting to feel like a damned warden. At least he didn't have to escort them when they needed to shower or use the bathroom. That one was all Mary's.
Holly had finished curing him, finally, so where the rather large hole had been days before, a small scar now remained on his chest, with one to match between his shoulder blades. Now he didn't have to feel pain when breathing or moving, but sleep was still hard to come by as of late. So much to do, and so little time to do it. Alexiel hadn't given him enough...time...
What was that?
"...chaos? ...chaos!" Immediately, Rubedo jumped up from where he'd been sitting on the bridge, parked at one of the Realian's terminals. Aside from Mary, nobody else went there, so it was the best place to do his planning. He just wanted to sleep when in his private quarters.
And fortunately, there was an emergency escape from the bridge that would make this all too easy. Of course, in his hurry, he completely forgot to turn off the security alarm.
As soon as the door slid open, the blaring siren went off, joined by a myriad of red moniters popping up everywhere. "Aw, son of a--shut up!" After quickly inputting the key code to shut it off, he glanced over his shoulder nervously, as if expecting Mary to be there giving him a dirty look. He really hoped nobody had been asleep or something.
But with the door open, he could scan the sand, able to see his friend in the distance. Cupping his hands over his mouth, he yelled out yet again, "Hey chaos! What the hell are you doing here?!"
chaos:
It would've been difficult to make out details at this sort of distance--but Jr., like all URTVs, is hardly what anyone would call mundane, right?
Recognition is etched in posture, in the way his stride skips a beat to pause.
It's not the name, it's the voice, setting ancient relics of memories of an old life back out of storage. In that way, one could say it's as easily ignored as a particularly enthusiastic individual armed with a hammer and a particularly large bell to ring. It goes without saying that curiosity is enough to carry his stride onwards, towards the craft.
His attire is a little different than Jr. might remember, but given his inclination to wearing dark blues and bright yellows, gloves no matter the weather or conditions, and occasionally white--it's not hard to identify. How many people does the red-haired youth know has silver-white hair and dusky skin, anyway?
It might have been a situation that called for a hurried pace. Chances were good that it was just like chaos to take longer than Jr. would prefer to approach, but approach he does.
...Eventually.
( What the hell are you doing here?! )
"..." Memories are easy. It's reminding himself how to answer (in a language mutually understood) that comes off as tricky; chaos' gaze is drawn skyward a moment in distraction. One arm folds across his middle to cup one elbow, the other gloved hand drifts over his mouth, brows furrowed thoughtfully.
It comes, finally.
Someone was--
"I don't really know."
--something was calling.
Jr.:
Ugh, why was he taking so long?! Even chaos didn't move that slow. ...Well, all right, he did, but he wasn't supposed to in a situation like this! After all, Rubedo hadn't seen him in months.
Of course, he couldn't assume that the same was for chaos. The red head knew very well just how this place warped time and space. After all, how else could his ship be here without it's crew? He really didn't want to think about the other possibility that line of thinking would bring about.
"What?! I can't hear you! Hold on!" Damnit. This had to be one of the worst emergency exits ever. Why was the transporter jamming?! "...Stand back!"
Once he had crouched down and gripped the edge, dangling brought him just that much close to the ground. Still...it smarted when he landed, mostly because he hadn't expected to actually hit water. The tide was a bit higher than normal, meaning his boots hit very wet sand and slippery rocks, resulting in a pseudo K.O.
Groaning after having slipped right onto his rear end, he leaned over and looked up at chaos. "...If anybody asks, you pushed me."
chaos:
Wincing visibly, chaos seems genuinely sympathetic to the URTV's plight. That looked painful.
It feels like the most natural thing to do, to offer the boy a hand up. "...Would anyone believe me?" is more an honest question than an attempt at his own brand of mild-mannered humor, though the distinction is extremely subtle. More is coming back, just as he thought it would; chaos makes no attempt to rush the return of memory, the return of knowing's one place.
He'd done this before. Not this specifically, but this fumbling for understanding exactly where he is in the timeline, where he is in respect of others.
Why? Why does it feel familiar? That answer comes in an echo of Eternal Recurrance and for one single, dreadful moment chaos wonders if he (they) failed in something after all. But that, too, will have to wait until the rest returns.
It's coming, and that assurance is enough.
There's a strange look, then; recognition again, more direct, and one could dare say it's more pronounced, practically a startle. "Jr.! You're Jr.! Was there a crash?" ...The Durandal looks fine.
He doesn't remember a crash, but many surprises have happened before. If there had been one, one could easily wonder how in hell chaos would survive landing in the ocean in such a situation, but he's also been suspiciously lucky in his (albeit long) life.
Jr.:
chaos had a point there. Who would honestly believe that the light haired teenager had shoved him into the water? Perhaps, maybe, in order to save him from certain death, but then that would involve coming up with a wildly exaggerated story of heroics and bravery, and he'd certainly had enough of that lately.
He tried to shake the water off of his hand before reaching it up to clap it against chaos', gripping and standing carefully. Oh. Pain. Rubedo thought, perhaps, it would be good to stay out on the beach for a little bit while he recovered. If anyone saw him limping, not to mention wet, he was going to get an earful.
Then, his comrade just had to go and act even stranger than normal...and that really was saying a lot. "What do you mean? Of course I'm Jr.! This place has really done a number on you, huh...? Man, have I got some explaining to do."
Stepping out of the shallow water and onto the dry sand, he tried to brush himself off...which was an utter failure, considering it was muddy water. "Kind of. Mary actually crashed this baby right into the sand in a nose dive. It took all of our E.S.s to get her right side up again. Even Albedo had to help. Have you...spoken to anyone, yet? Or am I the first? You really don't know where we're at, do you? Are any of the others with you?"
chaos:
If he's only just now properly recognizing the URTV, one could suggest it says something about a guy willing to help up a complete stranger. Fortunately, it's not against the law in this world to be nice. Or chaos would be in a lot of trouble.
It's 'What do you mean?' and 'Of course I'm Jr.!' and by this time chaos is already wearing that same self-effacing smile he'd remember, a gloved finger making a motion as if to scratch one cheek in a show of slightly sheepish embarassment. The rest is weathered with a calmer gaze, albeit with a touch of polite bewilderment.
He's trying to keep up. It's getting easier.
"I..." Goodness, this was going to be difficult to explain. chaos chooses, perhaps unsurprisingly, to be vague. He turns towards the water, pointing along the beach. "Climbed out of the water over there, but..." He scrubs at the back of his head with a hand, "That's funny--I don't remember going swimming."
That may or may not have been a joke. "You're the first person I've seen since."
E.S.--
...E.S.? chaos turns around, suddenly. Powered by Vessels of Anima. Vessels that had only existed because--back then, at that time, she had made the fateful decision to act, and so began his role as a spectator in the events of the world. "Really? They're here?"
His gaze drops to his open hands. He still... Straightening, chaos smiles. Long experience prevents it from feeling forced. "I guess it can't be helped." Spreading his hands in a helpless gesture, he laughs softly. "It's pretty lucky I ran into you first off, if this requires a lengthy explanation. But--"
He lifts brows in concern. "Aren't you going to catch a cold?" ...So says the one who climbed out of the ocean not too long ago. But really--since when has he come down with a cold?
Jr.:
The responses out of chaos merely got a raised eyebrow, folded arms, and a cocked hip. Without words he was screaming You gotta be kidding me.
"Asher's here. So's Zebulun and Simeon. And no kidding, you came from the water. You look like a drowned rat. We'll just say I got wet helping you out or something. Cool?" Both arms dropped back down and he turned to start walking down the beach, assuming chaos would follow of course.
"MOMO and Mary will be happy to see you! There are also some others staying aboard... Let's just say things have been really crazy lately, and, uh... I kind of had to organize a tiiiny little rescue mission. So the people who helped are staying with us until it's all figured out. I bet one of the guys has clothes you can borrow until we can buy you some new ones. Lazlo seems about your size."
His pace slowed a bit then, and azure eyes drifted away, as if that would negate the importance of what he was about to say. "...Sakura's also onboard."
chaos:
Simeon. Simeon, too? --That's right... Albedo. The white horseman, Rubedo's other half. Another series of associations that at last brings home another surprise. It might be either entirely expected or a little strange -- depending on Jr.'s perspective -- that chaos, other than another moment of recognition, fails entirely to react with the shock, awe, or horror that others of their group might have with regards to Albedo.
Then again, chaos always was the sort who could weather even a hurricane with calm grace. He is nothing if not entirely dependable when it comes to failing to contribute to the drama that undoubtedly surrounds the relationship between Rubedo and his unhinged brother.
As Jr. continues, chaos regards his own state, plucking at clothes with a kind of half-hearted fussiness. Survey says: Yes, chaos, you're soaked.
Are you offering an alibi? How considerate! chaos can't help but laugh, "Okay." However, it's entirely possible he'll simply smile disarmingly at any questioning looks and let Jr. do the talking--he learned a long time ago the effectiveness of a good smile in the absense of words.
Naturally, he follows.
He gives another of those strange double-takes. chaos might have merely been stunned to find out MOMO and Mary are present, except then he asks, "Mary Godwin?" as if he needed to verify the Mary spoken of. The moment is brushed aside with a joking chide. "When isn't it crazy? Honestly," chaos adds, feigning a long-suffering sigh, looking away, "I'm beginning to think the Kukais have a legacy of troublemaking."
--Sakura. chaos sobers instantly.
"...I see." She lives? His eyes lid with a slow nod. Shouldn't he be appropriately shocked? "Well," chaos says, with maddening serenity, "'Everything follows the flow', right?"
He drifted, unaware, consciousness a slow thing in coming to realize present circumstances. Only the present mattered, eyes shut and thoughts gradually pulled from the rubble of--was it sleep? Caught up, in the cold embrace of the sea, there was a sort of 'silence' there; an oceanic heartbeat. In it, he became aware. Eyes opened, stung by salt and the dazzle of sunlight breaking on the surface above.
He needed to breathe. It was an unthinking, animal instinct.
Born again indeed; with all its urgency, all its gasping indignity, the one-mindedness of survival. Nothing quite worked right, sunlight too bright, too harsh, gloved fingers grasping only churning water until one foot struck sand.
Surf then washed over hands and knees where he knelt there, coughing, pale-silver hair shedding saltwater like rain. Thought -- conscious thought -- did not so much trickle in as came in a crushing wave. He was alive and for some reason this was unexpected. But why? He remembered drifting insensate through blackness (bidding her good night), on a long journey to...
To The Source. There was another word there, but the moment he tried to grasp the idea... it slipped away.
He crouched there for an indeterminate amount of time; his hair had stopped dripping by the time he managed to climb to his feet, clothes sodden and himself possessed of a calm sort of wonder. Serene, even as translucent eyes were carried onward along the stretch of visible crimson metal hovering -- perhaps impossibly -- above. A gloved hand stretched out towards it, slow as a dream, as if he meant to verify its reality by touch.
It was too far to reach here.
That's called the Durandal.
Defining the impossibly large craft before him was an exercise in surreality. It didn't belong here, the word and the location fit strangely in his mind, clashed dissonance. He felt the urge to laugh, and didn't yet know why.
I am-- the thought came tasting like inevitability.
Yeshua.
"chaos--"
It wasn't everything, but it was a start. All the rest would come in time, rose a thought too collected, unruffled for someone who just woke up on a beach without knowing where they came from, how they came to be there. He meanders the beach, meaning to find where the huge ship meets the sand.
Jr.:
It really was pretty handy to have a bunch of people on board the ship again. The Durandal had felt hollow without his crew. Now the numbers still were tiny in comparison to what the ship had been used to, but it was still much more full of life than before this whole ordeal with Sandalphon had taken place.
But that was hardly anything to be grateful for. The girls still weren't cured, and Rubedo was starting to feel like a damned warden. At least he didn't have to escort them when they needed to shower or use the bathroom. That one was all Mary's.
Holly had finished curing him, finally, so where the rather large hole had been days before, a small scar now remained on his chest, with one to match between his shoulder blades. Now he didn't have to feel pain when breathing or moving, but sleep was still hard to come by as of late. So much to do, and so little time to do it. Alexiel hadn't given him enough...time...
What was that?
"...chaos? ...chaos!" Immediately, Rubedo jumped up from where he'd been sitting on the bridge, parked at one of the Realian's terminals. Aside from Mary, nobody else went there, so it was the best place to do his planning. He just wanted to sleep when in his private quarters.
And fortunately, there was an emergency escape from the bridge that would make this all too easy. Of course, in his hurry, he completely forgot to turn off the security alarm.
As soon as the door slid open, the blaring siren went off, joined by a myriad of red moniters popping up everywhere. "Aw, son of a--shut up!" After quickly inputting the key code to shut it off, he glanced over his shoulder nervously, as if expecting Mary to be there giving him a dirty look. He really hoped nobody had been asleep or something.
But with the door open, he could scan the sand, able to see his friend in the distance. Cupping his hands over his mouth, he yelled out yet again, "Hey chaos! What the hell are you doing here?!"
chaos:
It would've been difficult to make out details at this sort of distance--but Jr., like all URTVs, is hardly what anyone would call mundane, right?
Recognition is etched in posture, in the way his stride skips a beat to pause.
It's not the name, it's the voice, setting ancient relics of memories of an old life back out of storage. In that way, one could say it's as easily ignored as a particularly enthusiastic individual armed with a hammer and a particularly large bell to ring. It goes without saying that curiosity is enough to carry his stride onwards, towards the craft.
His attire is a little different than Jr. might remember, but given his inclination to wearing dark blues and bright yellows, gloves no matter the weather or conditions, and occasionally white--it's not hard to identify. How many people does the red-haired youth know has silver-white hair and dusky skin, anyway?
It might have been a situation that called for a hurried pace. Chances were good that it was just like chaos to take longer than Jr. would prefer to approach, but approach he does.
...Eventually.
( What the hell are you doing here?! )
"..." Memories are easy. It's reminding himself how to answer (in a language mutually understood) that comes off as tricky; chaos' gaze is drawn skyward a moment in distraction. One arm folds across his middle to cup one elbow, the other gloved hand drifts over his mouth, brows furrowed thoughtfully.
It comes, finally.
Someone was--
"I don't really know."
--something was calling.
Jr.:
Ugh, why was he taking so long?! Even chaos didn't move that slow. ...Well, all right, he did, but he wasn't supposed to in a situation like this! After all, Rubedo hadn't seen him in months.
Of course, he couldn't assume that the same was for chaos. The red head knew very well just how this place warped time and space. After all, how else could his ship be here without it's crew? He really didn't want to think about the other possibility that line of thinking would bring about.
"What?! I can't hear you! Hold on!" Damnit. This had to be one of the worst emergency exits ever. Why was the transporter jamming?! "...Stand back!"
Once he had crouched down and gripped the edge, dangling brought him just that much close to the ground. Still...it smarted when he landed, mostly because he hadn't expected to actually hit water. The tide was a bit higher than normal, meaning his boots hit very wet sand and slippery rocks, resulting in a pseudo K.O.
Groaning after having slipped right onto his rear end, he leaned over and looked up at chaos. "...If anybody asks, you pushed me."
chaos:
Wincing visibly, chaos seems genuinely sympathetic to the URTV's plight. That looked painful.
It feels like the most natural thing to do, to offer the boy a hand up. "...Would anyone believe me?" is more an honest question than an attempt at his own brand of mild-mannered humor, though the distinction is extremely subtle. More is coming back, just as he thought it would; chaos makes no attempt to rush the return of memory, the return of knowing's one place.
He'd done this before. Not this specifically, but this fumbling for understanding exactly where he is in the timeline, where he is in respect of others.
Why? Why does it feel familiar? That answer comes in an echo of Eternal Recurrance and for one single, dreadful moment chaos wonders if he (they) failed in something after all. But that, too, will have to wait until the rest returns.
It's coming, and that assurance is enough.
There's a strange look, then; recognition again, more direct, and one could dare say it's more pronounced, practically a startle. "Jr.! You're Jr.! Was there a crash?" ...The Durandal looks fine.
He doesn't remember a crash, but many surprises have happened before. If there had been one, one could easily wonder how in hell chaos would survive landing in the ocean in such a situation, but he's also been suspiciously lucky in his (albeit long) life.
Jr.:
chaos had a point there. Who would honestly believe that the light haired teenager had shoved him into the water? Perhaps, maybe, in order to save him from certain death, but then that would involve coming up with a wildly exaggerated story of heroics and bravery, and he'd certainly had enough of that lately.
He tried to shake the water off of his hand before reaching it up to clap it against chaos', gripping and standing carefully. Oh. Pain. Rubedo thought, perhaps, it would be good to stay out on the beach for a little bit while he recovered. If anyone saw him limping, not to mention wet, he was going to get an earful.
Then, his comrade just had to go and act even stranger than normal...and that really was saying a lot. "What do you mean? Of course I'm Jr.! This place has really done a number on you, huh...? Man, have I got some explaining to do."
Stepping out of the shallow water and onto the dry sand, he tried to brush himself off...which was an utter failure, considering it was muddy water. "Kind of. Mary actually crashed this baby right into the sand in a nose dive. It took all of our E.S.s to get her right side up again. Even Albedo had to help. Have you...spoken to anyone, yet? Or am I the first? You really don't know where we're at, do you? Are any of the others with you?"
chaos:
If he's only just now properly recognizing the URTV, one could suggest it says something about a guy willing to help up a complete stranger. Fortunately, it's not against the law in this world to be nice. Or chaos would be in a lot of trouble.
It's 'What do you mean?' and 'Of course I'm Jr.!' and by this time chaos is already wearing that same self-effacing smile he'd remember, a gloved finger making a motion as if to scratch one cheek in a show of slightly sheepish embarassment. The rest is weathered with a calmer gaze, albeit with a touch of polite bewilderment.
He's trying to keep up. It's getting easier.
"I..." Goodness, this was going to be difficult to explain. chaos chooses, perhaps unsurprisingly, to be vague. He turns towards the water, pointing along the beach. "Climbed out of the water over there, but..." He scrubs at the back of his head with a hand, "That's funny--I don't remember going swimming."
That may or may not have been a joke. "You're the first person I've seen since."
E.S.--
...E.S.? chaos turns around, suddenly. Powered by Vessels of Anima. Vessels that had only existed because--back then, at that time, she had made the fateful decision to act, and so began his role as a spectator in the events of the world. "Really? They're here?"
His gaze drops to his open hands. He still... Straightening, chaos smiles. Long experience prevents it from feeling forced. "I guess it can't be helped." Spreading his hands in a helpless gesture, he laughs softly. "It's pretty lucky I ran into you first off, if this requires a lengthy explanation. But--"
He lifts brows in concern. "Aren't you going to catch a cold?" ...So says the one who climbed out of the ocean not too long ago. But really--since when has he come down with a cold?
Jr.:
The responses out of chaos merely got a raised eyebrow, folded arms, and a cocked hip. Without words he was screaming You gotta be kidding me.
"Asher's here. So's Zebulun and Simeon. And no kidding, you came from the water. You look like a drowned rat. We'll just say I got wet helping you out or something. Cool?" Both arms dropped back down and he turned to start walking down the beach, assuming chaos would follow of course.
"MOMO and Mary will be happy to see you! There are also some others staying aboard... Let's just say things have been really crazy lately, and, uh... I kind of had to organize a tiiiny little rescue mission. So the people who helped are staying with us until it's all figured out. I bet one of the guys has clothes you can borrow until we can buy you some new ones. Lazlo seems about your size."
His pace slowed a bit then, and azure eyes drifted away, as if that would negate the importance of what he was about to say. "...Sakura's also onboard."
chaos:
Simeon. Simeon, too? --That's right... Albedo. The white horseman, Rubedo's other half. Another series of associations that at last brings home another surprise. It might be either entirely expected or a little strange -- depending on Jr.'s perspective -- that chaos, other than another moment of recognition, fails entirely to react with the shock, awe, or horror that others of their group might have with regards to Albedo.
Then again, chaos always was the sort who could weather even a hurricane with calm grace. He is nothing if not entirely dependable when it comes to failing to contribute to the drama that undoubtedly surrounds the relationship between Rubedo and his unhinged brother.
As Jr. continues, chaos regards his own state, plucking at clothes with a kind of half-hearted fussiness. Survey says: Yes, chaos, you're soaked.
Are you offering an alibi? How considerate! chaos can't help but laugh, "Okay." However, it's entirely possible he'll simply smile disarmingly at any questioning looks and let Jr. do the talking--he learned a long time ago the effectiveness of a good smile in the absense of words.
Naturally, he follows.
He gives another of those strange double-takes. chaos might have merely been stunned to find out MOMO and Mary are present, except then he asks, "Mary Godwin?" as if he needed to verify the Mary spoken of. The moment is brushed aside with a joking chide. "When isn't it crazy? Honestly," chaos adds, feigning a long-suffering sigh, looking away, "I'm beginning to think the Kukais have a legacy of troublemaking."
--Sakura. chaos sobers instantly.
"...I see." She lives? His eyes lid with a slow nod. Shouldn't he be appropriately shocked? "Well," chaos says, with maddening serenity, "'Everything follows the flow', right?"