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
But that was home. And this is here. And somehow, hearing this from Rita in that half-sobbed fashion, as she clings to his coat and refuses to let go...it prompts some sort of feeling that isn't all bitter edges, somewhere in the pit of Jade's chest.
No idea what it is. No time to really examine it. The hand on Rita's shoulder squeezes a bit, inadvertently, and...well, quite fortunate that she can't see the look on his face at this precise moment, at the very least. Gives him some time to school it, before Rita gets around to looking up again...]
Naturally, I'd expect no less of you. I can only imagine it'd be an everlasting sort of grudge. In fact, you don't even really have to forgive me now, just for the record... [If she wants to lean into the anger, at any point. Natsuno had certainly settled for it first, this morning, and Jade can imagine that as its own sort of catharsis. Just as he doesn't blame the boy then, so he wouldn't blame Rita now, for grasping the same sort of thing--warranted or not, rational or not.] ...But, in the meantime. When you're ready. Perhaps we should take a walk?
no subject
...Either he's feeling weirdly generous or weirdly guilty, but either way: weird is the vital descriptor, here.]
Hmph...you're forgiven. [A beat, but to avoid making this too gross, it's followed by a hasty:] But you're on thin ice, okay?!
[Anyway. He suggests they take a walk, when she's ready, and it feels utterly surreal, somehow even more strange than hugging him. A walk, with someone she feared she'd never get to see and talk with again? How many times did she wish she could speak with him or get his opinion on something these past few months? And now she wouldn't even know where to begin or what to say. Besides, when she's ready--embarrassingly, she doesn't know when ready will ever come.
But--dragging out a hug with him will only make it more embarrassing, so she nods and finally starts to peel herself away, rubbing an arm across her eyes in a futile attempt at erasing the signs of crying as if she didn't just do so right into his front, anyway.]
You haven't--forgotten the layout of the ship or anything, right?
[It's an unnecessary question, but it's something to fill the air, anyway.]
no subject
So really, it's not as if she could actually be blamed for maybe not actually being "ready" for even something like a walk anytime too soon. Still, Rita powers through it all the same, and the least Jade could do is attempt taking up that momentum in turn. He straightens a bit as they separate, hands falling away, and tucking into his pockets after a moment.]
Thin ice, yes. Understood, naturally. For the rest of the day I'll be on my best behavior, rest assured. [Here, a ghost of something like his more customary sardonic lilt, attempting to make a proper return at last. Jade draws a step back, and then gestures for Rita to follow him, as he turns back towards the Promenade and...in the direction of the staircase leading away from it.] As for the layout here, no, I haven't forgotten. For me it still feels as if I were here just yesterday, after all.
[Which is still...such a discomfiting sort of thought. Let's attempt to breeze past it--]
Unless there have been any particularly immense changes in the last several months, of course. Is the laundry room at least still where it's always been?
[He's sure hoping the laundry room wasn't too completely vandalized, anyway! He's got a coffee-related problem to fix now, after all--]
no subject
But he sure is breezing right past it, huh? As if she doesn't notice. Really, the laundry? Is he going to ask about the weather next?]
Of course it is. You know how obvious it-
[Ah, wait. Having finished clearing any further offending moisture from her eyes, she lifts her gaze to look at him properly, and finds--a very obvious dark stain on the front of his uniform. Oh.]
...Oh. That--well--I mean, sorry.
no subject
Oh, not to worry, not to worry at all. You can make it up to me by filling in the wash time with sufficiently interesting chatter, hm? If you think you could manage, of course! [Sort of a prod for the sake of getting a more normal rise out of Rita, this time...the apology from her sits so very strangely at the moment, after all. (As if she should be the one apologizing for anything about this, when in the end she and other friends he'd inadvertently left behind were the ones made to suffer more by far...)] The most notable things that have transpired of late, off the top of your head--that would be a good start. I am already aware that apparently we've fired a rocket at the barrier and succeeded in piercing it. ...Was that a weapon someone acquired from sundries? It must have been quite sizeable, to have the firepower capable of such a feat...
no subject
So he might just find her not exactly rising to the prodding the way she normally would. Not immediately, anyway, though she does finally give a somewhat vacant-]
Huh, you're as well-informed as usual, even after...
[Hm. Maybe it's her turn to breeze on past that.]
Anyway, yeah, I guess it was pretty sizeable, but none of it was weaponry. It just needed enough thrust to leave the barrier, and that could be provided by magic.
no subject
Well, naturally, I do so very hate being behind on anything for too long. --And I spoke with Yuuki first, before anyone else, so between him and a few others I've started to pick up some details. [Lots of breezing along happening all around, here, let's keep it up. Stepping into the stairwell, and waiting for Rita to catch up before starting on it:] A rocket that was not weaponry, though, is that so? Perhaps we're speaking of a rather different sort of device entirely, then, from what came to mind for me. Old military habit, alas. [...Hm.] Supplemented by magic...did you contribute? With sigils, I suppose? I take it Theodora is still inert, presently...
[Seeing as the blastia had been inert just yesterday--to him. The words come out before Jade reminds himself of the months that have passed in reality yet again, though, and with this realization a part of him does suddenly wonder if perhaps anything actually did change on that front--]
no subject
He is back. He's back. They never thought they'd see him again, but here he is, and...ultimately, underneath all the pent-up anger and despair over his disappearance, she is happy that he's once again reappeared. It's not every day someone comes back from what is effectively dead. So it is that she falls into step with him on the stairs, and it doesn't feel overly odd despite all the time that's passed. Maybe because she's pretty confident this is no dream or illusion.
Anyway, he spoke to Natsuno already, and distantly she thinks that makes sense; he must have thought that Cabin 109 was still his room, and she'll have to get his new number. She's sidetracked from that by the way the subject naturally segues to Theodora, and she finally manages something that almost resembles a faint grin.]
Hey, who do you take me for? [She points her her throat, where the gold choker sits just as it used to, before that Halloween incident.] A genius mage doesn't just sit around for months while a blastia needs repair.
[Sure, she only just finished said repair, but trivial details!!]