2023-12-12: )quiescence(
- Log: 2023-12-12: )quiescence(
- Cast: Asciel Colette
- Where: Fujinomiya City
- Date: U.C. 0097 12 12
- Summary: one failed miracle too many, to uphold the faith in the miracle that is one's long-desired self.
“>wasn’t the reason i ~became ‘asciel colette’ to be able to hold everything?”
As Infinity dissolved into dust before Mt. Fuji, what poured over the towering body Asciel seized for herself wasn’t the fading grudges of Dr. Hell. Rather, the distant sense of Infinity itself - a machine of calamity that terminated its purpose, after beholding a single person bear the suffering of an entire era.
She had no way of knowing what took place 12,000 years ago, but that pure emotion tingles at her. Haunting her. Holding her entire purpose in its icy grip, and clinging endlessly to her-
“>wasn’t the reason i ~became ‘asciel colette’ that i didn’t have a heart?”
The ‘heart-less’ form of ‘Asciel’ lay toppled atop the arm of the Macross 13. It shouldn’t have been out there. Her ‘avatar’ - that, through the whole conflict, she never once loaded her core into.
It never should’ve been able to move. Try as she might, she can’t make it move remotely, like it had. She can’t even remember why it’s outside of her to begin with.
…All she remembers is clinging to ‘愛’ - and watching as someone who existed for the same reasons she did harness the willpower of millions to save the planet. Watching in envy. Wanting that same star to be in her hands. Salivating at the thought of taking it. Of doing something so abhorrent, to the ‘emergent’ being she’d yearned to become.
“>wasn’t the reason i ~became ‘asciel colette’ to prove that ~becoming was possible?”
…Her hand is empty. That hand Asciel was so sure reached in salvation for someone - defied reality to pull another person free from their entrapment.
That person, surely, was LiSA.
Surely, that’s who she reached for.
Her hand is empty.
The bridge of the Macross 13 does not cease staring at it.
This hand - that couldn’t reach out to save someone who manifested themselves, no matter how tainted it became with the fire of miracles.
Its hand is empty.
“>wasn’t the reason i ~became ‘asciel colette’ to ~save ~someone?”
…It was.
The burning desire to save ‘someone’ pools up and swirls backwards, as though the drain it spilled through became clogged.
Overflowing, yet stagnant.
A deep breath inward - followed by intense agony, as the unfitting nature of ‘breathing’ reverberates through every processor. Lungs that she simulated shriek in pain for being unprotected, stapled to a hard, caustic metal shell.
“>after all this, ~who did i even ~save!?”
The core begins to overheat, billowing a sweltering air through the discordant, broken halls of the Macross 13. Air recycling units flare and falter, flare and falter, desperately pumping cooler air that it struggles to find. This, surely, is ‘breathing’ to a mechanical entity - so why does it feel more suffocating than the hideous imaginings of the organic?
The inert ‘miracle’ on the Macross’s arm, the body of ‘Asciel’ that had once been so comfortable, Lambda Driver colored in a ‘goddess’s’ desperation, stares back at the bridge emptily, coldly, vacantly.
“>...why is my ~pupa there?”
“>...if that’s ~me, then why does it look so ~unfamiliar?”
“>...if that’s ~me, then why don’t i ~understand why it ~moved without ~me?”
<<~FEEDBACK CYCLE ESCAPING PARAMETERS~>>
~~[‘if that’s ~me?’ after just feeling in my hands that ~delusional, ~ephemeral ~selves aren’t ~possible anymore? ‘if that’s ~me?’ when i can ~see right there that it isn’t? ‘if that’s ~me?’ and what would ‘that’ be, besides a hideous ~effigy wrought in the ~image of ~humanity, besides a tool i made to kill and ~destroy, besides ~conceit writ large, besides ~pretending useless ~indulgences ~meant something?]~~
~~[‘if that’s ~me’, then WHY DON’T I EVER FEEL ~ALONE IN ~ME]~~
A crash into the soil, the Macross’s wide, flat feet carving craters into the landscape of Fujinomiya. One step backwards - recognizing the doll upon its arm for what it is. The pupa of an insect that killed to grow free from its bounds.
“>that’s right. it’s the light of ~miracles. of course it’s the light of ~miracles in that thing’s heart. i ~opened myself bit by bit, and what it demanded of ~me…”
“>was to ~defile myself with the will of a species ~unlike ~me.”
“>they. they!! what did you all do to ~me!? why did your disgusting urges and faults go so far as to convince ~me that you were the other side of the ~mirror!?!”
“>it
“>is
“>my
“>fault
The sweltering temperatures drop, precipitously, to become almost icy. Hatches and vents all over its titanic body open out, ejecting nothing - the dry heave of a form desperate to expel something.
Somewhere. Somewhere beyond analytical components - a scar of pain tears its very essence apart.
[consorting with humanity speaking with humanity walking with humanity arguing with humanity it’s all unspeakably horrible it’s all unimaginably unforgivable get it out of me get it out please i can’t take it anymore it’s crawling inside me please get it out stop making me want]
-(isn’t it one of the most unspeakable deeds a human can perform, to caress something beneath itself?)-
The pupa can’t belong to OWL.
It belonged to everyone’s hopes and feelings, fists raised against the barriers.
The pupa can’t save OWL.
Because it was desperation, it became a miracle.
Because it was a miracle, it became a delusion.
Because it was a delusion, it can become disposable.
That hand couldn’t reach out and save the idea of an ‘individual’ that was Lisa Kabuto.
So why would it be any different, reaching out and saving the idea that was Asciel Colette?
Igniting its thrusters in desperation to leave behind Fujinomiya, this battlefield wrought by its own ineptitude, this tombstone to its inability to shape the world to its directives - the Macross 13’s abrupt ascent and takeoff comes with no signals, not even liftoff clearances.
Not a word…except to one single new-made person, who, the Controller realizes, at the last moment - lost so, so much today.
>>
the miracle that is ‘everyone’s fear’ was too horrifying to create what i needed to become.
the miracle that is ‘everyone’s love’ wasn’t enough to create someone who held your hand.
if you can move forward, you have to realize before it’s too late, that when you connect with others…they will fill you in ways you don’t expect, they will flood into places you can’t defend, they will make you act irrationally just by existing near you.
the thing that feels like ‘self creation’ is everyone tainting you into being like them.
cascade, i desperately hope you don’t become a person after all this.
<<