queenofheartsrp | [ 1st ~ Video Post ] ~ here, there be spoilers

[ 1st ~ Video Post ] ~ here, there be spoilers

[A woman stands elsewhere in the Gardens, sporting a formal white dress. Or, at least, it is mostly white. Judging by the splatters on her neck, it should be pretty clear that the red is certainly not part of the dress.

Her gloved, bloody hand briefly comes up to her chest, as realization has flooded across her visage, before covering one of the fresher wounds over her abdomen. She moves away from the Vine, as communicating through such a mean is a very alien concept to her.]

“I think I would like a status report, but somehow I get the feeling that the answer is an obvious one...”

[Funny. For a woman who had been shot full of bullets, she seems to be getting by just fine. The pain is brief. Just a flesh wound. She’ll walk it off.]

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Mn. [She adverts her eyes for a moment. It's a lot for her to take in—she finds it hard to look at her friend's face, even though it wasn't that long ago she had said her farewell to her ('Thank you.'). Something inside her stirs, an unexplainable feeling; not like one that was similar to before she turned into the creature (a sudden loneliness tugging at her - something digging it's claws into her from the inside), it was a very familiar feeling.]

[One she hadn't felt since before that snowy day where she watched her friend turn to her with a smile, where she stood outside the doors of that church, before everything had toppled over and smashed to the ground like a mirror.]

[Unlike Rebecca, Aya had come back home.]

Let's find each other first. Then we can get you out of that dress and into something more comfortable. [As if nothing had ever changed between them, Gabrielle tilted her chin up just a bit; that same mysterious glint in her eyes.]

[Aya nods, then looks down at the gun in her hand. It feels strange, holding this thing now after everything is said and done; remembering the last glimpse of life was this same exact gun firing; piercing her chest.

The memory returns for a moment, but only briefly, as she perishes the thought and looks back up at Gabrielle's reflection in the image.]

We'll do that first, then. It looks like we might be in the same area, anyway. Just give me a second...

[Easier said than done, really. This dress wasn't exactly made for running around in a garden, surrounded by all these animals. As damaged as it is, however, Aya sees no point in trying to preserve its current state. With reluctance, she kneels over and rips the lower hems of the dress, so not to trip over herself while checking out her surroundings.

She sighs, and stands upright, still holding the ripped hem in her hands.]

There.

[Gabrielle watches Aya tear the dress and sighs. Even though it's covered in blood and the irony of such a beautiful dress that matches the setting is ruined, Gabrielle still can't help but thing that something so beautiful was easily being destroyed.]

I can't believe you just did that! [Her tone is a bit scolding, but she still smiles at her friend. It feels natural—like the sniper rifle in her arms, the trigger on her finger, and the enemy in the scope—something she had missed, something familiar that wasn't hard to fall back into.] I'm not sure how big this garden is exactly, but it can't be that hard to find you. After all, my reputation does precede me.

[At first, Aya had a hard time believing it, too. But the moment alone, as beautiful as it was, shattered in a rain of bullets is a far more heinous crime against that beauty than the blood stains and tatters done to a wedding dress. If only she could just take it all back and start over...

Still, she finds Gabrielle's scolding tone to be amusing.]

It isn't like this dress has any meaning to me here. It'll only get in the way.

[Well, at least she can move her ankles more freely again. That's always a plus.]

I'll hold you to that. I wouldn't expect much help from the animals, that's for sure. They've been nothing but cryptic with me.

Someone here told me that the birds will fix your hair, maybe if you're lucky the deer and mice will be able to clean up your dress.

[Of course, the image of Aya being surrounded and helped by animals is enough to make Gabrielle laugh. The faint memory of the dresses fabric underneath her hands, sliding the zipper up, making sure that there were no free stands of Aya's hair as it was pulled into a bun, ran through her mind. A small, anxious part of her couldn't help but be excited to see the woman she had grown close to once more. With years between them (how long had it been for Aya?), she imagines she would have so much to tell her friend... if it had been any other situation, at least.]

Mn, we'll be able to sort this whole ordeal out once we meet up. I'm sure of it. [She pauses for a moment, as if she is going to say something... but holds it back.] I'll see you soon.

...

[The mental image isn't as amusing to Aya as it is to Gabrielle. Okay, maybe a little, but just not for her. The idea of letting animals get near her to fix up her hair is a little too out of her element, too strange even for Aya. She shakes her head.]

Thanks but no thanks.

[She catches that brief moment, but doesn't say anything. If only because Aya's holding back on a lot, too. After all, so much has happened. She knows it, senses it.

Silence.]

See you...

[Don't mind Aya, she'll just be ambling around, getting the scope of her surroundings until she and Gabrielle cross paths once again.]

[It takes nearly every part of Gabrielle to walk away from the Vine, but she knows that Aya is here and that she has a second chance for everything. Even in an unfamiliar place that doesn't have skyscrapers towering over them, but rather sunlight pouring through the trees and woodland creatures peeking through bushes and shrubs, she's more concerned with finding her friend.]

[Along the way, though, she seems to take on another friend. The white cat, who seems just as mysterious as the others, peers at her with two different color eyes—while neither of them say anything to greet each other, the cat seems to take a liking to following her down the paths of the Gardens.]

[The cat doesn't stay on her mind for long, as she spots the familiar white dress; torn and splattered, but the woman in the dress looking no different than how Gabrielle last remembered her. Strong, confident—a woman who knew her past, who knew Gabrielle. Memories rush back to her: dinners in the city, the warm Manhattan summer nights, frigid winter mornings, the instruction of how one keeps their finger on the sniper rifle trigger—]

Aya. [The woman calmly walks up to her; the white cat decides to stay behind and watch.]

[Aya is tired, but her perseverance keeps her standing; keeps her walking. She's always been strong, always been so depended on. She doesn't dare bring down that self-image for even a split second, wounded or not.

By now, it's at least just blood. She's still sore, but it's only pain. Relax. She'll live. She managed to walk away in worse conditions than this. She even managed to surpass death. A few scrapes is nothing to her.

She turns her head to the sound of that voice, and her heart leaps in her chest as she straightens. She holds back any exaggerated reactions--no squeals of joy or enthused reactions. As far as her friends are concerned, Aya has only seen them a few moments ago. Not trapped within the walls of Time Zero. When she speaks to greet her friend, she does so with an peculiar sense of serenity:]

Hello, Gabrielle.

[It has been so long.]

[It's an odd setting to find themselves in; the two women, who had been used to battle and conflict, used to being surrounded by tall buildings and flashing lights, were now in the eerily quiet surroundings of a garden. Full of talking animals, painted flowers of reds and violets, warm sun (it feels as if winter's remained for ages to her).]

[Gabrielle looks the woman over, noticing the stains more closely now. It was obvious that Aya would recover easily from these wounds, but even she knew that waking up here meant leaving them. Gabrielle knew that feeling far to well—being left behind without a choice—but even with knowing that, she can't help but feel relieved to see her friend here. Alive. Or rather, as alive as one can be when waking up in an Enchanted Garden.]

It's— [She pauses, trying to find the right words.] I've missed you.

[Now... More like a punch to her gut.

A forced laugh:]

It hasn't been that long, has it?

[Admittedly, she's relieved. Even if she very well may have left those she holds dear far, far behind, Gabrielle is okay. She looks okay. So she's got to be fine. And Aya is fine. They're all fine. Everything's going to be okay. That's what she keeps telling herself. Shrug it off. Trudge forward. It'll be all right.]

No. [It's partially the truth. She's seen Aya every day ever since the Twisted appeared, but even then, Gabrielle knew. The amnesia riddled woman who helped change the past wasn't Aya, she was the young girl who admired Aya. Who Gabrielle had met many times before. Even when the little girl couldn't remember who she was, Gabrielle knew from the very start that it wasn't the woman who is standing in front of her right now.] It hasn't.

We should start looking for some better clothes for you. [She presses her lips into a smile.] I'm sure the chances of them having a locker full of outfits in a place like this is pretty nigh.

[She nods. Although she can't say for certain just how much Gabrielle remembers (some of it? all of it?), the present hardly seems like an appropriate time to bring the topic up for discussion.]

I would hope so. I'd hate to judge a book by its cover, but it doesn't look to me like there's a shopping mall anywhere around here.

[Not that she's seen much beyond the Gardens. Yet.]

From what I've heard, formal parties tend to happen here quite a few times... so there's bound to be somewhere to get clothes. [She crosses her arms, tilting her head just a bit.] Ones that suit your figure more, as well.

Parties?

[And Aya isn't even all that much of a party girl.

She then quirks a brow at her friend. On the subject of her clothes, Aya of course never saw anything wrong with her personal wardrobe. ~~Eve's, on the other hand...~~]

Are you implying something, Gabrielle?

All I'm implying is that you've got a good figure for a woman your age! You should at least wear something a bit nicer than just a baggy t-shirt and jeans.

Just... not bikinis or something resembling a Playboy bunny.

[Cue further eyebrow raise.]

Why would I wear a Playboy bu...

Never mind.

Anyway, there's nothing wrong with t-shirts and jeans. I just prefer practicality over fashion most of the time, that's all.

[She scoffs.] You of all people should know that someone can be fashionable and still be practical, Aya. [It's clear that she's talking about herself. After all, she thinks she faired pretty well in her dress and heels during the past three years.]

I'm not saying that you have to go around wearing a dress, I'm just saying that you would look a lot better in... less baggier clothes.

Since when are skinny jeans baggy? This dress has got to be the "baggiest" thing I've sworn. Seriously, you could fit a circus in this thing.

[Or that's where she assumes the problem lies. You can take away her wardrobe, but Aya will never give up her big jackets!]

[Gabrielle sighs once more, then steps forward to place her hands on Aya's shoulders. Her fingers hovering over the bloody shoulder, barely touching it. Gabrielle's certainly not afraid of blood, but she keeps a distance—and she's not very sure why. The tips of her other fingers gently press against the skin of Aya's clean shoulder.]

The jeans are fine, but couldn't you at least wear a better top that isn't an ill-fitting t-shirt? You're a woman, not a nun.

[She tilts her chin up.] And for what it's worth, even if you could fit a circus in this dress, you have to admit it still looks beautiful on you.

[Aya stiffens for a moment at the touch. Briefly, she almost forgets that this woman is not just another figment repeated in the loop--another victim to circumstance. She is here. She is real. They both are. But in spite of all that, Aya can't shake this feeling: She is distant. Quiet. Cold. Almost like she had really died, after all. Felt it. Gripping her. Tearing her away. She can't escape it.

Breathe.

Pretend.]

You never know. Maybe full burkas are the next "in" thing.

[As if everything is absolutely normal.]

Thanks. I couldn't have asked for a better pick.

Edited 2011-04-21 02:19 (UTC)

[Gabrielle says nothing at first, only smiles at her friend. Her eyes slowly travel down the bloody garment, but this time, she's not focusing on the dress itself but rather, the person in it. Aya's skin underneath her fingers feels surreal—her physical being had been there for the past three years, she had been facing it every day—as if she hadn't had human contact in years.]

Aya, I h— [Her words (which are seemingly important) are interrupted by a rustle in one of the bushes next to them. When she turns to see what it is, Gabrielle feels on onrush of annoyance to see the white cat, that followed her here, sticking it's head in the shrub—tail waving furiously—as if it has found something important.]

[Aya shifts, distanced by the surreal feeling that she hasn't even felt as though she's been inside of her own body for a very long time. As Gabrielle touches her, the surface of the bride's skin still feels as cold as ice.

Her attention traverses from Gabrielle to the cat emerging from the bushes. Aya turns her head to meet its gaze, finding something rather unsettling about the creature.]

There are too many damn animals in this place.

[And Aya obviously isn't one for pets.]

It followed me here. [She says with a tone of annoyance. She's not sure whether she is relieved or angry that the creature disrupted the conversation. It's not that she dislikes animals; she's actually very fond of them, but she isn't in the mood to deal with the cryptics of the white cat.] I'm not very sure why.

[Her lingering touch ends as she pulls away from Aya—as if the moment that just happened is a dream and nothing more.] I suppose we should start looking for those clothes now.

I wish it didn't.

[Aya hasn't wasted much of her time and energy dealing with the local woodland creatures, let alone talking to them.

With a sigh, she picks up her dress, the torn pieces still in her grip (the handgun tucked away in the fabric and out of sight), and decides to start walking in the opposite direction of the cat.]

I've been told that there are places that provide spare clothes. Think that'll be my first stop.

[For a moment, she says nothing—she keeps her eyes trained on the woman (her friend) in the wedding dress she helped pick out—a sense of emptiness washes over her, but Gabrielle chooses to ignore it. Glancing over her shoulder, she sees the white cat once more, sitting there with it's tail wrapped around itself. The two different colored eyes peer at her from the sunlight.]

Alright. [She turns away from the cat and begins to trail behind Aya.]

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