A Secluded Area of the Beach, Thursday Near Dawn
Rosalind regained consciousness and wished she'd died instead.
It was the sound of waves that got Rosalind to open her eyes.
Every bone in her body felt broken, even her hair seemed to hurt, and opening her eyes seemed like an insurmountable task.
But waves pounded against the shore and the ground felt damp. She took comfort in the fact that it was still rough, rubble digging into her painfully. But the waves wouldn't stop and she was too much of a Turk to not try and see what was going on.
Once her eyes were open, she breathed and stared up uncomprehendingly at a sky that wasn't Midgar's sky. There were stars. The first trickle of alarm-where was she-roused her enough to grasp a hi-potion, force herself up on one elbow (though that nearly knocked her out again), and get the potion down.
Another one had her feeling like very nearly her usual self. If a rather tired and bewildered self. Rosalind sat, back straight, drinking a third hi-potion slowly and stared out at the water.
Rosalind struggled to her feet while feeling numb. Her uniform was torn, she was filthy, and now that she was paying attention, she knew where she was without even having to turn around.
Fandom Island.
Except that she wasn't supposed to be here.
She was supposed to be dead.
The moment Fuhito had offered to trade Elena for the materia Rosalind had-she'd known it was the day that she was supposed to have died.
Elena had told her years ago. Reno had confirmed it.
She'd saved Elena and then never come back. They hadn't mentioned everything else. Not the fact that the Turks had been declared traitors, not that President Shinra had given the order to both disband the Turks and to assassinate them. Not that, in order to save Elfe that they'd have to summon an incomplete Zirconiade. Not that AVALANCHE would get in the way and make a mess of things…
She was supposed to be dead.
A choked laugh bubbled in the back of her throat as she fumbled for her PHS and hit the speed dial for Tseng's number and waited.
It was a bland, cheerfully mechanical voice that answered her:
We are sorry for the inconvenience, but telephone service to the dimension you are trying to reach is temporarily unavailable. Please try again at a later time.
She hung up and tried Reno.
We are sorry for the inconvenience, but telephone service to the dimension you are trying to reach is temporarily unavailable. Please try again at a later time.
Rosalind grit her teeth and tried Elena, only to get the same bland voice with the same tinned message.
We are sorry for the inconvenience, but telephone service to the dimension you are trying to reach is temporarily unavailable. Please try again at a later time.
Rafe. Rude. Samantha. Adrian. Rod. Durman. Cissnei.
Tseng, again.
Rosalind stood there, listening to her PHS repeat the same message for every number she tried, over and over, until her battery beeped that it was getting dangerously low.
Then she tried Portalocity's number, which was still buried back in the depths of her contacts, unused and unconsidered for years.
They were very sorry but there were no portals going to that universe at this time. No, they didn't know when it would come back online. She would just have to be patient and wait.
Rosalind thanked them, hung up, and burst into laughter. Nothing was funny and she'd never have laughed like this, so hard that she nearly cried, but it had been a long, terrible few days, she had no idea how many of her coworkers were dead, if Elena was still okay, if Zirconiade had been defeated-
--and she was supposed to be dead.
(Was she supposed to be grateful, Rosalind wondered, that the island had saved her?)
As the sun touched the horizon, Rosalind forced herself to regain her calm and then turned and faced the path back to town, the castle rising over it, familiar and unwanted.
Then, knowing she needed information, food, sleep, and time to think, Rosalind began to make her way into town, already trying to decide what to do with the future that… she'd never counted on.
[NFB! And she's back on the island! Also, warning: NPC character death.]
It was the sound of waves that got Rosalind to open her eyes.
Every bone in her body felt broken, even her hair seemed to hurt, and opening her eyes seemed like an insurmountable task.
But waves pounded against the shore and the ground felt damp. She took comfort in the fact that it was still rough, rubble digging into her painfully. But the waves wouldn't stop and she was too much of a Turk to not try and see what was going on.
Once her eyes were open, she breathed and stared up uncomprehendingly at a sky that wasn't Midgar's sky. There were stars. The first trickle of alarm-where was she-roused her enough to grasp a hi-potion, force herself up on one elbow (though that nearly knocked her out again), and get the potion down.
Another one had her feeling like very nearly her usual self. If a rather tired and bewildered self. Rosalind sat, back straight, drinking a third hi-potion slowly and stared out at the water.
Rosalind struggled to her feet while feeling numb. Her uniform was torn, she was filthy, and now that she was paying attention, she knew where she was without even having to turn around.
Fandom Island.
Except that she wasn't supposed to be here.
She was supposed to be dead.
The moment Fuhito had offered to trade Elena for the materia Rosalind had-she'd known it was the day that she was supposed to have died.
Elena had told her years ago. Reno had confirmed it.
She'd saved Elena and then never come back. They hadn't mentioned everything else. Not the fact that the Turks had been declared traitors, not that President Shinra had given the order to both disband the Turks and to assassinate them. Not that, in order to save Elfe that they'd have to summon an incomplete Zirconiade. Not that AVALANCHE would get in the way and make a mess of things…
She was supposed to be dead.
A choked laugh bubbled in the back of her throat as she fumbled for her PHS and hit the speed dial for Tseng's number and waited.
It was a bland, cheerfully mechanical voice that answered her:
We are sorry for the inconvenience, but telephone service to the dimension you are trying to reach is temporarily unavailable. Please try again at a later time.
She hung up and tried Reno.
We are sorry for the inconvenience, but telephone service to the dimension you are trying to reach is temporarily unavailable. Please try again at a later time.
Rosalind grit her teeth and tried Elena, only to get the same bland voice with the same tinned message.
We are sorry for the inconvenience, but telephone service to the dimension you are trying to reach is temporarily unavailable. Please try again at a later time.
Rafe. Rude. Samantha. Adrian. Rod. Durman. Cissnei.
Tseng, again.
Rosalind stood there, listening to her PHS repeat the same message for every number she tried, over and over, until her battery beeped that it was getting dangerously low.
Then she tried Portalocity's number, which was still buried back in the depths of her contacts, unused and unconsidered for years.
They were very sorry but there were no portals going to that universe at this time. No, they didn't know when it would come back online. She would just have to be patient and wait.
Rosalind thanked them, hung up, and burst into laughter. Nothing was funny and she'd never have laughed like this, so hard that she nearly cried, but it had been a long, terrible few days, she had no idea how many of her coworkers were dead, if Elena was still okay, if Zirconiade had been defeated-
--and she was supposed to be dead.
(Was she supposed to be grateful, Rosalind wondered, that the island had saved her?)
As the sun touched the horizon, Rosalind forced herself to regain her calm and then turned and faced the path back to town, the castle rising over it, familiar and unwanted.
Then, knowing she needed information, food, sleep, and time to think, Rosalind began to make her way into town, already trying to decide what to do with the future that… she'd never counted on.
[NFB! And she's back on the island! Also, warning: NPC character death.]