three.

[sicharia]

Characters: [AU9] Claudia Hortensia & OPEN
Setting: Floor 101; Floor 50
Format: Brackets preferred
Summary: Claudia looks at pictures of her family, prays, and cries! But mostly cries.
Warnings: Prrrobably lots of self-hate in this post.

I. Floor 101
[It might be better to do this somewhere more private. Then again, someone else might say it would be better not to do this at all—it's like a form of self-flagellation, if not a physical one, with Claudia purposefully hurting herself because she deserves to be punished. The atmosphere of the hanging garden attracts her, though, and, at least in her own mind, this is something she needs to do.]

[It's not as though this is the first time she has looked at the photo album that came with her inside her trunk, and it's not as though it has never made her feel melancholy before. This is, however, the first time she has been able to bring herself to touch it since the appearance of those shadows. There are photos of Kirei, and her wedding, and her daughter, and her family and Risei—and now looking at them hurts so much she cries until she can't see.]

[So, late in the morning, this is where she'll be, her head bowed as she tries not to sob out loud.]

II. Floor 50
[Claudia still refuses to visit the cathedral floor, so this is where she has taken to praying. The brightness of the floor, between the windows and the overhead lights, helps to clear her head, so while it could perhaps be a little more comfortable, it does well enough. She can be found here, kneeling by one of the windows with her hands clasped in prayer, in the afternoon and into the evening, apparently without regard to the time of day despite lacking the ability to defend herself.]

Comments

floor 101

[vermicompost]

[Kariya's not able to make it far, these days. The elevator ride to the cafeteria is almost too long, but he can descend a floor or two from the dormitories, and he does. The garden is beautiful, at least, and he still does like to see the park, in spite of everything.

He pauses when he catches sight of Claudia, hesitating as he studies her, as if not quite sure of who she is. After a moment, he steps forward.]

Hello...

[sicharia]

[Attention absorbed as it is, Claudia only realizes she has company when Kariya speaks. She had been half-slouched, but now she bolts straight up, the cover of the album snapping shut like he has caught her looking at something illicit. Her vision is still blurred as she looks in his direction.]

Oh, I—

[She bows her head and wipes her eye. Part of her wants to flee, uncomfortable and somehow ashamed, but instead, she freezes.]

Hello?

[She hadn't meant to sound so uncertain.]

[vermicompost]

Are you all right?

[He continues to move toward her, slowly, uncertain himself. He glances at the flowers at either side of him, as if slightly distracted by them, but he knows where he is.]

It's beautiful here. It's like... a dream. I wonder why they would make it so beautiful.

[sicharia]

I'm—

[She stays where she is as he approaches. She tries to stay focused on his face, but inevitably, her eye wanders down and up and to the surrounding flowers before she forces it back again. She has to struggle to keep her voice steady as she speaks.]

I'm sorry. It seems like I'm crying a lot when I see you lately. [She smiles as she says it, but her expression and her tone both are wry. She pauses uncomfortably, then asks:] Are you?

[vermicompost]

It's all right. There's nothing wrong with crying.

[He sinks to the ground, not far from her but not too close. He seems to be relieved to be off his feet.]

I used to get in trouble for crying, when I was little, and that wasn't right. No one should feel bad about it. It's fine to show how you feel.

I'm okay. I'm more worried about you.

[sicharia]

I... I sh-shouldn't...

[But she has to stop, pursing her lips together hard to keep her lower lip from trembling. She looks away, feeling childish as she tears up all over again.]

[How ridiculous.]

[It's a few seconds before she moves closer to him, when he settles on the ground. She sits as well, but not as near as she could. She grips the photo album where it rests in her lap with both hands, because she knows they'll shake if she doesn't.]

[She isn't okay, and she won't try to tell him that she is, but...]

I'm not important. [She blurts that out without really meaning to, but she doesn't try to take it back.] You're—really...?

[vermicompost]

But you can.

You're important to me.

[He feels the same, that he doesn't matter--but it's true, about him. (He may be a hypocrite in this.)]

Really--? What?

[He's not exactly sure what she's asking him. His brain isn't particularly adept at the best of times, not since his training began.]

[sicharia]

Am I?

[The question, as short as it is, is unsteady, her voice wavering as she asks it. But Claudia feels unsteady and nervous as she asks, her gaze very firmly turned downward now. She wants to be important to him, but even that makes her feel guilty now.]

[She fidgets.]

You're really all right? D-do you...

[She knows that she isn't being particularly helpful now, but she can't seem to get the question of do you know who I am from her mouth.]

[vermicompost]

Of course.

[He insists, earnestly, with a nod. She's one of the most important people to him.]

Yes, I'm--

[He's not sure how to express it. He feels ashamed of himself, and at the same time, uncertain; he's not quite sure what is real and what isn't. But he thinks this is real, even if it's also an illusion...

...the Tower makes everything more confusing.]

I'm better. I think.

[sicharia]

[He insists, and she swallows, her breath hitching in a tiny half-sob. Abruptly, she shifts closer to him, the album sliding off her lap as she moves. She wants to cling to him, but she's cautious when she puts her arms around him.]

I just—I care about you so much. [She feels like an idiot no matter what she says, so she just says it.] I'm fine as long as you are.

[vermicompost]

Then we're both fine. I care about you, too.

[He leans into her touch as her arms come around him. He glances at the photo album as it moves, curious, but he doesn't ask about it yet.]

I'm sorry if I--upset you. I wasn't myself.

[He's still not sure if he is. His memories are confused and confusing. He hopes that he didn't make her angry, but she doesn't seem angry.]

[sicharia]

[When he leans into the gesture, she holds on more firmly. She has to bite her lip again; she really doesn't want to break down in front of him, again, even if a part of her wants to press her face against his shoulder and sob.]

Oh, I— [Well, it's not as though she can say nothing about that upset her, but even so.] You don't need to apologize. It— It wasn't your fault.

[vermicompost]

No, it was my fault. It was completely my fault.

[The Tower hadn't made that happen to him. It hadn't changed other people's memories. He had done that to himself. He looks down, still resting against her, unwilling to give up their contact.]

I just--I'm very weak. And selfish. I'm not really a good person... I'm sorry.

II. Floor 50

[chevalier_mal_fet]

[The day grows darker, and Lancelot is moving through the Tower in his spirit form, illusion though that form may be.
His Master is sleeping, and he takes this time to enjoy the solitude, as well as to kill what Monsters he comes across, as he does take some pleasure in battle.

At the sight of Claudia, the woman who his Master cares for so much, he pauses.

After a moment, his body takes form before her, and he bows.]

Lady, it is not safe here.

[sicharia]

[Automatically, Claudia looks up when Lancelot appears—though her knees hurt, so she doesn't stand. She has been here for some time now, and she has been kneeling on the hard floor for most of that time. She hadn't even stopped to eat, though that was more forgetfulness on her part than a conscious decision to forgo food for prayer.]

[In any case, she doesn't immediately respond. The most honest answer would be to say that she knows and doesn't care, but she feels reluctant to admit that to Lancelot outright.]

I'm sorry. I lost track of time.

[That's true, too, though she hadn't actually bothered to leave even after she realized the time.]

[chevalier_mal_fet]

[He stands patient and still, waiting for her response, then listens solemnly when it comes.]

You have naught to apologize for, my Lady.

[He suspects there is more to it than simply losing track of time, but he will not pry. It is not his place. His place is to Serve.
His Master would wish for him to ensure her safety.]

But please, permit me to escort you to a safer place. The hour has grown late.

[sicharia]

[She smiles, just a little.]

All right. Thank you, Lancelot. I'm very grateful.

[She shifts slightly, as if to rise to her feet, but then she pauses. She's sorer than she had realized, and she feels embarrassed for it.]

[Rather sheepishly, she looks up to him and says:]

Ah... Could you help me up? I'll be fine once I'm on my feet.

[chevalier_mal_fet]

I am glad to hear it. You are most welcome, Lady. I am ever at your Service.

[Without hesitation, he extends a hand to her.]

It will be my pleasure.

[sicharia]

Thank you very much.

[And she doesn't hesitate to take his hand and pull herself up. When she leans over to brush her knees off, she takes the moment to stretch as well, fingers pressing against the joints through the skirt covering them. She lets out a faint, rueful puff of breath; it's been a while since she's felt so sore just getting up, but she has no one to blame but herself, she supposes.]

I do hope we're taking the elevator.

[There's a faintly joking lilt to her tone.]

[chevalier_mal_fet]

We'll leave the stairs for another day.

[He catches the joke and a faint smile crosses his face. It is brief.
He could carry her, as he often carries his Master, but she is well enough to walk, and he will not assume, though he notes the stiffness in her movements.

He leads her toward the door to the stairs. They must travel a few floors to reach one where the elevator stops.]

There are few here of our Faith. I honor your Devotion, but if it be not too bold, I would ask you not to neglect more earthly concerns.

[sicharia]

[If someone were to carry her now, she would just feel awkward, anyway. So, it's probably for the best. She tails behind him, her demeanor subdued this evening.]

This isn't something I make a habit of—I'm just a little preoccupied right now, that's all. I appreciate your concern, but you don't need to worry.

[It's only after the words have left her mouth that she realizes how genuinely she means them. Maybe it isn't much by any other standard, but right now, his words seem like a great kindness to her, and she feels intensely grateful.]

[chevalier_mal_fet]

[Lancelot knows that it is often important for people to be allowed to walk on their own, even if it is hard.
He carries his Master only when his Master's strength fails him completely.

He bows his head.]

As you say, Lady. I will not doubt your word, I felt only that I should say my piece.

This place, I know, strains our spirits. I would be the last to judge those who act amiss because their hearts ache.

[In his Time, he had done many things he now regrets, inspired by ardor, passion, or rage.]

If you seek someone to speak to of your worries, you may speak to me, but if not, then remain silent, and I shall not trouble you.

[sicharia]

There's nothing to say.

[Maybe there is, but it's nothing she can do anything about now. Troubling someone else with it won't do her any good. "I wish I had died," probably doesn't communicate exactly what she would want it to, anyway.]

[In spite of those thoughts, though, she smiles to herself when she speaks again.]

But it's nice just knowing you'd be willing to listen, so thank you. I don't know if you'd ever...want to, but just so you know, I want to offer you the same thing in return. I know things have been difficult lately.

[chevalier_mal_fet]

[He nods, slowly. He is not one to pry into another's business, so he does not.]

Your thanks is not needed. It would be my pleasure and my honor.

My only troubles are my Master's, Lady, and they are his to speak of.

Other Servants here, I know, act as if they are the Men they once were, and that is well and good for them, but I do not. I am not.

[What he had wanted was Peace, Justice, Death. It was not a second life. He will serve his Master faithfully, and he will not fail, as he had in life.]

[sicharia]

[Claudia hums faintly to herself, taking a few moments to consider.]

To be honest, I'm not sure I understand, but I'll take your word for it.

[She won't pry, either, and just the company is nice, so instead she asks:] Can you at least tell me how you've been?

[There's a slight hint of teasing in her voice again, but it's a genuine question.]