[ It's with Aerith at his side that Claude finds himself swaying awkwardly on his feet, beneath the ghostly banner of something that should not exist. Though she is certainly not an adequate enough build to lean against him to act as a beam of support, she tries anyway. She'd abandoned conversation to rush up to him the moment she spotted him— her touch is gentle but firm enough to speak true to the sheer amount of robust energy in her. If nothing else, she is committed to supporting him.
Adjusting her weight so she might act as a better balancing support, Aerith listens to him speak. With a chipper tone, she squeaks, ] You could be.
[ It's never easy to tell how serious she is. She'll call you a date and abandon you in the same breath, after all. ] Would it... make you feel any better if I said... I think I am, too, Claude?
[ It doesn't take much to support Claude. He's always been oddly resilient, no matter what's come his way; what he's been missing most of his life is the lightest touch against his arm, more a reminder that he's not left to reel alone than he needs the physical support. ]
I'm not sure if that's better or worse, [ he says, a frisson of humour still laced through his weak voice. The images he'd seen are like none he's ever seen before. There's no reason for him to be thinking about anything like that, let alone let his mind conjure up such an odd fantasy. ] Did you see something too?
[ Silence visits them both as Aerith holds him tight. Whether it's for her own benefit or his, at this juncture, is surely a secret for them both to hold on. In complete truthfulness, her expression is peppered suddenly with worry, disorientation coming through easily. Resilience is something they have in common, but: ]
Better together than alone... I think! [ She does not sounds particularly sure of this as she says it, looking up at him and trying to hide away all the parts of her expression that can read as anything less than confident. ]
Hey, don't leave me hanging. I've got your arm, I'll support you through it, so... What'd you feel? And see?
You look almost as taken aback as I am, [ Claude says, something gently accusatory in his voice as he reaches up to pat her hand fondly. He can't quite read her expression, but there's something else there, isn't there?
He knows things have been strange recently. Eerie, almost, as though they're teetering on the precipice of something new. Perhaps a scant month ago, he would rejoice at the idea; this place has been stagnant for so long that all he's wanted was something new. But now that it seems to be happening, he's not so certain.
Claude tugs her along so that they're away from prying eyes and ears, though he makes no effort to extract her arm from his. ]
You have to tell me what you saw too, okay? Tit for tat. [ That's the way it's always been. A story for a song, right? ] I saw...
[ He closes his eyes. ]
Some sort of battle, I think. I was right there in the middle of it, with... a bow? And a sword? A bunch of armed soldiers were attacking what -- must have been some sort of academy? There were a bunch of people in uniform, all trying to run before they were struck down. They were just kids. [ He shakes his head. ] It all seemed so archaic.
[ He catches her so easily, like snapping a photo. Aerith's expression tenses as Claude calls her out on it, showing no reservation in describing the souring of her smile as taken aback. True, she thinks silently, she is taken aback, knocked off her constant expert spin through life.
So she listens, nodding and looking to the cobblestones that pass as they walk, aimless in their exchange. Tit for tat, she agrees with a short, burdened nod, thin brown brows cinched together in consider. A part of her worries not for coming off as crazy; they'd both be spilling on their psychotic little breaks, or whatever these are. What Claude paints is a somber image of something far older than both of them, and Aerith raises her head to look at him in carefully measured consideration, trying to make sure he doesn't realize too soon she's not seen anything quite so war-torn. Still— ]
Maybe it's a past life. Do you believe in those? [ Maybe if she's more collected in her response, it won't be so scary. Will it? ] It'd explain... why you saw that, but I saw something entirely different. Some things, [ comes her clarification; it is not just one thing she's seen and heard and felt. ]
For me— I was real little. At the time, I was in bed. I remember I thought how strange it was to have my own bed for the first time, and then... I saw a man. He was dressed like he went to war. He said... goodbye. And then he disappeared. I was so scared, but I knew I had to tell the woman downstairs what I saw. [ The details, hazy but so clear, feel like something she'd observed through a rain-drenched window. A message for someone else, given to her, but not her. Is that right? How strange. She squeezes Claude's arm, whispering, then: ] And there were more. But the weirdest one, honestly? It wasn't like remembering something at all. But... like, revisiting a feeling. It was so weird.
I never believed in a past life before. But now? I'm beginning to. I can't imagine myself caught up in all that. You know me, Aerith -- I'd flirt with a fly, but I'd never hurt one, [ he says, his own smile coming up a little empty. He can't get a good read on Aerith right now. There's something tender in her, something sore, something brittle that she's trying to soften. Maybe she's just scared too. Scared, and trying to make him feel better.
He wonders how many people she's told about these visions, and what reactions she's been given. If she told him this without him having a vision of his own, he probably would have fretted over her, thinking that she was having hallucinations born of some illness or drug.
But what drug would cause her to have a vision like that? It's true that he'd felt as though he was deep in it too, but that's different than what Aerith is talking about, a feeling with nuance, a feeling that you cradle to your chest. ]
If you're crazy, then I am too. A vision of a past life is one thing, but would you really remember feelings that vivid? What purpose would a vision like that have? [ His lips thin. ]
Maybe... maybe that man fought in the same war I remember? Did you feel anything towards him? Fear, or love, or -- anything like that?
[ She catches a laugh in her throat, as if this is all pushing her to the edge of a cliff and she's about to dive full into the madness of it all. Maybe she is, because Aerith considers what Claude asks: Did they share a lifetime beyond this one? Maybe, she muses to no one but herself, and if they did, she'd like to think they were friends. Instead of letting the laugh free, she has to turn her head again to look at him, smiling in a way that crinkles the corners of her eyes without offering any real consolation. ]
I was scared of him... I had never seen something like that. But I knew that he came to say goodbye to someone he really, really loved, and I had to tell her as soon as possible. [ A ghost, then, and she truly believes herself crazy now. She's glad he's prompted her, rather than offering the information herself. It feels a little less crazy to tango in this manner. ] I think that person was... my mom? [ But she could not find any recollection of that man as her father. Not one bit. Then again, Aerith wouldn't have ever recognized either of her parents; not before now, at least. ]
Was that your only one? [ Terseness decorates her question like bullet holes in a door. This was a point she had wanted to bring up but there is no natural way to ask if one has had other hallucinations. ]
Your mom? [ Claude's brow furrows as he tries to put the pieces together. Aerith's vision had been so much smaller, he thinks, more intimate, more steeped in mixed emotions so unlike Claude's own vision of terror and defeat. He idly rubs the palms of his hands together as he thinks, expression as sharp as it ever is. He may be able to play the brainless hedonist around others, but Aerith already knows him better than that; there's no reason to disguise his true thought patterns in front of her. ]
That's interesting. That makes it feel realer, doesn't it? What I saw -- I could make it up, I suppose. Everyone's scared of that sort of thing. But I don't think you'd be able to think of coming up with something like that. That's not a bad trip, it's...
[ Memory. ]
That was my only one. [ He pauses, then amends: ] My first one, if I'm catching what you're putting down. What else did you see?
[ A fleeting smile finds her lips as he speak. A suspicion goes confirmed in Aerith's mind, one that lingers despite the lack of welcome she offers it. ] Oh, you know. The usual.
[ She's not going to shut down on him, but muses silently to herself about the burden she places on his shoulders by giving unto Clade the series of hallucinations that flitted into her mind with all the naturalness of a bird flapping it's wings. So she keeps her arm in his, thoughtfully, slow and easy steps turning into swings of her legs as she ponders. Then, imagining there's no reason to not give him what he wants, as she always does, she nods. ]
You're right. It's not a bad trip. Because I... don't do drugs. [ Her voice turns sweetly thick, like she's told a horrible joke. Then, she lifts her gaze back to Claude's, only to offer up information in a straightforward turn. ] Here's the thing. I also... remembered a church. And a man falling through the room. Not to mention, Cloud and I? We kind of had a moment. So nope! No way it's a bad trip, if we can share them. I mean, you ever see the same thing as someone you're tripping with, Claude?
You guys had a moment? Has that man finally swept you off your feet? Gods, you should see the look on his face while you're performing sometimes. Absolutely pathetic.
[ He says it with all of the fondness and affection in the world; he's rooting for these two dumb kids, in absence of his ability to worm his way in there as a third. Which would be unwise for any number of reasons, largely that the two of them likely deserve better than a fellow like him.
He forces himself to lower his thick brows, though a smile still twists at his mouth. ]
Sorry, sorry. We were discussing more important matters, weren't we? [ Still, that twinkle returned to his eye. If there's one thing about Claude, it's that he's an incorrigible busybody, though he truly wants the best for them. He squeezes her arm. ]
I've never shared a trip, no. So. You and Cloud, you guys shared the same memory? What were you doing in it?
[ A number of complexities that emerged over a realization that sharing hallucinations is fully possible would be undone if it had just been smooching. Aerith angles her elbow then, with this thought in her mind, just to prod Claude in the side with a smile, the curl of her lips both challenging and teasing. ] Not that kind of moment, silly billy. You'd be the first to know if it did, anyway.
[ Much like how she insists on knowing what Claude is up to. Or who, rather. ] Well, anyway...
Cloud? He was dancing in our memory. And I was watching him. Shoe was on the other foot for a moment. And to be honest, I bet you'd be looking at him like that if you'd seen it yourself. Talk about busting a move.
[ So, no. She doesn't think her and Claude have the memory in common, but... ] So you now you can talk to him about it, too, now. Makes things a little easier, doesn't it?
Wait, Cloud was the one dancing? Now I wish I shared visions with you guys. That sounds like a sight to behold.
[ And maybe a little less... lonely. To have had a past life with another, or to have another in your, what, premonitions? Means that at least you'll have someone else by your side. Claude's own vision is still haunting him, the stricken looks of students rushing past that he couldn't recognize, the blond kid beside him that he felt like he should know, but didn't. ]
But... thanks for letting me know, Aerith. If you want to tell Cloud I saw something too, you can. But just Cloud. I don't think my reputation would survive the hit of having visions on top of everything else.
Oh, you bet he was. If it makes you feel any better, he really got down on the dancefloor right after. It was that night at the pub, when there was that arm wrestling contest in the back that everyone someone managed to lose...
[ A flicker of wonderment is laced through her tone, as if somehow she's truly impressed by that feat. Between them, arm in arm, Aerith lets her gaze wander up, past the gray cobblestone and into the open, clear sky. It's always a perfect day in Aldrip— as the thought floats to the forefront of her mind, she raises her hand again, placing it higher upon Claude's bicep. How strange, to not once have a memory of rain, or any upset at all, really. ]
Speaking of... you doing alright, Claude? Lately, I've been thinking... I should be checking on you more often.
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expiationlogs2024-03-09 08:37 am
ii
Adjusting her weight so she might act as a better balancing support, Aerith listens to him speak. With a chipper tone, she squeaks, ] You could be.
[ It's never easy to tell how serious she is. She'll call you a date and abandon you in the same breath, after all. ] Would it... make you feel any better if I said... I think I am, too, Claude?
no subject
[ It doesn't take much to support Claude. He's always been oddly resilient, no matter what's come his way; what he's been missing most of his life is the lightest touch against his arm, more a reminder that he's not left to reel alone than he needs the physical support. ]
I'm not sure if that's better or worse, [ he says, a frisson of humour still laced through his weak voice. The images he'd seen are like none he's ever seen before. There's no reason for him to be thinking about anything like that, let alone let his mind conjure up such an odd fantasy. ] Did you see something too?
no subject
[ Silence visits them both as Aerith holds him tight. Whether it's for her own benefit or his, at this juncture, is surely a secret for them both to hold on. In complete truthfulness, her expression is peppered suddenly with worry, disorientation coming through easily. Resilience is something they have in common, but: ]
Better together than alone... I think! [ She does not sounds particularly sure of this as she says it, looking up at him and trying to hide away all the parts of her expression that can read as anything less than confident. ]
Hey, don't leave me hanging. I've got your arm, I'll support you through it, so... What'd you feel? And see?
no subject
He knows things have been strange recently. Eerie, almost, as though they're teetering on the precipice of something new. Perhaps a scant month ago, he would rejoice at the idea; this place has been stagnant for so long that all he's wanted was something new. But now that it seems to be happening, he's not so certain.
Claude tugs her along so that they're away from prying eyes and ears, though he makes no effort to extract her arm from his. ]
You have to tell me what you saw too, okay? Tit for tat. [ That's the way it's always been. A story for a song, right? ] I saw...
[ He closes his eyes. ]
Some sort of battle, I think. I was right there in the middle of it, with... a bow? And a sword? A bunch of armed soldiers were attacking what -- must have been some sort of academy? There were a bunch of people in uniform, all trying to run before they were struck down. They were just kids. [ He shakes his head. ] It all seemed so archaic.
Is that anything like what you saw?
no subject
So she listens, nodding and looking to the cobblestones that pass as they walk, aimless in their exchange. Tit for tat, she agrees with a short, burdened nod, thin brown brows cinched together in consider. A part of her worries not for coming off as crazy; they'd both be spilling on their psychotic little breaks, or whatever these are. What Claude paints is a somber image of something far older than both of them, and Aerith raises her head to look at him in carefully measured consideration, trying to make sure he doesn't realize too soon she's not seen anything quite so war-torn. Still— ]
Maybe it's a past life. Do you believe in those? [ Maybe if she's more collected in her response, it won't be so scary. Will it? ] It'd explain... why you saw that, but I saw something entirely different. Some things, [ comes her clarification; it is not just one thing she's seen and heard and felt. ]
For me— I was real little. At the time, I was in bed. I remember I thought how strange it was to have my own bed for the first time, and then... I saw a man. He was dressed like he went to war. He said... goodbye. And then he disappeared. I was so scared, but I knew I had to tell the woman downstairs what I saw. [ The details, hazy but so clear, feel like something she'd observed through a rain-drenched window. A message for someone else, given to her, but not her. Is that right? How strange. She squeezes Claude's arm, whispering, then: ] And there were more. But the weirdest one, honestly? It wasn't like remembering something at all. But... like, revisiting a feeling. It was so weird.
...Crazy, right?
no subject
He wonders how many people she's told about these visions, and what reactions she's been given. If she told him this without him having a vision of his own, he probably would have fretted over her, thinking that she was having hallucinations born of some illness or drug.
But what drug would cause her to have a vision like that? It's true that he'd felt as though he was deep in it too, but that's different than what Aerith is talking about, a feeling with nuance, a feeling that you cradle to your chest. ]
If you're crazy, then I am too. A vision of a past life is one thing, but would you really remember feelings that vivid? What purpose would a vision like that have? [ His lips thin. ]
Maybe... maybe that man fought in the same war I remember? Did you feel anything towards him? Fear, or love, or -- anything like that?
no subject
I was scared of him... I had never seen something like that. But I knew that he came to say goodbye to someone he really, really loved, and I had to tell her as soon as possible. [ A ghost, then, and she truly believes herself crazy now. She's glad he's prompted her, rather than offering the information herself. It feels a little less crazy to tango in this manner. ] I think that person was... my mom? [ But she could not find any recollection of that man as her father. Not one bit. Then again, Aerith wouldn't have ever recognized either of her parents; not before now, at least. ]
Was that your only one? [ Terseness decorates her question like bullet holes in a door. This was a point she had wanted to bring up but there is no natural way to ask if one has had other hallucinations. ]
no subject
That's interesting. That makes it feel realer, doesn't it? What I saw -- I could make it up, I suppose. Everyone's scared of that sort of thing. But I don't think you'd be able to think of coming up with something like that. That's not a bad trip, it's...
[ Memory. ]
That was my only one. [ He pauses, then amends: ] My first one, if I'm catching what you're putting down. What else did you see?
no subject
[ She's not going to shut down on him, but muses silently to herself about the burden she places on his shoulders by giving unto Clade the series of hallucinations that flitted into her mind with all the naturalness of a bird flapping it's wings. So she keeps her arm in his, thoughtfully, slow and easy steps turning into swings of her legs as she ponders. Then, imagining there's no reason to not give him what he wants, as she always does, she nods. ]
You're right. It's not a bad trip. Because I... don't do drugs. [ Her voice turns sweetly thick, like she's told a horrible joke. Then, she lifts her gaze back to Claude's, only to offer up information in a straightforward turn. ] Here's the thing. I also... remembered a church. And a man falling through the room. Not to mention, Cloud and I? We kind of had a moment. So nope! No way it's a bad trip, if we can share them. I mean, you ever see the same thing as someone you're tripping with, Claude?
no subject
[ He says it with all of the fondness and affection in the world; he's rooting for these two dumb kids, in absence of his ability to worm his way in there as a third. Which would be unwise for any number of reasons, largely that the two of them likely deserve better than a fellow like him.
He forces himself to lower his thick brows, though a smile still twists at his mouth. ]
Sorry, sorry. We were discussing more important matters, weren't we? [ Still, that twinkle returned to his eye. If there's one thing about Claude, it's that he's an incorrigible busybody, though he truly wants the best for them. He squeezes her arm. ]
I've never shared a trip, no. So. You and Cloud, you guys shared the same memory? What were you doing in it?
[ Smooching? It'd better be smooching. ]
no subject
[ Much like how she insists on knowing what Claude is up to. Or who, rather. ] Well, anyway...
Cloud? He was dancing in our memory. And I was watching him. Shoe was on the other foot for a moment. And to be honest, I bet you'd be looking at him like that if you'd seen it yourself. Talk about busting a move.
[ So, no. She doesn't think her and Claude have the memory in common, but... ] So you now you can talk to him about it, too, now. Makes things a little easier, doesn't it?
no subject
[ And maybe a little less... lonely. To have had a past life with another, or to have another in your, what, premonitions? Means that at least you'll have someone else by your side. Claude's own vision is still haunting him, the stricken looks of students rushing past that he couldn't recognize, the blond kid beside him that he felt like he should know, but didn't. ]
But... thanks for letting me know, Aerith. If you want to tell Cloud I saw something too, you can. But just Cloud. I don't think my reputation would survive the hit of having visions on top of everything else.
no subject
[ A flicker of wonderment is laced through her tone, as if somehow she's truly impressed by that feat. Between them, arm in arm, Aerith lets her gaze wander up, past the gray cobblestone and into the open, clear sky. It's always a perfect day in Aldrip— as the thought floats to the forefront of her mind, she raises her hand again, placing it higher upon Claude's bicep. How strange, to not once have a memory of rain, or any upset at all, really. ]
Speaking of... you doing alright, Claude? Lately, I've been thinking... I should be checking on you more often.