Anna Amarande (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
hauntedsavior) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
deercountry2021-12-07 02:00 pm
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![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
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
no subject
"That sounds pretty bad," she offers, the words still not coming out right when it comes to family. "Well. Maybe him and A2 will both show up here and we can come clean about who we are to them. That'd be... nice, right?"
It's a guess. She's pretty sure it would be nice for both of them, but... well, it's all hypothetical right now, isn't it? "I think I'd just... I don't know. I would just hope that I did right by her. And probably apologize that she ended up here. Anything else I could say to her, I don't think she'd understand."
no subject
Is Ange remaining suspiciously quiet on the matter of her brother? Yes, yes, she is. But there's so many layers of messy stuff wrapped up in her current relationship with her brother that she doesn't really want to think about this. It feels easier like this, with her being the only person from her world in Trench. Ange certainly doesn't believe that any memory of home could show up anymore, if it hasn't in the year and a half she was back in Deerington.
So it's much easier to instead focus on other people's problems. Like Anna's own.
"You're better at that sort of thing than you think you are, you know." After all, she befriended Ange. It's the unsaid implication here, but it's a pretty obvious one.
no subject
"Maybe it just took me a bit to remember how to do it," she says, putting her thoughts into the world just a little bit more. "But, you know. Stuff like this takes work, takes time. Takes good people to help bring me back around to the way it used to be." Another line that's not too difficult to draw, an obvious implication that she trusts Ange to understand.
"I figure I could probably fake my way through meeting someone I already know a lot about. Like, what's the actual worst that could happen, you know?"
no subject
Then, when she does speak up, her voice is very much at its usual deadpan. It's not quite sarcastic, though - not in any malicious way. Instead the deadpan sounds extremely casual.
"I don't know, they might think you are some sort of assassin sent to come murder them and get the draw on you first."
Because of course that's what would happen. That elaborate scenario is obviously the most likely thing to happen, right?
Remarking that is the easiest way to lighten the mood as much as possible. (With murder! Obviously!)
no subject
(And of course, it's because their personalities are so similar and they're both good at telling jokes. Right? Couldn't be for any other reason, obviously.)
"Shit, you're right. While I study diplomacy, she's studying the blade. I guess I have to study the blade, too. That way we can be classmates at blade school." And maybe she just embellishes a little more. "She can't kill me then. She'll get a terrible grade on her group project, and Professor Blademan definitely won't be happy."
no subject
No, instead this pause is because everything the other is saying is just landing with Ange, and it draws out a slow, yet instinctual reaction from the girl.
She starts laughing.
Sure, it's nothing over the top, but when Ange looks like a robot (without even having some of the parts the way Anna does) half of the time, it's a rarity.
"Professor Blademan.. You're too much!" P-Please, Anna, how dare you make her show emotion like this! "How do you even think of this stuff?"
no subject
"Knew I could find a way to make you laugh," she says like it's a triumph. She doesn't really want to explain the concept of shitposting, or the fact that took at least the premise of that joke from a post she saw online one time. Instead, she'll just be content with this.
"I don't know, dude. Sometimes the words just come to me." That seems honest enough for now. "It's important to know when to just say something totally ridiculous, you know? To break the tension after a whole long conversation about... finding someone I worried I'd never see again." A sigh, but a happy one, almost. "God. Welcome to a very, very small circle of people who know about this stuff, Ange. Glad you're here."
no subject
And she means that. It's not just lip service. After all, what sort of reason would Ange even have to talk about this with anyone? And even if she had a reason to, she still wouldn't just talk about Anna's personal business with anyone. Especially when it hits on something so relatively vulnerable.
They understand each other well, after all, and Ange knows how important it can be to keep the most vulnerable bits of you hidden deep within.
Ange glances off into the distance.
"And it's nice to just.. see a good memory for once." Or at least a memory that makes Anna happy upon seeing it, anyway. Even if it might not be the best point in time for A2 necessarily. "I was getting kind of tired at this point of just looping through my own worst memories just to get some sleep."
no subject
A slow pause. She doesn't remember if A2 knows how to cry here. She can't recall ever invading her privacy like that. Anna certainly knows, but that's, paradoxically, not the way she feels in this moment.
"Maybe if you were here a little earlier or a little later, you'd have seen when I lost my eye. If you thought things were confusing now, imagine me being stuck inside a lab with souls flowing in and out of my body like water."
no subject
But this doesn't really feel like a good moment for it, especially when the other has made progress already. So Ange swallows the words right back up before they can leave her mouth, instead just shaking her head.
"This memory made you feel better though."
Even if it's in a sea of shitty things. Shitty things happening to A2, or other shitty memories on Anna's part.
"That's good enough for me."
no subject
Of course, for any of that to stick will be a much larger endeavor. But that'll also be something that, she thinks, will get much easier to work on now.
Out of the corner of her eye, she sees the form of a stag that certainly doesn't belong here in the memory coalesce out of the mist. Her head turns more so she can get a clearer look, and she speaks up.
"Looks like that's our ride," she says. "Ready to head back to Trench?"
no subject
From experience, Ange knows that they probably won't reappear anywhere near each other in Trench, especially since they hadn't been near each other when they went into the memory. Which means that this is her last chance to say something.
Sure, she could say it once they're back too. Call Anna, send a text.. but it feels important to say it here and now. While they're still in this awful memory that's yet still a positive reminder for Anna.
"Yeah." Ange actually smiles a little at the other. ".. Sleep well tonight, Anna."
After all, if she has found these Winter Mournings good for anything, it's exactly that. Just solid sleep.
"I'm glad to have shared this."