[Log] Reunion of father and daughter
Who: Elfé and Veld
When: Today, right after Elfé's voice post.
Location: Kalm, Veld's doorstep
Rating: PGish? Family angst for sure
Summary: Veld finds his daughter on his doorstep in Kalm.
( It was just one of those mornings... )
When: Today, right after Elfé's voice post.
Location: Kalm, Veld's doorstep
Rating: PGish? Family angst for sure
Summary: Veld finds his daughter on his doorstep in Kalm.
( It was just one of those mornings... )
That girl... she had mentioned something about 'returning to the Lifestream,' but before Elfe could reply another voice (this one far more familiar) interrupted their conversation. By surprise, she had accidentally disconnected from the network, and consequentially, from the stranger on the other end.
"Felicia..."
She stared into a tired face for a moment before realizing it was her father's. But something wasn't right... she didn't remember...
[FLASH]
He was holding her hand gently, his weathered palm hiding her unsightly scar--
[FLASH]
--Was he crying? He was saying something to her... she couldn't make it out. She was so tired...
Felicia. Yes, she had been called that for a year, now. The young woman hadn't had the heart to tell her only parent that she was 'Elfe,' that her memories were still in pieces and that she couldn't remember...
But she did, and it all came back so fast that she almost reeled.
"...Father?" she barely managed to gasp, expression pained for a moment before she was able to relax a little.
"Where... Why are we in Kalm?"
They were supposed to be in hiding, and she couldn't help but feel (almost wildly) unsettled, having woken up outside on the street. In a town as small as theirs, she wouldn't be surprised if half their neighbors had already spotted her lying out cold in front of the house.
...Whose house...?
[OOC: No, she doesn't realize yet that he's 9+ years older than when she last saw him...]
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"Felicia...come inside," Veld opened the door wider, reaching out to take her arm gently, worry clear on his face.
If the neighbors saw anything, he would deal with that later. He had the reputation already of being a grumpy old man of the town, so few dared to meddle in his business, for which he was thankful.
"I live here now, since...well, there will be time to update you. First, let's get you taken care of." First things first, and Veld was a father first and foremost. Other things could, and would, wait for now.
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After the incident with the Zirconiade, the young woman had been all but confined to her bed, unable to move around for extended periods without assistance from her father. It became... slightly better after a few weeks had lazed by, but Elfé was never the same again. (It would have be easy enough to convince herself she'd just had another fainting episode but--)
"You live here? Just how long was I sleeping for? Please, tell me what's going on. ...I'm fine."
That was a lie, more or less, but she was growing more confused (and nearing impatience) with each passing minute. It was odd. She usually wouldn't have felt so anxious but... something was terribly off. Elfé hadn't realized that the very act of existing was what bothered her.
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"You...were not sleeping." He sat opposite of her, not sure how to tell her if she did not remember. It broke his heart to lose her twice, telling her was not easy.
"What do you remember last?" he asked slowly, choosing his words carefully. There were painful memories in both their pasts, ones he did not want to stir up unnecessarily, especially for her sake.
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His hand was gentle, warmth permeating even the dead skin of her scar. He had brushed back the hair from her face, as he had done so many time before. Before... before what?
Before the fire. Elfé closed her eyes and smelled smoke, felt the ash and sting of it behind her lids. Her mother had taken her by the hand, and they ran not only from the bombs but from the soldiers.
The soldiers, they were too fast for any panicked mother and her blundering child.
Why... why were these memories coming back now?
"I... was really tired, but I couldn't fall asleep... It hurt and I think... I think you had to hum that lullaby to me..."
The pain... the lullaby... was everything from her childhood or adult memories? She couldn't tell, anymore. They just came and didn't stop coming.
A dark mansion. Her mother, crying. Softly glowing orbs, that she once believed to be the most beautiful things she'd ever seen in her life. Strange, jade-colored vessels. A dark-haired man, with dull yet terrifying eyes behind round-rimmed spectacles. Numbers. She had been a number.
Elfé found herself gasping for breath, as if someone had cruelly grabbed her by the hair and forced her head-first into a tub of ice and water. Repeatedly.
"Please," she was beseeching him, unable to argue or fight or do anything but beg. A hand shakily reached out and gripped his shoulder, to reassure her she was here, and that here was real.
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No matter how old she was, no matter what happened, she was still his little girl, and seeing her in pain broke his heart.
He had caused her so much pain already, he would not let her down again, and would stay with her. But now was not the time to think about his own guilt.
"Take a deep breath, it's alright now," Veld spoke softly as he stroked her hair, trying to soothe those fears the best he could. He waited for a moment, until she wasn't gasping for breath.
"I took you here after...after we were supposed to be dead according to ShinRa. Tseng faked our deaths, and we came here so you could rest and recover but...you died." the words were hard to say but he owed her an explanation.
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"...Yes, I remember Tseng but--"
...you died.
Her eyes, half-open from mental and physical fatigue, snapped wide and full. The young woman remained frozen for a lingering minute, until logic decided to usher her back into the present. She was a sensible person, after all, and if her father had told her she'd died, there was no reason to argue. Elfé then realized how disturbingly familiar it all seemed.
"The experiment's a failure. Dispose of the samples."
...She wasn't dead. Why... why were they...
Needles-- steel-- florid green-blue liquid-- red, red blood...
...darkness.
Yes, she had 'died' once before. How routine it all suddenly felt. (Yet... she didn't remember the Lifestream.)
"...How long?" She asked, quietly, studying his features as she waited for his account. She hadn't realized how much older he appeared to her, until now.
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He tended to forget how the years had aged and worn him down, little by little.
Veld watched her carefully, able to catch the signs of fatigue and he patted her shoulder softly, there would be much to catch her up on current events but he did not not want to burden her with too much at once.
"You should rest, I can catch you up on other things after you get some sleep," he said softly, Turk or not, Veld couldn't help but be a protective father as well.
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Would they still be alive now? Her soldiers? She had failed them after all, hadn't she... Elfé glanced at her hand, almost involuntarily. The scar which had once reminded her that the Zirconiade was indeed within her (though she couldn't feel it), now reminded her that it was not.
If only it hadn't been damaged...
She'd told herself countless times. If it had not been damaged, she would have never become sick. She might have lead her troops to victory....
But she might have never met her father, either, and instead unknowingly cause him harm--killed him, even,--in the battlefield.
Elfé saw the tired lines traced through his (still very handsome) face, worry etched into his countenance, and decided not to press him further. After all, he must have felt as weary from the ordeal as she did. The questions could come later; besides, she knew him to be a man of his word.
"...I understand."
When he had helped her into a bed (was it his? Someone else's? There were so many things she didn't know...), she couldn't help but feel heavy reluctance as sleep eventually claimed her once more.
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