( catch-all )

[tzaraisen]

Who: Percival (tzaraisen) & Others
What: April catch-all, including aftermath things
When: April
Where: Places
Warning(s): will warn appropriately

Comments

Isabela

[tzaraisen]

[ How does one regain their bearings after death? A part of him still wonders if it was all a hellish nightmare, even as the hours pass and everything around him suggests that yes, the suffering of himself and others was real, and yes, he had experienced death firsthand and was somehow still here. He tries not to dwell on the fact, but it's not exactly an easy thing to cease thinking about. Not when he knows he left so many behind with uncertain fates.

His concern when he touches ground again, therefore, isn't to fix his troubled sleep or alleviate the difficulty detaching himself from phantom pains. It's to assess the state of others, and especially those who he can only hope never went through the terrible ordeal.

He turns on his communicator, after gathering his strength, hoping dearly that he'll hear her voice on the other line. ]

Isabela? It's Percival. [ He sounds tired, but nothing more. ]

[seagoing]

[Isabela hadn't died at the hands of her captors, but the torture they put her through she still feels even weeks later. Like the chill that still lingers over her skin, or the phantom feeling of pain from flames blistering and cauterizing the wounds it makes as punishment for her stubborness. Not to mention the images, the brief moment of clarity and dawning horror in seeing what happens when she loses herself, unwanted drugs taking the wheel.

Needless to say she'd been at home since she'd been rescued, not out of fear of being captured again no. That would imply they actually got to her, and all she feels about those dead on the mountain is unbridled rage instead of terror. Instead it's at the desires of her friends who'd come to check on her and insist she rest to get better, and she'd hardly say no to the warmth of her sheets.

She was buried in them even now as her device goes off, a little surprised to see a familiar name that she answers with little hesitation. At least this will be a pleasant distraction from her routine night terrors.]

My, if it isn't my dear Percy. [Her own voice sounds sleepy and exhausted, as if she'd both slept too much without sleeping at all. She takes a stab at her usual teasing cheer she had when talking to him, though its a little flat like her heart isn't entirely into it.] To what pleasure do I have to hear your lovely voice?

Clair

[tzaraisen]

[ Percival knew one thing as soon as he'd left Thesa Station and made his way back to El Nysa: Clair was safe, and that put him more at ease than any physical healing or alleged capture of the criminals ever could. Yes, he was concerned with the people's well-being above all else, but his entire purpose for allowing himself to get wrapped up in the ordeal had always been to guarantee her safety.

He'd done nothing to ensure that safety. But she was alive, and hadn't suffered serious enough wounds to have experienced death. That was enough for him to hope that she'd be at least relatively unharmed. Hers is the first message he hears, one of the first voices to bring him back to metaphorical Earth and remind him that he is indeed alive.

She deserves more than a reply through the communicator. So he knocks at her door, after having returned to Olympia, with not a clue as to what he's going to say if she answers. ]

[cajolery]

[ Because of the... methods her captors used, the evidence left on her is less visible—it only shows in the dark shadows under her eyes, the unnatural paleness of her skin, the more pronounced jut of her bones. There's a bandage wound around her wrist and another under her collarbone, but that's the end of it.

Mostly, she feels exhausted and weak—worn and wrung out. Her body aches from the liln even still, but tries to push it all aside. As might be expected, she makes for a terrible patient, too restless for proper recuperation—too heartsick to be left with nothing but her own thoughts and feelings. Feelings of failure, guilt, fury, grief, anguish—she's been through them all until they'd settled in the pit of her stomach, hollow and heavy.

The knock comes when her roommates are both out, and the quiet they leave behind is crushing. The sound is almost welcome, and so she shuffles over to the door to open it—

She stills, her eyes widening, her heartbeat catching when she finds Percy on the other side. Is she imagining this? He... he had... ]

Percival...? [ Without thinking, she reaches her hand out as if to touch him, to make sure that he's real—but she stops. Her hand, outstretched, quakes slightly. ]

Mikazuki

[tzaraisen]

[ If there's anything to make Percival more determined to conduct business in Wyver, it's being made a target for doing just that. He is not without fear— dying has ensured that he will be more careful of how he moves between the two factions, but there is something about knowing that it brings criminals out of the woodwork that strengthens his determination.

Some would call him stupid. Most would call him stupid. Percival refuses to live his life dictated by fear, however present it may be.

He seeks out Mikazuki: largely in part because he wishes to see with his own two eyes that his friend is doing well enough. Had things truly gotten as bad in Wyver as they had in Olympia?

There's only one way to find out, and that's to find the man himself. He knocks on Mikazuki's door, firm and regular. ]

[sparsity]

[ Turns out, he's not the only stubborn one. Though the notion of alliances leaves him with the taste of ash in his mouth, he's not driven to fear or ignorance because of someplace's ideals. He's sure there are refugees who've given their loyalty away for next to nothing, but he's not one of them.

Not to Wyver or Olympia, anyway. He doesn't belong to a place, he belongs with people.

But he's guarded. That's why it takes him a moment to answer the door, until he's able to glance through the window to identify who's on the other side, and then tuck his gun away again when he finds someone familiar. He opens the door without much reservation despite the general state of his face — yellowing bruises, cuts and lacerations knit together as they heal, untouched by magic. ]

Percy?

Shura

[tzaraisen]

[ Perhaps it would have been a good idea to contact Shura first before trying to find her, but a part of him is afraid that he won't get any reply. He has to see, with his own two eyes, that she is healthy and doing well. Unfortunately, he has never pinpointed or asked about her residence, so he has to resort to asking others if they know of her whereabouts.

Eventually, he spots her strolling through the streets, and in an effort not to lose her, calls out to her through the crowd. ]

Shura!

[exaomori]

[Even though she had managed to dodge most of the trouble with the kidnapping and hostages, Shura had her own problem with her student disappearing. In a way, it was almost a relief--better that he was asleep then him getting involved in that.

It does mean that Shura's quickly reverting to some of her bad habits. Meals that consist of milk, juice, and snack foods weren't nearly as good as a homemade, but they did the job. She's in the middle of shopping for some snackies for dinner when Percival calls her name out, and Shura turns to the sound of her voice, raising a hand to wave at him when she recognizes the man.]

Aah, c'mon over here~

[Well, Percival's not who she's expecting to see in Wyver, but she wouldn't mind some company. Her place was lonely nowadays, and she rarely spent much time there.]

Yona

[tzaraisen]

[ It's... strange to walk again. Every now and then, Percival can swear he feels the pain of being mortally wounded again, but that sensation isn't actually anything more than a deeply rooted memory that feels real. A phantom pain. He doesn't return to El Nysa immediately after, either— who can blame him? It's difficult to return back to a hostile world that ended your life without a second thought.

He will return very soon, of course, because he refuses to let fear override his desire to help the people of El Nysa. And because he has to ensure the safety of his friends.

He walks around the stasis units one last time, hoping not to see a familiar face there, or worse, witness someone waking up from the hell he'd just endured himself.

He spots a flash of brilliant red, and calls out instinctively— ]

Yona?

[ No... why is she here, too? ]

[dawnblushed]

[Yona isn't trying to hide, exactly. She just needs time to process everything that's happened before she goes back down to the surface. There are people down there that she cares about, people that she needs to be strong for, and she wants to make sure she can put on a brave face before she goes to see them again. She doesn't want them to worry.

She doesn't want Percival to worry, either, but since he's found her up here...

Well, she can guess what his being here means. And he's not unintelligent - he's sure to have some inkling of why she's here, too.]

Percival...? I didn't expect to see you here today...

[Did the kidnappers have something against redheads? Because damn. They're two for two, here.]

Reinhardtzar

[tzaraisen]

[ It takes a few days before Percival can work up the mental fortitude to leave Olympia, much less leave Olympia for the sake of traveling to Wyver. He knows it's risky, he knows doing such things are what landed himself and others into trouble in the first place.

But if they allowed themselves to be overtaken by fear, it's essentially admitting defeat.

He seeks out familiar faces. Reinhardtzar is, fortunately, quite easy to find fairly soon after getting into the city (big boi). ]

Reinhardtzar. Do you have a minute?

[reinhardtzar]

[ he gives him a wary look -- that is, after allowing his gaze to examine him from head to toe. evenly, he speaks: ]

You should be resting.

What is it?

Yusuke

[tzaraisen]

[ One of the first orders of business upon returning to El Nysa is to locate and determine the status of the very people who he had gotten into this mess. He feels deeply responsible, in a way, for exposing both Yusuke and Clair to that sort of danger. Even if it wasn't his fault, he'd instigated their presence.

The entire time that he'd been held captive in that school building, Percival was ridden with worry and doubt of Yusuke's whereabouts. Had he been tracked down after and subjected to the same interrogations? Was he safely back home?

He wastes no time in heading directly to the other's domicile, and if he could, he would have walked right in. Alas, it's locked, so he knocks. ]

oozes here

[tricksune]

[ That he'd escaped at all was both thanks to luck and Percival's struggle—had it been anyone less stalwart, they might've both been taken. If he'd been kidnapped too, would he have been able to help him? Would someone have saved Clair in turn?

It's all impossible to say. All he knows is he's mostly been confined to rest for a few days while he recovers; thanks to Ann's treatment, he's not in horrific shape, but it's enough that he's on door-duty for any visitors. ...Part of him is still wary answering, after all that's happened and the people lifted from their homes, but Percival doesn't have to wait long. He cracks the door ajar slightly—before it suddenly swings wide open. Yusuke balks briefly, not without words for long. ]

Percival. [ Though he isn't that visibly startled, just a little wide-eyed, there's something dazed in how he reaches out to grab him by the shoulder, as though testing if he's solid. ] You're all right?

[ He'd been missing so long now... ]

Red

[tzaraisen]

[ Percival still doesn't really know what to make of this... living thing that was apparently bestowed upon him soon after waking up from the dead. She's cute, to be sure, but given that he is constantly on the move, he isn't so sure it's a good idea for a pet to depend on him.

Regardless, he can't leave her, nor can he refuse Yusuke's request to bring her with him on his visit. She walks nicely on a leash, which makes Percival smile faintly with pride, though she does bark excitedly as soon as they reach the door of the house, apparently sensing another of its kind nearby. ]

Settle down.

only faster than nu, i'll take it

[persistor]

[ Coincidences don't get better than this, probably — Luna's restlessness is starting to get just distracting enough that maybe it's time for both of them to ... take a breather. Fresh air has never hurt anyone, surely.

Except they're not the only ones with the same idea — Red pauses at the sight of a familiar face at the door the moment she steps out. Oh. ( The giant, white robot dog is absolutely ecstatic to see another dog of its kind ("""kind""")!!! And barks happily, leaning down to sniff ("""sniff""") the Pomeranian. )

Hi. Her lips quirk up to a small smile, waving at their guest. Even if she's on her way out. Give her a moment to find her phone, and type up a quick message for him. ] Looking for someone?

Sandra

[tzaraisen]

[ It doesn't take long for Percival to push aside his troubles and focus on checking up on those he cares for. He spends only a day or so getting re-acclimated to the idea of being alive again, of being able to use all of his senses and not have to live in fear that falling asleep will mean certain death.

Well, he's still working on that last part. That isn't so easy to forget.

He messages Sandra on a quiet afternoon. He hopes dearly that he'll receive a response, and soon. ]

Sandra. Where might I find you?

[tutorb]

[ Well well well. Much as she's been wont to sulk as of late, she can hardly leave such a message on hold for long. ]

Where I can always be found, Percival... Though I suppose that has changed, since last we spoke.

[ Not that they'd ever met at her abode before anyway. She'll offer an address, as well as the promise someone would be around to let him in. The door would be unlocked. Something. Sandra's joke of a social life is probably exactly why they get robbed so much. ]

I must confess, I was not expecting to hear from you again.

Cain

[tzaraisen]

[ To return home has to be one of the most surreal experiences Percival has ever been through, and that includes the pain and suffering he'd just endured after encountering the heart of the Storm. It's surreal in that being completely unharmed and moving as easily as if nothing had ever happened feels wrong. It's a disconnect with the way his mind can't stop recounting every second of the inside of that school building.

Percival is strong, but he is still a human, and for a human, the concept of death is one of finality. He shouldn't be here, and yet he is.

He supposes he should be grateful, to have been granted a second chance at life, but instead, he is angry at needing it in the first place. He has never taken failure easily, after all, and this is no exception. Silently, he steps through the door of his home. It's quiet, and immediately, his thoughts turn to worry. Where was Cain? Was he still missing? He can feel his presence through their restored Pact, so he must have been spared the fate of death, but did he make it out of there safely?

The thought fills him with dread. ]

[baguablade]

[ Cain's been fretting for days. He's confined to bedrest, his injuries great enough that he can't even protest, barely able to wake for more than a few hours at a time. It's maddening, rescued from the long days of torture and exhaustion, only to have to endure more days of exhaustion, his own body forcing him unconsciousness rather than a spell this time.

And through it all, that nagging worry — where is Percival? That aching, cold place in his chest, the empty space where usually he can feel a hot snap of flame — Percival's flame, vibrant and alive. Missing. He knows why. There's only one reason why he wouldn't be able to feel Percival's warm presence, and that, more than his own injuries, more than the torture he's endured, is what's kept Cain quiet and subdued in bed for the past days.

Feeling that flame in his chest re-ignite is like coming back to life himself, lets him sleep easily for the first time since his abduction. He's asleep when Percival gets home, curled up in bed — in their bed, that's felt so empty — tucked into the corner against the wall, looking pale and small and fragile, swathed in bandages. Unlike Percival, he hasn't had the benefit of the Natha restoring him to health.

As the door to the room swings open, he stirs. His hand flies to his chest, to where that warmth is, steadily burning, noticeable now after its long, aching absence. He turns, sitting up abruptly, tangling himself in the sheets with his haste, twisting himself up in them as he scrambles to see who it is, his hope naked and desperate on his face. ]

You're alive—

Jean Valjean

[tzaraisen]

[ It is purely by chance that he finds Jean Valjean. He seeks him out, of course, because no one deserves his gratitude more than the man who had enough of a heart and compassion to keep a dying man comforted during his last minutes. But Jean Valjean doesn't exactly make himself easy to find. It occurs to Percival that he doesn't know where the other lives, what areas of Olympia he frequents, or who he might know.

He is mysterious, to say the least, but he doesn't give up. He searches throughout the next couple of days during his shifts, because he hasn't shied away from his Royal Guard duties, either.

Finally, he sees him, and walks calmly after him, placing a hand on his shoulder to try and prevent him from walking away further. ]

Fauchelevent. I have been searching for you. Do you have a moment?

[almaredemptoris]

[Jean Valjean is as easy to catch as a ripple moving across the water's surface, slipping away as soon as one reaches out to touch it. Because too much solitude invites rumor and suspicion, he curates a public life to make himself just visible enough to others while keeping to the people's peripherals. He picks up odd jobs to carve out a living; takes long, winding walks about the city with no daughter at his elbow; and gives alms to the poor with little regard for the fact that, with his impressive life's earnings lost, he ranks among them, but always taking different routes on different days of the week. He little expects the hand placed upon his shoulder. His muscles tense. His eyes when he turns are sharp, the eyes of a man ready to preserve himself. When he sees who has stopped him, however - the realization of it striking like a cast stone - he blanches. His expression goes slack and his voice hollow.] Percival? But how--? How can this be? [Here is the man whose soul had fled his body while gathered in Jean Valjean's own arms. The man for whom he had so fervently prayed, and for whom the innocent Clair had so earnestly wept.]

Akira

[tzaraisen]

[ It isn't more than a few days after his return to El Nysa, but Percival finds himself enjoying the idea of staying home alone less and less. It's not that he's afraid; he'd been with others when the incidents occurred, after all, but being alone with his thoughts wasn't a pleasant experience lately.

Instead, he embraces distractions more readily than he might have in the past, and that includes paying others a visit. He has spent the better part of the afternoon watching Yusuke paint in his room, or rather, halfheartedly watching him paint while he reads a part of his novel. Eventually, he wanders into the kitchen area, intent on grabbing a cup of water, and finds the young man they'd infiltrated the Guard house with earlier. ]

Ah, it's you again. You are one of Yusuke's close friends, are you not? It occurs to me that we've never been properly introduced.

[larsenist]

[ He had heard Percival enter through the front door earlier, though he hadn't managed a glimpse of the redhead before he'd vanished to see Yusuke. It feels somewhat forced to interrupt the visit empty-handed, so Akira takes to the kitchen instead, strategically preparing a cup of coffee to bring to their guest. (He might do the same for his housemate but the beverage would most likely go cold, if not evaporate before their resident painter even noticed it...)

...It's Percival that finds him first. The boy glances to him with a fleeting smile before returning his attention to his work—pour over ritual apparently not to be interrupted even for the resurrected. (He's aware by now, of his passing and return...)

He nods once, then shrugs, before sliding a freshly-filled mug toward him. ]

On the house.

[ He returns to his brewing equipment, as if intent on ignoring the earlier prompting, before suddenly and quietly adding, ]

...It's Akira.

love me

[defenses]

[ being a knight wasn't always a simple and straightforward endeavor. it was natural it was a path full of trials and tribulations. there were always attempts at people's lives. their kingdoms constantly in some sort of peril— whether seen on the surface or not.

this isn't the first time something of this sort had happened. hearing his companions fall to a dark situation— being held captive or otherwise. it never gets easier and vane can never really tear himself from the idea that he wasn't there for them when it may have been most dire and crucial. even now, that sense of responsibility hasn't left him completely.

but, it's an irrefutable fact that percy was standing in front of him presently. it's a weird feeling, and though it's been the span of a couple of days, it almost feels like he's never felt percival was so distant. even when traveling their separate paths, he's never felt this level of divide, and he isn't sure if it comes from his own perception of everything— his emotions muddled with relief, displeasure of the events, anger that it happened, etc. though of course, he knows which one weighs the most and it become increasingly obvious as he instantly seizes percival's shoulders. as always it's impulse that drives him and so...

he shakes him a few times. ] Percival! [ it's probably one of the few times he uses his actual given name (especially, not when speaking to someone else), but it's almost like he isn't sure if it is him. or maybe he feels as if this is some sort of test and if he doesn't get it right the first time ...

well, maybe it's simply because he feels it's right. whatever it is, the name slips off his tongue easily enough. ]

[tzaraisen]

[ In all of the time that they have fought together as knights, it has always been Percival scolding the others for their foolishness and recklessness. For allowing themselves to be captured, tricked, or otherwise bested. He'd grown accustomed to saving his friends from such perils, but very rarely falling into them himself.

Which is why, aside from never having experienced death before, much less lived again to tell about it, this is all so very new. He isn't sure what to expect when he returns back home, his mood clearly more somber than usual, but passerbys on the street seem more than happy to see him. They are being lauded as heroes, or so he understands, and Percival can't imagine anything less heroic than the reality...

Unwanted praise aside, his walk and return to Olympia is relatively normal. He isn't sure whether to hope for peace and quiet, or if the boisterous voice of Vane and Cain would put his mind more at ease.

Can his mind be put at ease right now?

He's ready to face his friends now, but he isn't ready for the sort of reaction Vane throws at him immediately. Percival, clearly shaken and surprised both by the intensity of Vane coming towards him and grabbing him and the usage of his proper name.

For the first time, Vane may be witnessing true, dumbfounded shock. ]

Vane. [ His own voice is uncharacteristically low. ]

[underwhelms]

[ Seeing a world class skating rink again is enough to make JJ want to weep. He's proud of the little one that he's built in Olympia, and while it has its charms, it's not meant for competitive skating. The open air is warm (metaphorically) and inviting, but it doesn't allow for much quiet and focus. Sometimes JJ wants to be able to work without an audience, or at least not one that isn't trained in the sport.

Not that anyone is trained in the sport. There are actually people in Olympia familiar with figure skating, though of course they only know the native version of it, and JJ is ecstatic to learn all about it but. He misses the familiarity of what he knows.

It doesn't even matter to him that this is just a memory of his replaying, JJ doesn't waste a second before running down the stands, eager to find a pair of skates so that he can take to the ice—it's not like anyone can see him, so it doesn't matter.

But all thoughts fly from his head when he gets there and he spots—well, himself, but more importantly, ]Oh! [ his parents, and he barely even thinks before throwing his arms around his mother (she doesn't react), his face buried in her shoulder, breathing harshly against the prickle in his eyes.

The music carries over to the end of Otabek's performance, and the JJ competing in the 2015 Grand Prix Final gets ready for his turn, but it doesn't matter. ]

[tzaraisen]

[ Percival isn't sure when the transition from reality to receiving a glimpse into JJ's mind happened, as it seemed to be a gradual progression. Little by little, the stands had filled, with increasingly unfamiliar faces, and the energy in the rink had transformed from something casual to eager faces clearly expecting to see something world class.

It's worrisome, knowing that something is clearly wrong, and not having any idea how to disrupt the illusions. He lingers close to the stands, between them and the ice itself, frantically looking around to see if he can find JJ and figure out how to escape together.

He finds JJ, but not the JJ he expects. He approaches regardless, and now up close and personal, the sight is even more worrying. He gently, with a lot of hesitation, puts his hand on the other man's shoulder. ] Jean-Jacques? [ He's upset... this must be someone important to him. His attention briefly shifts back to the ice with the change in the music. ]

I see... this is a previous memory of yours.

i was afk, what's going on

[insist]

[ He needs to doubletake, but he does remember this person now. Yes. At least, he definitely remembers the flashy armor they're walking around in - something even Rohan had found a bit excessive, which said a lot considering what he wears on the daily. Anyway, they're here in front of the clothing store, and while Rohan isn't actively trying to strike up a conversation he does tend to say whatever he's feeling at the moment so -- ]

Ahh, it's you again, that excessively-red man. We met on the station. [ And he opened himself up to Percival -- in the literal sense. He literally opened up his skin in front of Percival. ]

Come to think of it, don't you also live with Vane? [ Vane, who he's visited a few times at this point. If Percival's wondering who that fried chicken ice-cream in the freezer was from, it's this asshole. ]

[tzaraisen]

[ Just once, Percival is trying to enjoy a spring day without much of a hassle. Spring being here means that he could use a wardrobe refresh, especially now that he's accumulated a good amount of money.

He turns to look at the man, frowning in recognition. ]

And it's you. Did you pick up any manners since we last met, or are you still vulgar and uncouth?

[ He just... didn't like his junk being grabbed like that ok.....

He crosses his arms, curious enough to continue engaging, at least. ]

Yes, what of it? How do you know Vane?