Jade Curtiss (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
fonomena) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
come_sailaway2024-01-14 01:05 pm
fonomena) wrote in come_sailaway2024-01-14 01:05 pm
iron bridges, melodic chimes; things i made for you back then
Who: Jade Curtiss & you
What: You ever wake up from a nap so long and ill-advised that now it's four months later and everything's been on fire and the apocalypse apparently may or may not be incoming--
When: Latter half of January, we're wobbling timelines as much as we like for this one folks
Where: Cabin 133 --> Cabin 109, various locales of the ship afterwards
Warnings: Potential high volume of gross feelings and unexpected hugs from unexpected places, also mad teenaged punching probably, but otherwise uuh probably nothing terrible??
(closed to steve & natsuno); folding chairs and building blocks
[For the first thirty seconds or so, Jade doesn't notice anything amiss. This is on account of not actually opening his eyes, and not actually thinking about anything, for the duration of those thirty seconds. It's quite nice.
The perpetual rock of the ship still sways, as it always has. All is quiet, as this hour of morning always is. This has been...a rather deep and dreamless sleep, which does happen for him on occasion, though it's a rarity. The couch-bed is oddly quite comfortable for once, as well. All told, this might just be the best night's rest he's had in possibly years--
And then he opens his eyes, and turns his head, and the serenity promptly evaporates.
(Gets up from an--actual bed, which is ostensibly Natsuno's bed. The rest of the room--all articles of furniture technically where they should be, yet there's a clean and distinct emptiness, more akin to inn quarters freshly turned over by housekeeping than a place two people have lived in for well over a year. Nothing in desk drawers, or the wardrobe. And all that before stepping out the cabin door, and into...a portion of the residential hall that's far further along than it ought to be. "133", reads the placard on the wall...?)
It's more an automatic impulse than practical sense that leads Jade's highly disoriented self down the hall to cabin 109. Are there...singe marks, on some of the walls? A scattering of debris even here, that he's rather certain hadn't been here yesterday? Later, worry about it later, whatever has transpired overnight. First things first. He reaches for the handle and the lock...does not budge. So.
Jade knocks crisply on 109's door instead, frowning slightly and arms folded expectantly. Surely not a particularly alarming sort of person to find on your doorstep at just a few minutes past six in the morning: a tall man in some sort of teal military uniform, unnaturally red eyes peering critically behind a pair of glasses, when the person on the other side of the door is revealed to be...hmm.]
...Well now, you're certainly not Yuuki. [It's not meant to be accusatory, at least?! ...Well, alright, it might be a little accusatory. Sorry Steve--]
(open i); magic mirrors to pretend
[The rest of the day progresses along, of course, as days tend to do. At some point Jade manages to make it out of the cabin hall(if not probably without sustaining a good punch or two from potentially multiple emotionally compromised teenaged youths in the process), but his feet take him around on something like autopilot while the rest of his thoughts still reel from the inevitable news reunion brings. Months, several months of absence. All while events continued transpiring, the situation upon the ship slowly but surely unraveling ever further out of hand, and now...
It really is as if some sort of disaster has swept its way through the majority of the public areas, residue from the chaos of the "launch" yet to be entirely cleared. Jade wanders from the atrium to sundries, the dining room and the library, the sprawling mess of the promenade and all the way up to the sports deck, a rough mimic of the route he'd always take in semi-daily walks of the ship to canvass its status in the past. The strangest part, of all this, is how it still feels as if he'd taken such a walk just the other day...and yet.
...Lingering overly long upon it only makes it increasingly, stiflingly disquieting. As his wandering progresses, Jade is increasingly wearing an air of searching for something, though it's difficult to divine exactly what that might be from a distance. In the interim, he can be accosted just about anyplace: perhaps squinting at the new shirts in the Bric-a-Brac, or opening the door to the Tommy Bahama and nearly tripping over the small wave of hot dogs that pour through it (???????), or peering pensively at the single lonely signpost holding sentinel between the pool bar and the adult pool. "The signs have been hidden. If anything comes here, it’s better that we tell it where we come from or where we want to go on our own terms..."
It really does seem that he's been returned none too soon. But whether it's entirely too late...well. Perhaps there's no point in fretting over that now.
Perhaps...]
(open ii); seismographic data in our hearts
[In the end, it's the memorial that finally makes it feel truly and unnervingly tangible.
He almost misses it in weaving carefully around the other various keepsakes left here, yet in the end it's the ridiculous rappig-shaped sticker affixing it to the little display that catches the corner of Jade's eye and holds it. Recognition sinks in as he approaches, the shape of the notebook paper, the densely narrow handwriting that's his own. Then, legible as he draws to a halt in front of it...the actual contents of the words. A partial argument proposal draft, started long ago, never finished. "On the societal integration of living replicas..."
The one good deed he hoped he'd ever accomplish. It had felt pointless to complete the draft, upon learning that this existence was likely simply an offshoot of the man still undoubtedly pursuing this cause back in the world of Auldrant. That other Jade who would certainly, ideally, strive to remedy the plight of replicas in his own stead. Yet still, someone looked at this paper here and now, and decided it was still a cause that could represent his memory--even here.
...Ah. Perhaps this is how it must feel, then, to stand before a grave with a heart that isn't numb. What a chilly and sinking sort of sensation. Or is this just a particularly unique sort of experience one gets, when visiting the metaphorical coffin you've all but literally been buried in?
Jade stands and stares at the paper for far too long, and even when he does reach out eventually, fingertips only pinch at a corner and do not pull--uncertain whether it'd be better to take it back, or leave it here.]
(wildcard); let's invent them all again
[Feel free to bring a prompt of your own if none of the above quite fit! 🎉 Jade can be found pretty much anywhere on the ship rn so, go wild go crazy]
What: You ever wake up from a nap so long and ill-advised that now it's four months later and everything's been on fire and the apocalypse apparently may or may not be incoming--
When: Latter half of January, we're wobbling timelines as much as we like for this one folks
Where: Cabin 133 --> Cabin 109, various locales of the ship afterwards
Warnings: Potential high volume of gross feelings and unexpected hugs from unexpected places, also mad teenaged punching probably, but otherwise uuh probably nothing terrible??
(closed to steve & natsuno); folding chairs and building blocks
[For the first thirty seconds or so, Jade doesn't notice anything amiss. This is on account of not actually opening his eyes, and not actually thinking about anything, for the duration of those thirty seconds. It's quite nice.
The perpetual rock of the ship still sways, as it always has. All is quiet, as this hour of morning always is. This has been...a rather deep and dreamless sleep, which does happen for him on occasion, though it's a rarity. The couch-bed is oddly quite comfortable for once, as well. All told, this might just be the best night's rest he's had in possibly years--
And then he opens his eyes, and turns his head, and the serenity promptly evaporates.
(Gets up from an--actual bed, which is ostensibly Natsuno's bed. The rest of the room--all articles of furniture technically where they should be, yet there's a clean and distinct emptiness, more akin to inn quarters freshly turned over by housekeeping than a place two people have lived in for well over a year. Nothing in desk drawers, or the wardrobe. And all that before stepping out the cabin door, and into...a portion of the residential hall that's far further along than it ought to be. "133", reads the placard on the wall...?)
It's more an automatic impulse than practical sense that leads Jade's highly disoriented self down the hall to cabin 109. Are there...singe marks, on some of the walls? A scattering of debris even here, that he's rather certain hadn't been here yesterday? Later, worry about it later, whatever has transpired overnight. First things first. He reaches for the handle and the lock...does not budge. So.
Jade knocks crisply on 109's door instead, frowning slightly and arms folded expectantly. Surely not a particularly alarming sort of person to find on your doorstep at just a few minutes past six in the morning: a tall man in some sort of teal military uniform, unnaturally red eyes peering critically behind a pair of glasses, when the person on the other side of the door is revealed to be...hmm.]
...Well now, you're certainly not Yuuki. [It's not meant to be accusatory, at least?! ...Well, alright, it might be a little accusatory. Sorry Steve--]
(open i); magic mirrors to pretend
[The rest of the day progresses along, of course, as days tend to do. At some point Jade manages to make it out of the cabin hall
It really is as if some sort of disaster has swept its way through the majority of the public areas, residue from the chaos of the "launch" yet to be entirely cleared. Jade wanders from the atrium to sundries, the dining room and the library, the sprawling mess of the promenade and all the way up to the sports deck, a rough mimic of the route he'd always take in semi-daily walks of the ship to canvass its status in the past. The strangest part, of all this, is how it still feels as if he'd taken such a walk just the other day...and yet.
...Lingering overly long upon it only makes it increasingly, stiflingly disquieting. As his wandering progresses, Jade is increasingly wearing an air of searching for something, though it's difficult to divine exactly what that might be from a distance. In the interim, he can be accosted just about anyplace: perhaps squinting at the new shirts in the Bric-a-Brac, or opening the door to the Tommy Bahama and nearly tripping over the small wave of hot dogs that pour through it (???????), or peering pensively at the single lonely signpost holding sentinel between the pool bar and the adult pool. "The signs have been hidden. If anything comes here, it’s better that we tell it where we come from or where we want to go on our own terms..."
It really does seem that he's been returned none too soon. But whether it's entirely too late...well. Perhaps there's no point in fretting over that now.
Perhaps...]
(open ii); seismographic data in our hearts
[In the end, it's the memorial that finally makes it feel truly and unnervingly tangible.
He almost misses it in weaving carefully around the other various keepsakes left here, yet in the end it's the ridiculous rappig-shaped sticker affixing it to the little display that catches the corner of Jade's eye and holds it. Recognition sinks in as he approaches, the shape of the notebook paper, the densely narrow handwriting that's his own. Then, legible as he draws to a halt in front of it...the actual contents of the words. A partial argument proposal draft, started long ago, never finished. "On the societal integration of living replicas..."
The one good deed he hoped he'd ever accomplish. It had felt pointless to complete the draft, upon learning that this existence was likely simply an offshoot of the man still undoubtedly pursuing this cause back in the world of Auldrant. That other Jade who would certainly, ideally, strive to remedy the plight of replicas in his own stead. Yet still, someone looked at this paper here and now, and decided it was still a cause that could represent his memory--even here.
...Ah. Perhaps this is how it must feel, then, to stand before a grave with a heart that isn't numb. What a chilly and sinking sort of sensation. Or is this just a particularly unique sort of experience one gets, when visiting the metaphorical coffin you've all but literally been buried in?
Jade stands and stares at the paper for far too long, and even when he does reach out eventually, fingertips only pinch at a corner and do not pull--uncertain whether it'd be better to take it back, or leave it here.]
(wildcard); let's invent them all again
[Feel free to bring a prompt of your own if none of the above quite fit! 🎉 Jade can be found pretty much anywhere on the ship rn so, go wild go crazy]
no subject
As he leans over, only the tips of her toes make contact with the floor. She totters, a little unsteadily. Her grip around him doesn't loosen. She refuses to let go, as if he might suddenly vanish a second time. Or she's also making sure this isn't any hallucination. It may be a bold move coming from her, when she usually tries to be polite. She presses her face against him, emitting a faint muffled sniffling. Sorry, a small child is going to sob into the fabric of his clothing. ]
...I missed you. I was really sad when you went away, but I knew we'd meet again someday. I think that... for a lot of people that disappear. A lot of stuff happened. I still keep your capacity core with me at all times. I have both of them now.
[ And if he looks at her left wrist, she has both of gold discs attached like a bracelet. ]
no subject
It's a bit delayed--perhaps it'll never be entirely natural as an immediate inclination, not really--but once more, Jade finds himself drawing upon his vague memories of Nephry when she was about Fio's age. Alongside that, too, is a much newer frame of reference...as thoughts flicker back to that time almost all of them had collectively spent in the labyrinth, where Clarke Griffin had foisted a hug upon him just as surprisingly. "You're supposed to put your arms around my shoulders now." Hmm.
The support under Fio's arms is gingerly released, which will probably leave her eventually sliding back down that last inch or two onto the floor via the inexorable pull of gravity. But, while she still clings so, as she insists...Jade's remaining leaned over a bit, the better to very lightly circle his arms about her small shoulders instead. Carefully, very carefully, and perhaps still a bit too stiffly, but. More of a hug back, something like it. Nephry would complain about it, probably, but all Fio says is...
Such open sentiments. She really is quite an honest girl, isn't she? Jade finds himself glad that Fio seemingly hasn't changed overly much in several months, but there's also...quite a pang, to hear it quite this plainly. That he was missed, that the absence saddened her. He'd always considered himself likely more of an odd-duck sort of friend to her, compared to the robust found family circle that surrounds her. Yet it would seem she had considered him quite more highly than that, as it turns out.
How very far they've come indeed, from morbidly speculating over poison in the buffet.]
And your prediction was correct after all, now wasn't it? Here we are, meeting again. Perhaps I am proof that the same might be so for the others too, in time. [It's not really the sort of optimism he usually leans into, but aloud, for once...yes, for once. There's a very light pat at Fio's back.] Not so surprising that a great deal has happened, in this sort of place. It's good to hear that you're still--hmm? ...'Both of them'?
[Both...? His glance is slipping sidelong to her wrist indeed, and sure enough, there are now two capacity cores there. One disc rather faded and worn with thorough use, but the other...
A more polished sort of gold, almost new, sparsely as it was ever used. A far more intricate pattern etched into its face, around the embedded gems that gleam. Ah.]
That...did Yuuki give you that second one, Miss Fio?
no subject
Eventually, as he's leaned over, she allows her heels to touch the floor and loosens her grip enough for both of them to gradually peel away from the embrace. For the most part. Even as she slips away, one small hand remains latched on, fingers clinging to the fabric of his clothing.
A sniffle, blinking tears out of her eyes. ]
...Mister Specs smells like coffee. [ However, Fio's not exactly bothered by the scent. Only murmuring her observation out loud. Then she raises her voice a little, back to a normal volume. ]
Uh-huh. Yuuyu was giving away some stuff. The first one you gave me, it says nocere. Mischievous. That makes me sturdy. [ Obviously he already knows this. After all, he was the one who told her all about it in the first place. She shouldn't have to parrot it back to him. But she's a child who enjoys showing off, often proudly telling others about the first capacity core that he had given her. See, be impressed that she remembers! ] It's like you're always with me, even when you're away... [ She wiggles her wrist a little, rattling the second accessory. ] This one—I've been taking care of it. It's shinier... and pretty. I could tell it's important. I can give it back to you now. I always wondered what it said and what it could do... and now, you can finally tell me.
no subject
Ah, don't mind that, if you'd be so kind...I had a bit of a coffee incident this morning, and it seems the effects still linger. [Which is...one way, to describe how he'd been all but tackled by one particular young lady getting a bit too careless with her latte. But anyway!
...Anyway...
Fio recites what he'd told her all that time ago, about that first capacity core. Which, yes, he already knows...but it's quite a surprising thing indeed, to find that she still remembers even now--and has evidently maintained this memory with great care. The slow release of the hug isn't the only reason that the awkward line of tension in Jade's shoulders eases, about now; he smiles in a fashion decidedly less sardonic than usual, and nods slightly. Yes, this is an impressed sort of reaction...well, and there's maybe a couple of other feelings happening too, but let's not get into all that--]
Correct, that's what nocere does. And as for this second one...well, clearly Yuuki's judgment was quite sound. I'd trust no one more, to take such good care of it in my absence. No need to be hasty about returning it, hm? ...I wouldn't mind telling you about this one at all, Miss Fio. But first...here, let's see...
[Jade reaches into an inner pocket of his uniform coat for--ah, yes, still there. He's still kept at least one spare kerchief on his person at any given time for any number of possible occasions, and...there's a very strange sense of déjà vu, suddenly, in offering it down to Fio as he does. (They'd been in the library that time before, hadn't they? When he'd encountered her teary-eyed after his own death in the Battle Royale, and gave her that first capacity core to begin with...)]
Let's have a seat, shall we? I've nowhere pressing to be for awhile.
[While she dries her eyes, if she'd like. He'll move once Fio's ready, though if she wants to keep a hand on his coat until they reach the chairs...well. Maybe that's quite alright.]
no subject
...'Kay.
[ Fio finally speaks in another small croak, this time towards his invitation to sit. They start moving and once they reach the chairs, it takes her another moment. Standing in place for several long seconds, like she's still processing that she should probably let of his coat so they can sit.
Eventually, she does slowly slip away, slipping comfortably in one of the chairs. She dabs at her cheeks a little more. ]
You always talked lots. I missed listening to you talk, even if it was hard to understand sometimes. But I still learned something new.
no subject
You know, I think you may be one of a rare few who actually enjoy hearing me talk. Some would say it's really quite too much--but that just means there's an audience for anything, isn't there? [Normally it's a sort of thing he'd poke more fun at if it were anyone else, but as always, Fio's earnest honesty makes it difficult. ...'Still learned something new', hm...] I must admit, I still find the thought of having "students" a very strange thing too. But you've always been a very good student yourself, always listening. You can always let me know, if I need to slow down...
May I see that capacity core, a moment?
[A hand is extended her way, if Fio's willing to offer it over. A small pause would follow Jade weighing it in his palm for a long moment, a thumb slipping once across the immaculate disc and its robust gems. Even inert like this, there is a perfect impression of balance in the fonic structure of its invisible artifical slots; exposed to artes or any other sort of elemental magic, it would promptly reinforce such efforts with a steady well-tuned thrum. Any fonist or fighter worth their salt would happily pay a pretty penny for such a robust capacity core.
But all Jade can think about is the hand that last held it, before it appeared on this ship. ...And that was why he left it in a drawer for so long, now wasn't it?]
Here, you've likely noticed by now, how there are fewer letters around the edge. This one's name is much shorter, ironically. [He tips the surface of the capacity core so that Fio can see what he means, the sparse inscription around the rim of the disc.] Tutti. ...This name means "all". While the first core I gave you makes you sturdier, this one will make you sturdy as well--but not just that. Stronger, too, both physically and with any magic you might wield. Your steps will also be a little faster, your reflexes a little sharper. It's why many back home would consider this a very good charm to have, in a fight.
[...He offers it back to Fio, an odd sort of expression settling on his face.]
This one was my teacher's.
no subject
Tutti... that sounds a little like one of my friends' names. His name was Tutie. [ Her tearstained face breaks out into a small delighted grin. Too-tee. Which she made up from the last syllable of the word "substitute." ] So that word means "all". 'Cause it makes... all things stronger. Got it. Both physically and magically.
[ She takes the disc back into her palm, then pauses suddenly. His teacher—she hasn't forgotten what happened to her... ] Oh... [ Closing her hands around the capacity core, she presses it against her chest. ] If you're... really sure giving this to me, I promise I'll take good care of it.