Forever feels like home

Ahhh I know we're not technically supposed to do this, but I thought that since the big plot was coming up and I've plotted out with all my characters, I should at least let the other muns know what's up >_<.

I have a friend from high school flying up for the next week and a half! This is awesome for me, not so awesome for rp. I most definitely won't be around much, and unfortunately, the big plot is right in the middle of her visit. SO I'm calling a very slowatus. What little time I have to focus on rp will only be on plot-related threads, so I'm trying to wrap up most of the other threads tonight, and I more than likely won't be tagging them for awhile (I'M SORRY D8 D8). For my characters...

( short blurbs on what they're doing and godmode rights, etc )

Again guys, I'm really sorry about the timing. :C AND IF YOU WOULD LIKE/WANT/NEED ANY OF MY CHARACTERS ANYWHERE, comment here, send me a plurk (at Raelet), or a message to any of my rp accounts. THANK YOU, and I'm super sorry again. D8 D8 D8

[Yuca is cutting potatoes in Kurotsuchi's kitchen when the feed clicks on- he's humming softly to himself as if he didn't really have a care in the world, despite this last event. Sure, he looks tired, but he always looks tired. The PCD is apparently on the countertop, set to record him, but without distracting him from his cooking.]

All I'm going to say, [he finally murmurs, focusing on the potatoes as he slices them, a hair too thin,] is that reality is nothing but a clutter of memories, with new ones added as you experience them. We are defined by our memories, shaped by the experiences we still hold inside of our minds. As long as you remember the kiss of Adstringendum- the snows of it on your cheek, the sweat from the sun dripping down your back- then it was real to you, regardless of whether or not anyone else believes you. That aside...

[A long pause, and he seems satisfied with that, slicing another piece. It takes him awhile to speak again; and when he does, it's almost to himself-]

One less angel. I can hardly say I'm surprised. I didn't believe in angels anyway.

[The knife slips, Yuca slices through his thumb, and blood seeps out, ruining the piece of potato he's cutting. He stops then, gently sets the knife aside, and looks at it, as if it didn't hurt at all. After a long pause, Yuca pops his injured thumb in his mouth, sucking at the blood, and reaches over with his other hand to absently turn off the PCD.]

[Text || Some time later || Private to Kurotsuchi]
Johannes Cabal is gone as well. He was the only other scientist here worth a damn. You have been, and now remain, my only way to find death. I am going to raid his lab for any equipment soon, if you'd like to join me.

[As the video clicks on, Yuca can be seen crossing along the many graves in the back of cross church. The graves, which are usually faded to obscurity, now all bear his name- Yuca Collabel. They're all dated differently, through different times in history- and there are literally dozens of them, enough to fade into the background. He coughs once, glancing up through the fog, before sighing.]

Everything dies. One can even say that people die because people live- that life is the ultimate evil, as it always and unerringly results in death. No matter what your beliefs may be, the permanence of death is very real, isn't it? Friends dying, family dying, pets, plants, flowers- death is the one constant in the world.

[He finally sits on a gravestone, examining the faded date for a moment, before kicking out his feet.]

Time is the only thing that separates you from death. You will die, your children will die, and someday, their children's children will die. Nothing matters, not really. Not when faced with time.

[A pause. Yuca smiles, but it's not entirely pleasant.]

So tell me, Adstring: why are you upset?

Two years.

[A small pause- Yuca looks down at the PCD, fiddling with some of the buttons.]

It's something to look back on, I suppose.

[He's quiet, almost vulnerable. Yuca bites his lower lip and looks away. He doesn't care. He's never cared. People were just here for a short time before they died, and took all of their feelings with them. He doesn't speak for a long time- he's busy trying to do something with the PCD, his breath coming a little shaky.]

But, all this time, and I- I thought that, this place- these people, they might be different. But they're not, are they? [Quiet. He's not himself right now.] No. No, it's no different. People live, people go, and people lie.

[Yuca takes a deep breath.]

It'll never be any different.



[[ooc: Hubby is gone. ;w; YUCA HAS A SAD AND DOES NOT KNOW WHY. Also is minorly drunk. And sort-of evented. Way to go. :T]

[The video feed starts with showing Cross Church- or at least, what used to be the church. The roof has all but caved in, splintered, rotting wood jutting out at every angle, stained glass windows shattered under the strain, the foundations beginning to splinter. Clearly, tragically, unsafe.

Yuca sighs softly, before rotating the camera to face him. He looks- upset, sad, but most of all, exhausted. He's going on quite some time without sleep now, and he'll need to soon, but- for now, he's doing his best to hold it off.]

...the church was destroyed in the flood.

[He looks down, fiddling with the sleeve of his robes.]

I... some of you- offered to help fix it, after the event was over. And I- I wouldn't ask if it wasn't important to me and a few of the other citizens-

[Yuca bites his lip. Even if he had no spiritual attachment to the church, even if he didn't believe in God (or at the very least, held some icy bitterness against Him)... this was the church that he worked on so long with Rain, before he left. Yuca couldn't let it fall to ruins now.]

If not, that's- it's alright. I'm going to start trying to rebuild it myself anyway, I just thought... maybe a little help-

[After a long moment, he sighs and slowly reaches up to turn off the feed (or so it seems).]

[Private to Kurotsuchi Mayuri and Nemu | Unhackable]

[That innocent little priesty-look? Gone. Instead, he looks almost bored. Still exhausted, just... bored.]

Have you retrieved the angel blood from its hiding place? I want to start running a few tests, now that the flood is over.

Did anyone else hear the explosion last night?

I hope everyone is okay.

[Private | Unackable to Sharem Cordelan]

I... I need to tell you something.

[Private | Unhackable to Alphonse Elric]

I didn't really thank you for- the event. What happened. So- thanks. I'm sorry if I hurt you.

...it's getting to be Spring.

[Well into Spring, really. There's a little rustle of fabric as Yuca shifts where he's sitting.]

I wonder if I should start a garden again. Rain isn't here to help me though- and last time, it went badly.

[Yuca is quiet, contemplating this.]

At the very least, it could provide us with food. Mother, what do you think?

[The feed cuts out.]

[Private | Unhackable to Kurotsuchi]

...I'm sorry about last week. I can only imagine how- annoying that must have been.

[Private | Unhackable to Lucifer]

[There's a long pause, as Yuca tries to think of what to say- what to ask. Finally, he settles for blunt, direct.]

What did you do to me?

[Quiet footsteps up the hallway, bare toes pattering against the floor. There's a bowl of cereal in his hands, as he moves, humming a soft tune to himself. The way the camera is angled- looks like it fell of the desk at the end of the hall or something- you can't see his face. Just his feet, his legs, the bowl in his hands.

Yuca stops in front of Rain's door and knocks softly. Upon getting no response, he knocks a little harder.]

Rain, I got breakfast. You don't have to worry, I didn't make it... I mean, I did, but it was just mixing together milk and cereal, so I don't think I messed up too badly. [A soft laugh, and another knock. Still no response.]

...are you alright? Rain?

[The doorknob slowly turns and the door opens with a soft creak. There's a short pause, and the bowl slips out of his hands.

It seems to take an eternity to fall through to the floor. When it does, it shatters into hundreds of pieces, milk and cereal splashing everywhere. His toes are drenched, bleeding in a few small places.

Yuca's feet rush into the room, and there's the sound of bedding and books being thrown across it. Soon enough, that too fades into silence, and a quiet sob bubbles up and out of the room, so soft that it almost wasn't recorded at all.]