☆ Eighteenth Wish ☆ - [Action | Voice]

[bubblywishes]

[Waking was like bursting through a veil of frigid water. Gasping and jerking into a sitting position, Norma casts her bleary gaze left and right quickly, half expecting to see herself surrounded by ash, blood and cultist soldiers. Her chest burns with her quick movements (as well as other parts of her aching body) and her fist clutches the middle of it, digging her fingers painfully into the fabric of her clothes.

With each breath, Norma tries to get a grip on what happened and where she is. The air isn't thick with smoke and ash and the smell of decay like she remembered being in. Truth be told, the air now was fresh, crisp, fragrant... Pushing her hair from her face and just forcing herself into a calm state, she finally manages to make sense of where she was.

It was the Memory Garden. Snorting at the irony, Norma tries to get up, wincing at the cracks and pops of her stiff muscles and sore bones. She really does feel like she just came back from the dead... And as she thinks back on the memories right before it happened, her fingers brush insistently into her clothes, searching for any sort of bullet holes or marks that would give away what really happened. The others may or may not know...and she isn't sure she even wantsto tell them. Norma knows she has to, eventually, but she can't bring herself to even think of going home right now. So, as she gropes around, she finds her journal and shoves it under one arm without even thinking. Her mind's working automatically right now.

So, instead, she drags herself to the bar (it was the closest establishment, and the first she could think of), enters through the back, and just...collapses in a heap in one corner, head in her hands and tears welling up in her eyes. She can taste something sour in her mouth and idly wonders if she's going to throw up - wouldn't that be fun to explain to whoever finds her here - but thankfully the contents in her stomach remain there. But her ears are ringing and her head is a mess of thoughts and memories and fears. She died. It finally happened and she really died in Luceti. She got shot and died and now here she is again. Who knew? Would she have to come clean to her housemates? To Grune? To Sophie?

...No, Sophie shouldn't know. She has to bite her tongue and hope to high heaven nothing was told to the poor kid.

It's a good hour or more that Norma stays crouched in a corner in the back of the bar, shaking and letting the tears dribble down her face before she gets a grip on herself and decides she has to come clean sooner or later. Her intent was to write a written message, but as she presses her pen to the paper and tries to write, all Norma can see are weird shapes and sqiggly lines before it blurs together into one big mess. She thinks nothing of it - just post draft nerves and her own mental instability - and instead takes a massive gulp of air and puts on her well-practiced mask of cheerfulness and indifference.]

Everyone, I'm back! Tell me some good news, too. I could use a serious pick-me-up.

Comments

[savedtheworld]

[Aang had spotted Norma once or twice out on the battlefield. He had wanted to make a point of checking up on her later, but he was never able to find her. His heart had sank when he couldn't find her upon returning to Luceti, and it was all too easy to fear the worst.

And now he hears her voice again, over the journals. It feels so good to see and hear from her again! Looking so alive. But there's a bittersweetness mixed with that, too. An uncertainty, as he can't help but guess what she's returning from. He manages to put on a warm smile when he turns on the feed, delicately addressing her.]

There's some really pretty sunflowers growing near the house! Wanna see?

[Voice]

[lostinmyway]

[It's been quiet without Norma in House 34. Grune has been keeping busy--with so many of her friends damaged or recently returned from the dead, it isn't difficult--but...every evening, when she comes home, the silence is there.

It just doesn't feel like a home without her. She knows Norma will be coming back soon and she just has to wait, but--she doesn't want to wait. She wants her dearest friend back at her side.

It's when she's in the middle of drawing yet another picture of herself and Norma together on a picnic, her journal lying open so she can listen to this sounds of the village, that she at last hears what she's been waiting for.]

Norma! Where are you?

[voice]

[frost_jewel]

[Mia's idle habit of listening for things over the journal pays off today. At first, she isn't sure she heard correctly. It could be someone else's voice. She doesn't want it to be someone else's voice.]

Norma? [So she grabs her book in order to respond as fast as she can.] Norma, is that you? Where are you?

[Filtered very badly to Norma]

[blessingone]

[Fenimore sits without replying for quite a while. She probably shouldn't lead in with telling Norma about the damage control around Sophie. She probably should give some pleasantries first and then mention it. But how do you lead into something like "we're lying to the kid about your death here's the story"? So she throws up a quick filter -- which is absolutely terrible because Fenimore couldn't make a good filter if she was given an hour, but even if Sophie read this (she won't if Fenimore has anything to say about it and she does watch Sophie's journal useage), she doesn't expect her to know how to do any form of hacking. She doesn't really care if someone else hacks it.

...So how to say this. She waffles a while before settling on kind of blunt.]

If Sophie asks, you went on a mission. I told her that you had to translate messages between bad guys that they'd found.

["Bad guys" being the Third Party and "they" being the Malnosso. The latter are unnamed because Fenimore is almost superstitious about catching their attention by saying their name, while the former are unnamed both because that's how she termed it to Sophie and because she doubts Norma wants to hear the name "Third Party" for months after that draft.]

[action]

[dissonates]

[When Asch heard the sound in the back room, he'd assumed someone was trying to break in and steal some of the stock- which was stupid but not unheard of, despite the fact that the alcohol was free. Still, he ran the bar, and he dislikes thievery (it interfered with his inventory, dammit), and the invasion would have him on edge all night if he didn't go to investigate. Thus, armed with a frying pan (because it's probably some drunk idiot so a sword would be overkill and Rapunzel's right, the damn things are versatile) he steps into the room.

And finds Norma there, crying.

.....Awkward.]

[ Filtered ]

[generalflirt]

[ What do you even do with that. He'd sort of hope-assumed that some day he would come into the bar see that she was there, and somehow that situation would not be hard. But it is hard, right now. He's never experienced this sort of situation before, and so he sort of toys with how he'll answer as he makes the Filter. And finally... ]

I survived.

[ Was that seeming like it would be an "I am superior" thing? He hopes that. He just means to suggest it wasn't worthless ]

[blackteriques]

[He doesn't approach her even though he sees her dragging herself towards the bar. After all, why would he? They weren't friends -- far from it. When he had heard from Fenimore than Norma had died during the draft, he had snorted sourly but otherwise kept his silence. They were supposed to keep that fact a secret from Sophie.

Just another thing to keep from the little girl. He had darkly wondered just how many deaths they would end up keeping from Sophie, and how soon she would learn about that additional layer of twistedness to what was already the complicated situation of her life.

Whenever Norma returns to the house, Walter will be around, watching her intensely for any physical signs of a death penalty.]

[Voice]

[knightofratatosk]

Good news?

[This actually gives him pause for a moment. What good news HAS there been lately with the draft...?]

Um... the weather's been nice lately? It was a little hot for a couple of days, but other than that, it's been pretty pleasant out.

[... that sounded pathetic and he knows it.]