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Lucrecia ------

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Why Eavesdropping Is A Necessary Evil [02 Jan 2005|03:31pm]
I want to forgive Cloud. I heard his guilt, both of theirs, and I felt my own was shared with it. We're tragic, sad, sorrowful, people. The whole pitiful lot of us. But before I can take the gentle beast, Nanaki's, words to my own heart, it will near impossible to do so for anyone else. No matter how much regret I feel for being unrightfully angry with them all. And that dark shroud of anger slipping to despair is wrapping most heavily around me to the point of blinded ignorance. After all, the past is past. There is a new situation at hand and no matter how much I learn or hear about the past, there is little I could do to help anyone, much less myself, until I catch up with the present. If I could only ignore everything else, then I could catch up so quickly. So what if I was nothing but a woman with no right to be called a mother, a lover, a ghost of a Lucrecia who once existed? Do I really want to become that tragedy of those nightmares when I could be someone else completely? All I have to do was ignore everything, right? Forget everything...

...Right...?

Wrong. I had already made up my mind and resolution that moment within the church, in front of whatever God or gods watch over me and in front of him. Whenever I fall into this doubt, I only have to give one glance to the man that gave up so much, past and future with his other companions to travel with me, to remind me of that. So why the sudden strange pulls against? The conversation that night was one that affected me most deeply without my having to take part in it. How couldn't it when it spiraled so deeply around me and the hunches or suspicions I had already known? If Sephiroth was my...his...our son... The notion, no, fact is still almost surreal and yet cold with reality. Not because of us, but because of everything else that had happened around us that I am still unaware of. For reasons I do not know how to explain, I feel more guilt with respect that I could have ever come so close to Vincent again given the treacherous fate prior. Because like this now...it feels so easy to repeat the past. I don't want another child to ever have to go through what lonliness, what pain and confusion he endured ever again. Never again. Even if it means preventing that involves preventing everything else from deepening.

I must have betrayed them both in the end, haven't I? And as hopeless as I am even now, it must be doomed to happened again, isn't it? I can feel it happening, and it's ripping the seams I had just reinforced out thread by thread all over again.

I must be stupid, for no matter how many books I read, I still can't find a reason for how this me has become possible all over again.
Death's Hand

It's Ending. [09 Jun 2004|09:31pm]
[ mood | sad ]

Yume wo misete - IV.Collapse )

11 FellDeath's Hand

Breaking Monotony - Week 5 [06 Jun 2004|04:15pm]
[ mood | contemplative ]

And so after a week of rest and half dazed wanderings, I'm getting back into the proper manner of living attentively. I've realized all along that I can't let silly things like dreams get in the way of reality, especially when it inhibits my interactions and thinking as well as causes other people to worry. These Kalm residents are such nice people. It's not that I'm a misanthrope, far from it, but I feel as if I don't want because I don't deserve their compassion or care. I've been saving the earnings that I've been making from my little odd jobs around town. I heard that Midgar wasn't a very friendly metropolis, and so it'll take just a little longer before I can buy fare to the west continent and see if I can find a place there for myself.


It has finally come to my attention that we also have a new resident in almost the same situation as I. Someone who was just kind of guided in, accepted, and has no clear past. And that it was he that was so thoughtful as to bring me those flowers a while ago. I'm surprised I didn't even notice him before-- there aren't too many energetic and youthful teenagers that linger around a boring town like Kalm. I must have been even more disconnected than I thought. I've decided that no matter how bad they may get though, I will do my best not to let it get to me and at least hide it better so that they won't worry. I hope I haven't offended him by my lacking sociability these last few days. I hope to make up for it somehow, soon, and apologize.


On a lighter note, I cut my hair a while ago just to shoulder length. I can't imagine what sort of uncivilized monster I must look like, walking around like a sleep-deprived zombie without even energy to brush that ridiculously long mane. I do have to admit that I'm fond of longer hair, but I just don't have the time and energy to keep it up anymore. After that impulse to cutting it though, it seems to be growing back almost just as quickly. It's already almost mid-back length. It's really strange, seeing as how it hadn't seemed to grow at all when I had just ignored it at thigh length. Maybe there's just a lot of protein in the food around here...? Maybe I should do some sort of food analysis? (I'm joking. I don't even want to touch on the subject of experimenting on anything human. Even if it is my own hair and diet.)


I heard that a visitor to Kalm just checked in a while ago. We haven't had a guest staying at the Inn itself in a little while so I hope it's not too dusty; I've only really been making up the one I sleep in. If we get anymore guests, or if this one would rather be alone, I'll just go ahead sleep in the basement again. I guess I should hurry up and do the housekeeping for that room too tomorrow then, since I've been neglecting it. I hate housework.

Death's Hand

And Again [24 May 2004|06:18pm]
[ mood | anxious ]

I don't quite understand what is going on anymore. I've even started thinking about seeing a dream interpreter, as crazy as that sounds. It's just so...I can't even find a word to grasp it. When I wake up, it feels like I'm still somehow caught in it too. The people around me even notice it. They keep telling me to get more rest and not to divert my mind with my frivolous hobbies of little learning. They say I look tired and sad on the mornings after I have these dreams, and I guess looking in the mirror, they're right. I just wish I knew why and how to make this picture show inside my subconscious stop. I understand that what I see may be helping me remember, but so far, they're only leaving me confused and apprehensive of seeing anymore.

Maybe I will just take Gramps' advice and call it night. Or day, since it's still rather early. I just hope I can finally get some rest either way.


Yume wo misete - Mitsu.Collapse )

11 FellDeath's Hand

Sponteniety - Week 4 [22 May 2004|07:54pm]
[ mood | blah ]

I've been getting better with the dreams recently. Most of it is just blurred now, or things I don't remember after I wake up. I feel like prolonging my visit to Midgar is becoming ineffective as well. Whatever's to come will come and meet me if I don't go myself.

...

Looking at what I just wrote, it's ironic to think that I'm so geared into logic and science that I'd give into notions of fate and destiny. I find that though I learn how galvanic cells operate, electrons move, and how statistical significance at a 5% level compares to various applications, I'm still uncertain on the things that normal humans deal with in themselves. I never said that I could have been, or have much potential to be, a psychologist.


On another note, the miniature fire crackers I've been developing work rather well. More on that after I catalogue today's food shipments. I may as well take my time since they only manage to give me more busy work when I finish early.


Lucrecia ------

Death's Hand

Something Pure [07 May 2004|08:48pm]
[ mood | complacent ]

I had another one. This time though, it didn't leave me with that strange awful feeling towards the end. It was actually very...pure. It'd embarrass me to even be so vain as to write it out here though. It just seemed so real. Maybe if more of my dreams were like these cute little fantasy stories, I wouldn't mind so much.

I have a feeling that nothing lasts forever though..

Yume wo misete - Futatsu.Collapse )

14 FellDeath's Hand

A Dream... [03 May 2004|07:30pm]
[ mood | scared ]

...Is A Dream, Is A Dream

At least that's what I keep trying to tell myself. I wish that I could write about the simple little nothings I contented myself with yesterday, but I can't. It's 3:00am here and everyone is asleep but me. I've heard of people who can't sleep simply because they were afraid of their dreams and I always thought it was ridiculous and silly. I think I understand why now. But I wish I didn't. After all, dreams are nothing but dreams. They don't reach you, and it all lies within your active sub consciousness.

I'm anxious suddenly, and I keep looking out East towards Midgar. Something's waiting for me there. But I can't bring myself to go yet. Not yet.

Yume wo misete.Collapse )

8 FellDeath's Hand

Scratch Work - Week 2 [02 May 2004|08:39pm]
[ mood | energetic ]

After getting the rough outline, I went to look around the mining area of the town and was able to acquire quite a few raw materials the workers did not need or considered worthless. I must say though, mines do hold quite a bit of treasure, whatever form it may be in.

I extracted the particular minerals in their natural form with a series of rather primitive techniques (i.e. Filtration, boiling, reverse osmosis). The results weren't as polished and pure as I would have liked it to be, but I suppose it's the closest I can come with the materials available here. After managing to get these substances, I combined them into the burst charge within the thin paper which provides no barrier against impact, of which, initiates the reverse spontaneous amount of free energy to produce an exothermic effect, combined with the metals unique properties.



I have yet to test this little toy. The first time I tried to take the "stars" (as I like to call them) outside of town to experiment, I tripped over a patch of grass (a.k.a. my own clumsy feet) and fell on my side, whereby the simple collision of landing against the ground set off the sparks within my very pocket. It was mildly painful and I was able to find that the strength of the stars was influenced by layers. When clustered together, the stars also have a sort of burning effect; as my charred pockets prove testament to that. The total effect remains a totaled factor of both significant energy, and prevention of initiation. Thus, as long as the paper is reinforced with enough padding, it will not explode in my pocket or anywhere else unnecessarily again, but I will not have to use every bit of strength within me to throw down the thing to begin the reaction. I've yet to find this balancing point.

Tomorrow, I am going back out to try my next batch. This time, I shall wear flat heeled shoes.


Lucrecia ------
2 FellDeath's Hand

Kalm - Arrival Week 1, April XXXX [30 Apr 2004|10:15pm]
[ mood | pensive ]

This whole month has been like a strange blessing. I feel as if I have woken from a very long and torturous dream. Well, I suppose I cannot say that it was completely unpleasant. There were some aspects that I can lean towards enough to call...beautiful, though perhaps estranged may be a better word for it. I have to admit that I don't remember anything really. When I try, the farthest this mind seems to go is to that noonday sun in Lower Junon; where they say they found me. I also can not remember anything but the first name "Lucrecia" which doesn't help clue me to any family I may or may not have. In some ways, I hope that there is a family waiting for me, somewhere. Someone who may actually need me. But in others, I also hope that there is no one so that my absence will not require them to endure the unknowing and mystery of my absence and outcome.


After they managed to get me up and running again, I decided to go to Midgar. I heard that they were doing reconstruction in response towards the supernatural phenomenon of the planet's reaction to core influences. I ended up coming to Kalm instead, and finding a little place for myself at their Inn. I just felt that Midgar wasn't for me yet. It's nice and peaceful here, just like the name implies. I know that I can't stay here though. For one, it's a bit presumptuous to take up space like this. There is also an insufficient amount of written knowledge I crave as well. Where I get this undying desire to learn and do things is beyond me. I understand that it is a trait of personality, in a way genetics as well as environmental influences. But I wonder how thoroughly integrated this aspect has been in my 'past life?'

I have decided to call my period beyond my memory the Past Life. Rather generic and common, but it needs not more elusive terms. I understand that my lack of memory may very well be an increased factor of psychogenic amnesia, and it is that forgotten period that I consider the past. Whether history should repeat itself or upcoming events trigger that past, I have yet to see. I can't say that I am driving full force towards 'finding myself,' if you will, but I'm a bit curious to learn of myself, just as the same curiosity drives me to discover, and create. After all, what kind of memory would have been so stressful and poignant that my mind refuses to bring it to the surface after all this time? You'd think I took part as a catalyst in some future altering fantasy the way this block to the past is rooted. Very fantastical and illogical, but a rather entertaining thought to play with when I'm bored. Which is rather often here.


I've been thinking about making some small fire crackers to put some spark of excitement into this place. (Bad joke, I know.) I will probably end up making notes in here as I see what I can come up with.


Lucrecia ------

Death's Hand

Another Meeting, But New [24 Apr 2004|05:45pm]
Original RP Thread

Lucrecia had did what little she was required to do for the morning: restocking and taking count of the supplies and materials at the Kalm Inn. It had taken the owner so much longer when he had tried to do the same, so her help and efficiency was readily welcome in exchange for the temporary roof to remain under. The accounting was simple to her though, maybe too simple. Numbers and figures came just as easily to her as logic and various studies within the limited amount of books she poured over in the area. Most of the books were about homely, droning, things though. Sewing, cooking, a little bit of philosophy here and there. Eventually, she grew tired of the ten ways to peel a potato and decided to take a walk outside to clear her mind of the mindless drivel she had been trying to read. She found the solitude just a few feet from town comforting, and if there ever was a wandering beast who was curious enough to venture nearby her...Well, she had her little ways.

On her path out of the town gates, there was a small round of children that brushed passed her, too absorbed around a little brown bag to even see that she existed, talking excitedly in badly restrained tones of hush. She frowned slightly at them. It was not that she disliked children; she found them fascinating, actually. But this certain troupe seemed to be up to some sort of childish antic again. The sort that did not quite fall under 'cute.' Deciding to leave them alone instead of playing the part of the responsible and fun spoiling adult, she continued-- only to hear a distant high pitched scream.


A sharp yip of pain emitted from one of the wolf type creatures following a short crack of light. The second soon mimicked that response from another burst. They spun on their interruption, hides stinging, provoked and snapping at her. Though now cautious of the ashen scent which lingered around the compact stars being tossed experimentally up and down within her palm, it did not take long for the pair of beasts to begin advancing on her, and her step back encouraged them. Before they could get too close though, she threw the handful of fireworks down in front of them again, startling them once more with the spontaneous flashes of light and causing them to skitter back.

She was out of the child's play ammunition, but it did not stop her from bluffing and walking confidently towards the reconsidering attackers. If needed, she had a few small packs of powdered pepper, but while she took advantage of their doubt, they had decided to turn and retreat lest the next sparks hit them again. Perhaps the jolt factor she had packed into them had been a bit too much? For now though, her simple ability to have succeeded in their leave caught up with her, and the older girl sank to her knees in front of the younger.

"That was...Quite remarkable," Lucrecia finally said after finding a word for it. She offered the girl a weak smile and continued to finish her sentence for what the adjective was meant to describe, "I think you're the bravest girl I've ever seen. What's your name?"

---

Lucrecia had to lean her head downwards to hear the girl's small voice. Her name did not sound familiar, but then again nothing really did anymore. Still, she knew and would remember Marlene Wallace now. Repeating the name in her head just incase it would strike something; she almost did not catch the question and thought on it for a moment to decipher before replying. "Eleanor? I'm sorry, I'm not." She admitted, noting the girl's nervousness. Taking one of Marlene's small hands in both of hers, she shook it once, firmly. "My name is Lucrecia." Just Lucrecia. Whether there ever was or would be more to the name were both unknown to her.

"Those creatures didn't hurt you did they?" Lucrecia asked not seeing any apparent wounds or scratches on the girl. Relaxing as she further realized that the girl had just been frightened, as well as incredibly timid, the woman gave her a small smile to try and put her to ease with her. "Or maybe I should ask if you had hurt them since they ran away so fast. Are you practicing to get stronger with fighting against the monsters out here?"

---

Lucrecia was glad to hear the melody of the girl's light laughter in response to the earlier comment. But the frown that followed soon after at the remembrance of something else was not as pleasant. Instead of asking her what she was troubled over right off, however, Lucrecia looked to the three marble sized stones in the small palm. She had heard about and read a little bit on materia since she had come to the little town. From what she understood, it was quite useful to use, but other than that, this was seemingly her first time seeing it. Still, it was a bit strange that this was her first look at them and at the same time, she felt something eerily familiar about them.

"Materia…" Lucrecia began, a slender hand reaching up to brush an aquamarine orb, though she didn’t take it from its place. "It's made from condensed Mako energy. Have you ever heard of the Ancients? The knowledge and wisdom of those people is held in each of these tiny spheres, and it's that knowledge that provides the link between you and the planet's magic." That part was simple, read right out of a book. Using it on the other hand was something more to think of. There weren't exactly readily available guides on the nine steps to using materia like there were for potatoes.

"Maybe, if you have something that you really want to protect or do, the Ancients inside of this material will hear it and help you." Lucrecia surmised. She never really stopped to ask the girl if she was following or not. Marlene's bright eyed gaze and attentiveness was answer enough. "You are the link between the mind of the Ancients and the power of the planet."

"Now," Lucrecia prompted. "I don't know why you need to kill a monster with it, but if you want, maybe you can try to learn how to use the materia. I'll do what I can to help."

----

"All right!" Lucrecia could not hold her smile back from curving the corners of her pale rose lips more fully with Marlene's enthusiasm. Pushing herself up from the ground, she brushed the dust that clung to her pale blue jeans briefly before setting her hands to her lips. She scanned the flat horizon with her vibrant amber eyes, a literal, almost unearthly hue. She had no idea why her eyes were afflicted with the pale glow that was only noticeable in significant darkness or concentration, but for now, she did not let it bother her.

Spotting a grassless area close by marked with a large boulder, Lucrecia began walking towards it and waved the smaller girl up to follow. From the color of the materia, she assumed the dark ruby bauble to something of fire, so a good dry place would have worked best. It wouldn't do to have the whole savannah burst into flames after all. That notion reminded Lucrecia of what she was doing. She was going to try and see if she could teach this little girl if she could use something as potent as materia. The stuff that people used in real battles and enhanced weaponry.

Despite that fact though, she felt that she had to try. It made Marlene so happy. There was no guarantee that anything would come out of it. But if something did, and that something was not what she had expected, Lucrecia was ready to take full responsibility for whatever happened. Honestly, she was more afraid of what she may have been able to do with the orbs of compact power in her hands than in the other girl's purer heart.


Pulling up a few fistfuls of the dry grass which withered around the immediate border of the dusty radius, Lucrecia crouched near center to arrange the grass in a neat pile before stepping back besides Marlene.

"Do you know which is which?" Lucrecia asked her. "It's okay if we don't know too, because we can figure it out along the way. I'm sure materia will work on things that aren't necessarily 'living' so it won't hurt if we end up making some mistakes." She winked and gave Marlene a sheepish grin at her last word. "Pick one to start out with and we'll see what it can do with that grass. Make sure to let the Ancients know that we don't want to do anything too big for now though." Lucrecia cautioned while suggesting ways and ideas that may bring the orbs to life.

"Concentrate, and see if you feel anything…different. Something that wasn't there before." For lack of better words. It was hard to describe, but the feeling sounded right somehow.
Death's Hand

To Live [23 Apr 2004|12:20pm]
It was a strange dream that came to her last night: wavelengths of cobalt and voices both harsh and soothing, all swirling together and mixing; like cold blueberry marble ice cream.

Of course, this probably was not too unusual considering she did have some of the old-fashion made desert from her artistic proprietor the other day. It had been strawberry flavored, however, and was deliciously soft. Still, it was the first time she could recall anything from her dreams other then blissful black of nothing. Whether the coming of her muddled dreaming had been a good omen or not, however, was still debatable. She could tell that it would be a while until the mixed blurs and muddled comprehension would focus into clarity though. Dreams often held the puzzles of the subconscious which tried to work themselves out without the alertness of intervening judgments. And there were questions and mysteries of the human nature and decision that she knew she somehow did not truly wish to recall.


It had been a few months since she had literally washed up upon the shores of lower Junon. The amiable sea creature had found her at some point along the depthless, expansive, graveyard and brought her to rest against the sun warmed sand. Her first recollection upon awakening was the warmth of the dawning sun on her pale face, and the cool tide caressing gently against her cheek.

Upon that eventual awareness of rusty joints and slow circulation, she was also obviously confused as to how she got there, for how long, and why she was there. Yet when she had tried to remember, nothing came but the vague dreamlike cavern of aquamarine crystal. That place felt far away, and everything beyond that memory fell even farther. Her mind was then unable to think of anything but the Now. The way the thick wires over head continued to hum with an incessant buzz that eventually faded into the back of one's reception to be ignored. The way the waters tugged each mussed and matted dark cinnamon strand. How the clear water tinged with oil, something so tainted, turned the substance to rainbow reflections against a clear and inverted bowl of azure overhead.

It was pretty, despite being a man made sort of beauty. It had lulled her to sleep again, and when she awoke for the second time, she was alive.
Death's Hand

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