lucetilogs | Let 'em say we're crazy, I don't care about that!

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Let 'em say we're crazy, I don't care about that!

Who: Everyone!
What: The final day. Moonfall. Twenty-Four hours remain. How do you spend it?
When: The 30th, all day
Where: Anywhere
Summary: The last day. The end has come. The moon is coming down and piercing the barrier. Nothing can stop it.
Rating: It will vary.

Details are here. But here's a recap and expansion!

By the time morning hits Luceti, the Moon has begun to breach the barrier, noticeable by how the barrier will fluctuate about the Moon's face in strange ribbons of energy. The oceans and lakes begin to rage as they are caught by the Moon's gravity. The ground begins to quake in an unsettling way. Small and harmless tremors that will slowly intensify over the course of the day. With the Moon already partway through the barrier, it will be noticeable that it is not quite as large as the real Moon. Though quite vast, the Moon itself does is not quite the entire size of Luceti, but is large enough to span the entire village and more. The Moon's angered face does not cease for a moment, even as it becomes the only sight in the sky.

Yet it remains in the sky, slowly breaking through the barrier, and proving indestructible in spite of all that is thrown at it. In the evening it will begin to cause gravitational disturbances, drawing up debris and small objects into the air. When it finally reaches midnight, the bottom of the Moon will be one mile above Luceti. At that point, all will suddenly black out and know no more. What becomes of the Moon? Does Luceti go splat? Will CJ finally get his moon rocks? Stay tuned!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Me? W-What about me?

[Ginia hadn't told Alice about his penalty removal, had she? At the least, it's not a talk he ever remembers the two of them having. But, well, Giles is perfectly prepared to admit that he's not terribly coherent, at the moment.]

I've, I've been better. [The main source of his slowness is an impressive hole through one thigh.] But I've also been worse. And if you've also been worse, do me a kindness and don't mention it.

[Notes, vague notes, but there were notes. Promises to be nice, to night be surprised if he was gone, to not be too surprised if he came back a little off or not remembering them, everything and everything one side could do to help her other side prepare and in some ways, prepare herself for the best and worst. There were notes if only because the only person Ginia could admit her fears to was herself and Alice. She wouldn't dare burden anyone else with her worries.

Alice looks him over, considers a reply, then wisely stays quiet on things that might have been better or worse.]

/She'll be happy you're back./

And I'm happy to be back.

[He gives her a cautious once over, nothing everything from the bruising to the burns to the broken ribs affecting her breathing and oh, good god, that wing...

His voice is soft, hesitant, and maybe a little scared.]

...can you stand?

[The only thing holding her together is pure strength of will, which is much more than the splintered bone, flesh, and muscle keeping the one wing feebly attached to her back. Even if the dead come back to life, she can't die. She just can't.]

/If you help me up, yes./

I can help you stand.

[...he thinks on the actual arrangements for a few seconds, and finally manages to arrange himself that he can support her without her leaning on his more recently wounded shoulder. Then? Up they go. Slowly.]

[Some bruises and burns aside, her legs are probably the most well off. She carefully leans on him and moves up with him, shaky and weak, but still holding on. The clinic is right there, just a few more slow steps.

once she's on her feet, Alice leans carefully on him to catch her breath, head falling down as her chest rises and falls with each laborious breath. One hand falls on her mask, fingers curling slightly under the edge, but she stops.

She'd love nothing more than to be rid of the mask, be able to see the world from beyond the eye holes, but she's afraid. She knows she's only out because of the mask, because of the Malnosso. If the mask is gone, will she be as well, leaving Ginia to face everything?

No. No, she can't let that happen.]

[Giles notes the action. After struggling with that mask, after seeing Helios struggle with that mask, how could he not?

He's slow when he starts on that last few feet towards the clinic, but he's steady.]

...as far as inner darkness goes, Alice, it turns out that you're remarkably tame.

[Alice slowly walks along with him, still thinking on what to do with the mask. It's selfish to want it off because of all the risks, but keeping it on is driving her mad from the feeling of claustraphobia, of being closed in. Funny how that is.

She glances at Giles at his comment.]

/...Inner darkness, is that what this mask is all about?/

...judging from my own far too frequent observations and experiences, that's, um, that's the only real conclusion I can draw.

This mask brings out your darkness. And you never even know that it's happened.

...you might not even remember much of what's happened, once it's off.

[He reaches out to push open the door. It creaks as it opens onto the dark clinic before he hesitantly ventures:]

And if you do take it off...Ginia will come back.

[Clinics. Sterile, crisp clinics. Alice shudders slightly, remembering the hospital examination rooms, later the locked doors and barred windows of her cell in the mental institute. A part of her wants to flee, but she's so tired she can barely go anywhere.]

/Do you think that's what I am? Her darkness?/

[It's an admission that almost hurts to make, though she can't understand why.]

/I want the mask off, but I don't want her to come out. She can't come out. She can't... she can't go through this. Not now. Not even with you here./

[Giles flips the lights on - thank god that the electricity hasn't cut yet - and looks around for a bed to settle Alice on.

Before he can even attempt to think up a relpy, however, a tremor rocks the building - a bad one. Medical equipment rattles on its shelves, the beds shudder on the floor.]

[Alice shuffles with him, wobbling as the tremor throws her off balance. She clings onto him for support and looks around at everything rattling. The moon hadn't been much on her mind; there, a thought and a concern, but she couldn't wrap her mind around it. The world was ending. It was easy to say and think, but what it actually meant was very little to her.

On the plus side, her apathy helped her stay quite calm and focus on herself.]

/The earthquakes are getting worse./

The moon is getting closer.

[He sighs as the tremors subside before carefully loosening his grip on Alice.] The world is ending. Certainly haven't missed that in the slightest.

/So we'll all die and come back to life?/

[Alice glances around the room and finds a nearby chair. Chairs are nice and good, especially when she's already having a hard time staying up without earthquakes going on. She waves a hand at it.]

That's the hope.

[Giles ignores the chair and sits Alice on a bed next to the chair.]

Having just come back from getting my last penalty from dying removed, you can understand if I'm more than a little irritated.

[Beds! Beds are even better. Though unfortunately, with one broken wing and broken ribs, finding any sort of comfortable position is difficult. Alice settles for sitting up.]

/That would suck./ [A pause.] /Sorry./

Don't be. [He sits himself on the bed next to her. At least when the next tremor hits, they'll have some kind of buffer between them and the floor.] Despite the trouble I've managed to get in to since, this was before she arrived.

[She nods, goes quiet again as she focuses on staying awake. She still hurts horribly and she feels light-headed, but she struggles to stay awake.

Her hands come back to grip the mask and pull. The mask has to come off.]

...you would probably be out by now anyway, even without it.

[He's just as concerned for Ginia's well being as Alice is, but...he can sympathize with the feral, trapped desire to be free of a mask, and especially of that mask.]

[Most likely. It's a thought Alice will bank on as she tugs and scrabbles at the mask, struggling to pull it off her face. She's had enough of it. It was fun at the start, but now that she's seen other people with the mask on, now that everyone's gone horribly wrong, she's had enough.

After more struggling, the mask comes free. It tumbles from her hands and clatters onto the ground, landing face up to stare at them.

She's still as she stares at the mask, her hands, looking as if she's seeing everything for the first time. When she looks at Giles, her expression is drawn, tired, worn. Face pale, eyes red from crying, damp tracks along her cheeks.]

[Giles takes a deep breath, steadying himself against the expected assault, before he reaches out and carefully takes the mask from her.

...the pull doesn't come. The bloodied, cracked simply rests in his hand, a battered lump of plastic.

He drops it on the floor and kicks it under the bed. Then he looks back up at Alice, with what might actually be called genuine concern.]

...anything I can, um, anything I can do to help?

[Alice looks over at him, considers asking for healing help, but no, he's injured and bleeding and it wouldn't be fair. Besides, they are at a clinic, even if that idea makes her shudder a little.]

/Painkillers. Anything. Maybe a sling for my wing if you can./

[There's a cracked grin as a thought strikes her and she can't help voicing it.]

/He should have torn it off instead of leaving it dangling. Might have been easier./

[His voice goes hard. The memory of Seto an unwelcome variation on the echoes and memories.]

No, Alice, it wouldn't have.

The last person I had to get over here with a missing wing? Standing wasn't the remotest possibility for about a week. I had to drag them over on a very makeshift sling.

[Even so, he gets up to go and search the shelves for the requested supplies. Thank god they aren't the only ones who decided to stay.]

[Alice tenses at the hardening of his voice, for a moment expecting the worst, but there's only words akin to a firm reprimand. Alice is quiet, chastened, as she tries to make herself comfortable. The pillows and blanket are bundled up for support. She begins to shed her coat before realizing the difficulty of getting it off the wing and leaves it as it is, hanging off her shoulders and one arm still in its sleeve.]

...sorry.

[Said as he takes a careful seat on the bed next to her, passing over a glass of water with one hand and holding a bottle of painkillers with the other.]

But, um, as I'm sure you understand, this...certainly wasn't what I expected to come back and find. All a bit of a shock.

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