✟ MISA MISA ✟ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
lifespanned) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
aionlogs2022-07-29 02:05 am
lifespanned) wrote in aionlogs2022-07-29 02:05 am
OPEN
WHO: Misa & co.
WHAT: event aftermath!
WHERE: Achamoth, tiny smidge of Godsblood
WHEN: late Soviseri, early Firaseri
WARNINGS: will add if applicable!
I. early return (citadel, misa's room)
[ The return to Achamoth is, ironically, uneventful.
Misa is unconscious for most of it, and when she makes it back to the Citadel, those who see her right when the Godsblood envoy returns will see that she needs the servants' assistance walking to her quarters, and she favors weight far more to her right side. Even still, she doesn't wrap an arm around those who assist her, either, the reason for which is a net of bandages that cover and wrap around the entirety of her right shoulder.
Those who don't witness her directly may still become privy to her weakened state; she doesn't emerge from her quarters for a full day after after the return, which is highly unusual behavior for the outgoing and boisterous Misa, often seen around the Citadel bothering anyone she lays eyes on. Should any other Kenoma try to reach out to her with Communion, or further yet, knock at her door, she'll answer with a tired and irritable: ]
What is it? I'm trying to sleep, here.
II. later return (in the city)
[ When Misa gathers the strength to do more than keep herself contained to the Citadel, the first thing she tries to do is drag other people out with her. It's her number one way of dealing with anything unpleasant in life - to bury it, deeply, beneath something fun and happy and exciting. She's certain she won't be thinking about everything that happened in Godsblood if she spends a little time outdoors with a companion. And luckily, she'll drag just about anyone she knows out with her.
But it's perhaps that over eagerness to go do something to take her mind off things that prompts her to... push herself too fast. While she seems enthusiastic to go outdoors, the fact of the matter is that she's still not wholly herself - her hair remains un-styled, face bare of makeup, due to the lack of mobility in her right arm while it heals. Heavy blood loss in Godsblood has rendered her complexion a little paler than usual, and difficulty moving has rendered her wardrobe much less extravagant and cute than is typical of her outdoors fare.
Not long after she and her trusty out-on-the-town friend have made it away from the Citadel, she suddenly stumbles and slumps heavily in her companion's side in an uncharacteristically awkward fashion. ]
Woah...! I guess I'm still a little woozy.... [ She gives a nervous laugh, clearly trying to play off her dizzy spell— she even tries to reorient herself (with little success, still basically leaning into her Kenopal for support), sticking her tongue out cutely as if she'd just tripped on a rock instead of come close to fainting. ] Gosh, I feel so clumsy.
III. wildcard + closed starters
( feel free to reach out to me on plurk![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
lunarians or in the discord if you'd like to do something aftermath flavored that doesn't fit into these! i'm ofc also open to communions for any pleroma that wanna do aftermath stuff, since it's not likely misa will be up and about in godsblood for long. anywho, i'll be putting closed starters below! )
WHAT: event aftermath!
WHERE: Achamoth, tiny smidge of Godsblood
WHEN: late Soviseri, early Firaseri
WARNINGS: will add if applicable!
I. early return (citadel, misa's room)
[ The return to Achamoth is, ironically, uneventful.
Misa is unconscious for most of it, and when she makes it back to the Citadel, those who see her right when the Godsblood envoy returns will see that she needs the servants' assistance walking to her quarters, and she favors weight far more to her right side. Even still, she doesn't wrap an arm around those who assist her, either, the reason for which is a net of bandages that cover and wrap around the entirety of her right shoulder.
Those who don't witness her directly may still become privy to her weakened state; she doesn't emerge from her quarters for a full day after after the return, which is highly unusual behavior for the outgoing and boisterous Misa, often seen around the Citadel bothering anyone she lays eyes on. Should any other Kenoma try to reach out to her with Communion, or further yet, knock at her door, she'll answer with a tired and irritable: ]
What is it? I'm trying to sleep, here.
II. later return (in the city)
[ When Misa gathers the strength to do more than keep herself contained to the Citadel, the first thing she tries to do is drag other people out with her. It's her number one way of dealing with anything unpleasant in life - to bury it, deeply, beneath something fun and happy and exciting. She's certain she won't be thinking about everything that happened in Godsblood if she spends a little time outdoors with a companion. And luckily, she'll drag just about anyone she knows out with her.
But it's perhaps that over eagerness to go do something to take her mind off things that prompts her to... push herself too fast. While she seems enthusiastic to go outdoors, the fact of the matter is that she's still not wholly herself - her hair remains un-styled, face bare of makeup, due to the lack of mobility in her right arm while it heals. Heavy blood loss in Godsblood has rendered her complexion a little paler than usual, and difficulty moving has rendered her wardrobe much less extravagant and cute than is typical of her outdoors fare.
Not long after she and her trusty out-on-the-town friend have made it away from the Citadel, she suddenly stumbles and slumps heavily in her companion's side in an uncharacteristically awkward fashion. ]
Woah...! I guess I'm still a little woozy.... [ She gives a nervous laugh, clearly trying to play off her dizzy spell— she even tries to reorient herself (with little success, still basically leaning into her Kenopal for support), sticking her tongue out cutely as if she'd just tripped on a rock instead of come close to fainting. ] Gosh, I feel so clumsy.
III. wildcard + closed starters
( feel free to reach out to me on plurk
no subject
...she had blue hair, and a rifle. I'd seen her before, from back then. You know... the communion. [ When all the Kenoma had exchanged information. She must have been in the caverns originally. Still, the length of time since all that information was shared, and her own exhausted state keep her in the dark about the woman's name. ] I can just show you later...
[ Because some stubborn and immature and hurt part of her wants Amos on her side, wants to feel like she was the victim in that whole affair. Because she really feels she was. That woman got away with almost nothing, and here Misa is, perpetually on the edge between consciousness and sleep. Truth be told, she's almost out of breath from speaking that much— jeez, who knew that bloodloss was this debilitating...? Her own lack of experience with serious injury keeps her from knowing how to grapple with it - all she can do at present is try to rest best she can up against the wall. What hadn't been visible before when she'd been laying down is the still somewhat open wound on the back of her shoulder— raw from having the bullet dug out of it, and with bandages still stained with traces of blood. ]
She knew my name already, so it must have been part of their plan.
[ Getting rid of Misa and Howl first, that is; it hadn't been some act of violence born out of desperation, but rather all very calculated. Of course, her immediate thought back then was that someone who had been inside the prison must have been responsible for such a plan being hatched— Ernesto, Akua, and Rand being the most likely suspects. There's no use talking about what should have been done - but she can think about who she should think of most as her enemy. ]
no subject
He frowns at the thought, at the mention of one of the first communions they'd all shared all those months ago. Too much has happened since then. It's probably all outdated now; he can barely remember. ]
Yeah. Show me when you can. [ Her exhaustion is starting to make him feel exhausted again — that, and the part where he's suffered his fair share of injuries over the past few days — and it seeps into his voice, as much as he tries to keep it out. ] I guess that means they see you as a threat, at least. So. Could be worse.
[ ... That is an attempt at a joke, yes.
He lets his eyes slip shut for a moment, though his voice comes out stronger when he speaks again, like the action has let him redirect his energies to where they need to be. She needs to hear him for this; this is something he needs to say. ]
I'm sorry I wasn't there to protect you. Feel like that was part of the deal we made a while back, and you got hurt anyway. So. I fucked that up, and I'm sorry.
[ He should be the one getting shot, not her. So, yes — Misa is unequivocally a victim in all of this, and he'll kick himself for a bit for letting things get that far. At least until he can actually do something about it later. ]
no subject
She shakes her head, firmly. ]
You almost died the day before, stupid...
[ And she hasn't forgotten that, either - but only now is the very fresh memory of his blood running thick over her fingers being brought up, unbidden, from the back of her mind. Somehow, her skin manages to pale more, her eyes pressing shut even tighter. Don't think of it. Don't think of it. He lived, there's no reason to be upset, or to think of horrors that are well in the past. She wishes she still felt annoyed as she had the moments before it'd happened— that'd be preferable to the sick sense of dread she feels now, palpable and sticking between them. One thing is obvious: she's still upset, still raw from the event, probably more than he is - enough so to momentarily take her mind off the trials of her own injury. ]
You shouldn't have been out there at all anymore.
[ He doesn't have to be sorry, and further... what would've been the alternative? That he'd been hurt instead of her? He would've died for certain, after going through all he had, and it's furthest from the thing she wants. Her words come out childish, stubborn, torn between yes, wishing he'd been there to protect her somehow, and no, knowing that it would've been impossible, and for him to push himself even more? It would've made her prior actions forfeit. ]
no subject
He's mostly confused. Confused that she feels any dread, confused that she seems to have wanted two different things from him — to protect her and to have stayed back, somehow at the same time. It's. It's weird?
But there's also a sense of dawning understanding from him. That he'd upset her. That she's still upset from it. He's over it (or at least he thinks he is, which is kinda good enough on its own), but the fact that she isn't is sobering, and it leaves Amos silent for a while. Probably long enough to assume he's fallen asleep, except for the way his mind keeps turning over her emotions, trying to parse through them.
Finally, ] Sorry.
[ Now he has something else to apologize for; something he figures she'll appreciate a hell of a lot more, at least. Amos heaves a sigh, absently brings a hand — that hand — up to his throat, probing gently at fresh scar tissue. Not like he doesn't already have scars, but this one does feel different from all the others he's accumulated. More substantial. ]
Couldn't exactly sit back while they were storming us. I'm feeling it now, but I got no regrets. [ Those are so rare for him to begin with. They're kinda pointless. ] It's alright, you know? I'm fine. Even if I died, you could've just brought me back. It'd have been alright.
[ Fuck, he really wishes he could take her hand in his or something. ]
I'm okay. You don't got anything to worry about. [ He pauses. ] Are you okay?
[ All of his concern is for her; nothing for himself. That'd be a waste, too. ]
no subject
It's not her intention to hide it from him at all - it's more... her own confusion, that keeps her from being able to articulate the feeling well. What he says is true, after all — the way they are now, if they die, they can always be resurrected, so long as their shards are kept safe. That should be a comfort. Logically, she knows that he's right, she shouldn't be upset at all. It's one of the great conveniences of Aionhood, it's something the two of them agree on, in most cases.
But this memory, that memory had changed things. It had reminded her that while dying is reversible here in the physical sense, it might not be in the mental. She can't just let go of this. She understands that indifference he shows, too - has felt it herself - but only now does she see an inkling for why Gen had reacted so strangely when she'd treated the matter of her near death with such a light hand. ]
You remember? How I said my parents were killed...? I was there when it happened... my mom died just like that, right in front of me.
[ Bleeding from the neck, scrabbling against the ground. It's as good of a non-verbal explanation that she can offer for how badly the event had shaken her, and she hopes - no, knows - that Amos will try to understand where this vulnerability comes from. She sniffles once, wiping cold sweat from her brow with her left hand, still keeping her eyes shut and her weight against the wall - she wishes she could turn her head, look at him, but the room's spinning as it is. When she speaks again, her voice finally wavers, on the verge of tears— but not with sad, melancholy ones. The strain in her voice comes from an aged animosity, impatience, worn down by her exhaustion, like a furious animal tired out from a struggle. No, she isn't okay. The remnants of her genuine and heartfelt fear for him in that moment have all evolved into a deep, deep resent for the culprit. ]
I know you're okay... but it feels like it happened again. You know? I was scared. [ Her voice cracks. ] He got away with it, too.... I couldn't do anything to stop him...
[ And he needs to be punished. Someone she cares about being so brutalized, only for the would-be killer to walk free, just as it had unfolded before. Just as she had explained to him before— that Kira had had to intervene for the killer to even face justice. She feels like she's been sent back to the way she felt right after her parents' murder, really, struggling against grief and rage and injustice all simultaneously. Amos may forget it, may move past this. But she won't. She won't ever forget what that man, that Ernesto Salas did. Not until she makes him pay for it. ]
no subject
Even if Amos couldn't take in all of her feelings, even if they didn't have that connection between them, he wouldn't try to downplay everything she's going through right now. The memories he's inadvertently drudged up—
No. This one isn't on him, actually. Because beyond the general desire to kill Ernesto for nearly killing him — a basic tit for tat — Amos doesn't really hold anything against him. Misa's own rage, though, exhausted as it is, is something he understands clearly, feels clearer than any other emotion he can pick up from her. Part of him wants to join her in it, so a part of him does, rising up to meet her own anger.
Even if they could've just brought him back sooner rather than later, Misa still had to relive that — and that's unacceptable. So he lets her anger feed his own, letting it seep into his voice, low and dangerous. ]
Alright. So we got two people to kill then. [ Like it'll be that easy, especially after they've already been bested once, but... fuck it, right? Fuck them. ] Soon as either of us gets a shot, they're dead.
[ He doesn't even know if he means dead-dead or the less permanent version. The one where the Regent gets Pleroma shards to do with as they will. In this world, normally he'd angle for the latter, but if Misa would rather they simply not exist at all anymore then... yeah. They can do that instead.
He doesn't take his eyes off of her form, a fondness reserved specifically for her mixed in with the flat stare of a killer. It's the sort of contradiction that makes up who he is — an indifference for just about everyone, but if it's his people getting hurt, then that can't stand. And this is a hurt that should go beyond comprehension. The fact that it doesn't, the fact that Misa now knows it as well as she does, is just. It's why they're here. ]
We're gonna make a world where that can never happen to anyone again, too. So it'll be okay.
[ Even if it's not right now. That's not a reassurance — it's a promise. ]
no subject
Oddly enough, beneath all the grief and stress over the last five days, she finds herself... relieved, hearing these words from him, and the reassurance in his voice. Relieved to be understood so easily. She meets his eyes over the space between them finally, taking in the dichotomy of his fondness and his coldness— and she accepts it wholeheartedly. It doesn't frighten her at all, nor does she find it strange. If anything, it feeds in to her own simple, cut-and-dry conclusion that the two of them deserve to die. She's like him, after all. She can think this coldly about cutting short another life, but it doesn't diminish the warmth she can feel for others, for him especially. Maybe that's why they're both Lovers. ]
....Y-Yeah. You're right... let's get them, next time...
[ Her voice still sounds watery, her heart clenching at those words — a world where that can never happen to anyone again. It's perhaps the most comforting thing he could have said in the moment, bringing her back down to Earth and to all her connections with the mission she's worked so hard for since before Horos. A few stray tears fall from her eyes, but she's quick to catch them with the bend of her wrist, expelling more and more of her pent up dismay the more she lets herself cry.
In the new world, no one will suffer the way they have. That is the most important thing, the thing to keep her eyes trained on. As long as he's alive, as long as they can punish those that need to be punished... she doesn't need to be so upset. He's right.
She's glad for the empathic connection between them— she doesn't have to work so hard to convey the genuine feeling of a thank you to him - she doesn't even have to say it aloud. Because it's there, a soft, vulnerable gratitude, enduring and bright underneath the fray of her bitterness and upset, clear in the tether between them both. No, instead of trying to say anything close to that, she gives a particularly loud sniffle, her breath hitching a bit as she attempts to not break down in earnest, the heel of her palm now half-scrubbing and half-covering her face. ]
I'm sorry for annoying you before...
[ It's a little comical, the way she chokes out an apology for that through tears, but she's nothing if not good at cutting tension in a room, whether it's by accident or on purpose. ]
no subject
It's almost a stunning feeling, realizing that his emotions line up with hers; feeling the relief she feels at it. He isn't sure if he'd call what he's feeling in response a relief of his own. It's more a warmth — an immeasurable, for him, affection that he's making her feel better, and all just by being himself.
That's not supposed to happen. Not with him being the way he is. He's supposed to be cut off, isolated, living on the margins of society. He's been fine with that his entire life. Just the way things shook out for him. And yet, turns out that isn't how things had to be. Turns out he was capable of making a genuine connection after all. Turns out there are other people who can be like him, and they don't have to go through life alone.
He never wants to let this go.
Amos watches her. Would get up to hold her if he could, but since that's not an option, all he has is this. It's okay if she cries; it's okay for the both of them to feel that strongly about this. He opens himself up in full to her gratitude, and in return, she might get a sense of the emotions he's kept buried under layers and layers of nothing — ones he isn't even aware of. At first glance, he probably shouldn't be a Lover; underneath all of it is proof of why he is.
It aches slightly in that soft, regretful way that almost feels nice — feels human — when you lean into it when she apologizes to him, and his expression softens. They aren't killing anyone any time soon, so he doesn't have to think about that right now. All there is is continuing to make Misa feel better. ]
It's okay. Just wasn't expecting it is all. [ He'll still take her apology completely straight. She said it for a reason, and he has no desire to try to downplay that. ] Turned out it was a good thing you did that, so. It's okay.
[ A beat. ]
Sorry I got annoyed. I don't know where that came from.
[ Well, he kinda does, but everything that had come after? Like the annoyance was a mere harbinger of something much stronger? That, he's truly clueless about what happened there. ]
no subject
As long as you weren't mad for real...
[ Someone getting annoyed with her, she could handle (read: ignore), but actually, really upset with her? That's hard for her to leave alone, when it's someone who's close. ]
I only wanted to help you. I thought, you might be in less pain if I did something...
[ And be able to fight better, if the wound was stopped in time. That, and she has little sense for how much a person can bleed before it begins to affect their physical performance - naturally, she assumed it was better to prevent him from bleeding at all, if possible. Inwardly, she's aware that Amos can endure much worse than a deep cut to the arm, but still.... she couldn't help but want to make something easier for him, with whatever methods she had at her disposal. He endures too much, in all matters, it feels. ]
But there was probably nothing we could've done. [ Misa drops her arm from her face, eyes red rimmed, but clearer than they were before. It's a waste of time to talk about the could've, would've should'ves, right? Even if she hadn't gotten in Amos's way, she thinks things would've ended up like this, anyhow. There's only how to go forward from here. ] There were two of them... did you see? That dogboy was just the distraction.
no subject
[ He was something for real, but it'd been cut off when his throat had gotten cut, bleeding out of him along with everything else. That's all in the past, now; he can't fathom actually being mad at Misa. It's incomprehensible. She has to know that, and thanks to their shared legacy, she probably does.
He has to pause, though, because everything else she's saying is only bringing up more questions on his end. He remembers what happened that morning — remembers it too well, maybe — but it's only now that some pieces just aren't fitting together, and his brow furrows at the thought. ]
You mean Ernesto. His name's Ernesto. [ Just in case she doesn't actually know, but that's beside the point. ] I didn't see anyone else. I just saw him. I was busy fighting him, I guess... Busy trying to kill him.
[ A longer beat. ]
I wasn't in pain. I mean, I was, but it wasn't important. I don't mean like, I deserve to be in pain kind of thing — [ he's not a Martyr — ] but more like I could ignore it. It was a non-factor. It wasn't stopping me at all.
[ The only thing that did was what should have been a killing blow, and even then, he remembers he'd had the ability to go on a couple of steps anyway. Now that he's thinking about it, it's a little disquieting; any emotions Misa might be picking up from him end up subdued at the thought, like trying to see something through a thick fog.
It's a security blanket, and he lets himself fall back down on his own bed properly. ]
If I'd killed him that might've stopped them. Might've been able to stop the other one, too. No use crying over spilled milk, but if I'd been a little better that might've been enough.
[ So, you know, damn. And, an afterthought: ] I gotta get back to learning magic.
[ That might've given them the edge they'd needed; if anything, his time here the past few days has taught him he needs to rely on more than just his strength. The rules here are different, and it's time he adapts. Properly. ]
no subject
The other one, Akua, she's good with magic... and Rand is, too. It's hard to fight against someone like that without magic of your own. We need a better strategy next time, that's all...
[ She says, agreeing with his sentiment that it's best for him to practice. In hindsight, she should've thought of a better strategy to use her power from afar, or disabled Rand, or found Akua first... only experience in situations like this will make decisions like that more obvious to her in the future, she's sure. Unless she does that, this head-on stuff will feel out of her league no matter how she slices it.... maybe a difference in experience is what sets them apart. In any case, Amos's own mellowness helps soothe her, brings her back to (moderate) equilibrium, though her voice still comes out meek when she continues. ]
Have you always had to fight like that since you got older? [ She already knows about the past, but now that she thinks about it, she has to wonder just how normal this kind of situation is to him. It's possible it's just leftover from his childhood, though there's reasonable chance such strife followed him to adulthood, too. Does that have anything to do with him being able to endure it? Or does it have more to do with the lingering mystery clouding his emotions? ] I thought you like... did more computers and building stuff.
[ Sure, he's jacked, and knows how to build (and fire?) a gun, but ever since she found out he was a space engineer, her image of him has been that he just... she doesn't know, welded stuff on the ship? And maintained weapons, maybe? It's not like he was fighting aliens day in and day out, was he? ]
no subject
[ No matter how quick someone might be, a proper shot from the kind of weapon he's used to is hard to beat. There's a sense of grumbling from him, both for his own misfortune and the fact that Misa had been shot, like that helps prove his point.
He should probably go back to the Machining Guild again while he's here. As soon as he's feeling better, probably. See how far along things are.
But anyway. If his presence is helping Misa, then he should sort himself out; it's always easier to operate when you know you've got a plan of action. And he's got one now, so things'll be fine.
Amos' head lolls to the side to look at her again at her question, and everything in him softens. His body, finally appreciating the chance to rest, even if the bed can't be anywhere near as comfortable as his own back home in Achamoth; the way she gently asks him bringing up something in him that wants to hold her, shelter her. He knows she knows the worst that's happened to him, has seen some of the worst he's doled out, knows exactly what his hands have already done and will continue to do — but.
She still accepts him for everything he is, and he knows his level of care for her is reciprocated.
Fuck, he'd tell her just about anything at this point; as soon as he's good enough to get up, as soon as she's good enough to receive one, he is going to hug her like nothing else. ]
I tried to.
[ There's a degree of fatigue to his voice, not because of the toll of recovery, but because everything she's giving him is something that had been hard for him to come by in the past. Only up until a few years ago, really. ]
Ships need mechanics, and I'm a good one. But when you're on a ship, you need to make sure the crew gets along. Good morale is as important as anything; otherwise you got people getting on each other's nerves in a pocket of air with no way to get away from them, usually for months on end.
[ He pauses for maybe a little too long. ]
There're people who can tell when there's something wrong with someone. They got some kind of sense for it. Hell, I got it sometimes. But, you know, with everything that happened to me when I was a kid... I made it to space when I was fifteen. Literally the day after I killed Oestra and Burton; you saw that. Didn't even have time to sleep, it happened pretty quick. So there were people who caught on to the fact that I was broken. And I didn't exactly have the greatest reactions to them. You see a threat and you kill it, right? So I can be a good mechanic, get a good job on a good ship, but if someone tries to start shit with me I'm going to kill them. Or at least knock them out... People don't really like that kind of thing, turns out.
[ But it's instinctual for him. He'd still do it. Amos sighs; lets his arm fall over the side of the bed, like that's one way of physically reaching out to her even though it's not really an option right now. ]
So then you develop a reputation, get jobs on crap ships with crap people, and then they try to start shit and you gotta keep moving around... I mean, I did. It was fine. Just a part of life until I met someone willing to take a real chance on me. Naomi. And then it stopped, because I had someone in my corner for the first time since I'd been on Earth.
[ A beat. He loves Misa so much; she isn't someone who will guide him, and she isn't someone he needs to guide, but just this feeling of equality is more than enough for him. ]
But fighting's kinda baked into me. You don't fight, you die. I don't know any other way to live and I'm probably never gonna. Especially when I got so much to fight for here.
[ Their mission from the Regent, primarily. It's so unfathomably important, and Amos knows he has to help see it through.
But while it's not like this is the first time he's had people to fight for and protect... they remain a hell of a motivator, too. ]
no subject
But here, it's almost as if hearing this from him changes the person in front of her - puts him in a different light. It paints a different picture. ]
Sounds kinda lawless.... jeez. [ Her shoulders slump, readjusting herself to lean against the wall more comfortably. ] People in my time, we never think of people being in space acting like that, starting problems all the time.
[ It was always clean, neat ships, with only the smartest people in the world aboard. But it sounds as if the world in space was just as, if not more complicated and corrupt as the one on Earth. She doesn't doubt for a second that any and all altercations he might have started would have been warranted; still, it doesn't change the fact that the description sounds like.... a tumultuous, dangerous world to live in. At least someone finally took a chance on him, and he wasn't always stuck in such a loop of getting brought to different ships— that, she's grateful for. ]
Like, I guess I thought... I don't know, that in the future, the world would be a better place. People wouldn't have to fight so much. I told you about Kira. Wars were stopping, less and less people committed crimes...
[ But things like what happened to Amos still happened, didn't they? And his life still came down to having to fight to survive? Of course the original Kira could have never survived all the way to Amos's time, but had the Death Notes on Earth just fallen into wicked hands? They failed to build a peaceful, just world, for generations of humans then, right? Her eyes close, contemplative, finally feeling a shred of regret for what she feels like is a failure. ]
But I guess you had to struggle all the time, anyway. I wish things were different.
[ Even if it made him stronger in the end, and able to deal with more and more violent and stressful scenarios, she can't imagine that was any fun way to live life. And now, they're at a war of the end of the world. Much as she knows personally how having a purpose can make it much easier to endure the stressors in their life, she can't help but wish life had been kinder to him, somehow. ]
no subject
Yeah. I wish they were different, too. Maybe that we had a Kira of our own. [ It's... it's nice to think about. Even if he probably would have been someone that would have caught Kira's attention in a bad way... well, he can't say it wouldn't have been deserved. ] We had what, a couple hundred years between us? And other than the part where people lived in space where I'm from, it doesn't sound like things were all that different.
[ He'd tell her all about it, if she ever asked. Stories about his apprenticeship on Luna, the different ships he'd worked on. Stories of fending off pirates and navigating one's way through the wild west, a place that technically had laws but the vast distance that is space making them borderline unenforceable. All of it; stories to pass the time whenever they need it. That part of his life is effectively over, but that doesn't mean he can't reminisce with someone who might like hearing about it.
But it is what it is. Or, hopefully, it was what it was. ]
That's why we gotta see things through here, right? [ An attempt at a soft smile. At something trying to be comforting. Encouraging. ] If things aren't gonna change on their own then we just gotta get it done here. Help the Regent. And then we don't gotta worry about anyone struggling ever again.
[ It's been too late for him for a long time. Maybe too late for her, too. But it's a really good thing that they're trying to do — make sure it doesn't have to be too late for everyone who comes after them. ]