Ninth Light

[curseu-reflexes.livejournal.com]

[In the wake of the most recent mission, you'll find a disheartening sight if you enter the hangar.  The HK-1138' Corona lies in a crumpled, ruined heap off in a side designated for unsalvagable wrecks, the entire machine nearly split in twain height-wise, a huge chunk of it just fucking gone.  Those parts from before?  Yeah, phoney.  All of them.  Danconias-Phillips imitation parts and completely incompatible.  You didn't actually think they'd HELP Julia, did you?]

Come on... move... move!

[And elsewhere in the hangar, Julia has been trying as hard as she can to use other machines.  Knightmare Frames.  Mobile Suits.  Everything and anything that currently isn't claimed by someone else just so no stone was unturned.  But it's all for naught.  Her hands fly wildly and clumsily at the controls.  It takes all of her willpower and focus to just a machine to stumble awkwardly forward, and all too often her machine stumbles and falls.  And finally after one failure too many...

[Well, everyone has a breaking point and Julia's just hit hers.]

I can't...

I can't pilot anymore...

Comments

[curseu-reflexes.livejournal.com]

[It's not so much by choice but rather convenience that Julia move towards the arboretum. That side's closer and she's more shuffling along listlessly than anything else. She's also too unwilling to strike up a conversation on her own.]

[emorangerpink]

[Laura hands her the food once they're underway, and leaves her silence, too. Simple human presence is worth more than anything she can think of to say. Instead she just walks along with Julia, keeping them moving without hurrying her, still holding her hand if she doesn't pull away, trying to simply be there with no pressure beyond that.]