05 [written/action]

[wipesfaith]

[He doesn't know what time it is when he startles awake, just that it's still dark and the sensations pressing into him - his flesh pulling apart as he sinks deeper into water or blood or rock so hot it's liquid fire he doesn't know what but he can't breathe anymore - are more like memories, and they linger in his waking more sharply than any nightmare. Propping himself up on his elbow, trying to steady his breath, he looks across the gap between his bed and Marco's.

Pale moonlight reflects off the white of the bare mattress.]

Marco...? Hey...

[He already knows no one is there to hear him. It sinks in him like a rock dropped in a pond, with little ripples expanding to ones that reach much farther. Looks like that's all the borrowed time he'll get.

He switches on the light as he reaches for his journal, like it might prove him wrong. It doesn't. He sinks back down into the pillow. Weakly punches the mattress. Runs his hands through his sleep-disheveled hair. Squeezes his eyes shut. Turns the light off again, eventually. But he doesn't sleep much.]


[Then, at a more reasonable hour...]

[Written - Locked to Erwin and Levi]

I have a report to make, sirs. I discovered Marco Bott of the 104th training class to be missing early this morning. His things are gone too and his name isn't registered on the journal network anymore, leading me to conclude that he's returned home.

There's nothing else out of the ordinary to report at this time.

[This is so much easier to get out in writing. Immediately after, he'll make a more casual public announcement, because he probably ought to.]

[Written]

Marco Bott went home.

[Where he will die, and no one will see, and no one will take the time to give him a proper burial because in the end, there is nothing to distinguish him from the scores of corpses that will be reduced to little but bone fragments and ashes and lingering memories. There's a long pause that won't be reflected in the written message, as he tries to think of something worthwhile to add and fails.]

Just thought people should know.

[But some time later, an addendum will appear at the bottom of the message:]

Anyone know anything about raising sheep?

[Action]

[When he's not training at the Battle Dome or caring for his horse at the stables (recently, he's been going out for longer leisure rides, and today won't break the habit), Jean can be found at the small pen erected outside the Flame Building, where he wonders what the hell to do with the now morbidly fluffy lamb it houses. Aside from slaughtering it and eating like a king, because Marco would've gotten all offended at the suggestion. Speaking of Jean's distasteful, overdone jokes, the lamb in question probably looks a bit miffed that he's here instead of its proper owner.]

Comments

[action]

[revolutionarygirl]

[Unsurprisingly, Utena has been plagued by the same nightmares. She had been hoping to be able to rest once she returned to the enclosure, but luck just isn't on her side, is it? So she's doing her own training at the Battle Dome, but her moves are desperate and wild. She's pushing herself.

She can't forget it. Any of it. Not the nightmares of her flesh peeling away and the unbearable heat, and not the deeper memory--one much older than her memories of the draft, years older--of the girl impaled with swords. Why can't she forget?! Why, why, why--]

[action]

[wipesfaith]

[Since getting dumped back in the village after the battle finally ended, he has tried to avoid using the blades of the 3D maneuver gear as much as he can - he doesn't like to remember what he had done with them, back in that hellhole of a city. He focuses on the basics, just building up and maintaining muscle strength and endurance. And when he gets bored, he focuses on perfecting complex aerial maneuvers instead. It's something he's good at. Something that demands all of his attention.

When he's done for the day, he cools down on the observation deck and watches others go through their routines. Should Utena come up to the second floor for the vending machines, he'll give her a nod of recognition from where he now sits.]

Looked like you were working hard down there. [He caps his bottled water (weird, but convenient) and sets it down, giving her a look.]

[action]

[revolutionarygirl]

[She does go to the second floor, needing something to cool down with. At the sound of Jean's voice, she jumps a little. Feeling bad about it (why does she keep doing that? They're friends), she laughs to try and cover it up.]

Heh, thanks. [Except she notices that he's giving her a look. She's not completely clueless.] Yeah, I... I guess I was.

[She sounds extremely distant.]

[action]

[wipesfaith]

[He takes in her uncharacteristic jitters, her out-of-it tone, that thin cover-up laugh, and his frown sharpens.]

They're just simulations, but you'll end up getting hurt if you push yourself too hard.

[Action]

[whiskytraitorfirefight]

[With Kakashi still recovering and not in the mood for training at all, Ginia skips out on her regular schedule. She's outside the bakery, enjoying a snack and checking up on the journal when she sees Jean's message.

Marco.

Even knowing it's not something Jean would lie about, Ginia flips to the list of villagers and scrolls through the list. She reaches the end without seeing Marco's picture and returns to the top to check again. Only after a third check does she stop.

Life isn't fair and it was only a matter of time before they were all sent home. But Marco... to have died so young, couldn't he have had a few more months? A few more years? A chance to grow up and enjoy life?

None of that now. There's Jean to check up on. You do what you can for the living.

Ginia grabs her back and heads back to Flame Building. She spots Jean by the lamb pen - not just a spindly little lamb anymore - and whistles to catch his attention.

Three weeks ago, Ginia would have walked over and hugged him. Now, she stands several feet away.]

/I'm sorry./

[Action]

[wipesfaith]

[Having replenished Mario's feed supply, Jean watches him eat from the other side of the fence, where the little shit can't butt its head against his legs. At the sharp whistle, he turns his head. The surprise falls from his expression, adopting neutrality (which he wears as something of a scowl) edged with what could be uncertainty. It's not that he'd been avoiding her since the draft; he just doesn't know how to approach her now.

But she must have seen the message he'd left.]

So am I.

[Apologies don't amount to much with something like this, but what else is there to say?]

[Action]

[whiskytraitorfirefight]

[Ginia knew Jean wasn't quite avoiding her, but he wasn't seeking her out either. Things were different now, expected. He's seen her as she is and she doesn't judge him for it. They'll have to address things at some point, but now isn't the time. Not with Marco gone. It's sad how many people from his world disappeared.]

/If there's anything you need, feel free to ask./

[That hasn't changed, though she doesn't expect him to take up the offer. Besides, what could she do? She can't bring Marco back, can't turn back time.]

[Action]

[wipesfaith]

[His knuckles turn white around the wooden railing of the pen.]

I'll be fine.

[Because that's all he can do. He's done it before, mourned and straightened up and pressed forward. But it's impossible not to look back over your shoulder every once in a while.]

[action]

[sketchingideals]

[Jeb is coming back home from the flower shop of all places, holding a small potted plant. The nightmares he's been having have really been getting to him, and he figures that since he feels so at peace around nature, having a small bit of nature in his room might help. When he passes the flame building, he notices Jean and stops.

While he smiles and waves at the lamb (what an adorable fellow!), he's not sure if he should talk to Jean himself. The last time they did was on the battlefield, and--Jeb actually winces at the memories. He wasn't himself that day, and he knows it. He should apologize for how he acted, but...!

Not only that, but he knows Marco went home. He doesn't know the extent of Jean's friendship with Marco, but he did go to school with both of them. He at least knows they're friends.]

[action]

[wipesfaith]

[When he spots movement out of the corner of his eye, he glances over his shoulder to see Jeb standing in the road. What happened in that battle has unsettled so many of his perceptions, of war, of himself, and of so many of the people around him. They had fought and killed not monsters, but people. He still doesn't know how to feel about it; he just knows that it's hard to excuse it away with even the soundest logic. But we had to, if we wanted to live.

And he knows that Jeb had struggled with it too. In the end, he has no right to fault him.]

Hey. [A simple, terse greeting is all his mood is up for.]

[action]

[sketchingideals]

...hi. [He glances away from Jean quickly, suddenly feeling extremely uncomfortable. Maybe he should have just kept walking.] You're... um... you're looking better.

[Voice]

[savedtheworld]

I'm sorry to hear about Marco. He's a nice friend. [Aang didn't get to know him half as well as he'd like to, but they did go to school together and all. Aang knew it must be tough on Jean - if the situations were reversed, this definitely would have eaten away at Marco.] I'm gonna miss him, and I'm gonna be hopeful for him.

So you... want to raise sheep? That sounds really nice of you, Jean! The trick is to raise them with love and affection.

[Voice]

[wipesfaith]

Yeah... He's a good guy to have around.

[I'm gonna be hopeful for him. He knows these are intended as words of comfort, but the unknowing impertinence just stings. For all his brutal honesty, he doesn't have the heart to tell Aang that Marco is a few short steps away from death's door.]

Just one sheep. Marco got it after that Christmas holiday and was taking care of it. The little asshole has it out for me, I swear, so I dunno how much love and affection I have to spare for it.

[Voice]

[savedtheworld]

That's not a nice way to talk about a sheep. Did you ever try hugging it?

[voice]

[forelocked]

Hey, sorry about your friend.

[Not that he knows anything about Marco, but going back home is just about the worst thing he can think of.]

Might be a book on sheep at the library.

[Because Farlan does not know shit about sheep.]

[voice]

[wipesfaith]

[He doesn't really know how to respond to the well-intended but ultimately empty sympathy; commiserating works best when it's a shared loss. So he turns to sterile logic, because it's easier to grasp than anything he's feeling. But his voice sounds hollow, like it's something he's reciting.]

Everyone has to go back eventually. Nothing anyone can do about it.

[So let's talk sheep instead.]

Yeah, that'd be worth looking into. I don't want it to be my fault that this thing dies.

[voice]

[forelocked]

I don't think that's necessarily true. No point just giving up, anyway.

[Farlan's not just going to give up, he doesn't care how hopeless it is.]

There's field guides there. So there's probably a sheep guide. It can't be that hard. There's actually grass and plants here for it.

[Action - Outside Flame Building]

[onearmedexmerc]

[Evan had noticed the small pen and it's inhabitant before when he had left the Flame building. Never had seen anyone around it before today though.

Curiously, the young man who was at the pen now pinged something Ginia had told him when talking about the allies she had made in the village. Ah well, he might recall it later.

Still, the lamb was adorable. Evan wandered over to the pen, leaning on it to get a closer look.]

Is she your's?

[Not that Evan was sure the lamb was a she, but it was cute and fluffy and she felt a lot better than it.]

[Action]

[wipesfaith]

[His eyes linger blatantly on the space where another arm should be before rising to look at the stranger proper. He's remembering the list Ginia had given him, names to look out for.]

It's a he, and it's my friend's. [A pause. His eyebrows twitch downward.] But he went back home, so now I'm looking after it.

[Action]

[onearmedexmerc]

[Used people noticing the arm first Evan ignored the blatant stare.]

Ah sorry, him then. [He turns and looks at Jean, frowning slightly.] Oh I see... That's rough.

[There really isn't much he can say to that. He doesn't want to think about what would happen if Ginia just left... or if he did.]

Ah, pardon my manners. The name's Evan. [He offers his hand to shake.]

written; don't mind me just late as hell

[reviling]

[Marco's gone now too. It seems as though having strength in numbers was only temporary. That's frustrating, but there's nothing that can be done about it.]

Understood. Thank you for your report.

[pause.]

Do you need anything?

written; don't mind at all!

[wipesfaith]

[He pauses over that question, does he need anything. Leans back in his chair and sighs at the ceiling, eyes tired because last night constituted as little more than a broken-up series of naps. Comes back to it.]

With all due respect sir, there isn't much of anything for you to do. It's fine.

written;

[reviling]

Will you stay in the same room?

[Written]

[ledbythewind]

I see. Thank you for letting us know.

[It wasn't even as if he'd known Marco all that well, really. Sure, they'd had an awkward mistletoe encounter, but that didn't count as knowing him the way Jean had.

But Marco had seemed like a kind boy, and there was always a sense of sadness when someone like that was sent home-- someone who had given off a feeling that, with enough time, perhaps they could have become a friend.]

[Written]

[wipesfaith]

I know he met a lot of people here and I figured they should know he left.

[Which...he already said, but what else is there to add? And now that Marco has gone back to their own mess of a world, where his final minutes are neatly ticking away from him already, he won't remember meeting any of them. He won't remember Jean, the way he is now. None of it will have mattered, really. Marco's borrowed time is gone and half forgotten, remembered only by those still stuck here.]