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[His omen barks. Yes, hello Vi! Very good to hear you!]

I'm... I... he's gone, Vi.

[There's a whine and a nudge from his omen.]

F... Falco, I mean. He's...

... He's dead, Vi. He's...

[it's an internal record scratch that actually causes her to stumble in her tracks, miss a jump and land unexpectedly - she saves it, but that's a skinned knee and a banged elbow - which, honestly? nothing compared to the sick churn in her stomach. she's still a moment longer until she's sure she won't retch - or mostly sure before she picks up the pace again.

she has no idea if what killed falco could be near jun right now, and she's about to show up - figurative guns blazing - ready to kill, to take a hit, to do whatever - but he's ...alone when she spots him. just alone half sunk in the snow - and she runs to meet him, he's dead echoing in her mind with every step, her fists smoking black pushing snow aside as she makes a clear trail to him.

once there, she doesn't notice the frozen tears on her lashes, but she's surprised by the raw horror in her voice.

this isn't---

---this is not supposed to be happening.

but she'll attempt to pull him out and lift him into her arms, swallowing down the bile, the sorrow, the flashback to the tower's top floors.]

Jun, I---

---where do you want to go? I'm getting you the fuck out of here.

[another look behind her - all seems to be still, but in trench that can mean nothing.]

[In retrospect, he should have been more clear - but he's not thinking clearly right now.]

[He doesn't resist being pulled out of the snow, his omen sitting down at Vi's feet. The omen doesn't look distressed, at least.]

I don't... know. Anywhere. I'm just...

He... he didn't tell me he was sick, he just...

[He's shivering, his fingers still red and raw from the cold. His jacket is unzipped, but he's at least wearing one.]

[anywhere could be the rookery. but it's not familiar to jun, and he probably needs that, it's a safer bet - and her mind is racing as she hefts him - that part's easy, and it's the same series of flashbacks, too. the tower, the tower, the tower. falco's dead. the tower. falco's---

---nope. no time for this. she can't let it put out the emotional signature to jinx, or slow her down in her own movements - she still doesn't know what this is, or what could happen. so it's the roost. destination roost, and her omen swirls around her chest and slinks back into her feet, pushing her to move faster. jun's as light as a bag of feathers now, and her feelings are stuffed down until they can get out - chakras pushing, too - she leaps rather than climbs - and her feet barely touch ground as she moves where she means to - smoke on her heels and jun wrapped tight in her arms - she doesn't need them for balance when she's like this.

she'll find a way in regardless, and she'll start a fire, gather blankets - but after she sets him down, after she keeps hold of him for a while until he stops shivering. or is that her own body shivering? her eyes are wet, so it could be her sobs that move them. could be his. does it matter?]

Okay.

[falco's dead. it's not okay. he's not okay. she's---

---she'll worry about that later. she'll grab the things, and help herself to a bottle from the bar, and return. when she does, she looks him over for injury. again. she takes his hand and waits for him to speak, to move, to ...something.]

[He sits with her for a long time, not saying anything. The grief is raw and real, a ragged hole in his consciousness that he can't help but prod and hate himself for prodding all at the same time. He's not injured, just cold and afraid and... utterly lost.]

[Finally he speaks up.]

Why? Why does this keep happening to people who care about me?

I don't believe in fate or destiny or all of that crap, so... why?

[there's a start where she feels that pull on her neck (or more the idea of her neck) but it's not enough for her to break the contact - and if anything her fingers tighten just a fraction as the feeling floods into her - not ease, not even easy, but careful, cautious acceptance. the surety that yes, this moment is fucked up in so many ways, and the whole of the situation is, too. it's sad, and unfair, and terrible and probably unanswerable. but she can at least put words to that.]

I don't think there's any reason. I don't think it's to test you, or to make you stronger or ...because it was fate, I just think it happened. I know that doesn't make it any better, or any easier.

It's probably not about them, and not about you, either. But it's fucking terrible, and I wish it would stop.

[she doesn't know what to say in the wake of the news itself, or how to ask around the edges of it - it's a raw, open wound, and she tries not to poke at it, but:]

I ...I didn't know he was sick, either.

It feels like a pattern. I know it's not. But it's hard when something feels like a fact when it's not.

[He breathes in slowly, trying to leave the pain behind. It's not working very well.]

I don't think he told anyone. Maybe the people from his world knew, but... I don't really know them. He probably figured we would just worry if we knew...

Yeah. 'Cause whatever's true doesn't feel true in the moment, it ...fucks all the facts up, and then they feel like they don't mean anything.

M-maybe. That's a good reason not to say anything, and Falco's--- [wince. it's was now. was.] ---he didn't like to worry people.

[maybe he counted on coming back. she doesn't say that aloud. sometimes feelings can't be helped by slotting in 'hope' everywhere - sometimes a feeling just has to be ridden out, and through and ...something. she wishes she were better at this.]

It's... it's frustrating. It makes figuring the situation out all the more difficult.

[Talking about him in the past tense, he just... he can't...]

No, he doesn't. I... we're going to have to have a talk when he comes back... I'd rather be worried than have something like this happen...

( so there's something that hits her unexpectedly. the grief, hopeless, and wanting to just... sink into the most deepest hole of nothing but the shadows of emptiness. and for a moment, jinx rides the wave of it -- she shouldn't, but it's such a natural response for her to follow when it's something she's been so in tune with.

there's something that snaps her out of it though. a realization that this feeling isn't her own, but her sister's. what's going on over there that's causing her to feel this way? whatever it is, she can't have her sister fall in this path -- any road is better than this one. so vi will feel a tug somewhere in the back of her neck. a similar notion of a person having a firm grasp of their clothing from behind, then yanking them out of the quick sand. )

( and then there's a trade off; her swapping spots with her sibling to sink in the quick sand instead. yes, the two of them had lost so much -- but with her doing this exact dance numerous times, what's one more go around? her older sibling will scold her for this later, but for right now, she will grab a hold of this dread and plunge herself feet first in this swamp. 'be brave, sis. stand tall, i believe in you, you can do this. whatever it is you're going through.' )

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