towerofanimus

Entry tags:

[ou] lenalee lee

[001]

Characters: Lenalee and you.
Setting: Dormitories
Format: Prose but will match responses.
Summary: Lenalee woke to her nightmares made real.
Warnings: Dark imagery, introspection, and teal de deer.

Her dreams always starts out the same with the world in ruins. The towers are always chewed down to nubs like fractured bones jutting out of some mess of flesh. Devastation covers everything and she is always sitting in the middle of it. The dead are hidden but she knows they are there.

How different it was for the start of a nightmare to be waking up in a room, laying on her back and unable to move for nearly a minute. She finally pushed herself up and scanned the room with her eyes. This wasn't what she remembered last. No. There had been Allen saying good bye before he stepped through the Ark door and it shattered to pieces. She couldn't have passed out, could she? Or fainted.

Neither seemed likely as she slid off the bed and took stock of the entire room. Four beds, four trunks. Lights. All the things one might need if they were living there. But it wasn't in the usual style of rooms she was used to. And that's when she finds the letters. On a whim, Lenalee sits on the edge of the bed she woke up on to read them.

Your world has been destroyed. I saved you. Let's all be happy here.

And that's when the nightmare begins. It comes without fanfare or music, just a simple cold feeling that spreads through her heart like as it if were turning to ice. Everyone she knew and loved, gone. How fast had it come for them? Why was she the only one saved? Was she the only one? The need to know gnawed at her.

Her thoughts whirled in circles and she tucked the first letter into her coat while she walked to the door. But, she was still an Exorcist and the idea of trouble being right outside was nothing new. Lenalee leaned against the wall by the door and eased it open slowly, straining to hear anything that might be a sign of danger. General Tiedoll had said something in Japan that came back to her now.

Survive. Live to fight another day.

If there was another day to be had, she'd survive till it came. Because she'd return to her brother's side somehow. He couldn't be dead. Please, God. She hates you but don't take him from her.

With a quiet breath, Lenalee slipped out into the hallway and worried that all the pieces of her world were gone and her with them.

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Jade Harley, for all of her remarkable sleeping talents, was having problems falling asleep for a nap. It wasn't unusual -- the dreams here were different, vague snatches of ideas rather than a complete picture -- and Jade hated the time she spent lying awake, staring at the ceiling.

She stepped out of her room, letting the door close behind her with a soft thud. There was another girl there too -- Jade instinctively took a step back, reaching for a rifle in a sylladex that wasn't there. Instead, she shoved her hands behind her back.

"Um, hi..." her voice is louder now after a few weeks in the Tower but still a little shaky, the result of a few months spent in a desert alone. Still, she wasn't going to let this hesitation get the better of her. The other girl looked like she needed someone to talk to. "Are you okay?"

[Meanwhile, a whole floor away from her and thus far too close than intended, Allen's thoughts are thoroughly, intently, desperately among the woken. Those thirty seconds of sleep paralysis are some of the longest (but not the longest) he has ever endured in his sixteen years, and he spends every last one of them fighting silently to get back up. Up on his feet and go, for this is no time to be flat on his back, not when others have paid to let him keep moving forward. Rhode, who took the blow meant to end him. Link, who rose far above the call of duty to free him. Tyki, who turned back to face that monster alone for him. Lenalee, sent with the other Exorcists to retrieve him; and it strikes Allen now in a sharp little chill of worry that Central will not react too kindly if they discover she'd found him and... Let him go. Although she didn't say it, that's still what it felt like when she deactivated her Boots, both of them sinking to their knees with the indifferent glow of the Gate at his back. He'd left then, determined to keep walking his own path but come home to the people he loves at the end of it all, because he's meant to, he wants to, he is going to, so won't his body just stop betraying him already—

Exactly thirty seconds after opening his eyes, Allen Walker lurches out of bed with a shuddering gasp that whips its way through him to leave his lungs aflame, feeling strangely like he just fought his way free of water. Pale grey eyes take stock of their surroundings in the exhaustively efficient manner of an experienced fighter, then narrow under the weight of heavy misgivings. The collar is a literally and figuratively chafing presence, but not as foreboding as the lived-in feel of his quarters. Or the glaring absence of his captors. Or the fact that he can't feel the Ark at all, which can only mean a handful of things, none of them encouraging.

The first letter is quickly read (because it's only practical) and just as quickly tossed aside (because it proves to be a load of bollocks). As if the state of his left arm isn't enough proof, fatigue is working with his injuries to make him feel like one giant, dully throbbing bruise, each too-fresh twinge serving as a constant reminder that barely a moment could have gone by since he said goodbye, much less have the apocalypse over and done with in the blink of an eye. Something's afoot here, and though he's barely steady on his feet, Allen's set on outwalking it.

He's halfway to the door when an abrupt thump rattles the trunk at the foot of his bed. Caught in the relative open, eyes frozen wide in apprehension as the thumping gets increasingly more— Indignant— It's all he can do to dive for the meagre cover of a nightstand (why are the lights on, bugger his luck), but he hasn't quite made it when the lid bursts open, just seconds before he's beaned in the head by a deeply miffed ball of gold.]

—Timcanpy!

[...The stifled yelp comes out sort of nasally because, well. Tearing up from (more) pain tends to do that to a person.]

[ in a hasty whisper: ] Sorry, sorry, I didn't know you were inside. I swear I wouldn't have left you there—!

[He's met by a flare of gold wings and a disgruntled hiss, as if Timcanpy means to say, 'I know, but still.' There follows an almost comical pause, boy and golem eyeballing each other with nary a foot between them...

...Until Allen breaks into a quiet laugh first, a little wobbly at the end. He's been landed in yet another fix, one that — let's face it, boy — appears to be engineered in neither the Order nor the Earl's fashion, but at least Tim's here. He'll be alright. They'll all be alright.]

[Hauling himself on his feet again, he draws a deep, readying breath and eases the door open with a steady right hand, slipping into the corridor outside when it seems the coast is clear. Answers are waiting for him somewhere ahead, he just has to find them. The stairs give him pause, but he eventually decides to head downwards if only because it holds higher promise of an exit. Tim propelling him along between his shoulderblades, he starts limping his way down as quietly as he can with iron shackles on his ankles.]

Edited 2011-08-23 15:42 (UTC)

Lenalee took a step back when Jade stepped out into the hall. She hadn't expected there to be any people here. It jarred her out of her thoughts enough to instill a needed measure of calm over her. Despite that her foot had started to move into a defensive position where she could invoke the boots and block any attack. And she put it back where she'd had it before. "Hello." She starts, with a nervous but polite nod.

Was she okay?

No. Somehow she couldn't say she was. Not with the possibility her entire world was gone. "I just got here." She said instead and added. "Does this place have a registry of everyone brought here?"

[She makes her way for the stairs when she sees them. Up top she could get a better view of where she is. Maybe if there was a way up, fly down and see around. But Lenalee isn't stupid or a fool. When the sound of footsteps from above warn her of someone approaching, she ducks into the shadows.]

[The telling echo of every involuntary shuffle, amplified further by the stairwell, makes Allen wince. His left arm is somewhat more docile than before now that he's (hopefully) away from the Apocryphos, but everything below his elbow is still a misshapen mess. As he pads his way down the first flight of stairs, Allen reflects, rather mournfully, that he really ought to have taken a blanket with him. It could have served as a makeshift cloak to hide his arm and hair. Granted, it would make him look mighty suspicious, but at least he wouldn't be looking so distinctively himself. That's generally frowned upon when one is on the run—

The prickly feeling that he's not alone hits him a second too late, after he has already rounded the first bend and put... Not much, but definitely enough of himself in plain view on the landing. Immediately, he draws back, tamps down his presence, and flattens himself to the nearest cove of shadows — fat lot of help that's going to do you when you're pale all over — hoping against hope that he hasn't been spotted.]

Edited 2011-08-24 05:55 (UTC)

[She catches the sight of Allen. Or rather, enough of him to know exactly who she's seeing before he ducks out of sight. Lenalee swallows and steps out of the shadows, making sure she's plainly visible and clutches at the letter in her hand with a nearly white knuckled grip.]

Allen? Is that really you?

Lenalee?

[Allen wastes no time in stumbling his way around the bend again, so utterly flummoxed he simply has to see for himself. He just left her, she can't be here. But here she is, holding that very same letter he tossed aside. For a second, he simply stands there, regarding her collar with a fair bit of poorly-concealed dismay. They took her too? Then he's tackling those stairs as fast as he's able, Tim darting from his hiding place behind Allen's back to flutter in agitated circles above their heads.]

What happened? I was just talking to you— Are you alright?

[It is Allen. She darts up the stairs, taking them two at a time. The fact he left isn't what she focuses on. He's here and he's alive. If he lets her, she's going to hug him and breathe with relief.]

I'm so glad you're okay.

This letter said- [She cuts herself off to gather herself. Her voice comes out almost even and level if you miss the crack.] Have you seen anyone else?

[She's going to get that hug in with very little trouble. In fact, Allen's just going to stand there and let her for a good few seconds, thrown by her remark and how backward all of this seems after their last conversation. In his rush to keep walking onwards, the idea of slowing down to check whether he's okay or not hasn't quite occurred to him. But her arms are a warm counterpoint to the collar's stiff fit around his neck ― around their necks, he can feel the light chink of metal on metal when the hug brings them together; and maybe after everything he's been through the last week, the last month, the last year, the simple comfort of a hug is just what he needs. While it really could be under better circumstances― It doesn't take him much longer to return it with his right arm, a self-restrained squeeze about her shoulders as expected of the gentleman he still tries to be, but just as warm and wound a tad too tight in matching relief.]

I'm glad you're alright too. [ loosening his hold in favour of giving her back a few reassuring pats ] Never mind what the letter said, Lenalee. That's just what they told us, right?

[The idea that whoever did this could have taken more of them is a disturbing one, though.]

I haven't seen anyone except you, but maybe we should look.

[It does seem like a weird reverse situation of their last conversation. She hugs Allen tightly, relieved at least one of her friends is alright. She'd rather not think about the collar but, the faint scrape of metal on metal draws her focus to them. He has one too. The idea sets the hairs on the back of her neck rising.

There was nothing good about it.]

You're right. They have to be alright.

[Once he eases his grip, she relaxes hers as she bows her head in thought.] We probably should check the library it talked about in the other letter. We might be able to get something out.

[He takes a step back, hand falling to grip his left forearm again as he nods. This still feels like an elaborate set-up, but they might as well make use of the resources they have at their disposal.]

We'll keep an eye out for the others too.

[Personally, he's hoping they won't run into any familiar faces. Better for them to be safe back home, because home can't have been destroyed just like that.]

[ a deep breath, hoping the adrenaline rush will hold out -- and then, a little sheepishly: ] ...Which way?

[They had to survive until they could get out. To do that, they needed to use what was available. She nods at his words.]

We just have to believe they're alright until we find them.

[But she'd seen Chaoji and heard about Kanda. Still, hope was about believing in those people and she did her best to kindle hope in her heart.]

Ah, I think the letter said it was down on the lower floors. [On impulse, Lenalee reaches for his wrist to draw him down the stairs with her.]

[Tavros here was wandering the tower, again. It was normal for him to wander, to explore. Nothing interesting happens, of course. But still.

At least until someone suddenly stepped out into the hallway, then he stopped in his tracks.

...

Another human. This tower was just full of them. Might as well say hi though...]

...Hi.

[Allen nods right back, quick and firm like the smile spreading across his face despite how it tugs at the bandaid on his cheek.]

And we will.

[He blinks at her answer, then makes a weak attempt at levity.]

Looks like I somehow had the right idea, then. Let's go.

[Wrist caught (and if she adjusts her grip to hold his hand, he'll let her; it's less awkward that way), he follows her down the stairs, vaguely reminded of the time he'd held her hand and led her up the Ark's seemingly neverending flight of stairs. Timcanpy brings up the rear, keeping guard.]

[She’d seen the terminals in the halls but, the library had to have some background information on the place. Lenalee frowns with concern at the bandaid on Allen’s face and looks him over now they have better light. He looks like he desperately needs some food and some rest.]

When was the last time you ate? [Or slept. She shifts her grip to his hand and squeezes it reassuringly.]

Whatever we find, after that I can make you whatever you want to eat.

[Lenalee takes a step back when she sees Tavros, tensing up when she sees gray skin. Noah? Then the horns catch her attention. No. None of the Noah have... She straightens a little while rubbing at her collar.]

Hello. ...who are you?

[Tilting his head slightly. Did she....tense up or something?]

Oh, sorry... I'm Tavros. You are...?

"I don't think so....I'm not really sure. I got here a few weeks ago."

Jade noticed the defensive stance and took a step back as well, uncertain. She didn't have her rifle or her sylladex -- nothing that she could possibly use to defend herself with in case this person attacked. Still, they seemed friendly enough. She wanted to give them the benefit of the doubt.

"I'm Jade."

Not that long ago, really.

[Like his reciprocating squeeze of her hand, the answer is a gut reaction to reassure. He's a little surprised to find it true even as he says it. Barely an hour could have passed since he had those few bites of porridge in his holding cell, though with everything that has unfolded since then, it feels like far longer.

Without the buffering of his gloves, her palm prickles with warmth against his, and he has the most absurd urge to start darting furtive looks over his shoulder for any sign of Komui. It's a fleeting slice of normalcy which, along with Lenalee's offer, feels awfully out of place in the whole situation, especially when Allen knows with a rueful certainty that once ('if' doesn't cross his mind) they find a way out, he can't be sticking around long enough for her to make good on it.

Doesn't stop him from dipping his head briefly, messy bangs shielding his eyes. The breathy laugh he cuts loose in the next instant is quiet but unabated, a little raw, and so very grateful. The Order can label him all they like, but look― It hasn't changed what matters. He knew it wouldn't.]

―But I'd still like that a lot!

[He would, honest.]

Thank you, I'll even try to keep the list short.

[Voice dipping into a whisper as they reach the foot of the stairs, he dares a quick look through the doorway and is rewarded by rows upon rows of bookshelves standing like silent sentries before them.]

[ with some surprise at the sheer expanse of information: ] Ah, I think we've found it.

[He just wasn't expecting to find an entire floor dedicated to it. For what it's worth, this place at least appears to be deserted.]

"I was afraid of that." Lenalee said as she forced herself to relax further, trying to show she meant no harm. Her hand went to her coat sleeve, tugging on it in a way that communicated her attempts to soothe her turmoil. "Lenalee. ...has anyone with a silver cross like this on their coat showed up?" The other hand reached up to tap the metal object on the left side of her chest. "I'm sorry to be asking so many questions."

She shook her head slowly. The symbol was unfamiliar to her -- of course, the ones that she had seen lately were all video game symbols, arrows and ideas in cyberspace. The reality of things was still something she was getting used to.

"No, sorry...and it's okay. I didn't have anyone to ask when I got here."

[The normality is something she holds onto it. It was easier to move forward when some element of life was something you knew. Even if it isn't possible and it won't last. One day she could make good on it, when he returned home with that smile on his face. Older. Wiser. But still the same boy that walked away from everything for the sake of his life.

She ducks her head a little and laughs with him, it's raw like a wound and so tired that it's silent but, true none the less.]

You don't have to try keeping it short.

[She relaxes a little when they reach the library. How many floors had they gone down? The library of the order had been extensive too and she steps cautiously through the doorway, her ankle rings glowing with the readiness to invoke if they were needed.]

I think we have. ...Lavi would love this many books.

Edited 2011-08-28 19:25 (UTC)

[No, she didn't tense by sheer will.]

Lenalee. I'm sorry to be direct but what are you? I've never seen anyone like you.

Oh, sorry. Guess most humans don't know of us... I'm a troll. But it's nice to meet you, I guess.

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[001]

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1/2 for character limit orz

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i am sorry this is so late :(

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It's okay!

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