contempsi: ({um...})
[A few weeks have passed since his arrival; Hope's grown more accustomed to the way things run around here, finally gotten some climate-decent clothing, and is now attempting to stick his neck out further—for better or worse. When the video comes on, he's wearing a dark green turtleneck sweater—since there's no errant silver feathers sticking out behind him, this suggests that he opted to cover his wings instead of letting them hang out to be vulnerable.

His head is sort of halfway tucked on his folded arms, which suggests he's lounging across something—probably his bed. Hope props his chin in hand, staring at the camera.
]

So... ah... [Idly adjusting the cuff of his sleeve.] I guess... it's time for me to go back to school, huh. [He gives a faint, nervous sort of smile.] Who here's already going? Um... I guess... i-it'd be nice to know who I'm going to be in class with. Or do they separate it by years here... like they did back in my hometown?

[There's the sounds of shuffling, then, and he quickly turns his head to the side.] W-what...!? H-hey, stop! [A black nose appears in view, along with the heavy sounds of panting—before a thick pink tongue drags over his cheek.] Gross! Cut that out, Baldr! I'm trying to... stop it! [He's clearly trying not to laugh, though, as half a curly black puppy face appears in the view, an audible thumpthumpthumpthump as his wagging tail smacks against the bed each time.] HOPE PLAY! HOPE PLAY!

We'll play later! [Hope's brow furrows as he attempts to shove the young dog away, now occupying the furniture. He gives up then, with a heavy SIGH, pulling the journal back toward him.]

I... guess they don't allow pets there, right?
contempsi: ({sorrow})
[Groggy and disoriented, Hope awakens in the middle of the forest—just as he'd left it.

Or maybe not so much. The air is cold against his skin, and that's the first thing he notices as he lifts a hand to rub at his eyes. His clothes are gone entirely; there's nothing on his person but a simple pair of white pants, and in the chill of winter, they aren't much help.

Never mind the fact that Pulse wasn't this cold in the first place, by a long shot.

There's also a stiffness in his back, and when he folds his bare arms around himself for warmth, feeling the bumps raise on his skin—the ache in his shoulderblades is almost excruciating. Wincing in pain, the boy automatically lifts a hand to touch the afflicted area as his eyes dart around in search of his tiny companion, who had accompanied him on his food-gathering expedition.
]

...Chocobo...?

[The confused question immediately catches on a gasp of surprise as his fingers brush against something decidedly feathery on his back. Hope immediately twists his head back to see just what the heck is wrong with him, finding a pair of wings there, of all things—wings with silken feathers the same pale silver as his hair.]

What—

[His heart begins to race in fear and uncertainty, though he attempts to will it down. If he allows himself to become too stressed, after all... Hope lifts his arm, staring at the marking on his wrist. The crimson eye, slowly on the edges of awakening, stares back—and he immediately squeezes his eyes shut, turning his face away. As he lowers his hand again, it brushes against something. He snatches the object up: it's a book.

It doesn't take Hope long at all to figure out the thing—he's a smart kid. Clearly, with the marked buttons and everything, it can be used to communicate with others. But where did it come from? This doesn't look like anything they have on Cocoon, even with its advanced technology... and Gran Pulse is so primitive in comparison. It doesn't make sense.

No matter. Finding the others is of the utmost importance, before it's too late. Pressing the button that would enable him to broadcast his voice, Hope attempts to send out a message to the other l'Cie, in hopes that maybe they were able to locate a similar device, or that perhaps it would transmit to some kind of central beacon.
]

...um... guys...?

[His voice is thick from sleep, slightly slurred. He clears his throat.] Can anyone hear me? I... I think I got lost, and I can't find Chocobo either. Someone... or something... robbed me, too. As... as weird as that sounds. So... it doesn't look like we're alone here after all.

Um... I'm going to try to find my way back, but... [He trails off, biting his lip, feeling a little silly.] ...if I don't make it back... just... go on without me.

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Hope Estheim

January 2019

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