Sheba | Child of the Gods (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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towerofanimus2013-08-13 11:34 am
seekinganswers) wrote in towerofanimus2013-08-13 11:34 am
event ♃ you've got these little things that you've been running from
Characters: Sheba and you!
Setting: One closed, backdated prompt; the others are all open, taking place at various locations in the Tower throughout the week.
Format: Action to start with, but I can easily switch to prose if you want. I'll follow what you do in your tag.
Summary: After the infiltration, Sheba meets up with someone she has an agreement with. Later on in the month, the shadow children break out and some of them start following her around...
Warnings: General angst, possible descriptions of a man being burnt alive in the mailroom prompt depending on how conversation goes, possible character death/suicide in the floor 34 prompt (though it can be avoided depending on how conversation goes), possible character death in Saturday's prompt.
[Wednesday, July 31 - closed to [ou] sephiroth]
[I'll contact you if something happens - well, she supposes this counts as something happening. She'd certainly want to know if he'd found something down in the depths, after all. The thirtieth had mostly been a day of resting and reflecting on what had happened down there, and though her sleep had been uneasy, she's up bright and early on the thirty-first. She doesn't know where exactly she'll find Sephiroth, after all.
He doesn't have a mailbox - or if he does, he doesn't check it - so Sheba knows it's going to take some legwork to find him. She hits up some of the more common floors first, idly scanning the minds of anyone she comes across. She doesn't dig deep. All she's looking for is a recent memory of seeing Sephiroth somewhere, so that she has an idea of where to go. Once she feels she has enough clues, she starts searching for him in earnest - after stopping in the library to take two books to sandwich her set of stolen ones. She doesn't know if it will help or not, but she'd like to not make it too obvious to whoever's watching that she's parading around with stolen goods.
It's later on that she finds him. Even with their agreement, she's not sure how he'll react to being interrupted, so she just clears her voice to get his attention before calling out.]
Sephiroth?
[Sunday, August 11 - all around the Tower]
[When she wakes that day, it's to find three shadow children standing around her bed. Sheba has the distinct feeling that they've been there a long time and it's a little unsettling, because she thought that monsters weren't supposed to enter the dorm rooms. Her first reaction is to let out a cry - sorry, roommates - and to blast them with lightning - even sorrier, roommates - but that doesn't help. When the lightning fades, the shadows are still there, staring at her.
They shift out of her way when she gets out of bed, and one pads a little closer to her when she starts rifling through her trunk for her clothes. It even goes so far as to reach in, suggesting an outfit - Sheba gives it a thoroughly weirded-out look, but takes the indicated clothing anyway. She starts to put it on before glancing at the other two visitors. To her surprise, they're looking away. Then she looks down at the one that had chosen her clothing, which isn't.]
How about a little privacy, huh?
[It shrugs, then scampers over to join the other two. She can't shake the feeling that she's seen this sort of behavior before, but she doesn't get the chance to think on it. The three shadows have disappeared by the time she's pulled her tunic over her head. She blinks. Well, that was... strange. She supposes this is the start of whatever Jason has in mind for them this month. As far as things go, it seems relatively tame.
She wonders how long that will last. But she can't dwell on that, either - if she sits here wondering she won't get anything done. She leaves her room and heads up the stairs to the first dormitory level to catch the elevator. She presses the button to call it and steps inside. As the doors are closing, a shadowy figure darts in after her, and she can't help but take a step back in surprise.
The shadow child stares back at her but doesn't speak. It leans back on its heels and smiles like it knows her innermost thoughts. It's a thoroughly unsettling thirty-minute ride, and Sheba is very glad when the doors open on the first floor and the shadow child scampers out the door and up the stairs.
The rest of the day continues in much the same manner. She's joined by three shadows at breakfast - one sitting right next to her, the other two across from her, in some sort of mockery of a family meal. They leave when she finishes her food and stands up to put the dishes away. Some parts of the day, she is alone. Others, she isn't. A shadow child follows her through the library but runs away when she pulls down a book and turns through its pages, like it's worried it's about to get some kind of a lesson. Another follows her up the stairs and to her job cleaning the pool, gesturing at the water like they should be relaxing in it rather than working. She ignores it to descend into the water, and when she resurfaces, it is gone. A third follows her a few paces behind as she goes about the day, though sometimes it darts forward like it should be the leader, before falling back as though suddenly remembering it's not in charge anymore.
And then there's the ones that just watch from a distance. They're there for her, she knows - she can feel it the same way she can feel their gazes on her. Walking among them is almost like walking among the people in a city. Not Tolbi - in Tolbi it would have been easier to vanish into a crowd. But Lalivero, certainly. She hasn't felt this many eyes on her since she was the Child of the Gods.
Sometimes other shadow children draw close again, and she has the distinct feeling that they're some of the ones she has encountered already, observing and judging as she goes about her usual routine in the Tower. As the day passes, her unease intensifies and is supplemented by a slight irritation. It's as though they're watching, waiting for something, but this day they do not swarm and they do not speak.
Sheba feels like she's waiting for the other shoe to drop, but there isn't much she can do about it.]
[Monday, August 12 - Floor Eleven]
[It's raining heavily, but Sheba doesn't mind. She doesn't mind the thunderstorm, either. She's right in her element here. And besides, she thinks as she pulls up the hood of her cloak, glancing briefly at the shadow child that has been on her heels since she stepped out of her dorm room in the morning, Maybe this thing doesn't like the rain.
No such luck. The shadowy figure follows her out onto the floor and looks directly at the lightning as it flashes, seems to revel in the crash of the thunder. Then it looks to her. Its gaze is still unsettling and she has a sudden flashback to the elevator the day before - the figure that had taken it down to the cafeteria with her. This is the same one. It's smiling like it can read her mind, only she knows it can't, because she's an Adept and she would be able to tell if it was. And right now she feels nothing except a vague annoyance at being followed around like this.
She makes her way to the lake and sits down at the water's edge to watch the lightning reflected in the water. There's something about thunderstorms that ease her mind. She stays there for most of the day, and is actually starting to feel quite a bit better when suddenly the shadow speaks -
"Sometimes I wonder why I gave up the Shaman's Rod for you. It's worth so much more than you are."
She starts, her heart pounding, and looks around. But the voice, though quiet, came from so near, and so the only one that could have spoken is the shadow at her side, smiling at her with those too-bright teeth.]
[Tuesday, August 13 - Floor Thirteen]
[This time, they start talking at the beginning of the day. There's three of them. Two were outside her room - one was at her bedside, impatiently pacing back and forth. Sheba wonders if it would have tried to wake her if she'd waited any longer to get up.
"You're the worst sister ever! Mama and Papa should have left you in the ruins where they found you."
It was a voice she hasn't heard in so long. The young boy who had been her brother, whose only thoughts when she'd been taken had been "Won't someone save my elder sister, Sheba?" even though they shared no bond of blood. She'd stared at him in horror and then run out of the room, only to find two more figures waiting.
"It's about time you showed your face. Or did you think you could stay away from us forever?"
"This is what we get for taking you in? Avoidance and then dooming us all?"
The voices were too much. She'd run for the elevator, hoping that she could get the doors closed before they followed her in, and had practically slapped the button. No good. They'd made it in just in time and she'd resorted to covering her ears and closing her eyes during the ride down. This time it had been her who'd bolted -
"Running away again, Sheba?"
"That's all she's good for, dear. Running away from her duty, her destiny."
"I wish my sister had been someone else! Anyone but you! This is all your fault!"
- and she hadn't stopped running until she'd arrived at the cathedral. Now she's here, curled up in one of the pews with her hands over her ears, reveling in the silence that this floor's terrible acoustics have brought her. The shadows haven't caught up just yet, but the sinking feeling in her stomach tells her it's only a matter of time.
Her collar is still violet - lighter than normal, but still closer to violet than it is to clear.]
[Wednesday, August 14 - Floor Thirty-four]
["Just jump."
There is a crowd of shadows around Sheba, too many for her to count, as distracted as she. The voices, to her, are not particularly notable - it's a sea of vaguely familiar sounds, almost like home, except home was never like this.
She stands at the end of the strip of land closest to the winding path, staring at her feet.
"Aren't you the Child of the Gods?"
"Show us your power."
"This shouldn't harm you..."
"...unless you were really lying all along."]
Stop it!
[The voices don't pay her any mind. They certainly don't stop.
"You lied to us."
"You were supposed to be our savior!"
"But you didn't do anything to stop this."
"You let us all die."
"Lalivero was destroyed because of you."
"You didn't even come home to die with us at the very end."
"Our blood is on your hands!"
"You should just die!"
"Who needs a savior who won't even come home when she has the chance to?"
"Did Babi even kidnap you? You went with him willingly, didn't you?"
"You're always letting yourself be someone else's pawn."
Their accusations echoing in her ears, Sheba takes one step forward, and then another. She's so tired. Maybe jumping would be the better option. Maybe...]
[Thursday, August 15 - Floor Seventy-eight]
[Having caught some of the more recent network posts - during one of the rare times when the words weren't warped beyond all recognition - Sheba is hesitant to check her mailbox. But she knows she can't run from it forever, and so far today has been mercifully free of shadows. Which is a relief, because she's so tired and she's not sure she could muster up the energy to outrun them. Not after the day before.
So she's here now, and her collar is almost dangerously light. Still faintly violet, but much closer to clear than to its original color. As soon as she opens her box she wishes she wasn't - wishes she was somewhere else, anywhere else. England's letter is the first thing she sees, but the fabric bundled up behind it is the first thing she smells, and she backs away with her hand over her nose, reeling.]
No--
[She wants to turn and run. Maybe it would be proving yesterday's shadows right, but she doesn't care. And so she turns, not bothering to close the door - and stops dead in her tracks.
There's a shadow just behind her, and she fears she knows who it is. For now, it is silent. But then, Felix was always a man of few words. She feels his stare, and it almost feels - accusatory. Questioning. She flinches away from him and turns back to the opened mailbox. As much as she wants to ignore this, she knows she can't. So she clears the distance and reaches in for the cloth, choking back a sob. She's not sure when she started crying.
When her fingers touch the material, she hears his voice.
"I suppose you're happy now. You've been trying to get me killed for awhile now, haven't you? I almost died for you on Venus Lighthouse. Now I'm dead, and all of Weyard with me."]
No, that's not-- Felix-- Please--
["It would have been better if I'd never met you at all. All you wanted was to go to Jupiter Lighthouse. Without a Jupiter Adept, maybe Isaac could have stopped me before we lit all the beacons."
She squeezes her eyes shut.]
Weyard was dying--
["Weyard and everyone on it is dead because of you. But I'm not surprised. You were always such a pain."]
Stop--
["If I had to take a Jupiter Adept along, it should have been anyone but you. You were always causing trouble and making me risk myself to pull you out of it. You think you understand me? You think you can share my pain?"
Sheba trembles, shakes her head, covers her face and tries to stop her tears.
"You don't understand anything. You don't even feel the weight of all the lives you stole when you condemned Weyard to destruction. I was willing to play the villain, Sheba. But you want everyone to see you as some kind of savior, and you're the furthest thing from it."
She can't take this. The burnt, ruined cloak still in her hands, she flees from the mailboxes but collapses on the stairs just outside. Felix's shadow follows her and she can feel his stare. She curls up in on herself, clutches the cloak to her chest, and closes her eyes to block him out. It doesn't work.]
[Friday, August 16 - Floor Sixty-two, morning; floor sixty-four, evening]
[That morning, her eyes are bloodshot and her collar is lighter than it had been the day before. She hopes desperately when she wakes and sees no shadows in her room that maybe the day before had been the worst of it, but when she steps out into the halls she knows that won't be the case. Across from her room is another shadow, the way he holds himself too reminiscent of Piers for her to not recognize him.]
Good morning...
[She's too exhausted to fight him. She simply turns and heads down the hall, trudges up the stairs, and takes the elevator to the sixty-first floor. One more flight of stairs and she's at the beach. She looks over her shoulder. Of course, the shadow of Piers followed her the whole way. Before he can say anything, she speaks again.]
I know what you're going to say. I know it.
["Of course you do. That's the one thing you were good for on our journey, wasn't it? Knowing the things people wish to say but haven't yet said."
Sheba sighs and removes her boots, tossing them back before wading into the shallows. The shadow follows her.]
Someone had to do it...
["You learned so much about strangers." A pause. "And yet you know so little of the people you claim to care for."]
Piers, I--
["Don't speak." Sheba is too tired to protest; she kneels down in the shallows and lets the seawater wash over her legs. "You know more of the Tower than you do of Weyard."]
I know barely anything of the Tower.
["Yes," the shadow sounds amused, "And that is what makes it so very sad, don't you agree?"
---
Piers' shadow leaves her at sundown. She has about an hour of blissful relief, until she finds herself on the desert floor, and steps out into the sands. A voice comes from behind her - Jenna's, and she hopes desperately that it belongs to the Jenna that just arrived in the Tower, but it's not.
"Brings back memories, doesn't it? Not that you care."
Sheba's face falls.]
Jenna...
["No, don't. I understand. It's awful to be alone, isn't it?" The shadow steps forward and wraps Sheba in an embrace. "So awful you'd abandon the people who never abandoned you, just because you felt you were alone. How could you leave me, Sheba? How could you leave any of us?"
Tears well in Sheba's eyes and she tries to return the hug, but her hands pass right through the shadow, and she realizes that it's not holding her. Not really.
"We protected you from Saturos and Menardi. We let you come with us when you didn't want to be left behind. And now Weyard is nothing but a wasteland, and you've left us to make new friends... to replace us with people who look like us but aren't us. How can you do it? How can you smile at them and spend time with them so easily? You've already forgotten us!"]
I never forgot...
["No, you did. You didn't recognize that my brother who was here before wasn't really my brother, did you? That he wasn't the one who did so much for you? But you clung to him anyway. And now you're clinging to a me that isn't really me. I guess we were just replaceable. Just a means to an end. All you cared about was your destiny."
Sheba tries to pull away from the shadow, but it moves with her, keeps its inky-black arms around her.
"You were my best friend, Sheba. And you left me all alone. It hurts so much and it's all your fault. I was going to be able to hold Mom and Dad again. Felix was going to be home with us, the way it should have been. And you ruined it. You ruined it!"
She can't escape the shadow, but she can't stop crying, either. Part of her longs to die then and there, just so she won't have to hear Jenna's voice any longer.]
[Saturday, August 17 - Floor Sixty-nine]
[Her collar is so close to clear. When the glamour flickers and fails, it's easy to see that it's not just her collar - her soul is a faintly pulsing violet, the color radiating - not much, but enough - into the immediate area around her chest and torso. When the glamour is on, her fluid is mostly clear with a few streaks of violet.
She can barely move, and it's not because of this floors effects. She's still on the stairs, surrounded by shadows - as she had been all day. It started with just three. Just Felix, and Jenna, and Piers. They'd urged her out of her room, whispering vile things all the while. Isaac, Garet, Ivan, and Mia had joined them later. And then Faran, his wife, and her adoptive brother - and the closer they got to the sixty-ninth floor, the more shadows there were. Laliverans. Suhallans who had believed in her. The servants that had taken care of her in Tolbi.
Their words mix together. Sheba just wants peace. She wants it all to stop. She clings to the stairway's railing, looks out at the clouds.
"That's right," Piers murmurs. "You came from the sky, did you not? Of course you would want to return."
"You could join us," Jenna sounds excited, her arm linked through Sheba's but not really touching her. "You could die too. You should have died with the rest of us. This is a place you can do that, isn't it?"
"But you shouldn't come back." Felix's voice, strong and steady. "You should stay dead. It's what you deserve, after condemning us all."]
What I deserve...
[After everything from this week, Sheba feels like it's true. She pushes herself away from the railing and uses the little strength she does have to walk out onto the clouds, and once a few feet away from the stairs, she lies down and curls up.
The shadows file out after her. Jenna, kneeling nearby and stroking her hair, whispering how it's all her fault Weyard is dead and how she left her friends all alone. Felix at Jenna's side, nodding and muttering his agreement. Piers on Sheba's other side, his shadowy hands over and under her limp one, speaking in undertones about how it was her people who had nearly doomed Weyard so many years ago, and how instead of facing their actions they'd vanished into the skies, and how he was sure they would be proud she was living up to their ancient legacy.
There's Isaac, cloistered nearby with Garet and Ivan and Mia. He mentions how he should have never left the world in someone else's hands, that he shouldn't have let Sheba convince him. Garet, his temper getting the better of him, screaming about all the things they could have done that now they'll never be able to do. Ivan, weighing Sheba against Hama and Hammet and Layana and everyone else he cares for, wondering how Sheba could think so highly of herself as to think her life was worth even a fraction of theirs. And Mia, her tone of voice sympathetic and pitying as she details all the ways Sheba was wrong for the world, and how she feels so sorry that Sheba ever thought she could do good.
And the townspeople from Lalivero and Suhalla and Tolbi. They're cluttered around her, too. There are so many shadows that they obscure the nearly unconscious girl, the almost-clear liquid in her wireframe barely visible when the glamour is out, the purple of her cloak and the gold of her hair barely visible when it's not. But it's possible to catch glimpses of her from the staircase as the shadows shift and push their way forward, ever closer as they continue their accusations and hand out the blame.]
Setting: One closed, backdated prompt; the others are all open, taking place at various locations in the Tower throughout the week.
Format: Action to start with, but I can easily switch to prose if you want. I'll follow what you do in your tag.
Summary: After the infiltration, Sheba meets up with someone she has an agreement with. Later on in the month, the shadow children break out and some of them start following her around...
Warnings: General angst, possible descriptions of a man being burnt alive in the mailroom prompt depending on how conversation goes, possible character death/suicide in the floor 34 prompt (though it can be avoided depending on how conversation goes), possible character death in Saturday's prompt.
[Wednesday, July 31 - closed to [ou] sephiroth]
[I'll contact you if something happens - well, she supposes this counts as something happening. She'd certainly want to know if he'd found something down in the depths, after all. The thirtieth had mostly been a day of resting and reflecting on what had happened down there, and though her sleep had been uneasy, she's up bright and early on the thirty-first. She doesn't know where exactly she'll find Sephiroth, after all.
He doesn't have a mailbox - or if he does, he doesn't check it - so Sheba knows it's going to take some legwork to find him. She hits up some of the more common floors first, idly scanning the minds of anyone she comes across. She doesn't dig deep. All she's looking for is a recent memory of seeing Sephiroth somewhere, so that she has an idea of where to go. Once she feels she has enough clues, she starts searching for him in earnest - after stopping in the library to take two books to sandwich her set of stolen ones. She doesn't know if it will help or not, but she'd like to not make it too obvious to whoever's watching that she's parading around with stolen goods.
It's later on that she finds him. Even with their agreement, she's not sure how he'll react to being interrupted, so she just clears her voice to get his attention before calling out.]
Sephiroth?
[Sunday, August 11 - all around the Tower]
[When she wakes that day, it's to find three shadow children standing around her bed. Sheba has the distinct feeling that they've been there a long time and it's a little unsettling, because she thought that monsters weren't supposed to enter the dorm rooms. Her first reaction is to let out a cry - sorry, roommates - and to blast them with lightning - even sorrier, roommates - but that doesn't help. When the lightning fades, the shadows are still there, staring at her.
They shift out of her way when she gets out of bed, and one pads a little closer to her when she starts rifling through her trunk for her clothes. It even goes so far as to reach in, suggesting an outfit - Sheba gives it a thoroughly weirded-out look, but takes the indicated clothing anyway. She starts to put it on before glancing at the other two visitors. To her surprise, they're looking away. Then she looks down at the one that had chosen her clothing, which isn't.]
How about a little privacy, huh?
[It shrugs, then scampers over to join the other two. She can't shake the feeling that she's seen this sort of behavior before, but she doesn't get the chance to think on it. The three shadows have disappeared by the time she's pulled her tunic over her head. She blinks. Well, that was... strange. She supposes this is the start of whatever Jason has in mind for them this month. As far as things go, it seems relatively tame.
She wonders how long that will last. But she can't dwell on that, either - if she sits here wondering she won't get anything done. She leaves her room and heads up the stairs to the first dormitory level to catch the elevator. She presses the button to call it and steps inside. As the doors are closing, a shadowy figure darts in after her, and she can't help but take a step back in surprise.
The shadow child stares back at her but doesn't speak. It leans back on its heels and smiles like it knows her innermost thoughts. It's a thoroughly unsettling thirty-minute ride, and Sheba is very glad when the doors open on the first floor and the shadow child scampers out the door and up the stairs.
The rest of the day continues in much the same manner. She's joined by three shadows at breakfast - one sitting right next to her, the other two across from her, in some sort of mockery of a family meal. They leave when she finishes her food and stands up to put the dishes away. Some parts of the day, she is alone. Others, she isn't. A shadow child follows her through the library but runs away when she pulls down a book and turns through its pages, like it's worried it's about to get some kind of a lesson. Another follows her up the stairs and to her job cleaning the pool, gesturing at the water like they should be relaxing in it rather than working. She ignores it to descend into the water, and when she resurfaces, it is gone. A third follows her a few paces behind as she goes about the day, though sometimes it darts forward like it should be the leader, before falling back as though suddenly remembering it's not in charge anymore.
And then there's the ones that just watch from a distance. They're there for her, she knows - she can feel it the same way she can feel their gazes on her. Walking among them is almost like walking among the people in a city. Not Tolbi - in Tolbi it would have been easier to vanish into a crowd. But Lalivero, certainly. She hasn't felt this many eyes on her since she was the Child of the Gods.
Sometimes other shadow children draw close again, and she has the distinct feeling that they're some of the ones she has encountered already, observing and judging as she goes about her usual routine in the Tower. As the day passes, her unease intensifies and is supplemented by a slight irritation. It's as though they're watching, waiting for something, but this day they do not swarm and they do not speak.
Sheba feels like she's waiting for the other shoe to drop, but there isn't much she can do about it.]
[Monday, August 12 - Floor Eleven]
[It's raining heavily, but Sheba doesn't mind. She doesn't mind the thunderstorm, either. She's right in her element here. And besides, she thinks as she pulls up the hood of her cloak, glancing briefly at the shadow child that has been on her heels since she stepped out of her dorm room in the morning, Maybe this thing doesn't like the rain.
No such luck. The shadowy figure follows her out onto the floor and looks directly at the lightning as it flashes, seems to revel in the crash of the thunder. Then it looks to her. Its gaze is still unsettling and she has a sudden flashback to the elevator the day before - the figure that had taken it down to the cafeteria with her. This is the same one. It's smiling like it can read her mind, only she knows it can't, because she's an Adept and she would be able to tell if it was. And right now she feels nothing except a vague annoyance at being followed around like this.
She makes her way to the lake and sits down at the water's edge to watch the lightning reflected in the water. There's something about thunderstorms that ease her mind. She stays there for most of the day, and is actually starting to feel quite a bit better when suddenly the shadow speaks -
"Sometimes I wonder why I gave up the Shaman's Rod for you. It's worth so much more than you are."
She starts, her heart pounding, and looks around. But the voice, though quiet, came from so near, and so the only one that could have spoken is the shadow at her side, smiling at her with those too-bright teeth.]
[Tuesday, August 13 - Floor Thirteen]
[This time, they start talking at the beginning of the day. There's three of them. Two were outside her room - one was at her bedside, impatiently pacing back and forth. Sheba wonders if it would have tried to wake her if she'd waited any longer to get up.
"You're the worst sister ever! Mama and Papa should have left you in the ruins where they found you."
It was a voice she hasn't heard in so long. The young boy who had been her brother, whose only thoughts when she'd been taken had been "Won't someone save my elder sister, Sheba?" even though they shared no bond of blood. She'd stared at him in horror and then run out of the room, only to find two more figures waiting.
"It's about time you showed your face. Or did you think you could stay away from us forever?"
"This is what we get for taking you in? Avoidance and then dooming us all?"
The voices were too much. She'd run for the elevator, hoping that she could get the doors closed before they followed her in, and had practically slapped the button. No good. They'd made it in just in time and she'd resorted to covering her ears and closing her eyes during the ride down. This time it had been her who'd bolted -
"Running away again, Sheba?"
"That's all she's good for, dear. Running away from her duty, her destiny."
"I wish my sister had been someone else! Anyone but you! This is all your fault!"
- and she hadn't stopped running until she'd arrived at the cathedral. Now she's here, curled up in one of the pews with her hands over her ears, reveling in the silence that this floor's terrible acoustics have brought her. The shadows haven't caught up just yet, but the sinking feeling in her stomach tells her it's only a matter of time.
Her collar is still violet - lighter than normal, but still closer to violet than it is to clear.]
[Wednesday, August 14 - Floor Thirty-four]
["Just jump."
There is a crowd of shadows around Sheba, too many for her to count, as distracted as she. The voices, to her, are not particularly notable - it's a sea of vaguely familiar sounds, almost like home, except home was never like this.
She stands at the end of the strip of land closest to the winding path, staring at her feet.
"Aren't you the Child of the Gods?"
"Show us your power."
"This shouldn't harm you..."
"...unless you were really lying all along."]
Stop it!
[The voices don't pay her any mind. They certainly don't stop.
"You lied to us."
"You were supposed to be our savior!"
"But you didn't do anything to stop this."
"You let us all die."
"Lalivero was destroyed because of you."
"You didn't even come home to die with us at the very end."
"Our blood is on your hands!"
"You should just die!"
"Who needs a savior who won't even come home when she has the chance to?"
"Did Babi even kidnap you? You went with him willingly, didn't you?"
"You're always letting yourself be someone else's pawn."
Their accusations echoing in her ears, Sheba takes one step forward, and then another. She's so tired. Maybe jumping would be the better option. Maybe...]
[Thursday, August 15 - Floor Seventy-eight]
[Having caught some of the more recent network posts - during one of the rare times when the words weren't warped beyond all recognition - Sheba is hesitant to check her mailbox. But she knows she can't run from it forever, and so far today has been mercifully free of shadows. Which is a relief, because she's so tired and she's not sure she could muster up the energy to outrun them. Not after the day before.
So she's here now, and her collar is almost dangerously light. Still faintly violet, but much closer to clear than to its original color. As soon as she opens her box she wishes she wasn't - wishes she was somewhere else, anywhere else. England's letter is the first thing she sees, but the fabric bundled up behind it is the first thing she smells, and she backs away with her hand over her nose, reeling.]
No--
[She wants to turn and run. Maybe it would be proving yesterday's shadows right, but she doesn't care. And so she turns, not bothering to close the door - and stops dead in her tracks.
There's a shadow just behind her, and she fears she knows who it is. For now, it is silent. But then, Felix was always a man of few words. She feels his stare, and it almost feels - accusatory. Questioning. She flinches away from him and turns back to the opened mailbox. As much as she wants to ignore this, she knows she can't. So she clears the distance and reaches in for the cloth, choking back a sob. She's not sure when she started crying.
When her fingers touch the material, she hears his voice.
"I suppose you're happy now. You've been trying to get me killed for awhile now, haven't you? I almost died for you on Venus Lighthouse. Now I'm dead, and all of Weyard with me."]
No, that's not-- Felix-- Please--
["It would have been better if I'd never met you at all. All you wanted was to go to Jupiter Lighthouse. Without a Jupiter Adept, maybe Isaac could have stopped me before we lit all the beacons."
She squeezes her eyes shut.]
Weyard was dying--
["Weyard and everyone on it is dead because of you. But I'm not surprised. You were always such a pain."]
Stop--
["If I had to take a Jupiter Adept along, it should have been anyone but you. You were always causing trouble and making me risk myself to pull you out of it. You think you understand me? You think you can share my pain?"
Sheba trembles, shakes her head, covers her face and tries to stop her tears.
"You don't understand anything. You don't even feel the weight of all the lives you stole when you condemned Weyard to destruction. I was willing to play the villain, Sheba. But you want everyone to see you as some kind of savior, and you're the furthest thing from it."
She can't take this. The burnt, ruined cloak still in her hands, she flees from the mailboxes but collapses on the stairs just outside. Felix's shadow follows her and she can feel his stare. She curls up in on herself, clutches the cloak to her chest, and closes her eyes to block him out. It doesn't work.]
[Friday, August 16 - Floor Sixty-two, morning; floor sixty-four, evening]
[That morning, her eyes are bloodshot and her collar is lighter than it had been the day before. She hopes desperately when she wakes and sees no shadows in her room that maybe the day before had been the worst of it, but when she steps out into the halls she knows that won't be the case. Across from her room is another shadow, the way he holds himself too reminiscent of Piers for her to not recognize him.]
Good morning...
[She's too exhausted to fight him. She simply turns and heads down the hall, trudges up the stairs, and takes the elevator to the sixty-first floor. One more flight of stairs and she's at the beach. She looks over her shoulder. Of course, the shadow of Piers followed her the whole way. Before he can say anything, she speaks again.]
I know what you're going to say. I know it.
["Of course you do. That's the one thing you were good for on our journey, wasn't it? Knowing the things people wish to say but haven't yet said."
Sheba sighs and removes her boots, tossing them back before wading into the shallows. The shadow follows her.]
Someone had to do it...
["You learned so much about strangers." A pause. "And yet you know so little of the people you claim to care for."]
Piers, I--
["Don't speak." Sheba is too tired to protest; she kneels down in the shallows and lets the seawater wash over her legs. "You know more of the Tower than you do of Weyard."]
I know barely anything of the Tower.
["Yes," the shadow sounds amused, "And that is what makes it so very sad, don't you agree?"
---
Piers' shadow leaves her at sundown. She has about an hour of blissful relief, until she finds herself on the desert floor, and steps out into the sands. A voice comes from behind her - Jenna's, and she hopes desperately that it belongs to the Jenna that just arrived in the Tower, but it's not.
"Brings back memories, doesn't it? Not that you care."
Sheba's face falls.]
Jenna...
["No, don't. I understand. It's awful to be alone, isn't it?" The shadow steps forward and wraps Sheba in an embrace. "So awful you'd abandon the people who never abandoned you, just because you felt you were alone. How could you leave me, Sheba? How could you leave any of us?"
Tears well in Sheba's eyes and she tries to return the hug, but her hands pass right through the shadow, and she realizes that it's not holding her. Not really.
"We protected you from Saturos and Menardi. We let you come with us when you didn't want to be left behind. And now Weyard is nothing but a wasteland, and you've left us to make new friends... to replace us with people who look like us but aren't us. How can you do it? How can you smile at them and spend time with them so easily? You've already forgotten us!"]
I never forgot...
["No, you did. You didn't recognize that my brother who was here before wasn't really my brother, did you? That he wasn't the one who did so much for you? But you clung to him anyway. And now you're clinging to a me that isn't really me. I guess we were just replaceable. Just a means to an end. All you cared about was your destiny."
Sheba tries to pull away from the shadow, but it moves with her, keeps its inky-black arms around her.
"You were my best friend, Sheba. And you left me all alone. It hurts so much and it's all your fault. I was going to be able to hold Mom and Dad again. Felix was going to be home with us, the way it should have been. And you ruined it. You ruined it!"
She can't escape the shadow, but she can't stop crying, either. Part of her longs to die then and there, just so she won't have to hear Jenna's voice any longer.]
[Saturday, August 17 - Floor Sixty-nine]
[Her collar is so close to clear. When the glamour flickers and fails, it's easy to see that it's not just her collar - her soul is a faintly pulsing violet, the color radiating - not much, but enough - into the immediate area around her chest and torso. When the glamour is on, her fluid is mostly clear with a few streaks of violet.
She can barely move, and it's not because of this floors effects. She's still on the stairs, surrounded by shadows - as she had been all day. It started with just three. Just Felix, and Jenna, and Piers. They'd urged her out of her room, whispering vile things all the while. Isaac, Garet, Ivan, and Mia had joined them later. And then Faran, his wife, and her adoptive brother - and the closer they got to the sixty-ninth floor, the more shadows there were. Laliverans. Suhallans who had believed in her. The servants that had taken care of her in Tolbi.
Their words mix together. Sheba just wants peace. She wants it all to stop. She clings to the stairway's railing, looks out at the clouds.
"That's right," Piers murmurs. "You came from the sky, did you not? Of course you would want to return."
"You could join us," Jenna sounds excited, her arm linked through Sheba's but not really touching her. "You could die too. You should have died with the rest of us. This is a place you can do that, isn't it?"
"But you shouldn't come back." Felix's voice, strong and steady. "You should stay dead. It's what you deserve, after condemning us all."]
What I deserve...
[After everything from this week, Sheba feels like it's true. She pushes herself away from the railing and uses the little strength she does have to walk out onto the clouds, and once a few feet away from the stairs, she lies down and curls up.
The shadows file out after her. Jenna, kneeling nearby and stroking her hair, whispering how it's all her fault Weyard is dead and how she left her friends all alone. Felix at Jenna's side, nodding and muttering his agreement. Piers on Sheba's other side, his shadowy hands over and under her limp one, speaking in undertones about how it was her people who had nearly doomed Weyard so many years ago, and how instead of facing their actions they'd vanished into the skies, and how he was sure they would be proud she was living up to their ancient legacy.
There's Isaac, cloistered nearby with Garet and Ivan and Mia. He mentions how he should have never left the world in someone else's hands, that he shouldn't have let Sheba convince him. Garet, his temper getting the better of him, screaming about all the things they could have done that now they'll never be able to do. Ivan, weighing Sheba against Hama and Hammet and Layana and everyone else he cares for, wondering how Sheba could think so highly of herself as to think her life was worth even a fraction of theirs. And Mia, her tone of voice sympathetic and pitying as she details all the ways Sheba was wrong for the world, and how she feels so sorry that Sheba ever thought she could do good.
And the townspeople from Lalivero and Suhalla and Tolbi. They're cluttered around her, too. There are so many shadows that they obscure the nearly unconscious girl, the almost-clear liquid in her wireframe barely visible when the glamour is out, the purple of her cloak and the gold of her hair barely visible when it's not. But it's possible to catch glimpses of her from the staircase as the shadows shift and push their way forward, ever closer as they continue their accusations and hand out the blame.]
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So is passing out when I'm talking to you, so let's call it even.
[His shadows hover around the edges of the floor - he's not sure which of them is which at the moment and doesn't care. They're quiet enough for now, at least. ]
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[She doesn't seem to have much of a reaction to the squeezing - it's like she doesn't feel it, or perhaps she just doesn't care. Either one is a likely option at this point. She does manage to force her eyes open, though; they're sort of glazed over and unfocused.]
...Asch...? This is... just... an experiment... right?
[Unspoken - If I die, I won't die for real, will I? It had been one thing to consider it before she was this far gone. But now that she's here, she finds she desperately wants to live.
More quietly -]
...I'm scared...
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[He really doesn't. It makes him scared, too - he's seen some other in bad straits this week, but none as bad as this. He tries to keep the worry out of his voice.]
It seems like these things were living in the administrator levels, and that explosion let them loose. But since we still don't know the culprit...
[It might have been Jason, blaming the residents to sow disorder while he sat back on the sidelines to gather data. But it might not have been, too.]
That's why you have to stay.
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["He" being "Jason." Sheba hopes Asch can understand from the context, because she lacks the energy to explain. It seems obvious enough to her, anyway. There's not really any other "he" it could possibly be.
She closes her eyes again and takes a deep, steady breath. A shadow slips in through the lounge's entrance, creeping alongside one of the walls.]
...what if I can't...?
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Just try. There's only shame in not trying at all.
[Only in being helpless of your own volition - and given that she can barely move and probably can't cast either, it's fine. He'll watch for both of them, back against the window - his eyes follow the one shadow for a moment before dismissing it for the time being.]
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[How long will this last. If this is Jason's doing, there's no telling when it will end. Sometimes the administrators toyed with them the entire month, like Ruana had with the monsters - and this month is only a little more than half over.
She's not sure she can hold on for that long. She's just not.
A second shadow slips through the entrance - this one hugs the opposite wall as it makes its way around the room. The first one creeps closer, still along the wall, but its head is turned towards Asch and Sheba - one could tell from the glinting teeth pointed their way.]
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[It's a morbid thought, but he's sure that Jason will step in to protect his favorite subjects eventually - and that's assuming Ruana doesn't grow angry at the misuse of her toys.
Asch is confident in his own ability to survive, but Sheba's, not as much.
His gaze lands on the shadow creeping closer to them.]
They're damned stubborn little things.
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[She says that, but she doesn't want to die, not really. Not when this kind of death feels different from the others that have come before. At least then, her collar had always been as it was meant to - a brilliant violet, not this translucent gunk with a muted hint of purple. It's unfamiliar and it frightens her, and that's something she's willing to admit.
Her fingers twitch again - like she's trying to hold onto something, but she just doesn't have the strength to do so.
When Asch's gaze wanders, she can't move her head, so she does her best to follow it with her eyes. She sees the shadow steadily making its way to them and sighs. It's a touch fond and a touch exasperated.]
That's probably Jenna...
[At the sound of the name, the shadow's pace quickens; it's abandoned the wall and is now heading straight for them. The second shadow sticks to the wall; a third shadow slips in through the entrance and follows the first shadow's original path along the wall.]
...she was always more stubborn than me...
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[It's callous, yes, but Asch values very few people, and he can and will take a stranger's life for Sheba's a thousand times, even if the girl herself disapproves of it.
As the shadow approaches, his eyes narrow, and he pulls Sheba up against his chest defensively.]
If they think they can out-stubborn me, then they're idiots.
[He held his body together through pure strength of will, during his fonon separation on Auldrant. Not that that means means much, when their target is Sheba and not him.]
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[Sheba is pretty sure the draining of color from her collar counts as something happening. Still, she can't help but chuckle a little weakly - if this were Weyard, sure. She wouldn't be too worried. She's come back from worse things there, easily patched up by Piers or Jenna with Ply or Aura if she was still conscious, Felix with Revive if she wasn't. But this isn't a wound, it's something else entirely.
She doesn't know how Asch can be so sure of himself here. Whatever game the administrators were playing this month - it was new, at least as far as she could tell. Even when they'd shifted and changed into monsters their collars hadn't done this. Even last time when Jason had been in charge, it hadn't been like this...]
Don't be stubborn. If they... [She hesitates. The shadow closest to them stops in its tracks, studying them, seemingly confused - for the moment it stays where it is. The other two shadows quicken their paces, still sticking to the walls.] ...if yours... get too close. Just go. Outrun them. Don't listen to them... okay? Promise?
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[A couple shadows, not Sheba's, file into the floor. True to his word, Asch doesn't even look up.
He doesn't tell her that if she dies - if she and the other people he cares about are gone, then he won't fight. He'd far rather go with them, wherever that is, than stay here. Even if it's into nothingness.]
But I'm not leaving you.
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It bothers her that he wouldn't just say yes. It also bothers her that she has no way of confirming what she suspects - that his wording is vague because he doesn't want her to hear something - because she lacks the energy necessary to peer into his mind. But then, if she could do that, she'd probably be in better shape, and this conversation wouldn't be happening at all.
She manages a faint smile in spite of her misgivings.]
...that's so much like you.
[Even if she'd rather see him safe, it is nice not to be alone. The shadows don't count, even as they draw closer. As if sensing the way that she's struggling to keep her eyes open and struggling to stay conscious, the shadow that had stilled moves again until it comes to a stop three feet away. The other two break away from the walls and approach Asch's beanbag; the pair of them have been flanked.
Their mouths move. They're clearly saying something - Asch won't know what - but Sheba shivers in his arms and shifts, just slightly, as if she's trying to curl up on herself.]
...hey, Asch...? [Her voice is even softer than before, almost disconnected. And yet there's almost some sort of finality in her tone; like she knows she has little chance of surviving these next few minutes.] Good-bye, and... thank you for... every...
[The word is not completed. It dies on her lips. The three shadows around them launch themselves at the pair, though they're clearly going for Sheba; it's a swarm of three, and when they finally back off, Sheba is utterly still and her collar is utterly clear, without a trace of color. A glitch in the glamour shows that there is no color in her wireframe at all; the glitch lasts three long moments before the system is back in place and she's nothing more than a small, pale-faced girl.
The shadows of Felix, Jenna, and Piers linger, simply watching.]
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[When they dart over and swarm, he pulls Sheba closer and ducks his head, even knowing it won't do anything. He knows it won't do anything. He's brought enough lives to their ends with his own hands to recognize when someone knows that their words will be the last, even if always before they bore him curses, not thanks.
But he doesn't let go. He can't simply leave her, not until the glitch and he sees nothing but clear wires and film. It's only then that he pulls back even slightly, letting her limp body slide away from where he clutched it to his chest, but not yet out of his arms.
It's a good long moment before he can move, a long moment where shadows gather behind him, and they trail on his heels when he gets up, bearing her to a nearby couch and arranging her as though asleep. It doesn't mean anything; there's no one else to pay any respects before the retrieval units inevitably haul her off with all the dignity afforded a sack of grain, but that doesn't stop him from gently folding her hands, from brushing a bit of hair out of her face.
He doesn't, can't weep. But he wishes he could. And from all around him, voices -
You'll weep for her, but not for us?
Why is she so important? You barely know her.
If you wanted to save her, you should have found her sooner.
How pitiful. No wonder you couldn't save Auldrant. You couldn't even save a single little girl.
It's that last that makes him snap.]
Get out! All of you, out!
[Of course, they only step closer. Asch makes a small noise, sliding down to his knees in front of the couch.]
There was nothing I could have done... Nothing, for any of you...
This threadjack is fully sanctioned.
It is true that her collar is a startlingly light shade of violet. It is also true that she still has the strength to stand and walk under her own power and can move ahead of the few shadow children that have been keeping her company.
She has been strong.
The facade of strength vanishes when she sees the shadows in the room and moves to investigate. She recognizes the redhead first and the blonde second and it is then that she lets out a cry, the same moment that Asch snaps at his shadow children. Sheba is too still for slumber and Jenna recognizes that though she does not wish to acknowledge it.]
What the hell happened here?! Tinder!
[The orange creature appears in a bright flash of light and attempts to reignite a spark of life in Sheba somewhere. But it has no visible effect and Jenna grits her teeth before turning on Asch, a fire in her eyes and a scowl on her face.]
Answer me! Tinder should have brought her back! What did you do?!
[She is jumping to conclusions but it has been a hard week and Jenna knows from experience that her sword passes right through the shadows. They are intangible and thus should not have been able to bring about her best friend's death.]
hell yes
It's probably fortunate that Asch himself isn't a Mars Adept, otherwise sparks would literally fly.]
You think I did this?
[His voice can't seem to make up its mind as to whether it sound be a dangerous growl or a shout.]
You honestly think, even for a moment, that I would hurt her? The first person who saw value in me, not my power or my status or my blood?
[He's livid, but he doesn't get up, doesn't budge from Sheba's side. Instead he makes a sweeping gesture to the gathering of shadows that have come to surround him, as though they, too, were mourners for the girl on the couch.]
Look again - there's your culprit.
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She might trust you but I don't.
[There is a scoff when he indicates the shadow children and Jenna draws her sword. Her strike is quick and precise and it passes right through the two she is closest to, doing them no harm.]
They're nothing more than shadows. I find you with my best friend's dead body and nothing but your word that you didn't make her that way, and you expect me to believe you!
[She points her sword at him and glares hard at him, blinking back tears.]
Get away from her. I'll watch over her now.
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[He doesn't move. He's seen more threatening swords in his time, and if she kills him here -
Well, he doesn't honestly care.]
Or are you both so deaf as to not hear them, and so blind that you can't see what they're doing to you?
[He reaches up to tap at his collar, but almost as though on cue, the glamour flickers - Sheba an empty, clear vessel, and Asch drained of color up nearly as far as his long gloves. Even absent skin and color, his gaze doesn't budge.]
Given that a person only hears the shadows from their home - [And now his gaze does slide off to the shadows waiting in the wings.] I'd say you're far more responsible for this than I am.
[It's a vicious little dig, but he doesn't particularly care about being polite when people point swords at him. He's made his point; if she wants him removed, then she'll have to talk the retrieval units into doing it, for a loose, bladed definition of talking.]
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[The dig propels her to action. She brings her sword up and then down on his right shoulder in a sharp slashing motion. It is not a killing blow though there is undeniable killing intention behind her eyes. If untreated he may lose a lot of blood and grow lightheaded but it shouldn't be fatal and that means Jenna stilled her hand though she doesn't know why.
Maybe it's hard to kill a man in cold blood. Maybe she knows there is some truth to his words. Maybe she fears retribution from Sheba should her friend ever open her eyes again.]
I would never harm her. [The words come out in a hiss.] She's like family to me. She's my sister in everything but name! [If Jenna had her way that would change but it would require her brother's cooperation.] These shadows are obviously some kind of trick. I would never kill her and you're a fool if you think you can blame me for something they did. She knows I would never do anything to hurt her.
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He flinches at the blow, but nothing else. There's a flicker of glamour where the blood is fluid, more violet than clear, and he glances at it for a moment before locking his eyes with her again. There's a faint smile on his face, satisfied, because she didn't kill him and that, to him, is as good as winning.]
Then why is it so hard for you to believe that there's someone else who feels the same?
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She isn't that sort of person. If she went around killing everyone who pissed her off she could never face her friends with her head held high.]
Because you're not one of us. [Her expression is hard.] You don't know what we went through together. You never will. She might tell you about it someday but you won't have gone through it with her. You didn't see her taken from her friends and family, you didn't watch her and protect her while she grew alongside us. That was me and Felix and Piers who did. She is too precious to me for me to just stand there and watch a stranger with her life in his hands.
Now you listen to me. [She knows she sounds hysterical. She knows she will probably regret this once she has her head on straight and isn't emotionally volatile from a week straight of listening to the ghosts of her past. She keeps talking anyway.] She doesn't belong here. She should be safe and sound at home. After everything she went through she more than earned it. But since she isn't there, I'm going to do everything in my power to keep her safe until she can go back. And that means you can just back off because I will never allow you to take her from her home and the people who care about her most. She has a life and a family on Weyard and from what told me, since she doesn't remember coming down from the last lighthouse before she appeared here, she hasn't seen them in years. Not since they saw her make a fall that everyone, including her, thought would be the death of her. I don't want her getting attached and choosing not to go home if she has the chance to! It was hard enough watching her go when she chose to go back to Lalivero instead of staying with Felix and me and the rest of us, okay?! So, so just back off!
[Jenna's abandonment issues rear their ugly heads once more.]
no subject
[The more emotional she gets, the more he's sitting back inside himself, cold and hard and logical. He's harsh, yes, he always is, and the chances that she'll ever see what he's pointing out as helpful are this close to zero.
But that doesn't stop him. Stubborn redheads all around.]
You're right; I can't know what she went through with you. But by the same token, you have no right to dismiss what she and I have been through together.
[His hands clench briefly in his lap, the memory of electricity running through them, before he brings his left hand up to stem the blood from his shoulder.]
You think anyone could replace you and your friends in her heart? She died because she wasn't willing to give up, wasn't willing to send away the shades of you that ate at her until she couldn't move. And if there was a way to send her home, to a safe and whole version of it, then I would be the first to bundle her ass up and send her there.
But that's not the case.
[Their worlds are dead and there's nowhere safe to go. Just the places they carve out for themselves, and if Jenna thinks Asch is going to give up his little corner at Sheba's side, then she really is an idiot.]
So if you think you're going to scare me off by throwing a childish tantrum, then realize this: you may be her best friend. You might even know what it's like to have her die in your arms someday. But you weren't there when the glamour fell; you weren't with her in the elevator shaft, at Pandora's ball; you weren't by her side when "something true" was the only thing we had.
I was. And you can't take that away from us, either.
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Ugh! Just get out of my way. I'm going to take her and -
[She stops speaking abruptly when she turns her glare away from Asch and looks at the couch on which Sheba had been lain. Her body was there moments before. Or was it minutes? Jenna can't remember the exact time when she last saw Sheba was but she knows she saw her. Why isn't she there now? When did the retrieval units take her?]
How?! {She looks hopping mad. If she were an overworld sprite she might literally hop.] You distracted me and moved her somehow, didn't you?!
[Disregarding how impossible that would be as she hasn't stopped glaring at him long enough for him to make any covert motions.]
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[Lol, Jenna, really. If you actually think he's going to be stopped by getting slapped, then you're an idiot - people getting so angry they don't know what to do with themselves except hurt the one talking? Tends to mean that person is right. He knows that one from both ends.
At her outburst, though, he breaks eye contact to glance over his shoulder. Huh.]
Looks like the retrieval units are still doing their jobs, at least.
[It's a good sign, right? They're still taking her away, that hopefully means that they'll fix her. If that's the case, he swears he'll kiss Jason on the beak.
For now, though, he's going to get up and get out of here. No more reason to stick around, after all - no point sitting vigil for a body that isn't there.]
I've got better things to do than sit here and listen to your irrational accusations. Try using logic next time, it'll get you a lot farther in life.
[And with that he's adjusting his cloak and turning for the stairs, oops.]