Title: [LOG] getting to know.
Who: Valeria (
incisive) and Balthier (
leadshot)
Status: Active/Closed (IM us if you want in, and we can work you in if you'd like :3)
Style: Action, Present
Where: Kazesato
When: Week 2, Day 3; Noon-ish
Rating: PG - PG-13
Warnings: This is backlogged for leisure and CR. And there'll probably be cussing.
(
Balthier has arrived in another desert. )
Comments 6
(She knows it.)
The scent that hangs in the ever arid air, the smooth, ginger h'sssssssssss of countless grains of sand sifting beneath her feet; the mid-day sun beating strong against her back, and these, these rough structures wrought in the stone walls of a massive crater before her time -- she knows them. Knows the buildings that claim the crash site's interior, how level the cliff-tops and how to reach them. (No sooner than she remembers that does she forget it, but it doesn't change anything. Can't change the fact that --)
She knows this place.And it's more than its ( ... )
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But the leading man does not always require a thorough plan. A map, a direction, and quick thinking is all he requires. Balthier is a master improviser and the plan will follow in the plot of the stories that make up his life. After all, what good is a book that's predictable by the end?
The most recent plot-twist is this woman--Valeria. She is as sharp and precise as her weapon of choice, but frustrated and reminiscent of unfinished tasks. He can see it in the way she carries herself while trying to remember. He stands at a distance, letting her walk in old footsteps and forget the path she's once taken. It's not his place to step between her and her memories.
He is curious and risks her uncharted reaction to his interest. ]
So it was something before this, then?
[ He ( ... )
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[ Valeria steps forward as she speaks, peering wonderingly at the high crater walls behind him in the distance. They seem steeper than those to which she previously looked, but no less intent upon drawing her attention to the tiny details about them. (Hn.. no, nothing.) ]
-- only it went by a different name then.
[ It's unsettling, how the gears in her head grind and turn as she attempts to bring up and process these foreign memories. Her eyes shift downward and halt upon locking with Balthier's own, the realization that he had betrayed some interest dawning belatedly. For some reason or another, the corners of her lips twitch slightly upward as she shrugs (as though it doesn't matter, as though it doesn't bother her in the least that she can't recall, that she can, and does, remember this place and others to which she has never been). It bothers her, this issue with her memory, but that fact isn't the answer to his question. ]
I just can't remember what it was.
[ I just can't remember if I want to, ( ... )
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[ Balthier notices her uneasiness, yet doesn't change his nonchalant tone. He is not here to inquire about her emotions or her past. (None of them are here to ask about each others' past. As far as Balthier is concerned, the past of the people he meets doesn't matter. In that, there is a newness about this place. A person is able to start from complete scratch, should they choose to. Perhaps that is what Valeria is doing--re-making herself.) Whatever they're here for, he doesn't need to know about their motivations for why they are working together. Not now. He knows Valeria can handle herself and cover him during battle. He knows Valeria can handle direct orders and fulfill her duty. That is all he needs to know ( ... )
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It seems to her that the longer she is present in this world, the more 'memories' surface. ('Memories' of people she has never met. 'Memories' of places she has never been. 'Memories' of knowledge she has not obtained. 'Memories' of... actual experiences, experiences that she recalls as readily as though they had been her own. She feels them now -- mostly vaguely, but on occasion very intensely -- and all of them, all of these ( ... )
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