There Are No Lonely Nights [Set After Plottings With Permissions][Nanoha, Steve?]
Meditation could be relaxing, that much Miku had learned from her lessons with Cargn. However, paired with practice, Miku knew it could also be a royal pain in the bottom. Still, she dutifully sat in the city, Cargn-sensei free, and tried to "read" the building she was in, not far from the Jedi Temple.
Her palms pressed flat against the ground, she tried to push herself into it, trying to capture that same spooling feeling of falling out of her own body and into the building's memory. It was just as difficult as it had been the first time she tried it, especially so without Cargn's help or the Shrine's protection.
Eventually, she slid inside, and the building's past stretched before Miku in a long, shining path.
About this time, things began to go spectacularly wrong. The first of the memories washed over her, reversed, washed over her again, stronger, brighter, monochrome and scratched up. She couldn't understand what was being said or going on, each memory jumped and jerked like an old film gone wild at a cinema. It felt like something was trying to cram itself into her head instead of her spooling out like a ribbon.
Her chilly hands reached up to hold her head, as she fought to bring herself back into her body. As the last of her left the building, she could see nothing but white.
She didn't remember falling, but had the distinct impression that her cheek was pressed against the floor of the building. Her lips were bluish now, as expected, but she felt cold all over. She just wanted to sleep...
Just... sleep.
Her palms pressed flat against the ground, she tried to push herself into it, trying to capture that same spooling feeling of falling out of her own body and into the building's memory. It was just as difficult as it had been the first time she tried it, especially so without Cargn's help or the Shrine's protection.
Eventually, she slid inside, and the building's past stretched before Miku in a long, shining path.
About this time, things began to go spectacularly wrong. The first of the memories washed over her, reversed, washed over her again, stronger, brighter, monochrome and scratched up. She couldn't understand what was being said or going on, each memory jumped and jerked like an old film gone wild at a cinema. It felt like something was trying to cram itself into her head instead of her spooling out like a ribbon.
Her chilly hands reached up to hold her head, as she fought to bring herself back into her body. As the last of her left the building, she could see nothing but white.
She didn't remember falling, but had the distinct impression that her cheek was pressed against the floor of the building. Her lips were bluish now, as expected, but she felt cold all over. She just wanted to sleep...
Just... sleep.