暁美 ほむら (
iflipmyhair) wrote in
thearena2014-06-17 08:52 pm
Entry tags:
(no subject)
Who| Homura, "Madoka", OPEN
What| Protecting her princess
Where| In and around the Orchard area
When| Just before Hellrena 2
Warnings/Notes| Homura and angst. Possible violence if she's attacked and especially if Madoka is attacked.
She was given back to Homura. Changed, completely mute, eyes wide, almost zombie-like. It almost seemed unreal. Madoka, unreal. Not the real Madoka. The real Madoka would have cried, even just a tear, but this one didn't.
Hell, Homura wouldn't have been surprised if that was all Madoka had been this whole time in this world. A zombie, a doll, simply given the thoughts and feelings of that beautiful girl she knew and vowed to protect by the Capitol, from Homura's own memory. And then she was destroyed, no doubt with utter glee, again by the Capitol. All to unnerve Homura. All because they could. They could play God with others, after all. Would her memories given life be any different?
How else could it be? Why else would the Capitol have acted the way they did? Giving no warning beforehand, and then forcing the erasure of every visage afterwards? Of course. Now it made sense to Homura. After all, the alternative - that this Madoka and the Madoka she'd been given in the Capitol was and were the real Madoka--no. She refused to believe that. That would be unbearable. But even if it was a fake Madoka, even if she was now reduced to little more than a zombie. It had still spoken to her like Madoka. It had been Madoka.
Akemi Homura still had an obligation to protect Madoka. And so she would. The longer she stayed here, the more certain Homura felt about her feelings. Yes. Protect her from everyone and everything. No matter what.
Madoka limply piggy-backed on Homura as she traversed through the town, never stopping in one place for more than a night. Never truly staying still. Homura barely managed to get through the hell that was the fires of several weeks ago, even with her transformation. And she was getting hungry, so hungry. Even if Madoka refused food, she had to look for food for the girl as well. So Homura found herself stopping at the orchard more often than she'd liked. But she had to. Not just for her.
Whenever they were stopped, Homura would keep Madoka close to her, stroking her hair, rubbing her back. Giving her hugs when she felt the girl shift into a huddle.
And each time, she would say the same thing, even if Homura wasn't sure she believed it.
"Everything's going to be all right. Madoka." Homura stared at the blank girl, rueful, her eyes barely holding back the raging glare she wished to give towards the parties responsible. "I promise."
What| Protecting her princess
Where| In and around the Orchard area
When| Just before Hellrena 2
Warnings/Notes| Homura and angst. Possible violence if she's attacked and especially if Madoka is attacked.
She was given back to Homura. Changed, completely mute, eyes wide, almost zombie-like. It almost seemed unreal. Madoka, unreal. Not the real Madoka. The real Madoka would have cried, even just a tear, but this one didn't.
Hell, Homura wouldn't have been surprised if that was all Madoka had been this whole time in this world. A zombie, a doll, simply given the thoughts and feelings of that beautiful girl she knew and vowed to protect by the Capitol, from Homura's own memory. And then she was destroyed, no doubt with utter glee, again by the Capitol. All to unnerve Homura. All because they could. They could play God with others, after all. Would her memories given life be any different?
How else could it be? Why else would the Capitol have acted the way they did? Giving no warning beforehand, and then forcing the erasure of every visage afterwards? Of course. Now it made sense to Homura. After all, the alternative - that this Madoka and the Madoka she'd been given in the Capitol was and were the real Madoka--no. She refused to believe that. That would be unbearable. But even if it was a fake Madoka, even if she was now reduced to little more than a zombie. It had still spoken to her like Madoka. It had been Madoka.
Akemi Homura still had an obligation to protect Madoka. And so she would. The longer she stayed here, the more certain Homura felt about her feelings. Yes. Protect her from everyone and everything. No matter what.
Madoka limply piggy-backed on Homura as she traversed through the town, never stopping in one place for more than a night. Never truly staying still. Homura barely managed to get through the hell that was the fires of several weeks ago, even with her transformation. And she was getting hungry, so hungry. Even if Madoka refused food, she had to look for food for the girl as well. So Homura found herself stopping at the orchard more often than she'd liked. But she had to. Not just for her.
Whenever they were stopped, Homura would keep Madoka close to her, stroking her hair, rubbing her back. Giving her hugs when she felt the girl shift into a huddle.
And each time, she would say the same thing, even if Homura wasn't sure she believed it.
"Everything's going to be all right. Madoka." Homura stared at the blank girl, rueful, her eyes barely holding back the raging glare she wished to give towards the parties responsible. "I promise."

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"Go away!" She shouted for what felt like the twentieth time. "You're not really her! I heard the canon go off!"
A limp, emotionless Pruna was standing at the base of a tree gazing blankly at Sandy who had scaled it's branches to protect herself.
With a sigh Sandy leaned back in her perch and it was here she spotted Homura.
"Hey!" She waved sounding beleaguered and tired.
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Homura's head looked up towards the source of the voice. Though her voice was still level and cold, for the most part, there was strain in it.
"Someone..." Looking down, she spotted the shambling silhouette. "Came back for you, too?"
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"I watched Pruna get eaten by spiders. There wasn't enough of her left for a body. This has gotta be a trick or a trap or a new kind of zombie." She'd had more then enough run ins with zombies to know they were a threat.
"How's your behaving ?"
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It was the long and sort of it. The fact that Homura was holding the pink-haired girl quite close to her spoke volumes of how she felt about it, whether or not she intended to. Though, at this point, she didn't really care.
"She won't eat, or speak. She won't even cry." Homura's voice was flat at this. "Its likely a trick. But even so, its not their fault."
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"And you're not worried at all?" She asked confused as she took her Axe and gently nudged Pruna's forehead to indicated how very unsettling it was to see Pruna so...empty.
"What if the Capitol is just waiting for the right moment and then when they're ready she tries to rip your throat out?"
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Well? Well. It was ripping Homura apart on the inside. But that couldn't be helped.
"I'll deal with what happens, when it happens. What do you plan to do?"
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"I dunno man!" She complained. "I came into this arena all confident and crap! I worked my butt off learning how to fight and survive and all that and I haven't been able to do anything. I get caught in traps that I should be able to find on my own. My best friend who is WAY stronger then me dies in a stupid accident. And now this? I mean come on what am I supposed to do? I can't kill her she looks like Pruna!" She protested exasperated.
"Even after learning how to throw a punch, or make a bomb, or stitch a wound I still feel like this is all playing out the same way again and again."
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"And what...would you do differently, then? What would you do to break the cycle?"
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"I guess...unite all the tributes." She started and cast a wary eye to the sky "I mean I know they're listening right now so it would never work. Hell they might kill me for just saying it." She grumbled before looking back to Homura. "But we're all in this stupid murder game together. And most of us are only playing the game to protect people we care about, or because they force us to. I think only a few tributes actually enjoy killing."
And she tried to lie to herself that the ones she cared about weren't like that.
"If I won...I don't know what I'd do. I guess go to the parties and beg people for money so my friends can be protected. But that's just playing the game more. Doing what they want, dressing up and prancing around like it's all fun and fair. I don't know if there's anything I can do but keep my head down and wait for a real hero who's probably never going to come. Even with some of the strongest people I've ever met around here nothing changes. Sometimes I die first, sometimes she does. Sometimes I'm murdered sometimes it's an accident. But I always wake up back in my room as if it never happened and everyone pats me on the head and tells me I did my best and should just keep quiet till it's over."
And that part was more infuriating then anything.
"There has to be some other way doesn't there?"
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Shall we wrap?
Sounds good to me!
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"Come on, kid. WAKE UP. Gotta snap the motherfuck out of it, brother..." It's getting harder and harder, making sure Gamzee makes it all the fuck through this. Mostly because Gamzee won't eat, he won't rest proper he won't do anything. He walks like he's voodoo stunned pandead. He knocks foreheads against the boy's, not too hard but not exactly soft either. Nothing.
"FINE. Motherfucking fine then," He hisses, frustrated, and maybe a little off-note. In his hands he starts tearing up the fruits and turning them slowly into mush. Something what ain't need chewing. But he stops suddenly, ears flicking back. He turns, looking for sign of beast or tribute.
He finds one of the two, and just a little bit more. He moves one hand to reach for a weapon. Then stops. His eyes go to Gamzee, then to her, then back again. Slowly, he draws his hand back, leaving the weapon in his pack.
In the other hand he still has the mushed up fruit. He tries, with only partial success, to get some of it to the boy's mouth. The rest just spills over. Then he tucks the uncrushed fruit into the bag, rises, and leans down to scoop his descendant up, who drapes off him limply.
Homura's probably noticed him, by the time he starts on over. She looks even more tired than he's starting to feel.
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"He won't listen. None of them will. They're all catatonic, as the Capitol designed it."
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"I WILL FIND A MOTHERFUCKING WAY. I ain't care. IF THEY CAN DO WHAT THEY'VE DONE IT CAN BE UNDONE. If they can do what they've done he will make it right. ONE DAMN WAY OR OTHER." He looks at her, closely. "You understand don't you?"
She had to. She, like him, hadn't left hers to be a corpse, like was at greatest chance intended. He hitches Gamzee higher for where he may have slipped.
"HE'S BLOOD OF BLOOD. Bone of my motherfucking bone. SIGN SHARED DESCENDED. What daymares were his... WERE LIKE ALL TO BE MINE. I have to."
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"I guess I do. Ah, I'd be relieved if Madoka only smiled and said something of how she was feeling. Even for a moment. Even a single word." Madoka's head flopped a little onto Homura's chest. "However, we all must be prepared for if it never happens, as well. The Capitol didn't give these creatures to us without reason, after all."
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"THEN SO HE SHALL MAKE FOR DEALING OF SUCH IN TIMES DUE. Then so be it."
His teeth grit when she talks of it, of wanting just a smile. It ain't like Gamzee not to, it probably ain't like Madoka.
Another part of him reminds they ain't both going to have theirs.
"HAS YOURS EATEN UP AT ALL?"
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"She's not eaten at all. She won't open her mouth or hear my words."
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It's not hard to remember what he's doing this, everything, all for.
"Tick, tock, hands on the clock. TWELVE AND TWELVE, ROUND AND ROUND. In the thirteenth hour, the demoness will rise. AND HANDS BE UNMOTHERFUCKINGBOUND."
Old parable. Still correct. He doesn't know if she will catch his meaning, truly, it would better if she doesn't, if she can be told some other time and really get her understand on to it.
But for now, that's all he can do. And it is a reassurance in itself what he's doing.
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"You have a greater likelihood of stopping time itself, here, than to get to that thirteenth hour, at this moment."
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[1/2]
[2/2] and chicken's done
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But this resolve was quickly shattered when he came upon Homura.
Still at a distance, Sigma laid flat on his stomach and watched, vision magnified through his cybernetic eye. Homura carried a girl with her, one whom Sigma had never seen before. He had decided this child must be a new Tribute until Homura turned to speak to the girl - and she could not even hold her gaze. Sigma choked back a scream of rage, burying his face in the weeds. It was Madoka Kaname. He could tell without even knowing a hint of what the girl had looked like, from the way Homura stroked her. She was certainly the visitor that the Capitol had given to Homura... and after she had been taken away, they had evidently decided to find another use for her.
He had to catch his breath to stop himself from panicking. It meant, more than likely, that Diana was here, and Sigma had to find her before someone else did. But as determined as he was to wear his new persona, Sigma could not bear to turn himself away from one of his most trusted allies...
Sigma pushed himself to his feet and held his arms up.
"Homura!" He called as loud as he dared- enough to alert the girl to his presence without attracting company.
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Very, very slowly, very carefully, Homura lifted Madoka so she was rested and sitting up, though her eyes simply stared up at the sky once this was done, lifeless and silent. Then, Homura stood up, looking around.
"...Doctor Klim." She whispered as loudly as she could, her voice carrying and echoing softly. "You're near, aren't you?"
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He keeps silent until he's arrived at her side, and beholds the two women with pity and tranquil fury. How the Capitol would pay for this mistake. Sigma nearly asks Homura if it's 'her' before remembering that that conversation took place in an entirely different timeline - he swallows, and turns to the shell of Madoka with a respectful nod.
"...Is she your friend?" The word is loaded, understanding that 'friend' isn't a strong enough word for most relationships in life. His voice is small and kind in the way he dares to show to Homura alone.
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She gave a small nod. It was her. But at the same time, it wasn't and she knew it.
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Now Sigma dares to approach Madoka only a few steps, and looks at her piteously. "My dear, I wish we could have met under different circumstances..."
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"She doesn't speak."
Homura's voice is flat. Having Sigma see Madoka was difficult. She wanted to just burst into tears; she wished Sigma could see just the kind of girl Madoka really was. Not this false shell of a zombie doll.
"She doesn't eat. She does nothing. Your words don't reach her, nor do mine. She barely even moves on her own, and when she does, she shambles."
Her voice lowers, almost dangerously, her face darkening with it.
"She's not really alive. She's...simply here. Nothing more."
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"My God," he answers, voice low. "It must be terribly difficult. Is there something I can help you with, Homura?" Anything he could do to ease her suffering.
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"...If you could stay, for awhile. That's all I'd ask."
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