One Minute Back :: [Nocturne + Leon]
Sept 27, 2014 2:02:16 GMT -5
Post by L△LIA on Sept 27, 2014 2:02:16 GMT -5
Limbo is a lot like being back in the Capitol, pushing buttons on a random remote he found and losing his mind as the view out the window turns into what he thinks might just be the ocean he's never seen or the desert he's also never seen or the jungle he's also never seen or —
Time doesn't really exist here the same way Nocturne remembers it. There is a sense of logic in his
Whoever is in charge around here still doesn't seem to have figured out if he is who he is or if he's actually someone he's not supposed to be and so some of the other lingering souls have simply taken to calling him HNaowcthuorne as a ridiculous mouthful of a joke, because it's easier than trying to sort out which of his two names to use. In the mean time, he's been left to wander aimlessly through oblivion while the Powers That Be debate with the Reaping Committee about whether or not the right kid got the axe. "The sword," he whines with over-dramatic exasperation, "y'gave me the sword. At least keep your weapons straight if y'gotta rub it in."
Becoming something of a zen master with this new-found infinite free time, he has discovered that he no longer needs a remote to control his surroundings, but that the buttons of change are within. With a push of his mind he can not only change the window, but the world. He spent weeks visiting the family he's still trying to remember properly — memories returned but jumbled into incoherence — and old friends he'd left behind. It's nice, but a little like peering into muddy water and maybe that's why he thinks of the ocean.
Or maybe the water has nothing to do with it and the clarity has another home.
Since he's still new at this, he splices himself, appearing with half of his body in the correct room and half stuck in the wall and off on the other side. (A quick peek reveals that his left foot is actually standing on thin air, floating outside of the house from what might be the second story. It's awesome. Unable to resist, he can't help dancing a couple verses of The Hokey Pokey — "You put your left foot in, you put your left foot out, you put your left foot in and you shake it all about!" — before catching a glimpse of the reason he came here in the first place.) Leon Krigel is sleeping and Nocturne sighs to himself with more of the over-dramatic exasperation that brought him here, wondering how long he'll have to wait for him to wake up.
He's bored now. Nobody in Limbo wants to play with him. He came all this way and he's still being ignored. Aslaksjdfhasdkjfha!
Plopping down on the bed, he childishly blows air at the other boy's face, marveling as he swears he catches a twitching of his hair. He claps, but the sound doesn't echo like he remembers it used to. He curls up on an unclaimed pillow, but it doesn't feel his weight the same way it does Leon's. For a few philosophical moments, he wonders exactly how much a soul weighs and if Potato's sword cut him in half in more ways than one. (After all, he can feel the way the sheets crinkle subtly beneath him, see the way his exhalation pushes oh-so-gently at the air, and hear the way his voice has become more distant.) "Leooooooon," this is an intentional whisper, hushed but persistent, because if he has to be a ghost, he might as well play it up a little, "Come on, Leon, wakey wakey."
Nocturne Vargas has come to see the ocean... or at least that's as good of an excuse to haunt someone as any. Mostly, with all this time on his hands, he's suddenly not sure what to do with it all. While he remembers a lot of faces now, most of them are accompanied by a complicated tangle of confusion, but this one, well, he knows that he once decided that this face wouldn't be such a bad way to spend his last days. It's not such a bad view now either.
