wipesfaith | 05 [written/action]

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05 [written/action]

[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.]

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[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--]

[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./

Edited 2014-06-06 19:33 (UTC)

[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.]

[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.]

[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?]

[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.]

Edited 2014-06-07 03:27 (UTC)

[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.]

[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.]

[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.

...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.

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.

I'm not pushing myself too hard. [She hates how defensive that came out. It's usually so much easier to talk to Jean, and it's not like her to snap at him like that.] ...sorry. This... isn't like me at all, is it?

[What is "like" her, anyway? She wanted to be a prince... but the horrors she had seen back then--are they what princes face? Is this the true nature of the world? She doesn't want to accept it.]

[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.]

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.

[He raises a questioning eyebrow, before it hits him what Jeb means.]

We've been back in the village for a while now. [His words are defensive, because he knows he was a piss-scared mess out there, and he committed acts he never though he could, never wanted to, and he's not proud of any of it.]

[He flinches at the defensive words, although he doesn't blame Jean for them.]

That's right... we have. And that's... that's good. Of course we'd be better, right? I'm sorry. [He's not a good liar, is he? His own words are pretty tense, and the only thing he really means is the apology. Nothing is really better, is it? It won't be for a while, if at all.] We can... relax now.

[Except he can't. There's too much shame he feels for him to possibly relax, nightmares aside...]

[As fine as everyone else, no doubt. The nightmares, the lingering memories, the feeling of being watched, the memories from the battlefield, they're all sharing them in various forms. That on top of Marco leaving... she doubts he's fine. One day maybe, but not now.

But she doesn't press. Not her place to presume how he's feeling. But she can still give advice.]

/Don't bottle things up. Find someone to talk to./

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

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.]

[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.]

[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.

The only time it lets me get close is when it's headbutting me in the shin.

At least you can recognize that.

[He stands and strides over to the vending machine, where he'll push the button for water. A bottle promptly tumbles out with a clunk, and he stoops to grab it from the slot. Fuckin' technology...]

If you're trying to become stronger, because you think it'll help you be ready next time, running yourself into the ground isn't the way to do it.

Okay... I'm pretty sure that's just a headbutt of love. He just wants to get close to you! He can't hug the way he is because he's got stubby little sheep legs and no arms. So that's the closest he can do to hugging you! So it's up to you to make it a real hug.

[He just nods at her advice. Up until a few weeks ago, he might have talked to her about it, but uncertainty (unfair as it may be on his part, he knows) has erected something of a wall between them. He has friends here, but no one who he feels like he can just dump everything on. No one who would understand the weight of what it meant for Marco to go back without him having to explain. But there's Mikasa, the only other remaining member of his class.

Then he gestures into the pen, where the lamb is still chewing away.]

Now I'm stuck taking care of this. Horses, I know what to do, but sheep... [He shrugs.]

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