suits and illusions.

[skycrossing]

characters: skycrossing and blacksuited
location: Tierian Park
time: Sunday morning.
rating: G
open/closed: Closed

Comments

[blacksuited]

[ Cissnei had taken a somewhat shaky seat on a bench, her gloves off and lying next to her along with the odd journal and her now useless transmitter. She tried not to stare at her hands too much, instead concentrating on the idea that this just might be all a bad dream. ...okay, maybe not. She wasn't going to kid herself that this wasn't all too real, and if she needed proof, well, there were scratches on her hands from when she'd fallen next to the lake to get a closer look and they sure stung. It was real. The scars-- she clenched a fist and watched one go white against the skin of her knuckles-- might not be. Whatever the case was, Cissnei wasn't about to crumble.

Of course, there was still the matter of the mission, the helicopter, her friends... Zack... she knocked her fist against the bench, face tight. No, she wouldn't give up. They'd manage. They'd be all right. And in the meantime, she'd get herself into shape and then get back to them

[skycrossing]

[Lenalee is panting only lightly when her heels hit the grass, her hair swishing behind her wildly and threatening to come loose of the red ribbon--Allen's ribbon--it was tied in.]

Cissnei!

[She clutches her book tightly in her hand, eyes darting left and right, over the lake and upon the benches--there. That one had to be her, and the Exorcist rushes forward, stopping abruptly just a foot away, and looks her over. Scars...]

Cissnei?

[blacksuited]

Cissnei!

[ Aha, there she is-- Cissnei spots Lenalee with a wave of her hand and, although she'd never say so, with just that much relief. It's odd, feeling relieved-- because that meant she'd felt vulnerable in this foreign place-- and Turks were never vulnerable.

Cissnei blames the lack of sleep and the worry over her mission. That's it.]

Cissnei?

[ Cissnei bites her lip, feeling somewhat self-conscious- the scars must hardly be appealing- but offers a hand anyway. ]

Lenalee. Well met.

[skycrossing]

[Lenalee smiles assuringly, lifting her hand in response, but as her eyes catch sight of the cuts, she instead uses them to turn the Turk's hands over in order to inspect the wounds. To Lenalee, scars could bother her less, but the fresh scratches staining her palms red worried her more.]

Did you fall?