v ⊰video⊱

[c_zacatechichi]

[There is a look of absolute bliss on the woman's face. Her features soft, her brown eyes dark and liquid in a face turned golden by the sun. Those who know her, who she is and what she does, will know this look well. Perhaps it will strike a chord in others as well, those with addictions that consume their minds and wrack their veins

Comments

[alwaysricochets]

You look like you're having fun.

[Drugs are not something Rico has messed around with much herself; alcohol is all the mind altering she's needed, for the most part. But she's seen users plenty, pot-heads and junkies and worse, and she knows what it looks like. That's quite a bit what Fela looks like now. So while she's not judging, she is concerned. What the hell did she find in this place?

And worrying about that allows her to ignore Fela's questions, and the memories they bring.]

[c_zacatechichi]

[She has been one of the sonando's children all of her life, a gift to her from her father and though not all of his children followed that winding road after him, she was happy in his legacy. The snakes bring her what she needs.

And for Rico she has a languid smile, bemused by such a strange observation.]

Do I?

[alwaysricochets]

[Yup, that smile is the smile of one who is high as a kite. Rico doesn't mind, exactly, but she's worried about what kind of drugs come from a place like this. Fela might need someone to look after her. It's a role Rico has played before, when she wasn't too hammered herself.]

Yeah, you do. You're on something, right?

[c_zacatechichi]

Hm?

[She makes a soft, curious sound. Isn't entirely sure what she means by 'on something.' While she recognizes that the sonando is a drug, she does not use it for recreation.]

I am well...

[She leans against the mirror more heavily, drawing invisible little patterns against the glass with her fingertip.]

[existwithoutme]

[What an odd person this is. Kuja watches for a little while before she decides she is interested enough to respond.]

All my nightmares came to life before I arrived here.

I saw them in the waking world before I ever saw them while asleep, for I have never truly dreamed before now. [Because of the way she had been made, she had not been capable of it. Her so-called flaws.]

[c_zacatechichi]

[Her eyes go wide, fascination painted clearly on her face and she presses a bit closer to the mirror, as if she could merely slip through the glass, emerge onto the other side and examine the speaker more closely. But all the can do is listen, and her eyes tremble closed briefly.]

What a terrible sickness that would be...

[Her voice is full of mourning, sympathy.]

[existwithoutme]

It was no illness. I have never been ill. It was the way I was created. [Created as an adult, without emotions, as a doll, a tool--then blamed for that, when it had not been her choice or her doing.]

I could not dream until I freed myself, but I do not like the dreams that come to me now. [They are always the same, the fire and the darkness.]

[c_zacatechichi]

[This is incredibly sad to her.]

Trapped?

[She cannot imagine being trapped. It is a dreamchaser's spirit to be like smoke, ethereal and always drifting, impossible to catch hold of, impossible to tie down. They did not fare well in captivity.]

What dreams haunt you now?

[She asks that question rather lucidly, but carries on murmuring something to herself, but the mixture of languages and nonsense seems to confuse the vine and it does not offer a cohesive translation of it.]

[action]

[no_hometown]

Hello, Fela.

[Sephiroth understands the meaning of Fela's behavior very well. She strides forward and speaks matter-of-factly, if with a wry smile.]

Have you forgotten me?

[action]

[c_zacatechichi]

[She turns with a smile, does love to hear her own name, and the creature she turns to face brims with light and energy, winding trails of optic white and brilliant green. They knot and pulse among one another, creating both elegant designs and dark hidden places in their weaving.

Perhaps it would be more useful of her to answer the question set before her, but her mind is distracted, padding through the grass in bare feet to extend a hand out. There is something familiar there, in the paths her hands trace over the woman's figure and out into the air.

Fela touches her fingers to her own lips for a moment, can almost taste the acrid bite of poison.]

Have I...

[action]

[no_hometown]

[Sephiroth is patient with Fela's movements, standing still, watching calmly. Closeness and touch do not bother her. Her world was always full of them, in a way, as both a research subject and a SOLDIER.

She takes these two words, a question themselves, as an answer.]

You may take your memories back, if you like.

[action]

[c_zacatechichi]

[Her eyes light up. To her such an offer seems more than mere convenience. This woman trusts her enough to let her in to her mind, cares enough to offer her her memories back. Fela reaches up to touch her face gently, twining her fingers into long silver hair with a distracted fondness.

The faint sense of grogginess that crosses over Sephiroth's mind will be familiar to her, Fela does not warn her of it as she winds herself through the memories of herself--(apples, sliced thin in her hands. Sunlight, water, the wind and the grass)--]

Hello, Sephiroth. [Her touch turns a bit more thoughtful, slow and considering, as if she could read something important just out of the feeling of her skin.] Have you been troubled, mia soldado?

[video]

[persical]

[Claire isn't familiar with these signs of intoxication, but she can tell something is a little strange. She reaches out to touch the mirror almost unconsciously.]

Fela, yes...? You're very kind.

[video]

[c_zacatechichi]

[She places her hand gently over Claire's in the mirror, sealing in a place between the two of them. Fela wishes that it were not there, that there were a warm hand against her own, and she wonders what truly lies in that space between.]

Hello, darling. [Her expression is soft and dreamy, affectionate.] How do you fare?

[video]

[persical]

[she smiles a little at that, sadly.] I'm all right, thank you. Everyone's been a little shaken lately, though. Some reminders aren't necessary...if you understand what I mean.

[video]

[c_zacatechichi]

Insult to injury. [She agrees softly, her own sadness at all the pain that has ravaged their little paradise evident on her face.] But we will care for one another.

[esoteric_rose]

You can heal such wounds?

[Grell remembers how she shifted her bleak, repetitive vision into a world of colour and beauty, how it had helped. Though it is weak of her, it should be something she should deal with-the source of the injuries would tell her the same-she wants to ask if Fela can do the same again.]

I...I would owe you anything... [Weak, Sutcliffe, such a pathetic woman...yet she doesn't want to keep hearing the words in her head when she thinks of home. Was it stronger to conceal or to show?]

[c_zacatechichi]

You would owe me nothing.

[She promises this with a smile, one of her hands straying to the many beads around her neck and over her heart.]

It is my pleasure to serve for those who need me.

[In her own world, she would have asked for coin, because the sonando came at cost, because she needed to buy food and lodging, but she would never have denied someone unable to pay her. And here, in matters not at all, she is cared for and so she will care in return.]

[esoteric_rose]

[Grell half wants to protest, to insist that there is something she could do, and part of it comes from her guilt at even asking. But perhaps...it was okay to trust that this did not need to be repaid, at least this once.]

Then...please.

[c_zacatechichi]

Shall I come to you then, querida?

[She can find her way.]