Late Thursday Evening, Contemplating and Listening and Making a Decision
Rikku was sitting out on the cliffs over Selkie Cove, a sleeping cat in her lap, thinking about everything Professor Skywalker had said after Flight class. Thinking about how tired and flat Horatio's voice had sounded on the phone. Thinking about the week spent repeating the same words over and over again and crying and apologizing and raging and crying and oh, Hamlet.
The off-beat piano chords were so soft that at first she thought she was imagining them. And then an ethereal voice began twining itself around them, and she closed her eyes.
Jumped in the river, what did I see?
Black eyed angels swim with me
It almost sounded like a funeral hymn. She'd missed the funeral; Horatio said he was buried at some church she couldn't quite pronounce the way he did. Buried.
A moon full of stars, and astral cars
And all the figures I used to see
It was all wrong, it shouldn't be happening, but she should know by now that that didn't change anything. What shouldn't happen, did, and you couldn't stop it, and screaming about it just made your voice hoarse.
And we all went to heaven in a little rowboat
There was nothing to fear, nothing to doubt
Maybe it was a balance for the way sometimes life handed you a gift.
... And then the tempo changed, and everything was the same but slightly different, as if you were looking at the same picture taken from a camera two feet to the left.
Jumped into the river
Rikku didn't believe in signs, any more than she believed in heaven or hell or Karal's Sunlord or any number of other things she could think of, but ... the Farplane had been real. A field of flowers and pyreflies and the most beautiful waterfall and if that was where Hamlet was, then he was okay.
All my lovers were there with me
All my pasts and futures
And we all went to heaven in a little rowboat
And she was here, without him, and without other people that should be here every bit as much. And that hurt.
Just because it hurt didn't mean it wouldn't be okay.
there was nothing to fear, nothing to doubt
there was nothing to fear, nothing to doubt
She sat for a long time after the song ended, letting the tears stream down her face and not apologizing for them. Not stopping them, or fighting them.
And then she sat and waited to see if more were coming, but there didn't seem to be. And that was all right, too.
"Okay," she said, to nobody in particular. "Denmark. I'll go this weekend. I'll put a rose on his grave and yell at him and cry and say good-bye. I can do this."
She took the silence as agreement, and nodded, scooping up the Judekitty. "C'mon," she said, kissing the top of his head and snuggling him as she stood up. "We've gotta pack."
(OOC: Not for interaction, but OOC is love.)
The off-beat piano chords were so soft that at first she thought she was imagining them. And then an ethereal voice began twining itself around them, and she closed her eyes.
Jumped in the river, what did I see?
Black eyed angels swim with me
It almost sounded like a funeral hymn. She'd missed the funeral; Horatio said he was buried at some church she couldn't quite pronounce the way he did. Buried.
A moon full of stars, and astral cars
And all the figures I used to see
It was all wrong, it shouldn't be happening, but she should know by now that that didn't change anything. What shouldn't happen, did, and you couldn't stop it, and screaming about it just made your voice hoarse.
And we all went to heaven in a little rowboat
There was nothing to fear, nothing to doubt
Maybe it was a balance for the way sometimes life handed you a gift.
... And then the tempo changed, and everything was the same but slightly different, as if you were looking at the same picture taken from a camera two feet to the left.
Jumped into the river
Rikku didn't believe in signs, any more than she believed in heaven or hell or Karal's Sunlord or any number of other things she could think of, but ... the Farplane had been real. A field of flowers and pyreflies and the most beautiful waterfall and if that was where Hamlet was, then he was okay.
All my lovers were there with me
All my pasts and futures
And we all went to heaven in a little rowboat
And she was here, without him, and without other people that should be here every bit as much. And that hurt.
Just because it hurt didn't mean it wouldn't be okay.
there was nothing to fear, nothing to doubt
there was nothing to fear, nothing to doubt
She sat for a long time after the song ended, letting the tears stream down her face and not apologizing for them. Not stopping them, or fighting them.
And then she sat and waited to see if more were coming, but there didn't seem to be. And that was all right, too.
"Okay," she said, to nobody in particular. "Denmark. I'll go this weekend. I'll put a rose on his grave and yell at him and cry and say good-bye. I can do this."
She took the silence as agreement, and nodded, scooping up the Judekitty. "C'mon," she said, kissing the top of his head and snuggling him as she stood up. "We've gotta pack."
(OOC: Not for interaction, but OOC is love.)