Anna Amarande (
hauntedsavior) wrote in
deercountry2021-12-07 02:00 pm
we begin vindicated [open]
Who: Anna Amarande and you!
What: Event catch-all
When: Throughout December
Where: In Trench, in the sixth layer of Recollé, and 9,920 years in the future
Content Warnings: Eye trauma, explosions, hunting, blood, likely mentions of sacrificial death and depersonalization
Creating a Winter Mourning comes as an easy feat to Anna. She's been doing more than enough of it lately in a much more literal sense. Having a blessing towards some of the Pthumerians she hasn't had the chance to commune with yet probably can't be a bad thing.
It's glowing, the light serving as a gently pulsing beacon outside her window. Looking at it is almost mesmerizing; for a moment, it feels like it's going to bring peace to the torment that she's been feeling inside since the month turned. She reaches out and touches it, and in an instant...
a. we forget who we were meant to be
It's 2019. From the other wall of a glass jar, a white-haired woman with one eye is crawling through a ruined, sickly-green lab. She is not screaming in pain, but she is crying. No blood spills from her face, but she still would never wish anyone to see her like this. Her hand comes down on shards of broken glass, but she barely registers it. The air around her swirls with white souls that, in the flickering light and the ambient energy, almost seem to take form around the pathetic, destroyed woman.
Anna never wondered what she looked like when this happened. She knows everything about the events that just transpired, and her spectral head looks to the area that her younger self is crawling from. The brain that stole her eye is dead, and within this sixth layer of reality, the boundary between Anna, A2, 2B, and Kainé is thinner than ever. It's a wonder that she's able to maintain her own form even as a memory, because as she thinks about it all, she can feel her body flickering to take on the shape of the other women. She looks around to see if anyone followed her down—if she's experiencing her own memories then it makes sense someone else is there with her—and mutters somewhat musically, "Pay no attention to the ghost that follows."
b. a broken image of how it should be
It's 11,941, give or take a year, and two YoRHa units stand off to the side watching an enormous explosion in the distance. Anna, or at least the person who people have come to know as Anna, stands behind a cleaner, less ruined version of the android she's turning into. That android is on her knees, almost ready to weep, in front of a massive army of bronze-bodied, red-eyed machines. In an instant, the android shoves herself to her feet and screams a battle cry. A wave of debris follows from the explosion, taking out nearly everything between her and the epicenter. The shockwave stops before it can reach the android, but she won't let that stop her from trying to take down every last machine in her path. Her sword, less elegant than the one on Anna's back, flashes as she goes on the attack.
Anna stands there, her eyepatch fresh and new in black, her clothing an elegant, meticulously-stitched dress, her heels adding even more height to her form. She is not moving, though, not joining the fight. Because she knows full well what this is and what just happened. The person next to her may elect to join the fight with the not-truly-nameless android, the one whose appearance would match Anna's perfectly were it not for the eyepatch, or they may wish to stand back and speak with her. The bloodlust that often fuels Anna in these battles is not present at the moment; instead, she almost seems relieved.
c. crack a smile and lie through our teeth
Or, perhaps, she doesn't touch the Mourning. She leaves it to rest in her home and takes her blade out with her to the streets. Her longcoat high, the brim of her hat over her face, her eyepatch gone revealing the intimidating black-gold glass beneath it. Her blade stays in one hand, and the gun that Ruby Rose has been training her how to use is in the other. Shields are nice, but not if they engender passivity.
She stalks the streets in the pale moonlight, succumbing to the vengeance deep within her. Emotions that should be directed inward are ready to explode outward, and she is fully prepared to become a creature of persistence. An android designed only for combat, ready to lash out at the world that has stolen her from the city she loves.
A hunter must hunt. She has no need for traps, for subterfuge. The Amaranth's strategy has never once progressed beyond having a sword. She stands there on the wet cobblestones, stock still in front of what may be prey or what may be an ally, insofar as there are any allies to be had in this wretched night. She tilts her head up and sniffs the air. "What's that smell?" she rasps out. "The sweet blood... it sings to me." It may be gauche to tell someone your blood type, but are you willing to risk silence?
d. in the end we would rather be anything but lonely
((more prompts to be added. if you're interested in more, DM me or hit me up on
roseward!!)))
What: Event catch-all
When: Throughout December
Where: In Trench, in the sixth layer of Recollé, and 9,920 years in the future
Content Warnings: Eye trauma, explosions, hunting, blood, likely mentions of sacrificial death and depersonalization
Creating a Winter Mourning comes as an easy feat to Anna. She's been doing more than enough of it lately in a much more literal sense. Having a blessing towards some of the Pthumerians she hasn't had the chance to commune with yet probably can't be a bad thing.
It's glowing, the light serving as a gently pulsing beacon outside her window. Looking at it is almost mesmerizing; for a moment, it feels like it's going to bring peace to the torment that she's been feeling inside since the month turned. She reaches out and touches it, and in an instant...
a. we forget who we were meant to be
It's 2019. From the other wall of a glass jar, a white-haired woman with one eye is crawling through a ruined, sickly-green lab. She is not screaming in pain, but she is crying. No blood spills from her face, but she still would never wish anyone to see her like this. Her hand comes down on shards of broken glass, but she barely registers it. The air around her swirls with white souls that, in the flickering light and the ambient energy, almost seem to take form around the pathetic, destroyed woman.
Anna never wondered what she looked like when this happened. She knows everything about the events that just transpired, and her spectral head looks to the area that her younger self is crawling from. The brain that stole her eye is dead, and within this sixth layer of reality, the boundary between Anna, A2, 2B, and Kainé is thinner than ever. It's a wonder that she's able to maintain her own form even as a memory, because as she thinks about it all, she can feel her body flickering to take on the shape of the other women. She looks around to see if anyone followed her down—if she's experiencing her own memories then it makes sense someone else is there with her—and mutters somewhat musically, "Pay no attention to the ghost that follows."
b. a broken image of how it should be
It's 11,941, give or take a year, and two YoRHa units stand off to the side watching an enormous explosion in the distance. Anna, or at least the person who people have come to know as Anna, stands behind a cleaner, less ruined version of the android she's turning into. That android is on her knees, almost ready to weep, in front of a massive army of bronze-bodied, red-eyed machines. In an instant, the android shoves herself to her feet and screams a battle cry. A wave of debris follows from the explosion, taking out nearly everything between her and the epicenter. The shockwave stops before it can reach the android, but she won't let that stop her from trying to take down every last machine in her path. Her sword, less elegant than the one on Anna's back, flashes as she goes on the attack.
Anna stands there, her eyepatch fresh and new in black, her clothing an elegant, meticulously-stitched dress, her heels adding even more height to her form. She is not moving, though, not joining the fight. Because she knows full well what this is and what just happened. The person next to her may elect to join the fight with the not-truly-nameless android, the one whose appearance would match Anna's perfectly were it not for the eyepatch, or they may wish to stand back and speak with her. The bloodlust that often fuels Anna in these battles is not present at the moment; instead, she almost seems relieved.
c. crack a smile and lie through our teeth
Or, perhaps, she doesn't touch the Mourning. She leaves it to rest in her home and takes her blade out with her to the streets. Her longcoat high, the brim of her hat over her face, her eyepatch gone revealing the intimidating black-gold glass beneath it. Her blade stays in one hand, and the gun that Ruby Rose has been training her how to use is in the other. Shields are nice, but not if they engender passivity.
She stalks the streets in the pale moonlight, succumbing to the vengeance deep within her. Emotions that should be directed inward are ready to explode outward, and she is fully prepared to become a creature of persistence. An android designed only for combat, ready to lash out at the world that has stolen her from the city she loves.
A hunter must hunt. She has no need for traps, for subterfuge. The Amaranth's strategy has never once progressed beyond having a sword. She stands there on the wet cobblestones, stock still in front of what may be prey or what may be an ally, insofar as there are any allies to be had in this wretched night. She tilts her head up and sniffs the air. "What's that smell?" she rasps out. "The sweet blood... it sings to me." It may be gauche to tell someone your blood type, but are you willing to risk silence?
d. in the end we would rather be anything but lonely
((more prompts to be added. if you're interested in more, DM me or hit me up on

a
He doesn't quite think about the fact that the Anna he knows already has an eyepatch, that she's older, that he was just in his house and drawn to the wreath of antlers that Flynn put together. That she's standing right next to him. She says something, and Yuri jerks his head at her words, stumbling over his feet.
"Anna?"
He looks between the Anna next to him, and the Anna on the floor, trying to process this. He still wants to help, still needs to help. "The ghost..?"
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"It's a song. The 'ghost that follows' part happened earlier, actually," she says just as mysteriously. But maybe she's just doing cryptic bullshit to take her mind off seeing this from the outside. Hovering there in her difficult-to-maintain form, she's perfectly fine just watching and talking. She's not sure she can change this anyway.
"This is right after I lost my eye," she explains. She's told him a little about it, sure, but not the immediate aftermath. "But I didn't know my brain kept this part. The next thing I remember after it happened is getting outside and staggering home." A knowing pause, a glance towards Yuri. "I don't even remember how I found my way out."
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He asks it like she'll know the answer. He takes a step back, straightening up, even if part of him wants to go down there and help.
And then there's the whole floating thing. He glances at her, then away, then back. "There's a lot happening right now."
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"Maybe it wanted me to see. Maybe I just didn't know how much this hurt." She inhales as she reaches out to touch the crown of her younger self's head, then stops in place when she sees her spectral hand shift to a different woman's, one who is definitely not her. It chills her spine. Her voice doesn't sound different outside of her own ears when she asks, "Is this really me...?" Her jaw falls just a little slack as her ghostly hand runs through—past—her own hair.
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That's something he sort of understands, at least. It's happened to him, he's seen it in others.
But he refocuses on the Anna on the ground. "I guess we can't help her. You. What happened to you?"
He doesn't know the details, didn't want to ask, before. It's her business, and if she doesn't want to say now, either, that's her choice.
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B
One hand sheepishly grips the bicep of her other arm.
"...So- Do you happen to know what's going on here?"
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"This is a memory from A2. Right when she lost her squad. That explosion out there?" She jerks her head past the fray, towards where the scent of fire is spreading. "That was one of her own, sacrificing herself to save A2." A pause. "Her name was No.4. I think A2 loved her."
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"That's really sad... But I guess kind of beautiful in a way." There's a pause before she continues to ask.
"...And just who is A2 to you?"
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"A2 is part of me. She's the Ozpin to my Oscar," she says in a way that she knows Ruby will understand, "And for a while I was worried she was going to take me over. But we're a team, both of us living inside one person." And she's sure of that by now. A simple change of location can't remove that. "I get her strength, her memories, her body. And she gets..." That's a damn good question. A pause, then she gives her standard answer. "...A better ending."
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Still she listens and softens up a little, even reaching up to put a hand on Anna's shoulder.
"That's kind of awesome in it's own right. Having a teammate who's always by your side. It's a little inspiring." She hears that casual answer and she gives her own little shrug.
"Then I guess that means you have to be at the top of your game for her to get that ending- ...Or maybe there is more to it than that and just haven't realized it either."
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b
After all, she has been going around and recklessly touching these things, just because it was said to bring relief in the long run - even if the price for it is witnessing things out of the blue. Sometimes even without her realising what she is witnessing, who the sight belongs to.
This time, however, it's a little easier. Despite the sheer chaos of what she is witnessing, it's very obvious who this particular memory belongs to. After all, the android fighting over there looks pretty much like Anna. Enough so that - even if it was not Anna, but a sister or something - it is a memory that couldn't just belong to any other world.
And Ange's suspicion is confirmed when she sees the actual Anna standing there. Despite nothing about this intense situation seeming to touch Ange, like she's little more than a ghost here, her steps are still taken a little gingerly as she makes her way over to the actual Anna's side, like she's worried about getting caught up in it all the same.
".. Anna?" Ange says. Her tone is neutral - the way she calls out to the other meant more to make Anna aware of her presence, something that might not have been immediately apparent in the middle of everything that's going on here.
After all, even if Ange - accidentally - entered a private memory, it's not like it's her intention to spy on it without the other person knowing. Especially since she likes Anna so far.
no subject
So when Anna turns her head and looks down at Ange, there's a gentle smile on her face. This memory is far from private; she's glad, actually, to have other people experiencing it with her. Miserable though it may have been for A2, for Anna it's an affirmation. It's confirmation. And she will not explain why, but anyone who's been paying attention, she's certain, already knows.
"Good to see you out and about again, Ange," she says. Her head turns to the battlefield again. It's going well for the lone android who shares Anna's body. "If you wanted to learn more about A2... here she is."
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And yet here Anna is. Gently smiling at Ange, even though Ange - accidentally, if you want to get technical about it - intruded on the other's memory.
It makes her pause for a moment before she replies to the other, but that also gives her time to fully walk up to Anna's side, only stopping once she's there. And only then casting her gaze back out at the other Anna - no, A2. The fighting android.
"Is that.. what you were? Before?"
It's not asked awkwardly because Ange thinks that's an awkward idea, mind you. She's more just hesitating because it's hard to find the line here. What is okay to ask Anna about? What isn't? Ange is curious enough to ask her just about anything right now, especially while staring at this - but at the same time she doesn't want to dig up stuff that's too painful for the other either.
So she will just gently tiptoe over this line until she can find out what's alright and what isn't under these circumstances. Anna has been kind enough that Ange wants to put in this much effort in return.
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"Not sure if that's right," she says carefully, no longer needing to watch A2's swath of destruction. She's not sure if a lot of this is right, really; other memories she's shared have been painful. Harrowing experiences that actually happened to her. That they're both here now means...
"This is about 10,000 years in the future, for one," she continues, stopping her thoughts before she can overthink them. "But it's more like she's part of who I am. We're close enough to each other that the huge, cosmic collection of universes," and she elegantly extends a gloved hand to the heavens, towards the moon that she's told the humans live on now, "Decided that we would share a soul together inside of my body."
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It's just.. the idea of two souls in one body. That's the part that feels a little newer, a little more odd. Especially since Ange has always just seen Anna as.. well, Anna. Where is A2 in all of that? What role does she play? Is she part of Anna's personality, or does Anna only have A2's memories, and nothing else?
.. would asking about any of that be weird?
Ange has no clue. It leaves her staring at A2 in the distance for a moment, and then back at Anna. Still thinking, still trying to get used to this odd, overwhelming memory.
"She's strong."
It's a bit of a simple observation, isn't it. But what else is Ange supposed to say, given everything that's going on here? It feels like the most obvious thing to note in the face of all of it.
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b
This, though—explosions and the scream of someone throwing themselves into combat—this is beyond what Flynn has seen. It catches at his breath, and he raises an arm against the shockwave even though it doesn't reach him, watches not-Anna fling herself into the fray with sword flashing, and swallows.
"What," he says quietly, turning to the Anna beside him, "what battle is this?"
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"The Pearl Harbor Descent. 12,000 AD, or around there." She isn't speaking clinically, but with the knowledge of someone who's spoken on military conflict before. "Twelve YoRHa units were sent down to Earth to destroy the enemy server. Anti-air forces took out two-thirds of the squadron before anyone could even touch down. A2 and her partner No.4 were the only ones who made it to the server. And eventually..."
She turns her eye to the fading cloud of the explosion. "No.4 found a way to destroy the server. And A2 was left behind."
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Flynn can't leave her alone, not knowing that these memories can be changed. Perhaps it doesn't change anything in the future. Certainly Yuri still remembers nearly dying, and Flynn stopped him from falling into the ocean just a day ago in a memory he had no idea existed. But that moment when you think you're alone and then reinforcements arrive, injecting a hope so painful you almost don't want to feel it—
If he can help, he must.
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A2's body is starting to shake on the battlefield. Anna knows how this memory plays out, knows that Flynn doesn't need to help. But when she sees that shuddering, red-tinged stagger that the woman who would share Anna's body is taking towards another wave of machines, and she sees Flynn's hand moving towards his sword, it's hard to say no. She draws her own katana with a smooth elegance that fits her dress and stature, and she smiles at Flynn.
"But it's close." The machines are regrouping, forming another assault. The small, stubby ones aren't playing as much of a part in this one. Instead, they're sending a platoon of machines that stand as tall as Anna with thorny shields and electrified axes. It's rough for A2 after this one, but it doesn't have to be. Anna assumes a ready stance, one foot behind the other. "Let's be knights."
And she's jumping into the fray to save herself.
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No matter how much she wants to.
Flynn grits his teeth, takes in those electrified axes, and calls to mind the thudding words of a spell. The ground under his feet lights up with complex magic as Flynn focuses, his hands on the hilt of his sword like a staff. He shouts only half the incantation— "Begone!" and then light lances through the air, slamming into one of the taller machines like a piercing star.
"Why," he grits out, charging into the slightly-stunned void a spell like that always leaves, "does she want to die?"
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uhhh nier automata spoilers i guess
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faLL OUT BOY; GOD; YOU ARE MY FAVORITE PERSON
recovering scene kid anna amarande is ALWAYS here
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c.
He sees Anna standing on the street corner, and something about her triggers his memory. It takes a moment, because they've never seen each other in person, but then he remembers the woman he talked to over the network, and her description of herself.
"Anna?" He approaches, very much of her posture and the threat radiating off her. "Anna, is that you?"
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"How do you know who I am?" she asks, voice gritty with smoke. Her teeth flash. "Don't you think you should be running from me?"
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"We spoke before, on the network." Erwin keeps his distance, but his voice is calm and placid. If he has to fight, he will, but he'd really rather not. "I'm Erwin Smith. We talked about Eren, who you knew on another world. You told me a little about your world as well."
As for her second question, he shrugs his shoulders. "I didn't think our last conversation went so badly that I should fear you. As I recall, you weren't against the idea of meeting in person."
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"Tell me. The boy who changed." She can only assume that's what happened with the person she never recognized as Falco. The way the creature looked was too similar to Eren to not be related. "Is that your fault?"
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"Ah." Erwin's shoulders slump. It has been one hell of a month, and he's not surprised there are repercussions from Falco's adventure. It makes sense too, that Anna would recognise a titan when she saw one. If she'd known Eren, she'd know what he could become.
"Had I known what he was going to try, I would have stopped him." Erwin hadn't known about Falco's plans until it was too late. "He didn't tell me what he was going to do, and then it got out of control faster than anyone could have thought." Erwin sighs and scrubs his hand over his face. "I wish he had told me. He needed someone with more experience around titans, but he didn't ask."
Is it Erwin's fault? No. Is he feeling responsible for it all the same? Yes.
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