piers | 02. most love like hunters

Yeah, but I don't like settling for less. Most of the time, anyway.

[ For all his usual brilliance and casual charisma--the weight of someone who doesn't take no for an answer, Shouta remains neutral, content to gauge and follow. Because when he watches her expression he thinks it's fitting that she is called Lightning; whether chosen or given to her, it's ridiculously apt.

(You could spend your whole life looking and you'd never catch all its colors.) ]

So, what's got you looking worse for wear? It's not like you to get bored.

[ the captain's easiness and consistency are a blessing to the tides that rise around her. everything's changed, stopped, and changed again. back and forth, repeat, reform, this time for worse than for better.

nothing ever returns to the way it had been before. is that the lesson being taught?

she shakes her head softly, looks down before letting that trademark frown wrinkle her brows, and she folds her arms not long after. }

Not bored—stuck. [ an answer quickly followed by a flash of her eyes flicking up to his and that old challenge shines there, the vibrance of her will. ] What about you? Not like you to look so serious.

Now there's a problem that won't do anybody any good. [ He appraises each strike that her eyes make against him, weighs them carefully. Shouta knows best that adaptability didn't always guarantee flexibility, or long-term tolerance. Raging seas, no matter how tumultuous, eventually come to fathom the rocks that faithfully oppose them, after all.

Maybe he's not there yet, but wasn't time one of the things they still had left to their names? ]

And is that a roundabout way of asking me how I am, perhaps? Seems an awful lot like it.

[ It bleeds in like so much sunlight, his cavalier sense of openness. ]

[ the ex-sergeant nearly grimaces at the brightness. she isn't a creature of the night, but she isn't like her pulse-born friend vanille either. she is made of sunlight. (all the more reason to bring her back...somehow.)

lightning's shoulders heave with a sigh, and her lids drop to form a picture of disbelief, but she can return the fire. ]

Are you stalling? Looks like it. [ ...but for the sake of their friendship, she relents. she always does, when someone gets on her good side. ] —How are you, captain?

[ All the more reason for him to make it dig, make that precocious use of light count. It gives her nothing to hide behind, but she's a quick one, and he hasn't made a habit out of underestimating her. ]

Not bad, thanks for asking. [ Pure cheek. He could make a big deal out of her surrender, but he doesn't. ]

Now. Stuck, huh...

[ thanks, bro. 'preciate it, 'cause she's mighty frustrated enough with her own situations as is. she huffs and drops her arms, shifting her weight as she lifts a hand to her waist. ]

I'll give you "attempting to correct timelines" and leave the rest to your imagination. Are you really "not bad"?

Really. You don't believe me? [ Navigating people is a pasttime with a good payoff. ♥ Even stormy waters, so to speak. Shouta remains rooted and contemplative. ]

As for your timelines, that'd take a lot of imagination on my part, but nowadays it's not so hard to believe in things like that either.

[ she just gives him a look. lightning knows he's not one to crack under pressure, but maybe she's been alone to long to be suspicious—or perhaps simply eager to make sure everyone's all right since she's had no certain way of knowing how things would end. the ability to see all timelines only meant seeing all the possibilities. truth, then, becomes subjective.

too much time, too many mistakes—even the ever-powerful lightning farron doubts herself.

her expression softens with a touch of that doubt and the sorrow that comes with helplessness. ]

...To be honest, I never believed in this stuff myself until I was chosen. Being branded, fighting against the world and defying fate— I thought that was enough. We all did. But then, chaos took advantage of our happiness and ripped it away.

[ she pauses; then laughs soundless and dry in spite of herself. ]

Kind of like Sphere, but even that was lighthearted.

Oh, scary. [ Had he less constitution, the level of her gaze probably would have been just that. That bright, cool, unforgiving blue. Shouta shrugs smoothly in light of those, shifting on his feet. There was more to her than time and enigmas, if you cared to try and lift the gruffness. ]

Funny, I'd always pegged you as a believer. Looks like I was off the mark on that one. [ The way he says it is infinitely off-handed--it could have been a quip, but there is just enough of an edge lurking in his tone to indicate he might have believed it, too. ]

Is your happiness what you're trying to remember?

[ Is that what time, also, has stolen? ]

[ she hears it but says nothing. she isn't all too surprised. at some point in a career like theirs, they lose sight of what's important. it's normal. what matters is who else becomes involved.

she'll come back to it eventually.

is it? she wonders. every bad joke he's making makes her want to laugh—but she doesn't. his questions grounds her, and she feels as heavy as she did the moment she landed on the shores of valhalla.

lightning stalls a minute or two (she can't count time anymore), traces the stark outline of his uniform, the frivolous curves of his hair, pinpoints the coordinates of his beauty mark. (yes, she does have an eye for detail, thanks.)

what is happiness to her? winning the war? seeing everyone safe? she'd felt that, she'd touched it, that day they awoke upon pulse after cocoon nearly collapsed, but—

how can she protect when all she knows to do is destroy? ]

I remember it. It's everyone else that has forgotten—everyone but my sister. Serah... [ she looks down, turning away. her pain is obvious. ] Again. I've let her down again. And this time...

[ stop. a wry smile wrinkles pinches her eyes, and for the first time ever she exposes a fragment of perdition to someone else. ]

Look at you, getting me to talk.

[ still, lightning is nothing but dignified, and she straightens, folding her arms again and raises a brow cheekily at shouta. ]

Is it your turn yet?

[ It's some kind of unofficial talent that he has: cracking people open and catching what trickled out. Even if mundane methods like these lazy circles weren't especially his favorite. Still, take a gun to a powder keg and all you'd end up with was a mess, so he goes on, temperate and dynamic. ]

What a face. [ He's partly sympathetic, and yet genuinely warm. Humanity was something he'd always liked, though he might say differently, if asked. Shouta exhales like a veritable puncture to the air around them. ] Time isn't always the kindest thing you're going to deal with when you're trying to remember enough for everyone. You're the one that ends up trapped in the end, because it's a hell of a tall order.

Though I'd probably disagree with you on that letting anyone down part.

[ He moves then just to stir the atmosphere, extending an arm as if in invitation. ]

What do you want to know?

What about my face?

[ she means it jokingly, but usually her jokes sound flat and over-serious. at least the effort's there. lightning shrugs one shoulder. talking about feelings isn't really her talent... it'd been hard enough with her sister, when... those times lasted.

(more regrets and motivations. ) ]

Whatever you think's a fair return to what I've told you.

[ whether that's cheating or not to him is something she'll find out. as easygoing as he may seem, lightning knows better than to believe he's got soft skin. ]

Lucky for you, it wasn't an insult. [ He flashes a half-grin. Though short-lived, her vulnerability, just like her humor, didn't escape him entirely. And it's not like Shouta doesn't understand, how time somehow becomes a competitor with more experience and more endurance even for someone like her, a catalyst for motivations that were as unforgiving as they were necessary. ]

I don't think I've got anything so impressive as trying to change fate. Or a cute kid sister in the mix.

There has to be some reason you wear a uniform, though.

[ she studies him carefully, his answers remaining indirect. ]

A purpose to your weapons—an object worth protecting with your life?

[ lightning agrees in her mind that serah is indeed cute, but... thinking about her now only causes a cave in in her heart. it'd been her fault she ran away and her fault she's been trapped by the powers of a dead goddess.

an attempt to lighten her spirits is made in a smirking jab. ]

I can tell you like to handle things on your own, but I don't see you as a loner. Or am I reading you wrong?

[ Each minute that she most likely feels the weight of he is using as a benchmark to her patience. Shouta hums over her appraisal, deep and thoughtful. Lightning's attempt to drag her heart back to the surface is met with equal effort on his part, a humanitarian to the end.

(No matter how paradoxical or ironic that was.) ]

Can't say you didn't hit the nail on the head. You can just think of that last part as Captain's privilege though.

[ Even if it was less about privilege and more responsibility for the lives that flocked to him like moths to a flame. It was his job to make sure that flame stayed steady and warm and safe, not erupt into an inferno, incinerating everything around it.

A balancing act. ]

You're pretty observant, but it's not really an object. [ First, it was a life. When he failed at that, snuffed it out with his own hands, it became something far more abstract. ] Let me ask you one more thing, then I'll tell you my own answer. What does justice mean to you?

[ fire is difficult to control, and sometimes circumstances beyond the imagination arise to contend against life. it takes skill and a strong personality to take the heat.

if not an object, ]

Then a person. [ she goes on, her voice intensifying. ] A people—life.

[ for lightning, it had always been serah that she wanted to protect. becoming stronger and keeping the peace of cocoon meant serah could grow up safely. that had been the plan.

nothing quite goes according to plan anymore.

justice? ]

That's a big question.

[ she wonders what direction he's trying to take this, but already she's guessing it's related to what he needs to be dealing with where he belongs.

law of equity, she thinks militantly. reciprocation of good for good and bad for bad. rewards and punishment where it's due.

but it's more complicated than that, now. scolding is one thing, but what if the innocent is wrongly charged? objectifying the truth is a battle with the potential for war.

lightning said herself before, that if she hadn't been branded by the fal'cie, she too would have been assisting in the purge and sending all those people down to pulse—to death—without a second thought. following orders had been part of her survival.

no longer.

as an army of one, she fights not for her existence but for the restoration of her family's happiness, against gods, time, or fate—whatever it is that distorts the way things should be.

it takes her a while, but she finally answers: ]

To me, it means preserving the truth.

Truth, life. [ The words he repeats sound heavy in his mouth, immense and yet necessary crosses for him to bear whether spoken aloud or in concept alone. ] Some people spend their entire existences looking for the meaning of both of those things. And others go on trying to ignore them, thinking that it'll somehow make things easier on them that way. Not a lot of room for a misstep.

Do you think taking the lives of others in retribution for murder eases the pain of those who have suffered loss any? Killing the killers, in other words.

[ Shouta had said it upon introduction, a long time ago. Out of respect for her demeanor and her rank, no matter how abandoned.

"Special Executions." ]

[ valhalla always seemed to sit within a perpetual storm. thunder clapped, lightning flashed (though it might have been a product of her own magic); the air had always had a charged, damp, and chill quality. a state of constant turbulence.

right now the air around them feels like what it would be before that. something heavy, imminent. perhaps it's the tone in his voice, like something made of mercury; his words drip to the ground and sit there, dull, lame, impenetrable and cracking the ground, sinking her in with them.

or maybe it's the withdrawn shadows in his eyes that enforces it. she knows that expression, a practitioner of disconnection herself.

focus on one goal and see through to it. "nothing else matters."

she'd been in so much pain then that she'd become numb.

lightning, for once, feels like the softer one here.

she remembers his title, his ranking, his body of force. she should have guessed the purpose of it, but she supposes she had other things to think about then.

she reminds herself of her own losses and her own choices. so many she had to harden her heart to accomplish... ]

No, I don't think so. Once someone is dead, you live with their tombstone on your shoulders, but annihilating the criminal—that stops the tragedy from happening again, and should the truth expose their guilt, then—

Whatever it takes to ensure peace, even if it means destroying the hands that raised you.

[ First was the calm, the sharp ozone, the bright fortune of clarity. The chance to run and hide. Then the shadow, the doubt, the cloud cover. Once the storms came--torrential and lacking the capacity to hide, lie, or cheat, for they simply were in all their destruction--nothing was ever the same.

Shouta listens to her as both a Captain and as someone who has banked his life on taking every death personally, even when the first thing they tell you is not to. On believing firepower was the answer to firepower, an eye for an eye, a heart for a heart. A life for a life, no matter how it was wrought and hammered through the judicial system, a journey of courts and broken levies alike.

Rather simply, he replies: ]

I had a partner.

[ An admittance that bears the brunt of all his conviction, once-upon-a-time dashed to pieces. It's a rare thing to leave his lips, but there is something in her that is easy to recall in himself.

Like he might trust her to understand with that hardened heart of hers what it was like to have nowhere else to go but forward. ]

[ that's what it was. a partner. sentenced to death by truth? a tragedy without a doubt.

lightning quiets, but not for too long. she knows how oppressive silence can be, and the last thing she wants to turn this conversation is into a wake. she had torn away empathy from her heart, but the goddess had it restored.

human suffering—emotion—the heart.

the sergeant tries to look into his eyes and to make sure he still has the resolve to continue on. then, gingerly, she lifts a hand to his shoulder and gently squeezes. a soldier's gesture of comfort. ]

...Don't crumble. You wouldn't have done it have you had any other choice. If it was me, I wouldn't want to fall by any other hand.

Edited 2012-11-29 09:44 (UTC)

[ Just like that, the tension recedes from her touch like a powerful wave. He believes true empathy is derived from a capacity only born from lack of it, from that dark place crowded with feelings of indifference or despair--he recognizes it well in her. What it takes to feel again, not only for themselves, but for those who depend on them too.

The only secret he keeps is that he crumbled a long time ago. But he can and will go on. ]

It was an order. But he said something similar. [ Shouta reaches to take her hand from his shoulder, but it's not a gesture of disregard. Instead, he doesn't let go. ] I've spent my life trying to figure out what that meant. The justice of having somebody by your side.

I...

[ the hold flusters her a little. but she allows it because she knows what a touch can mean to someone. it means a lot to her, in this kind of context.

it must mean something to him too, an executioner, to feel the weight of something other than a gun. ]

People need people, and some connections are inexplicable no matter what the consequence.

[ her fingers curl ever so slightly and pink hair brushes her cheeks, hiding parts of her lowered eyes. ]

"You don't know what you've got until it's gone" is a cliché, but it's true. For the longest time, I kept everyone close to me at a distance. I believe that depending on no one, I could provide better for my family... but I was wrong. You lose too much forcing solitude upon yourself.

[ she grips his hand then, looking piercingly into his eyes. ]

So don't do it. There's no justice in punishing yourself.

Edited 2012-12-02 08:28 (UTC)

[ She has a way with making principle--equal parts conviction and belief--look soft. Not the kind that is brittle and easily corrupted, but the kind that treads the footpath to salvation. People like that were rare.

He holds her gaze, blue on fearless blue. When he does close his eyes, it's to take it in rather than force her out.

It's something of a small victory. ]

"No man is an island", huh? While we're reciting clichés. You learn it the hard way, eventually. [ Like he did. He's not even sure that he believes it, entirely, but he'll be an island if it means safe harbor for those close to him. ] It's the stubborn ones who don't that get in the most trouble. Losing your measure of humanity when you think about it in terms of what's just and what isn't makes you no better than a doll.

[ I believe in you much more than that. Black, white, and porcelain. Don't mess it up. ]

Don't lose your way. [ Finally, he retracts his grasp. ] You're not anybody's soldier. Time isn't going to take that away from you.

[ lightning rarely, if not ever, stops to think about her actions or how her words affect people, so she receives his response with mild confusion, feeling she's done something but can't decipher what.

listening to him, she straightens her expression.

no better than a doll, huh? is that what she had become before...

her fingers jolt as he pulls his hand away, forgetting that she'd been holding them the whole time. she grunts lightly as she regathers composure, soldier-like despite his admonition. ]

I know. I fight for myself and for my loved ones alone, for the purpose of bringing us back together again.

[ she halts, realizing it might be a little of an insensitive answer after his telling her he killed his partner... good going. geez. she swings her head down and back up again. ]

You can fight for that too, even only for their memory.

[ Contrarily, most of what Shouta does, no matter how personally or selfishly motivated, is for the sole purpose of affecting others. To draw out the good, the human, the ugly, the desperate and the fulfilled. Dig his hands in and upturn what he could.

The Captain of the Tokkei takes no prisoners.

So her reactions do right by him and all that he stands for; he has an inkling that he might understand them better than she does. ]

What a lucky bunch. [ The friendly audacity he wears so well kindles and roars back to life when he smiles and shifts to scratch the back of his neck, rub away the tension and warm the dose of chilliness she so faithfully administers. ] You'll do it.

As for me, well. Memories... I've got better things to protect than those. People who I know are real. [ Half a lie, rooted in the terrible truth. Hypocrisy at its finest. ] That was what I decided, when I told myself I'd live again.

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