Post-Event Reaction Log!
Who: Everyone. EVERYONE.
What: The event is over.
When: From 12:01 AM on the 28th to all day after
Where: All over da place!
Summary: With the event over, people will be waking up in whatever homes they moved into, perhaps next to someone they normally wouldn't.
Rating: I dunno it could get kind of steamy :o ( Read more... )
What: The event is over.
When: From 12:01 AM on the 28th to all day after
Where: All over da place!
Summary: With the event over, people will be waking up in whatever homes they moved into, perhaps next to someone they normally wouldn't.
Rating: I dunno it could get kind of steamy :o ( Read more... )
Then Alf remembers what he never should have forgotten, as well as what never should have existed (it was all fake? But it had felt so real -- ) and he lies there in shock as the memories sweep over him. This combined with all the negative feelings and thoughts leave him unmoving, and he visibly flinches when he's brought back to reality by Cheyenne's voice calling his name.
He stares off into space for a second or two. Everything starts to fall back into place. He faces Cheyenne, surprise painted on his face.]
I -- Cheyenne . . .
[Even now, he's still trying to regain his bearings. He almost doesn't know what to do with himself.]
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...none of it was real, was it.
[All this past week, whenever Alf was around there was a big smile on her face. Why? Why had she been so happy just being around him? Assuming it was happiness and not something else.]
[But what could it have been? She didn't know. All she knew is that whatever it was, she wasn't feeling it now, and she certainly wasn't going to smile now. She sits up on her knees, keeping a safe distance from Alf.]
Are you all right?
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None of it was real. Fake, huh? All those moments where they'd been together and truly happy. The feeling of mutual love.
It kind of hurts to think that that's gone.
Alf sits up and runs a hand over his hair to get the stray strands out of his face. He contemplates what words to use before deciding on being simple and truthful.]
. . . No, it seems none of it was. And I'm all right.
[Except the moment he says them, they sound wrong.]
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[And whatever it is she's feeling right now, it must be equally unpleasant. Her head is spinning and there's an ache in her chest she can't explain. She tries to focus her attention away from Alf, for even a moment, but she can't. He's too close. And it hurts.]
[She wants to embrace him again.]
[But she can't.]
[She knows this, and yet...]
...an experiment. That was all it was. I am not really that person.
[Person. When had she ever used that to describe herself? She was a monster. That was what she really was and that was what she would always be.]
[It never bothered her before. Did it bother her now?]
[. . .]
[The more confused she gets, the harder is becomes to express her emotions. Her voice sounds hollow and far more monotone than usual.]
I do not know what to do now.
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But he quickly regrets his words, and he actually leans forward -- just a bit, so as not to alert her. His voice is a little weak. Still, he pushes the words out of his mouth.]
No, Cheyenne. That was wrong of me to say. You are that person. It was another life, but it is you.
[That doesn't answer her last statement, though. What is she supposed to do? What is he supposed to do?
He wants to put his arms around her. To comfort her. Let her know that something is the same, despite all the sudden changes.
-- can he?]
You don't have to do anything, Cheyenne. . . . You should do what you want to do.
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How could a creature such as myself be the person I was before? [She angles her face down at her lap, even though it had little effect on what she was sensing around her.] ...what I want to do. I wonder what that is.
[She's silent for a moment before speaking up in a soft voice.] ...you may leave if that is what you wish to do.
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[Before he can try to possibly elaborate what that might be, his expression turns into a sad one at the last comment. Is leaving what he wished to do? Wouldn't that be the same as abandoning her in the middle of this conversation?
He shakes his head.]
N-no. I'll stay. Would . . . that make you feel better?
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[Her next words are said slowly, as if she were considering every word very carefully.]
I don't want to be alone right now. [She tilts her head up to face Alf.] I want you to stay.
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So he'll do as they both want.]
Then I'll stay. I'll stay for as long as you need.
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[Her expression is neutral for a moment until she remembers to smile. She wants Alf to stay and Alf is staying. That should make her happy. And somewhere under the cloud of emotions filling her mind right now, she is.]
[But they couldn't just sit here forever. She knew figured out what she wanted, but she still didn't know what she should do. She'll ponder this for a moment or two before deciding to start small and move on from there.]
If I may ask a somewhat strange question...
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...what am I wearing?
[Well, Cheyenne didn't usually bother with pajamas. She just slept in whatever she wore that day and changed in the morning. Naturally, that wouldn't fly in their AU marriage...]
[Alf, she's wearing your pajamas. Wat do.]
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Oh.
Well, this is uncomfortable. She's in his clothes.]
A-a little something of mine. . . . My nightwear.
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[Well, technically she doesn't, but that's besides the point. She runs her hand over the front of the shirt, noting just how big it was on her. She was pretty tiny, after all, and night clothes weren't usually known for their tight-fit.]
[She falls silent for a moment, considering something. If she was wearing his nightwear, then...]
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[Because she was a little too busy remembering 200 years of her life to pay much attention when they were cuddling, okay.]
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One look at his sleeves and he knows. Oh, thank goodness.]
J-just another pair -- of my sleeping wear, I mean. Nothing unusual . . . thankfully.
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[She glances at the window. She only knows where it is because she knows this is her room. The ticking clock sitting on her dresser is the only moving non-living thing in her room, and while rather silent, she can sense the small hands of the clock's face as the seconds tick by. She can't see anything out the window, but given she can't feel the warmth of the sun on her face... it's either cloudy or very early.]
[There wasn't much chance of her falling back asleep regardless, but it warranted checking.]
...perhaps it would be best to change. Unless you would prefer to stay in bed?
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