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008 || {Action} || Backdated to the evening of the 10th.
[Hope had been grateful for the warmth, and he was almost sorry to see it on the verge of fading away. At the same time, though, autumn was something he found himself looking forward to as he'd never experienced anything like it back on Cocoon. Leaves turning colours? Quite the interesting phenomenon!
It had been overcast that day, which only added to Hope's gloomy mood. Most kids look forward to their birthday with excitement, in practically any world as he'd discovered living here - and he, too, was still pleased to find himself growing both in height and in smarts - but it also left him feeling strange and a bit emotionally disoriented. His last birthday had been different. Completely different. He had been different. The Pulse fal'Cie were little more than frightening legends as far as he'd been concerned. His Mom had been there, his school friends... Dad was not, of course. As usual. But even that was familiar, part of his old life. Despite everything he's outgrown and overcome, there's still a part of him that would give anything to be back home with his mother and - as funny as it would sound - having another dumb argument with his father.
It doesn't matter how old he gets. That part of him might be buried, hidden, but it will never go completely away.
As such, though he's already somewhat shy and introverted when it comes to gatherings, he'd sworn up and down to Lightning that he did not want a party of any type. In all honesty, he didn't want any kind of fuss made over him... but he resigned himself to the fact that it wouldn't be completely avoidable.
As such, in the end, that lack of a party turned into a cozy little gathering with his housemates around a campfire by the seaside. He could try and cover it up with more teenage moodiness, but truth be told, the summer days were waning and soon it would be too cold to even really spend time on the beach - let alone pitch a fire.
So he's fifteen now. It feels strange to say, even stranger than when he had to get used to being fourteen! And in just a few months, he'll have been here for a year. It's funny how easily time slips away.
Maybe a year from now, for his not-so-sweet sixteen, he'll finally be ready to be social.]
( OOC: This can just be free-for-all style threading instead of a posting order! If any of Hope's friends/acquaintances beyond House Lucky want to drop by we can assume he invited them to come hang out too. ♥ )
It had been overcast that day, which only added to Hope's gloomy mood. Most kids look forward to their birthday with excitement, in practically any world as he'd discovered living here - and he, too, was still pleased to find himself growing both in height and in smarts - but it also left him feeling strange and a bit emotionally disoriented. His last birthday had been different. Completely different. He had been different. The Pulse fal'Cie were little more than frightening legends as far as he'd been concerned. His Mom had been there, his school friends... Dad was not, of course. As usual. But even that was familiar, part of his old life. Despite everything he's outgrown and overcome, there's still a part of him that would give anything to be back home with his mother and - as funny as it would sound - having another dumb argument with his father.
It doesn't matter how old he gets. That part of him might be buried, hidden, but it will never go completely away.
As such, though he's already somewhat shy and introverted when it comes to gatherings, he'd sworn up and down to Lightning that he did not want a party of any type. In all honesty, he didn't want any kind of fuss made over him... but he resigned himself to the fact that it wouldn't be completely avoidable.
As such, in the end, that lack of a party turned into a cozy little gathering with his housemates around a campfire by the seaside. He could try and cover it up with more teenage moodiness, but truth be told, the summer days were waning and soon it would be too cold to even really spend time on the beach - let alone pitch a fire.
So he's fifteen now. It feels strange to say, even stranger than when he had to get used to being fourteen! And in just a few months, he'll have been here for a year. It's funny how easily time slips away.
Maybe a year from now, for his not-so-sweet sixteen, he'll finally be ready to be social.]
( OOC: This can just be free-for-all style threading instead of a posting order! If any of Hope's friends/acquaintances beyond House Lucky want to drop by we can assume he invited them to come hang out too. ♥ )
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[ She glances down quickly, sort of gesturing at his bare feet without actually moving. Of course, considering she's already stripped off her own footwear too, it would seem she had the same idea. Her smile is a touch wry as she tilts her head, but then she dips her chin down, venturing a little with: ]
You look like you have a lot rolling around in your head today.
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[Hope sighs, idly slipping his hands into his pockets as he peers out over the horizon again. Yep, so broody that he doesn't even make a grab for the box she's holding. Yet.]
Well... it's kind of dumb. Sometimes I— I still expect to see lights in the sky.
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I don't think that's dumb; everything is so different here, it's almost impossible to really get your head around it all. [ Sigh. ] Don't let anyone fool you otherwise.
[ Maybe just a little bit bitter there? Yeah, because it can be hard to try and learn when most people here seem to take how planets and suns work as things you learn when you're a little kid... and when no you don't really want to explain Cocoon because that is one massive can of worms not worth unloading on those you don't know very well. ]
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[He idly pats some sand off his shorts before glancing her way again.] I can't believe it's already been a year since my last birthday. Everything was different then. Really different. And... and that means in just a few months, it'll also be a year since—
[The words had kind of been blurted out there; he hadn't really intended on spilling his guts to anyone. Not tonight. For precisely that reason— he's not really sure where he'd find an ending point. Trailing off there, Hope scuffles a toe into the sand at his feet, chewing his bottom lip around the edges of a frown.]
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Lightning bows her head slightly, the pink hair around her face obscuring her expression. However, the slow breath she takes in and out then is audible over the quiet of the night and beach around them anyway, even above the murmur of voices from those still around and the sound of the water crashing in at their feet. ]
Not a happy anniversary.
[ Her voice is subdued, but she remains standing straight, and it's only a moment more before she glances over, pale eyes studying the teen's face... and then she shifts, moving the plain box from under her arm to in front of her instead. ]
... Here.
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[Hope reaches for the offered box, expression unreadable at first as he stares over the top of it.]
... you really got me something?
[His face softens into a little smile. It doesn't matter that things are more readily available here than in places where one must earn everything they receive— but it doesn't matter to him. Money or not, gifts are just as important in the end.
His hands work at the parcel, carefully lifting it open.]
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Because yeah, it's a long, elaborate knife- mostly pale green, tan, and silver, with a hand-length blade and... an actual sheathe, rather than the folding mechanism of a particular other knife it vaguely resembles.
And of course, considering how common it is for weapons and tools to bear their Cocoon-born owner's name on them somewhere, this one's no different-- although rather than just his first name, the entire thing is there, noticeably deliberate: "HOPE ESTHEIM," etched onto both sides of the blade.
Pretty damn bittersweet and Lightning know it, but... ]
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Its full weight resting cold against his palm, Hope curls his fingers around the handle for a moment: right where it's connected with the sheath. Silent save for a quiet breath, he slides it out carefully until it's finally fallen free of its covering. A finger carefully traces the blade, the engraving, briefly resting on the subtly-carved letters.
He's managed to kept most of the emotion out of his face, but after a moment, the knife's re-sheathed. Gripping it in a fist, almost protectively, Hope immediately turns toward Lightning and...
Well, hugs her.
Or at least, an awkward boyish sort of halfway-hug with one arm. It's over in a matter of seconds, both of them with tough-guy reputations to maintain (fffff), and he pushes the handle back the slightest bit again. The hint of metal gleams with the reflecting Moon.]
Wow, I... I don't know what to say.
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Finally she breaks into a kind of quiet, wry smile again at the display of some sort of positive reaction, but though she opens her mouth to respond, she then withholds that too instead. He's a smart kid, and she figures anyway that there's little need to explain what's on her mind-- or even try to formulate 'what to say' herself, really. She huffs a breath, then gives his shoulder one last, quick squeeze; her voice dips noticeably softer. ]
Happy birthday, Hope.
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Thank you.
[His shoulders lift and fall a little from the effort of breathing; it's kind of knocked the wind out of him, all the swirling emotions her gift's evoked. But it's a good thing. Even with the pain – it's a good kind of hurt. They wouldn't be where they are without any of it.
Now that he's properly thanked her and the risk has passed, he pulls the knife out of its sheath entirely again, staring at it.]
... after everything happened, I didn't even think I'd make it to see my next birthday.
[
Gravely: "l'Cie don't have birthdays."]It seems almost as strange as... weather, that isn't controlled by the fal'Cie. [He pointedly looks up at the sky when he says that.]
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[ Lowering her chin, she glances obliquely at him. Dark but true-- but especially dark, considering the price of her own l'Cie Brand wearing itself out...
But really she doesn't seem very bothered. Actually, her demeanor resembles something closer to stubbornness than anything else- impossibly difficult situations thrown at them and all, they still haven't fallen or given up yet.
She spares the speech- after so long bouncing off each other? By now they don't have to be spoken, as Lightning sees it. After all, she just handed over to him a knife too, packed with silent significance that she trusts he understands, judging from his reaction. Instead, she moves on, dragging her gaze away to follow his once more. Distantly, she notes that's the second similar comment he's made about the place during this conversation. ]
Now that... that's something I don't think I'll ever understand.
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[Though it's left no physical side-effects behind, even just thinking about the burnt-out marking on his wrist makes it seem to itch – he reaches to scratch at it self-consciously with a slight frown.]
Most of the people here say that all of this is something that happens naturally. At least – that's how it is in their worlds. But these guys who kidnapped us, brought us here in the first place, and keep dragging us away... I wonder how much of it they really do control.
I guess we're pets to them too, huh. [A dry smile.]
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[ And there's really no end to the annoyance Lightning gets out of knowing that, of being someone's play-thing to mess around with just to see what happens, apparently. There's really nothing they can do that can cause her to forgive that. Ever.
She shifts her weight, glaring out over the dark water, and doesn't elaborate. The only thing that's worse than all that? Is the knowledge that there isn't anything she can even do about it...!
Safe to say that this is absolutely a woman who'd be getting a lot of frequent flier miles on the Guilt Plane. ]