momquest: a quest for moms

[farfromgrace]

[ It's another day in Tokyo-D, and the relentless cycle of content generation for the masses goes on; how long have you been filming this drama, exactly? And it's not that it's a bad show, per se, but the fact that it's really dedicated to showing the gritty realities of combat and using practical effects for it is... kind of a lot.

Also it can't decide if it wants to be a show about frenemies or about enemies-to-lovers-to-enemies. Cowards.

And besides, it's not home, is it?

It occurs to you on break at the really honestly lackluster buffet table set up for the actors and any surviving extras that... there's really not that much security on this show, all things considered, unless there's something you're not seeing... ]

Comments

Re: ALSO MEANWHILE IN AVANTE

[worthathousand]

[ She clutches that feeling to her with the full strength of her conviction.

...Though she also never cares to be helpless: once she's fallen some distance from Yu-Shan, she tries to call Nightingale's breeze and petals to her again. ]

Re: ALSO MEANWHILE IN AVANTE

[farfromgrace]

[ the wind won't come, it won't hold you; maybe because you're in some kind of not-space, or maybe—well, you were always the odd one out, among LiliS. sometimes that's been a strength, and sometimes it's left you very lonely.

but still, the warmth of the rope keeps the color in your hands, in your clothes, keeps your wits about you—in a way, it almost seems like the gold of that rope bleeds into your clothes, coloring them gold in places.

and below you, you begin to see a sort of brightness in the distance, a pinpoint of light growing larger. ]

Re: ALSO MEANWHILE IN AVANTE

[worthathousand]

[ there's a kind of anguish—strong enough, maybe, to travel down the rope—as she tries again and again to call the power to her.

(even though... it makes sense, doesn't it?)

but eventually the cold and grey of the fall become overwhelming, so: she focuses on that warm gold. ]

Re: ALSO MEANWHILE IN AVANTE

[farfromgrace]

[ the gold continues to bleed out of the rope, into the trim and accents on your clothes, but it's no more the duller for it—instead, it only shines brighter.

and the light below you grows larger and larger until you can see it's not just light but the sky—the sky of Tokyo-F, spread out below you, and then you're through the dark and the cold, outfitted in red and gold, hair trailing above you like a sort of halo as you fall. and you're falling fast, but—

—but below you, there's a gust of blue iris petals coming up to meet you. ]