2023-06-03: Contagious Hope
- Log: 2023-06-03: Contagious Hope
- Cast: Christina McKenzie, Sayla Mass
- Where: Villa Mass, AEU Spain
- OOC - IC Date:3 June 0097
- Summary: Chris comes back to the Villa to look for parts- and a reason to keep going. Sayla refuses to let her do so alone. One person's hope can sometimes be enough for two.
<Pose Tracker> Christina McKenzie has posed.
Gundam Tristan GN, descended heavily among the trees, snapping and crashing through them in a graceless stumble. Though his tabard of hazy pink glow had kept the long range sensors from alerting his destination, any closer and the chromatic dispersion of GN particles would trip the tattler failsafes on the proximity sensors.
His pilot, after all, had helped program them.
ihrsCnita naeKzceMi, fraetmnged and dieoisrnted, pushed her way through the underbrush to one of the more discrete passageways she knew of. Surely there were others that even Chris was unaware of. The Mass Villa was just that kind of place.
Buried within the facsimile of a fallen tree, she faltered, second guessing her memory, turning around and around before she rediscovered the unused siege passage. An animal warren now hid it better than most camoflage, and Chris shoved aside the collected groundcover in order to pull open the hatch. Ground-penetrating radar systems might be able to locate the reinforced corridor as it stretched to the Villa's underbelly, but satellite intelligence, at least, would be stymied.
Despite its expansive size, the Villa never felt particularly empty, between the deliberate care the staff exerted to maintain order, and the residents' eternal undoing of that order--the signs of life.
But...the current Villa felt more like a mausoleum to Chris. The wine cellar panel opened with a silent glide.
For the best, she didn't want to see anyone. She just had to fetch some parts... The hangar was this way...
Idiot, you're trailing sand from your clothes the whole way. Rosarita is gonna have to...
It's good that no one was here. How could she face anyone? If she'd... if only she'd...done the one thing she'd set herself to?
The only thing... XAIRO and MAIRO... she hoped they were taking care of Haro. She'd heard Banagher. Of course she'd heard him, but... 'Hope! Hope!' Haro had chirped to her. And she... she couldn't even... How could she explain to Haro that she came back, and he didn't?
A pair of K-clamps and a can of shock resistant lacquer. Shoved aside.
...Why did she even come back here?
"I have to fix Tristan."
Why did she bother trying to fix it?
A sheet of interior partitioning. Hurled aside with a clatter.
What could she do now that she didn't already fail?
"I have to be able to fight."
Even if you fight, you've already lost.
You've lost what matters the most.
"No... it's not... I haven't!"
You think they'll come back whole?
...Or at all? After all, Vist is known to keep her word.
"Shut up..."
Don't fool yourself. You'll never see her again. Feel her warmth again.
"Shut up!"
Warmongers aren't fond of giving the OpFor their weapons.
"She's NOT a weapon!!"
<Pose Tracker> Sayla Mass has posed.
Sayla had come back from 3G France for one reason-
To pack some bags.
It wasn't hers, this time, even though she'd probably be making frequent trips to Tsutsujidai over the next few weeks, but this first one is most important.
In Akane's room, she carefully packed all the clothes and supplies Akane would need for an extended stay. A week's worth of clothes, medication, a backup datapad to replace what Vist took from her...
She had almost been ready to go when she heard it. The clattering. The yelling.
Sayla reached for her pistol. Had Vist decided to make a move after everything? She advanced towards the large garage that sometimes doubled as a hangar. That held the spare parts.
As she closed, she recognized the voice screaming, wordlessly, she slipped the pistol away and then...
Knocked twice gently at the door, before pushing through.
"Chris." She knows who it is. She knew long before she got to the door. Like she knew that feeling of distress, and helplessness.
"Chris, it's me. It's Sayla." She steps through, and moves towards the other woman. "I'm coming over, okay?"
She doesn't really give Chris a chance to argue. Once she's close enough, she wraps her arms around Chris from behind. "I'm here. I'm with you."
<Pose Tracker> Christina MacKenzie has posed.
It isn't here. It has to be here, has to be, has to be, has to be here so she can fight, but it's not. It's not, and she can't go back to Eight, to Haro, her partners, to the Ring, to the Ptolemaios, to Ribo, can't go anywhere, can't stay here, can't be here and there and anywhere her family once was, can't be.
The echo of metal on metal and the erratic thudding of her battered heart are the only sounds in the hangar she can discern.
"Why did I even come here?"
You can't escape your failures. Even if you stayed out in the ocean. You came because you've left things undone.
"What else is there left I can still do?"
You can still make them pay.
"That's not that's That's not why I fight–!"
Panic rises as she swears it to herself, descending from words into a mumbled mantra, until she tires of fighting the anger back. With a frustrated bellow, she shoves the bin to the side to get to the workbench behind it. It clatters and rattles and protests the rough movement, but…
Perched on that bench is the last thing she wants to see right now. A tiny stand connected to a grounding wire, its mountings cradling a mini Haro just about the size of Chris's clenched fist. It's never yet innervated to life, still wingless and clothed only in its dull undershell layer. Any mini Haro could look like this.
Her eyes widen.
Emotions tangle and thrash in the glisten of tears and the tightness of pain and the wild saccades of feral rage. All of these blurring her vision, but she still knows how easily her hand will close around it. Even she doesn't know what will happen when she does, and there's no reason to hope it's anything good.
But her bandaged fingers never reach.
Sounds. Sounds finally made it past the clamoring in her head.
She's not a Newtype. No, she hasn't had to fight to prove she isn't a weapon, hasn't had to fight to keep the thoughts of others from crowding out her own.
But she doesn't need to be one for her body to know, long before her mind, that those footsteps belong to a loved one. Belong to the only person she still has left.
Those warm arms wrap around her, that slender body drawing hers back with all that strength this woman keeps hidden below the surface. Ow, the back of her neck is still a little sunburned, but the sting never makes it to the consciousness. No other person it could be. Rustled by the embrace, Chris's clothes release a whisper of sand and the smell of the sea.
"Sayl…how did…but why…you shouldn't be here…"
Her outstretched arm falls to her side, having grasped nothing. Held on to nothing. Protected nothing.
"No. I shouldn't be here. And you shouldn't touch me… Get away from me! …I couldn't stop them…!"
Despite the strident complaint, Chris's only movement is the half-step to keep her balance. She doesn't believe deeply enough to break away…but she's trying to not bear any of her weight onto Sayla. And by the bowing of her shoulders, she's clearly taken on more than she can shoulder.
Because of course she has. Who would she give it to? The people she trusts to share it are the people whose burdens are already greater than her own…
<Pose Tracker> Sayla Mass has posed.
"I'm not letting you go."
In contrast to the choppy waters that surround Chris' mind right now, Sayla's voice carries a determination, fierce and near unbreakable. A strength it hasn't had in years.
"I think right now, I'm exactly where I need to be." Gently, ever so gently, she starts to lean back, applying a little weight to help pull Chris away from the detritus- away from the edge.
Right now, Sayla has room for a few more burdens. A bit more weight on her shoulders.
Akane had been able to remind her where to find her own strength, after all. She just needed to lift it high enough that Chris could get light to find hers.
Her eyes go past Chris's shoulder, to the Haro she was reaching for. She knows where that would be if she'd been a second later.
"...That's for Leina, right? You should give it to her when we've saved her."
There's no room for doubt or fear in Sayla's statement.
<Pose Tracker> Christina MacKenzie has posed.
'I'm not letting you go.'
She can't summon the will to free herself, not that she can even figure out why she'd want to.
"Why?"
The question crumbles out, without any of the modular components she appends to it in her head. More questions than she can think to ask. All of the words pile up in her aching head, fit to burst, but they only escape as a croak. Her throat is dry and raw, and not just from a single night's screaming.
"...Why?"
Sayla answers one among legion, and Chris resists, for a long, long second, attempting to stand her ground. This woman has pulled her from the darkness now three times, or more, she owes her so much. Why is it always her that makes it out?! How could she be worth being saved so many times, when it could be anyone else? How could she dare to be saved once again?
If you didn't want to be saved, why did you come to this workshop, to this house? Remember. That boy said you need to be saved, too.
Banagher…
A palm, tightly wrapped, settles hesitantly atop Sayla's arm as Chris steps back. She's unsteady on her feet, and slowly leans into the embrace. She's sweating, despite the light clothes and the cool air of the hangar.
"It was supposed to protect her…–Huh? When?" Not if? One more time, then.
"Why are you so sure?"
<Pose Tracker> Sayla Mass has posed.
"Because I don't want to."
Sayla could have given any number of reasons, but that's the one that feels most right. Even if Chris was trying to hide it, she can feel that distress radiating off her. A little more vividly than normal.
"Please turn around, Chris."
Sayla's voice remains calm, strong. She can be Chris' strength as many times as it takes.
"...They got out of there. Rikka and Akane are at 3G France, with Alouette and Rikka's mother. I was there with them until a few hours ago. They're not okay, but they will be. They just need time to undo Rikka's programming."
She continues in that same calm, supportive tone. "And Banagher and Mineva... they took the Garuda. All five of them, working together, got themselves out."
She hopes that will bolster Chris. But she has to answer the question.
"...Because Leina's still alive. I know she is. I would have felt it if she wasn't." She presses her head gently to the back of Chris' head. "And if she's alive, there's still hope."
Hope... for so long it's been something Sayla has refused to do, ever since the Axis Shock.
"And...I won't accept a world where Leina can't come home. Not now, not ever. That's why I'm sure."
<Pose Tracker> Christina MacKenzie has posed.
She can't turn around. Not yet. Not while her sunburned cheeks are stinging with saltwater. She can't show her face like this. But she brings her other hand up to Sayla's, wrapping around it, firm despite the weakness of her spirit.
"They…They got out? All of them? Took the bridge, too?" It's. It's hard to believe. Actually hard to believe. Sayla wouldn't lie to her…–well, not about this. But Leina hadn't been acting normal, either, saying all that. Saying it like she meant it, really meant it. Could…
A spike of paranoia dug deep, but she wrenched away from it. Clung to the warm arms around her, clung to her trust, clung to her family. It had to be true. It couldn't not be.
"Oh, Sayla… I-I was so sure they'd never–"
If that's all true… Her worry for Rikka tightened her chest, but–she's a strong girl, a kind heart. She'll be okay. And she has Akane, right?
So young, all five of them, but achieving so many impossibilities. Is it age that makes the future seem so constricted? Or is it just something she herself lacks?
"Hope…"
Chris shifts her feet, twisting around to face her. She's unsteady, but regains her balance to lock her eyes with Sayla.
"Okay."
It's there, in her soul. It's wilted, it's scorched, it's battered by the winds, but it's desperate for the sun. And with that glimmer, no, that brilliant light from her best friend… maybe that hope can manage one more leaf, one more bud, one more blossom.
"Okay. I'll help you make that world."
But still one more infestation, burrowed into her heart.
"...uld…be…"
It wasn't even a whisper, barely even a pebble against the window against Sayla's barriers. But it was there. And there it was again. Plink.
"...why couldn't it have been me…?"
<Pose Tracker> Sayla Mass has posed.
"Banagher and Mineva are making plans to land somewhere soon. Would you like to come with me when I go to see them?"
She's not going to make the call on Chris' behalf, but having the option might help.
"...I was too. I was so sure that there was nothing we could do to save Leina other than stand down. So I did." She looks ashamed of herself, as she says it. "All I could think was that I'd lose her." She shakes her head. "But they all pulled off a miracle."
For such a long time, that word tasted like ash in Sayla's mouth.
But maybe, just maybe, a miracle can be a good thing.
"I have no intention of wasting this chance they made for us. We're going to save Leina too." She repeats it as Chris turns around. "We're going to save Leina. You, me, and everyone else."
Her hands reach up to rest on either side Chris' face, ever so gently, her fingers settling against the sunburnt skin. She gently touches her forehead to Christina's, breathing slowly in and out. There's no walls here this time. She can feel the weight of those dreadful words.
"Don't."
Sayla's voice is quiet and soft. But that determination is still there.
"Don't even think it. Don't think for a second that Leina or I would want this to have happened to you instead. I need you with me, Chris. As much as I need Leina. I won't be able to do this without you."
She closes her eyes, and just stands there for a while, her forehead to Chris'. A reminder that they're both still here. That they can still lean on each other, and keep each other up if they're both individually worn out. Eventually, one hand goes down, to take Chris' hand.
"Come on. Let's get some water, and I'll run a cool bath for you. Akane will understand if her bag's late."
<Pose Tracker> Christina MacKenzie has posed.
"Please. Bring me with you. I need to see them–see they're okay…" She's hiding neither her raw need nor her raw vocal cords.
'There was nothing I could do other than stand down.'
The Banshee, cradling the Unicorn; Rikka's Gundam in the wake of the CR-365's resentful advance; Akane, steeping herself in sins…that idiot man, dying to save Ribo.
"It's all we could do–any of us. I'm sorry I ran away…when you needed me. And Haro needed me." More guilt, but… it's lost its weight, its barbs. Not yet healed, but no longer festering. "I should have stayed, I…" No, that won't do. Dig deeper.
"–I'm glad you were here. To find me." To save me.
Miracle. A miracle… What had Lein–a memory tinted with pain, now. Why hasn't she seen anything, in those midnight hours? Leina said that miracles always come at cost, costs like Sayla's happiness, or the burden on Banagher's shoulders.
Chris didn't doubt that, not for a second. Even so, even without miracles, everything has its costs. And sometimes,
"The impossible… Sometimes it's worth the cost."
The cost. She'd give anything to see Leina safe again. Give anything. And if she has nothing else, she can always use herself as the cost.
She turns around, full of that feeling, that dangerous feeling that 'give anything' includes herself, awash in that shame, that tearful urge to pull others' sufferings away, into herself.
She turns around and has that feeling gently, but inexorably, undeniably rejected. Clinging oil, cleansed away by two hands cradling her head and her heart. It lingered, waiting for the next moment of weakness, but there isn't room for both that fear and this love.
Even through her slight fever, she was instantly washed over with Sayla's warmth. Her body stopped fighting the exhaustion, and started urging her towards recovery.
Banagher said it too. 'You've got to promise me you'll take care of yourself the way you'd take care of one of us.' 'Remember, you count as a person we need to save.'
Someone to be saved. But that's not the same as being someone needed. And she's probably needed Sayla more than she has in five years.
"...Sayla…Thank you. I," She'll say it. "I need you. I hope that's okay…"
<Pose Tracker> Sayla Mass has posed.
Chris's raw emotion is a lot to take in. But Sayla refuses to flinch.
"We've paid enough of the cost, don't you think?" She says, whisper-quiet. "I'm not giving up on anyone else. Never again. I'm going to be selfish this time, and make sure everyone comes home safe. You and me too."
'I hope that's okay...' Chris words land on her heart, and finally, Sayla starts to tear up, with a warm, tired smile on her face.
"Always."