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logsinthenight2020-03-01 07:54 pm
worthallthis) wrote in logsinthenight2020-03-01 07:54 pm
Losing Family [Catch-all Log - Open]
characters: Bucky/Soldat and OPEN
location: Aziraphale and Crowley's house, around Beacon, the church, etc
date/time: First half of March, up to the Wild Heart event
content: Soldat lost some really important people and is reacting poorly
warnings: Excessive sadness, a temper tantrum at one point, varying levels of ability to actually verbalize, and the usual disassociation for a Soldat post
I. Ferry Fears (Open)
It's normal to visit the ferry on the day it arrives. Soldat always helps unload, and this month they have things they badly want, anyway. They frown at the smell wafting off the lake as the ferry drifts up through the melting ice. They know that smell-- they know it very well. Why does the ferry smell like weeks-old dead bodies?
Well, that's a question quickly answered. Leaping on board even before the ferry docks-- thanks, superserum!-- Soldat is faced with... actual weeks-old dead bodies! What a surprise. They crouch to investigate them, because of course they do, looking for signs of cause of death, alert for potential danger still on board. And that facial structure and rotting clothing is... familiar. That curl of blonde hair. That--
"--holy shitting fuck," Soldat whines, scrambling back with a start. That would be the decaying body of one Misty Day, right there. But they saw her just this morning. She's fine. They, uh, dash out a quick text message to her on their tablet (Misty please tell me you are okay) and then pick themselves up. Gingerly. And start looking at more bodies, giving that one a wide berth but keeping it in the corner of their eye anyway. Other bodies reveal themselves to be other friends, including a Crowley and Aziraphale, and, wedged into a corner of one cabin room, their own rotting corpse-- metal arm still shiny and undecayed because the damn thing doesn't even rust.
"What the fuck," they mutter to themselves, before finally, warily getting busy hauling getting supplies off the boat. Maybe a little more quickly than usual. They wanna see people's faces in person, after this.
II. Frantic Searching (Open)
Only there are a few faces missing. Aziraphale is nowhere to be found (again) and Crowley is missing from his bed and Mewtwo is not at the armory. Soldat checks in with the others-- Sora, Misty, Ellever, anyone they actually know and find comfortable to talk with actually-- with one of the questions: "Have you seen Crowley? Tall, copper hair, kind of an asshole?" "Have you seen Aziraphale? Kind of round, white curls, awful bowtie?" "Have you seen a tall blue cat-like person that floats and talks in your head?"
Even after the weekly bulletin with Lucius and Aziraphale confirmed in the obituaries, that doesn't mean they're not coming back. Right? And Aziraphale will be pissed as hell if Soldat managed to lose Crowley hours after his untimely demise. So they keep looking, keep asking around, keep checking the various outlying buildings and holding up their lantern fully unshuttered to the dark woods in search of a glimpse, an echo of a voice, a goddamn scent of Crowley or Mewtwo. (Fully unshuttered means anybody passing by can catch a glimpse of that little green crack, too, for those inclined to be nosy and who might know what that means.)
III. Church Vigils (Open)
When the search falls short after a few days, Soldat's routine changes. Patrols are cut a little short. Visits to handlers are brief, a quick assurance for Misty and dropping off a meal for Javert. Lunches or dinners at the Invincible are made to go. Meals, network scrolling, and weapon maintenance all take place in the church, a pew near the back, while Soldat waits for Aziraphale. And maybe Crowley. And maybe Mewtwo. Maybe even Lucius.
After the first week, it's Crowley and maybe Mewtwo. And a fixed, carefully neutral expression. They go through two notebooks, writing not memories of before they died, but memories of a former handler and technician. Those are precious, too.
IV. Rattling Around the House (Semi-open, close CR only)
Four hours twice a day are set aside for sleep. Mostly, in the empty house, Soldat does not in fact sleep. They pace around. They make little armies of origami animals. They cook mounds of food and plow through it without tasting it, to make up for the nervous energy and the lack of sleeping.
They can be found here during the two four-hour segments of the day they normally sleep, if anyone wants to come by. Only close friends get an answer at the door, though. People Soldat doesn't feel comfortable being nervous and only partially verbal around don't get to come in.
V. Packing Up (Semi-open, close CR only)
After the second week of church vigils, Soldat stops going. Because no one stays dead that long unless they really are dead. After that, patrols and handler visits don't happen at all for about three days. One of those days is spent out in the woods behind the village punching trees and making a big, noisy fuss outside of the immediate earshot of anyone who might worry. One is spent in blank moroseness, locked up in the house, out of energy to make a fuss.
The third day is spent slowly packing up all the personal things that belonged to Crowley, Aziraphale, and themselves. (Including a weird-ass little ghost thing that seems to like being petted on top of the head and occasionally followed them around the house during their pacing. It's kind of cute, and it used to be Crowley's, so apparently Soldat is looking after it now.) Friends can come in this day, too, if they want to help in the packing.
Packing complete, Soldat starts sadly carrying armfuls of things to Misty's cabin or back to the general store.
VI. Back to Normal? (Open)
After that, things even out. Soldat is staying at Misty's house now, though the torch remains in front of Aziraphale and Crowley's house since she has her own. Their routine resumes, exactly as if they never stopped it. Patrols are on time and thorough, meals happen actually at the Invincible, they return to practicing at the gymnasium on days when there's no combat classes, and they actually sleep again.
Still kind of quiet, though, with little casual conversation and no singing under their breath, and there's been no catching various friends with a song and a dance like had maybe seemed like it was becoming a thing now and then. Soldat's going to be a while actually getting back to happy, sorry friends, but they never turn down company.
location: Aziraphale and Crowley's house, around Beacon, the church, etc
date/time: First half of March, up to the Wild Heart event
content: Soldat lost some really important people and is reacting poorly
warnings: Excessive sadness, a temper tantrum at one point, varying levels of ability to actually verbalize, and the usual disassociation for a Soldat post
I. Ferry Fears (Open)
It's normal to visit the ferry on the day it arrives. Soldat always helps unload, and this month they have things they badly want, anyway. They frown at the smell wafting off the lake as the ferry drifts up through the melting ice. They know that smell-- they know it very well. Why does the ferry smell like weeks-old dead bodies?
Well, that's a question quickly answered. Leaping on board even before the ferry docks-- thanks, superserum!-- Soldat is faced with... actual weeks-old dead bodies! What a surprise. They crouch to investigate them, because of course they do, looking for signs of cause of death, alert for potential danger still on board. And that facial structure and rotting clothing is... familiar. That curl of blonde hair. That--
"--holy shitting fuck," Soldat whines, scrambling back with a start. That would be the decaying body of one Misty Day, right there. But they saw her just this morning. She's fine. They, uh, dash out a quick text message to her on their tablet (Misty please tell me you are okay) and then pick themselves up. Gingerly. And start looking at more bodies, giving that one a wide berth but keeping it in the corner of their eye anyway. Other bodies reveal themselves to be other friends, including a Crowley and Aziraphale, and, wedged into a corner of one cabin room, their own rotting corpse-- metal arm still shiny and undecayed because the damn thing doesn't even rust.
"What the fuck," they mutter to themselves, before finally, warily getting busy hauling getting supplies off the boat. Maybe a little more quickly than usual. They wanna see people's faces in person, after this.
II. Frantic Searching (Open)
Only there are a few faces missing. Aziraphale is nowhere to be found (again) and Crowley is missing from his bed and Mewtwo is not at the armory. Soldat checks in with the others-- Sora, Misty, Ellever, anyone they actually know and find comfortable to talk with actually-- with one of the questions: "Have you seen Crowley? Tall, copper hair, kind of an asshole?" "Have you seen Aziraphale? Kind of round, white curls, awful bowtie?" "Have you seen a tall blue cat-like person that floats and talks in your head?"
Even after the weekly bulletin with Lucius and Aziraphale confirmed in the obituaries, that doesn't mean they're not coming back. Right? And Aziraphale will be pissed as hell if Soldat managed to lose Crowley hours after his untimely demise. So they keep looking, keep asking around, keep checking the various outlying buildings and holding up their lantern fully unshuttered to the dark woods in search of a glimpse, an echo of a voice, a goddamn scent of Crowley or Mewtwo. (Fully unshuttered means anybody passing by can catch a glimpse of that little green crack, too, for those inclined to be nosy and who might know what that means.)
III. Church Vigils (Open)
When the search falls short after a few days, Soldat's routine changes. Patrols are cut a little short. Visits to handlers are brief, a quick assurance for Misty and dropping off a meal for Javert. Lunches or dinners at the Invincible are made to go. Meals, network scrolling, and weapon maintenance all take place in the church, a pew near the back, while Soldat waits for Aziraphale. And maybe Crowley. And maybe Mewtwo. Maybe even Lucius.
After the first week, it's Crowley and maybe Mewtwo. And a fixed, carefully neutral expression. They go through two notebooks, writing not memories of before they died, but memories of a former handler and technician. Those are precious, too.
IV. Rattling Around the House (Semi-open, close CR only)
Four hours twice a day are set aside for sleep. Mostly, in the empty house, Soldat does not in fact sleep. They pace around. They make little armies of origami animals. They cook mounds of food and plow through it without tasting it, to make up for the nervous energy and the lack of sleeping.
They can be found here during the two four-hour segments of the day they normally sleep, if anyone wants to come by. Only close friends get an answer at the door, though. People Soldat doesn't feel comfortable being nervous and only partially verbal around don't get to come in.
V. Packing Up (Semi-open, close CR only)
After the second week of church vigils, Soldat stops going. Because no one stays dead that long unless they really are dead. After that, patrols and handler visits don't happen at all for about three days. One of those days is spent out in the woods behind the village punching trees and making a big, noisy fuss outside of the immediate earshot of anyone who might worry. One is spent in blank moroseness, locked up in the house, out of energy to make a fuss.
The third day is spent slowly packing up all the personal things that belonged to Crowley, Aziraphale, and themselves. (Including a weird-ass little ghost thing that seems to like being petted on top of the head and occasionally followed them around the house during their pacing. It's kind of cute, and it used to be Crowley's, so apparently Soldat is looking after it now.) Friends can come in this day, too, if they want to help in the packing.
Packing complete, Soldat starts sadly carrying armfuls of things to Misty's cabin or back to the general store.
VI. Back to Normal? (Open)
After that, things even out. Soldat is staying at Misty's house now, though the torch remains in front of Aziraphale and Crowley's house since she has her own. Their routine resumes, exactly as if they never stopped it. Patrols are on time and thorough, meals happen actually at the Invincible, they return to practicing at the gymnasium on days when there's no combat classes, and they actually sleep again.
Still kind of quiet, though, with little casual conversation and no singing under their breath, and there's been no catching various friends with a song and a dance like had maybe seemed like it was becoming a thing now and then. Soldat's going to be a while actually getting back to happy, sorry friends, but they never turn down company.
no subject
"Yeah but... well, I wanted to find things you liked since I know you aren't feeling well. And I don't... I don't want you to be alone." Being alone was awful.
no subject
It's very sweet of her, not wanting them to be alone, but Jesus, kiddo, don't punish yourself with bad food just cuz you don't know how to make it properly yet. You're doing that in front of the biggest protective mother hen in the village, and you think you're gonna get away with it?
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She chewed, swallowed and then spoke. "Is food hard to get here? I thought it might be. So I didn't want to waste any of it." She still wasn't sure how things would grow in a green house without sunlight.
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God, it's like. It's like talking to a little sister. They have just enough memories and edges of memories to recognize the feeling. Except that's not quite right, either, because she's fucked around in their brain, and that puts her in a position of authority. Ugh. Relationships are such a mess.
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Naminé grew quiet for a few moments and when she spoke again, her voice was softer and her words were carefully chosen. "I wanted to ask if you were alright but, I know that you aren't. You're here and I think you're waiting for something. I won't ask what but, I don't think you should be alone."
Whatever he did, Naminé wanted him to know that he could always have company. Even if that meant silently drawing while Soldier did whatever he usually did.
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They hesitate a beat, then carefully reach over and rest their hand a second on the top of her head. Not long, just enough to be felt and registered. "It's good to have company, though. Thank you."
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"Oh. You're welcome Solider."
She looked up at him with a soft smile. "I was alone for a long time. I don't want anyone else to feel like that. So if you need someone. Please call me. Or you can come sleep over. I was told about pillow forts and that it's something you do at sleep overs."
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And then the distraction of trying to figure out what a pillow fort is, and being hit over the head with the memory of taking cushions off the couch in the old apartment, and making things out of them with Steve. They blink a few times. "Put the couch cushions on the floor. Like when we were kids. I've done-- I remember doing that." They're not going to sleep over at Naminé's hotel room, that feels like ten different kinds of inappropriate, but pillow forts apparently have been a thing.
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"Did you like building them? I bet you're better at it than I am."
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Naminé paused and placed her palm on her sketchbook. It was always with her nowadays. With so many strange things in Beacon, she never knew when she'd run across something she'd want to draw.
"I wasn't able to be a kid. I was born from another's heart and even this body is very new. I know it probably sounds silly but if I can do those things now, I'd like." She looked up at Solider and smiled. "I want to experience as much as I can."
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She's mentioned the whole... body is new thing before, but they hadn't had a chance to ask about it. "How did that happen? You not growing up. Coming from somebody else's heart."
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She kept a palm resting gently on her sketchbook as if it brought comfort to her.
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Naminé spoke carefully, choosing each word after a brief pause. She hadn't really explained this to anyone before and it was difficult to know what details to tell him. The story was jumbled and she didn't want to make it more confusing than it already was. "I woke up alone and without any memories. I knew I was a Nobody but that was it and I had this power. Because Kairi was a princess of heart and her heart was pure. You see, Nobody's can't feel because they don't have hearts but I could."
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"He's told me about Kairi." They frown thoughtfully at their closed notebook. "Why do Nobodies come about? What happened to... uh, to make you?" And why did she not have memories when Nobodies supposedly do? Hrm.
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She still struggled, unsure if she deserved to live the way that others do.
"I have never truly lived... except here. Maybe that's why I can never see this world as death. It's given me life and while things are sad, I am grateful for these memories. Memories... they never die."
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They hesitate, then reach over to rest their flesh hand a moment on the top of her head, and pet slowly twice before pulling back. They're working on this touch thing. "I'm like you, that way. This place is better than where I came from, when I was alive. Even including the weird horror shit that comes up." Like lanterns, hallucinations, and green-eyes.
no subject
The Riku in Beacon was different from the boy she knew.
The touch was a surprise but it brought a smile to her lips as she looked up and met Soldat's gaze. "Thank you. It's okay right? That we live here? Even if it's a dark place?"
whoops sorry I misplaced this one
Besides, the actual question is probably more important. They nod. "It's okay. It's not dark as in bad, it's just dark because there's no light. The kind of place it is depends on us, yeah? What we make it into."