AEDOLIS > Haviah

Standby [Lion]

(1/2) > >>

Cheesigator:
When the murk and fog was clear enough, their endless trudging finally ceased.

They looked up and saw what used to be almost as good as Heaven looming over them, lights from the massive city of Haviah barely managing to eek their way through the muck and pollution. It was barely a tiny light in the distance to them, but despite that they both stopped, their hearts falling to the pits of their cold, empty stomachs.

Their minds were connected, they both felt each other's fear and dread. They knew the thoughts racing across each other's minds, but neither one could say something to comfort the other.

"... Come on." She croaked, her voice raspy from disuse the last 24 hours.

The concept of time was lost on them, an ancient memory; they had no idea the day, the week, the month, even the year. They didn't know how long they had been down here, scurrying like rats in the wasteland. The world above had continued on without them, and they both feared the same thing: they had been forgotten.

For Andromeda, it was a resolute certainty. People there would be happy to forget her, happy to think she had vanished. For Adele, it was anxiety-inducing mayhem. They had loved ones up there, loved ones they thought loved them just as dearly, but what if they didn't? What if they forgot?

Would they be able to live if the person they cared for the most had forgotten them and moved on? After everything they had been through, and how fragile their grip was on the sanity they had left, they knew the answer.

The two companions fell back into silence as they trudged forward, long since used to the permanent aches in their limbs, the pain in their backs, the fogginess and sharp pains in their heads.

As they traveled up through the Midhaven, working their way slowly and taking rest breaks to sit and recover (though neither could sleep) it became apparent that they were not like the other people here. They shuffled like walking corpses, others quickly parting and backing away from them, hiding their children. Andy was slightly better off; though she was starving just as badly, she'd always had a solid build and her muscles still remained, despite withering a bit with the lack of nutrition to sustain them. Her most noticeable wound was the bandana tied diagonally around her head to cover the now empty eye socket there. 

Addie, on the other hand, was a zombie.

Their opposite eye to Andy's was missing, their skin melted shut over the hollow socket; their body was thin and frail, and despite the remnants of their lean muscles that clung desperately to their bones it seemed as if a single stray wind would topple them over. They limped, a strange, warped metal prosthetic laced painfully to the stump of their thigh, and their tail, missing several inches off the end, wavered dangerously to help them maintain their balance.

Neither of them were recognized by the guards they approached to a known entrance to the city. As their chips were scanned, Andromeda looked over at Addie solemnly, knowing that this could very well be the last time she ever saw them.

Though they were Pilots, heroes worshipped by the citizens of the country they were sworn to protect, there was no guarantee they would live by coming back. They both knew that when coming here; it had been a topic of long debate between the two--whether or not it was even worth it to return.

As such, they had said their heartfelt and tearful goodbyes long before they reached the guards, and as they were cuffed and placed under arrest and led to separate transport vehicles, their gazes met one last time before they each whispered goodbye in their heads and their psychic connection was cut as agreed upon.

They had done what they could for each other. There was nothing more they could do, now.

Andromeda was surprised by the single cold, wet tear that welled up in her eye at the thought of losing who she thought of as her first and only friend.




The Axis Point was every Pilot's worst nightmare. The torture that was practiced there was unlike any other; they'd both heard that there was less pain the less you resisted, but being forced to relive every single painful memory in excruciating detail, sometimes over and over again all for the sake of their cruel analysis was enough in and of itself to drive Pilots mad.




Addie wasn't sure if they should consider themself lucky or not; the pain in their chest from the excruciating fear, anxiety, and dread felt like it would kill them. They were already overwhelmed and the moment the interrogation began their head felt like it would explode.

They couldn't remember much, and didn't know or feel anything at all as they laid there, ears ringing, the lights so bright they were near blinding, tinted red by something in their eye that someone was frantically trying to rub away. The only thing they knew for sure was the strong taste of iron in their nostrils and in their mouth, and that they felt like they were drowning--but they didn't think they were in any kind of water? Yet they could barely breathe, they felt the texture of liquid, but the taste of the iron was so pungent they could barely focus on anything else.

It went on for so long, drifting in and out of darkness, and their brain was so numb. Eventually it stopped; the red was gone, the iron was gone, the liquid was gone. And they were left there alone, numb, and staring up at the blinding ceiling.

Occasionally they saw the silhouette of someone above them, and heard muffled sounds like someone was talking to them underwater. Eventually, they slipped back into darkness again, and finally everything was quiet.

Lion:
"Hannah," the voice on call was gripped with tension. "It's Addie."

Those words replayed over and over again in his mind on the Rail ride out DoSaM. It was all he could think about to keep himself from going mad. He'd quite the bottle some time ago, in an effort by Yavul to turn him back into the prime Valkyrie he used to be. Hannibal was a Pilot, he'd been reminded many times. The only way to keep on doing your duty was to stop fucking around and do it.

He needed to be strong, just in case. Just in case there was some chance... Just in case Addie never came back. That even if he was alone, and they were dead, he'd be able to carry on. He'd lost people he loved before. This certainly wouldn't be the last time.

Yavul was damn excited, anxious, trying to keep their spirits up as he always did. He was a damn good commander. He considered everyone before himself. They were a bundle of knots. Who wouldn't be on a day like today?

The sun had gone from daylight to evening in a blink of an eye. Hannibal didn't remember entering the ICU where Pilots could be quarantined to their own room. Visitors were kept to one at a time despite the entire squad ready to pounce and get rowdy and tear the goddamn visitor's section apart.

Hannah's heart pounded in his chest like a bomb timer. Each tick twitched his fingers like a gunslinger on the Edani frontier. He saw Addie, they were asleep and when visiting hours were over, he opted to stay behind while the rest left to go get food. Even the DoSaM cafeteria sucked pretty bad.

"You can come visit them tomorrow morning," the nurse said.

"I ain't seem 'em in a long time, Miss. So you'll forgive me if I ignore the rules and stay behind," he said nodding her dismissal. She sighed after a few seconds.

"Well the cafeteria stays open until midnight. I'll get you a coffee. But if you disturb them, that's it you're gone."

"Understood, Ma'am. Thank you."

And she was gone.

Hannibal sat down on the bed next to Addie and took their hand. "You're in a state, ain'tcha Ratkid. Pfft, man, I never thought I'd get a chance to say that again." And he laughed a little, a chuckle that made his voice clench when his throat tightened and tears rolled down his cheek.

Cheesigator:
In the beginning, there was darkness. And the darkness was without form, and void.
And in addition to the darkness there was also me.
It swallowed them whole, comforting and warm. Wrapping around them like a blanket, they felt no pain for the first time in so, so long. It was so nice, they never wanted to leave.

Sometimes in the darkness they thought they heard the sounds of distant murmurs, but they didn't care who they were, who was whispering to them. They didn't matter. None of it mattered as much as this tranquility and peace. Was this what death was like? Had they died? Perhaps it wasn't so bad after all, not something to be afraid of like they'd always thought.

It was nice.

Hours turned to days, days turned to a week, and the week turned into more.

On the 15th day, the darkness suddenly ended. The sounds started slowly fading in, getting louder and more crisp, and before they realized what they were doing they were opening their eyes. Opening their eyes in what proved to be a feat, because they had crusted a bit and their lids felt so, so sluggish and heavy.

They saw the ceiling again but this time they saw it in much better definition; though their vision would never be the same as before, it wasn't like they were completely blind. They blinked, seeing the textures, studying them, while they did a mental checklist to see what was going on, where they were at.

They felt clean, warm, secure. Something they hadn't felt in so so SO long, and it felt so nice. Maybe this was where the nice feeling had come from in their sleep. Their brain sent the impulses to their arms and their fingers twitched; slowly raising a hand, they saw they were covered in small bandages here and there, and that they looked just slightly less thin than when they'd last seen themself. It was very slight, though.

They reached up and their fingertips brushed over bandages, and then what used to be unkempt blonde hair was now soft and combed, and so silky in comparison to how it had been before they almost couldn't believe it.

Finally, they became aware of a kind of tingling feeling at the base of their tail, and realizing they were laying on it, they slowly started to push themself up, careful of the IV taped down on their arm. It was when they shifted that they noticed two things:

First, their leg was gone. Not their leg leg but their prosthetic, the one that Andy had managed to make for them. Frantically they reached forward, patting around the bed for it as if they thought it would magically reappear under the blankets.

And second, as they were patting and looking desperately for their lost limb they saw him: Hannibal.

He was sitting in a chair, next to their bed, head resting on his arms, asleep. But he looked different; he had a beard for one, and for another his head was closely shaven... His nice long hair gone. He almost looked like a completely different person, and if they hadn't paid so much attention to memorizing every feature of him and his body they might not have recognized him at all.

What... Why... How long had they..?

The panic was still rushing through them, the beeping on their heart monitor loud and quick now as opposed to the serene and even pace it had had earlier. All they could do was sit there and stare at Hannah, mouth slightly agape, as they tried to figure out what... What they could possibly do.

Did they wake him up? Where were they? How long had they been here? How long had they been asleep? Where was Andromeda? Were they still Pilots? Was she alive? Why did Hannibal look so different? He hated having facial hair before, and what made him shave his head? Where was the rest of the squad? What--

Lion:
Hannah didn't come back to Solarta on that evening Rail ride. If the Valkyries went back home, he didn't know anything about it. The coffee had sustained him roughly a few more hours before he decided to succumb to sleep. Right there beside Addie, he laid his head, curled up on his arms until he passed out.

He didn't stir until the bed started to move. Someone else was awake and he was beginning to miss the party. Hannah breathed in sharply, lifting his head when the sheets shifted. Addie had sat up and looked horrified to say the least.

Hannibal grinned through the thick beard he'd developed. "Good morning sunshine. The hospital has a nice glow doesn't it," he muttered gruffly. His voice had an edge to it as he cleared his throat from sleeping.  He laid his head back down, keeping his eyes glued to them. "I don't actually know if its morning."

He pat their thigh, half empty. Now he'd have to call them Count Stumpalot. He only hoped they'd take half as well as they might have.

"You look like you had a rough go about it. I'm glad you came back." And his hand squeezed their thigh again, blinking more tears from his eyes.

Cheesigator:
When he woke up too and looked up at them, their breath caught in their throat and the heart monitor gave away the panicked beat of their pulse as it quickened further.

He... He...

They were caught in a mix of elation and horror; elation because they had thought about him constantly, missed him so much, and had never stopped dreaming of seeing him again. Horror because he was seeing them... Like this.

They looked nothing like they did when they first met. The long stubble along their jawline, the rough and shaggy blonde hair that looked like it'd been cut by themself without a mirror (because it had,) the countless scars, the lack of an eye, the lack of an entire LEG. In short, there was barely anything left of them.

Tears started welling up in their eye as they stared at him, vision getting blurry with the salt water.

"H-" They couldn't stop the sob that wracked their chest as they reached forward, their hands trembling as they slowly touched his face and realized this wasn't a dream, this was actually real.

"Hannah," They choked; their voice was rough, like their throat was torn from screaming, and before they knew it they were clinging to him and crying, saying "I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry," over and over again like they thought nothing in the world could ever convince him to forgive them.

Navigation

[0] Message Index

[#] Next page