ⅰ - my baby and me, we're missing the same stuff [open]
Characters: Xion, whoever notices the sudden appearance of a clock tower in the middle of the Gardens?
Date: 12/30, early afternoon
Summary: Someone wandered a little too far, thinking she heard the sea. A lost girl found home in her memories. (translation: Xion makes a clock tower.)
Warnings: Besides emo and tl;dr? (I got a bit carried away, sorry.) Should be nothing, will be updated as needed.
To good to be true.
Xion found herself mouthing those words several times. It had been weeks, almost a month already. She'd marked the days on the journal she'd obtained, wishing on a star. She found herself reaching into the pocket of her coat often, fingering the other small things she'd gotten. The smooth metal surface of a golden key. The rough side of a box of matches. She took off one glove so she could feel them under her fingers while she wandered.
'Signs your friends are safe'--someone had said that once. She wasn't sure about that, but they were the only comforts she had at the moment. She'd tried leaving, but the corridors of darkness refused to lead anywhere she couldn't get by just walking. So she'd taken to exploring on foot, and by extension breaking in her new boots.
She was supposed to be gathering information, but she found her mind wandering again. Everything--the Organization, her friends, the conflict that must be brewing--felt so far away. The Garden was never quiet; it was always filled with birdsong, animal noises, or the sound of rushing water. Strange to a girl who'd lived most of her days in a stark, silent castle. Now with the snow melting, those sounds had returned, replacing the howling of wind from the days before. The chill was still in the air, though.
Xion stopped suddenly, looking around. She'd lost track of time; this wasn't a spot she was familiar with. She turned on her heel; nothing but unfamiliar trees and bushes in every direction. The ground sank slightly under her feet, and she glanced down.
Sand. Dotted by strangely colored grass, but sand nonetheless. Hadn't Yukari said something about sand, when she'd built that house? A lump formed in her throat as a familiar, faint sound reached her ears: the crashing of waves. The sea. Where was it coming from? She hesitated, then picked a direction, her pace quickening. There was an ocean here. She could smell it now, that familiar salt tang--
She pushed a tree branch out of the way, ducking as it snapped back suddenly. Another one clutched at the hood of her cloak, but she shook it off. Her boots sank ankle-deep into the sand as she pushed forward. The waves were getting louder. She was almost there, it had to be just over the next dune. Her breath was coming strangely short in her lungs, and her legs felt heavy. Taking a step was a struggle, and she gritted her teeth, slogging forward--until she chanced a look down. Knee-deep in sand, she lost her balance and fell backward, but instead of landing on her back, she just kept going. She gasped in surprise, but clamped her mouth shut as sand poured in around her neck and shoulders, filling her hood, sliding down between her coat and skin. She shuddered, panicking, grasping at thin air. Squeezed her eyes shut as she slid down into cold, damp darkness. What was happening? She'd need to breathe soon, she couldn't hold it forever, and the sand was pressing in on all sides, suffocating--
Xion must have blacked out, because the next thing she remembered was the odd sensation of her body being dragged slowly across the ground. Grass tickled her cheek. Dazed, she couldn't move at first, lying still as a whiskered nose snuffled at her face. Then it was gone, and the faint padding of paws faded into the usual sounds of birdsong and leaves rustling.
She shivered, the unpleasant sensation of wet sand in her clothes finally rousing her, and she began to cough, spitting some out onto the ground. It was everywhere; stuck to her face, in her sleeves, down her back, in her boots and pockets. She tried to get up, but her limbs refused to obey for the moment, and she lay there miserably, eyes shut tightly. At least the sun was warm, but the breeze carried that wintery chill, and she forced herself to sit up finally, to get her bearings.
Here she was, back in the Gardens. Alone, it seemed, no sign of the animal that had brought her here. She unzipped her cloak hastily, cringing a bit, shaking it to the pattering sound of sand raining onto the grass at her feet. She emptied a clump of it from her hood, then set about ridding the rest of her clothes of the stuff.
With both boots, gloves, and her sweater halfway off, she paused. Sand. Sand from the edges of the gardens, the "wild place". Recently buildings had been springing up, and they weren't the Queen's doing. Like Yukari's house, other people brought to the garden had made them...
Did that mean she could, too? But what?
Xion looked down at the scattered pile of sand thoughtfully, then dropped to her knees, her discomfort forgotten for the moment. What had she been told. Think, wish...If she could wish for anything right now, what would it be?
In her memory, the setting sun nearly blinded her. There was laughter all around; two smiling, black-cloaked figures to her right. An empty ice cream stick clutched between her fingers. The town below them, shadows long and stretching longer, the train rattling by on its elevated tracks. Above the bells tolled the hour, resonating within the three of them, so close to the sound. The bells, and the great hands of the clock ticking by, gears turning beneath their dangling feet. The bustle of the station far below, distant. She couldn't see; the light was fragmenting in her eyes, in her tears, into needles that pierced her painfully, reminders of loss.
When she opened her eyes again, it was dark. No...dim, the sun blocked out by walls, an echoing, empty space. She looked at her crumpled clothing on the smooth floor; the pile of sand was gone. No, the sand was gone, no longer itching her scalp, worming its way under her clothes. All of it, vanished. And around her the ghost of something she never thought she'd see again.
She gathered up her coat and boots, and stood. She pulled the cloak around her shoulders, bare feet padding softly over the polished floor, a path she'd traveled so many times she could walk it in her sleep. Stairs. Flight after flight, so lost in thought that she reached the top before she realized it, foot reaching for another step and only meeting air. She stumbled, sprawling, losing her grip on her footwear. Scrambling up, ignoring her smarting knees, she pushed the door open, closing her eyes and turning her face into the breeze. There was always a breeze, this high up.
Everything was the same. The place they sat every afternoon, on the ledge. She didn't trust her legs anymore; they were wobbling, so she sat down, folding her arms on it, vision blurring. She couldn't even bear to look at the view.
Burying her head in her arms, she finally let herself cry.
[ooc: Xion will be affected by a wildcard for a bit; she won't be able to talk. Most people will still see her with her hood covering her face, unless she's taken it off for them before. However, the curious can feel free to try and remove it. Otherwise, explore the clock tower! If you want to post an open thread for other people to join, feel free. Info is here.]
Date: 12/30, early afternoon
Summary: Someone wandered a little too far, thinking she heard the sea. A lost girl found home in her memories. (translation: Xion makes a clock tower.)
Warnings: Besides emo and tl;dr? (I got a bit carried away, sorry.) Should be nothing, will be updated as needed.
To good to be true.
Xion found herself mouthing those words several times. It had been weeks, almost a month already. She'd marked the days on the journal she'd obtained, wishing on a star. She found herself reaching into the pocket of her coat often, fingering the other small things she'd gotten. The smooth metal surface of a golden key. The rough side of a box of matches. She took off one glove so she could feel them under her fingers while she wandered.
'Signs your friends are safe'--someone had said that once. She wasn't sure about that, but they were the only comforts she had at the moment. She'd tried leaving, but the corridors of darkness refused to lead anywhere she couldn't get by just walking. So she'd taken to exploring on foot, and by extension breaking in her new boots.
She was supposed to be gathering information, but she found her mind wandering again. Everything--the Organization, her friends, the conflict that must be brewing--felt so far away. The Garden was never quiet; it was always filled with birdsong, animal noises, or the sound of rushing water. Strange to a girl who'd lived most of her days in a stark, silent castle. Now with the snow melting, those sounds had returned, replacing the howling of wind from the days before. The chill was still in the air, though.
Xion stopped suddenly, looking around. She'd lost track of time; this wasn't a spot she was familiar with. She turned on her heel; nothing but unfamiliar trees and bushes in every direction. The ground sank slightly under her feet, and she glanced down.
Sand. Dotted by strangely colored grass, but sand nonetheless. Hadn't Yukari said something about sand, when she'd built that house? A lump formed in her throat as a familiar, faint sound reached her ears: the crashing of waves. The sea. Where was it coming from? She hesitated, then picked a direction, her pace quickening. There was an ocean here. She could smell it now, that familiar salt tang--
She pushed a tree branch out of the way, ducking as it snapped back suddenly. Another one clutched at the hood of her cloak, but she shook it off. Her boots sank ankle-deep into the sand as she pushed forward. The waves were getting louder. She was almost there, it had to be just over the next dune. Her breath was coming strangely short in her lungs, and her legs felt heavy. Taking a step was a struggle, and she gritted her teeth, slogging forward--until she chanced a look down. Knee-deep in sand, she lost her balance and fell backward, but instead of landing on her back, she just kept going. She gasped in surprise, but clamped her mouth shut as sand poured in around her neck and shoulders, filling her hood, sliding down between her coat and skin. She shuddered, panicking, grasping at thin air. Squeezed her eyes shut as she slid down into cold, damp darkness. What was happening? She'd need to breathe soon, she couldn't hold it forever, and the sand was pressing in on all sides, suffocating--
Xion must have blacked out, because the next thing she remembered was the odd sensation of her body being dragged slowly across the ground. Grass tickled her cheek. Dazed, she couldn't move at first, lying still as a whiskered nose snuffled at her face. Then it was gone, and the faint padding of paws faded into the usual sounds of birdsong and leaves rustling.
She shivered, the unpleasant sensation of wet sand in her clothes finally rousing her, and she began to cough, spitting some out onto the ground. It was everywhere; stuck to her face, in her sleeves, down her back, in her boots and pockets. She tried to get up, but her limbs refused to obey for the moment, and she lay there miserably, eyes shut tightly. At least the sun was warm, but the breeze carried that wintery chill, and she forced herself to sit up finally, to get her bearings.
Here she was, back in the Gardens. Alone, it seemed, no sign of the animal that had brought her here. She unzipped her cloak hastily, cringing a bit, shaking it to the pattering sound of sand raining onto the grass at her feet. She emptied a clump of it from her hood, then set about ridding the rest of her clothes of the stuff.
With both boots, gloves, and her sweater halfway off, she paused. Sand. Sand from the edges of the gardens, the "wild place". Recently buildings had been springing up, and they weren't the Queen's doing. Like Yukari's house, other people brought to the garden had made them...
Did that mean she could, too? But what?
Xion looked down at the scattered pile of sand thoughtfully, then dropped to her knees, her discomfort forgotten for the moment. What had she been told. Think, wish...If she could wish for anything right now, what would it be?
In her memory, the setting sun nearly blinded her. There was laughter all around; two smiling, black-cloaked figures to her right. An empty ice cream stick clutched between her fingers. The town below them, shadows long and stretching longer, the train rattling by on its elevated tracks. Above the bells tolled the hour, resonating within the three of them, so close to the sound. The bells, and the great hands of the clock ticking by, gears turning beneath their dangling feet. The bustle of the station far below, distant. She couldn't see; the light was fragmenting in her eyes, in her tears, into needles that pierced her painfully, reminders of loss.
When she opened her eyes again, it was dark. No...dim, the sun blocked out by walls, an echoing, empty space. She looked at her crumpled clothing on the smooth floor; the pile of sand was gone. No, the sand was gone, no longer itching her scalp, worming its way under her clothes. All of it, vanished. And around her the ghost of something she never thought she'd see again.
She gathered up her coat and boots, and stood. She pulled the cloak around her shoulders, bare feet padding softly over the polished floor, a path she'd traveled so many times she could walk it in her sleep. Stairs. Flight after flight, so lost in thought that she reached the top before she realized it, foot reaching for another step and only meeting air. She stumbled, sprawling, losing her grip on her footwear. Scrambling up, ignoring her smarting knees, she pushed the door open, closing her eyes and turning her face into the breeze. There was always a breeze, this high up.
Everything was the same. The place they sat every afternoon, on the ledge. She didn't trust her legs anymore; they were wobbling, so she sat down, folding her arms on it, vision blurring. She couldn't even bear to look at the view.
Burying her head in her arms, she finally let herself cry.
[ooc: Xion will be affected by a wildcard for a bit; she won't be able to talk. Most people will still see her with her hood covering her face, unless she's taken it off for them before. However, the curious can feel free to try and remove it. Otherwise, explore the clock tower! If you want to post an open thread for other people to join, feel free. Info is here.]