See these empty hands/know that it was all for you/but I'll see you again
WHO: Galatea sightlessgod
WHAT: That tsunami was fun, wasn't it? Keep your head above water, God Eye. [Nightmare the second]
WHERE: In the ocean!
WHEN: Early this morning (September 28th)
Exhaustion was not an ordinary feeling for Galatea. She'd used up a great deal of her yoma energy in an attempt to heal the wound brought on by her nightmare, carted Strife off to a clinic after he'd almost bled to death in his bedroom, and spent the next few days in a hyper-aware, panicked state. Now exhaustion felt as if it was in every pore, every nerve. It weighed down on her. In her waking moments she would carefully measure the days she could go without sleeping. During her service under the Organization, she could manage at least a week without sleeping at all, could travel days without resting, could fight. Kill. Nothing had changed about that.
But it had been ten days now, and she could feel how tired she was. Another thought occurred, and one she did not entertain for long: perhaps she was afraid of sleeping now. But Galatea was not afraid of many things. She had not been afraid of Riful and her oaf, merely cautious. She had not been afraid of leaving the Organization, but fed up. And she had not been afraid of being captured and killed by that color-head and her beserker child, only accepting of her fate. She was not afraid of sleeping, and she was most certainly not afraid of dreams.
So, she slept.
And dreamed--
----
--of waves. There were waves everywhere, great crashing white waves, and a storm that pelted from above. The sky was a strange color: not gray, as one would think, but the rich black color of ink. There were no stars. There was no light, only the flashing streaks of lightning. It was hard to see, but Galatea focused and saw what she'd been looking for: a dark shock of hair. A girl. Her eyes were closed.
"Matsuri--" She tried to say, but her voice was swallowed by the waves and the storm, and she fought to keep her head above the water. She was strong enough to swim, but Matsuri wasn't...she'd be caught in the waves and lost forever in the depths of the ocean. Galatea pushed forward, the water pushed back, and there was a terrifying, soundless moment where Matsuri's head went underwater.
She didn't come back up, and so Galatea followed.
Something was wrong about this scenario, some part of her realized. By the time she'd found Matsuri the first time, the water had passed and the girl was dead. There had been no great struggle amongst the unforgiving ocean. There was no storm, and this had never happened. But it didn't matter, because it was happening now, and Galatea had to save her because she'd failed before, she'd failed and nearly Awakened, and she was the one who had to be saved...
...the water was so still down below, and so quiet. Galatea swam toward Matsuri in slow-motion it seemed, and reached out to grab her hand...but her grip slipped away. Underneath the waves, the girl seemed so small and insubstantial. A ghost, and Galatea wondered why she'd ever thought the illusion was real in the first place.
Matsuri slipped away from her, into the darkness, and Galatea felt herself slipping too. The lack of oxygen burned now, and bright white spotted her vision. But it would only be for a few moments longer. Eventually that pain would pass too, and she wouldn't have to feel anything, not anymore. It didn't even pass her mind to fight and try to reach the surface again. Matsuri was gone, and she'd failed a second time. What did it matter?
For a Claymore to be drowning, said a voice that she recognized, ...seems to be sad. But then again...
It isn't that sad, Ophelia, she heard herself saying, better than the way you died, anyway. Awakening and being killed by 47, of all people. I don't really think you're in any position to judge. That has to be one of the most pathetic ways to die that I've ever heard of. Falling on your own sword would have been more dignified.
The voice fell into what Galatea believed to be a sullen silence, and she managed a smile. Really, it wasn't that bad at all. Just a peaceful silence, and the sensation of floating...
---
Galatea awoke and very quickly surmised that she was drowning to death, and that it lacked all of the gentle tranquility it had while she'd been dreaming. Panic settled in for a moment, and then she began to swim in what direction she knew was up, and even that seemed to take an inordinate amount of time. How far under had she gone, anyway? Eventually, she found her way above the water and from there onto the shore.
She choked up the water and laid there for a moment in the sand, trembling and coughing and (just barely) alive.
And then, she started to laugh, a half-amused, half-hysterical sort of laugh. Eventually, the laughter would taper off into anger and frustration, but for now she found the entire situation to be morbidly hilarious. Ophelia really was right.
Drowning was really a sad way to go.
WHAT: That tsunami was fun, wasn't it? Keep your head above water, God Eye. [Nightmare the second]
WHERE: In the ocean!
WHEN: Early this morning (September 28th)
Exhaustion was not an ordinary feeling for Galatea. She'd used up a great deal of her yoma energy in an attempt to heal the wound brought on by her nightmare, carted Strife off to a clinic after he'd almost bled to death in his bedroom, and spent the next few days in a hyper-aware, panicked state. Now exhaustion felt as if it was in every pore, every nerve. It weighed down on her. In her waking moments she would carefully measure the days she could go without sleeping. During her service under the Organization, she could manage at least a week without sleeping at all, could travel days without resting, could fight. Kill. Nothing had changed about that.
But it had been ten days now, and she could feel how tired she was. Another thought occurred, and one she did not entertain for long: perhaps she was afraid of sleeping now. But Galatea was not afraid of many things. She had not been afraid of Riful and her oaf, merely cautious. She had not been afraid of leaving the Organization, but fed up. And she had not been afraid of being captured and killed by that color-head and her beserker child, only accepting of her fate. She was not afraid of sleeping, and she was most certainly not afraid of dreams.
So, she slept.
And dreamed--
----
--of waves. There were waves everywhere, great crashing white waves, and a storm that pelted from above. The sky was a strange color: not gray, as one would think, but the rich black color of ink. There were no stars. There was no light, only the flashing streaks of lightning. It was hard to see, but Galatea focused and saw what she'd been looking for: a dark shock of hair. A girl. Her eyes were closed.
"Matsuri--" She tried to say, but her voice was swallowed by the waves and the storm, and she fought to keep her head above the water. She was strong enough to swim, but Matsuri wasn't...she'd be caught in the waves and lost forever in the depths of the ocean. Galatea pushed forward, the water pushed back, and there was a terrifying, soundless moment where Matsuri's head went underwater.
She didn't come back up, and so Galatea followed.
Something was wrong about this scenario, some part of her realized. By the time she'd found Matsuri the first time, the water had passed and the girl was dead. There had been no great struggle amongst the unforgiving ocean. There was no storm, and this had never happened. But it didn't matter, because it was happening now, and Galatea had to save her because she'd failed before, she'd failed and nearly Awakened, and she was the one who had to be saved...
...the water was so still down below, and so quiet. Galatea swam toward Matsuri in slow-motion it seemed, and reached out to grab her hand...but her grip slipped away. Underneath the waves, the girl seemed so small and insubstantial. A ghost, and Galatea wondered why she'd ever thought the illusion was real in the first place.
Matsuri slipped away from her, into the darkness, and Galatea felt herself slipping too. The lack of oxygen burned now, and bright white spotted her vision. But it would only be for a few moments longer. Eventually that pain would pass too, and she wouldn't have to feel anything, not anymore. It didn't even pass her mind to fight and try to reach the surface again. Matsuri was gone, and she'd failed a second time. What did it matter?
For a Claymore to be drowning, said a voice that she recognized, ...seems to be sad. But then again...
It isn't that sad, Ophelia, she heard herself saying, better than the way you died, anyway. Awakening and being killed by 47, of all people. I don't really think you're in any position to judge. That has to be one of the most pathetic ways to die that I've ever heard of. Falling on your own sword would have been more dignified.
The voice fell into what Galatea believed to be a sullen silence, and she managed a smile. Really, it wasn't that bad at all. Just a peaceful silence, and the sensation of floating...
---
Galatea awoke and very quickly surmised that she was drowning to death, and that it lacked all of the gentle tranquility it had while she'd been dreaming. Panic settled in for a moment, and then she began to swim in what direction she knew was up, and even that seemed to take an inordinate amount of time. How far under had she gone, anyway? Eventually, she found her way above the water and from there onto the shore.
She choked up the water and laid there for a moment in the sand, trembling and coughing and (just barely) alive.
And then, she started to laugh, a half-amused, half-hysterical sort of laugh. Eventually, the laughter would taper off into anger and frustration, but for now she found the entire situation to be morbidly hilarious. Ophelia really was right.
Drowning was really a sad way to go.