Reconciliation
John had just experienced possibly the most emotionally charged moments in his life. Not only that, but he had seen arguably the most beautiful young woman he'd ever met before actually approaching her. And to top it all off, John had overcome the largest mental hurdle he could imagine in starting a real life conversation with her.
But now...
John is striking out... terribly.
"Ladies love it?" Blake echoes with vague amusement and a raised brow.
John chuckles nervously at her from across the table, mentally facepalming himself for what is likely his cheesiest line ever uttered in reply to her polite compliment about his name after giving him hers.
"Well, I mean, my moth- you know what? It's a silly thing that popped into my head, so I just went with it," John sputters out in his attempt to recover, readjusting himself in his seat as the young woman spares him a small smile.
"You tend to do things that simply 'pop into your head' often?"
Her smile widens into a knowing smirk as John realizes that she's referring to his current position at her booth, her rhetoric giving her an upper hand that he knows he'll fail to recover from if he can't get back on level ground with her quick enough.
"Well yeah," he retorts, crossing his arms on the table in front of him and slightly leaning forward with what he hopes is a confident smile, "I'd hate to miss an opportunity to rekindle ties with an old acquaintance."
"And if I'm not an old acquaintance?" Blake shoots back in rebuttal without missing a beat, her brow still raised in her amused expression which only tells John that she's giving him yet another chance... like a cat playing with a ball of yarn, the thought unexpectedly crosses his mind.
Unfazed, John simply replies, "Well if you're not, then that's fine, too. Strangers are just friends you haven't met yet."
Her smile faltering for just a moment after hearing his last statement, Blake finally gives him an accepting nod as her expression returns to normal and she leans forward just a fraction of a degree.
"Alright. Think you can tell me where we've met before?"
John hums in thought, letting his eyes wander out the window before blinking at what looked like a towering archaic structure in the distance. Quickly shaking his head, he refocuses on the strangely familiar building only to see that it was the prominent New York City skyline over the horizon.
"Well that's where it gets a little tricky," John drawls as he turns to face her with a raised brow, enjoying how she then ticks her head to the side in curiosity before he continues, "You from around here?"
At that, the ravenette sitting across from John lets her gaze drop for a moment, eyes darting across her book for a second as if she were unsure how to reply, "Um, no... I'm actually just passing through to pay my respects to an old friend and producer who recently passed away. And... for some other business."
"I see," John replies, his curiosity getting the better of him as well as he watches the girl who has yet to let their gazes meet again, "His name... it wouldn't happen to be Monty Lee, would it?"
Blake's expression suddenly takes a turn for the brighter as recognition dawns on her features and she turns to face John again, "You knew Monty?"
"Eh, not really," John admits with a sheepish shrug, "I've been good friends with his younger brother since high-school, but I didn't really get to know Monty much. I doubt you and me met through him. I take it you're going to his memorial tomorrow?"
"Among other things," Blake replies blithely as he settles back into her seat with a sigh, "In any case, I suppose we've reached an impasse. We can neither identify any previous acquaintance nor explain any reason for the confusion. I guess it was just a misunderstan- oof, do you smell that?"
John furrows his brows at the sudden expression of distaste she makes, scrunching her nose and furrowing her own brows in a way he has to admit is more adorable than anything else. Looking around, John spots a heavy-set man sitting at the counter just a few feet away from the side of their table getting served a fresh steamy morning sausage, egg and cheese sandwich into a to-go bag... with extra sausage. Turning to glance at the ravenette's expression of utter disgust at the meal, John quickly curbs his automatic reaction to salivate at the meat as he turns his attention back to her.
"Um... I take it you don't like the smell of meat. You a vegan or something?"
Blake purses her lips in thought as she tilts her head down, causing her to readjust her bow on her head before it slides too far our of place, "Kind of, but not exactly. I uh, it's sort of hard to explain to people who don't know what it is, but I avoid nearly all animal products other than-"
"Pescatarian," John finishes abruptly, causing Blake to turn up to meet his gaze with a raised brow and small smirk.
"Yes... actually. I have this unbearable weakness for fish. How'd you guess?"
John opens his mouth about to answer, but finds himself shutting it as he realizes there really isn't any to give. He hums in question, tapping his chin before finally giving up with a shrug, "You know what? I'm not sure... I guess you just strike me as someone who can't stay away from seafood. For some reason, tuna comes to mind specifically."
"Hm, then maybe we have met before," she muses aloud with a smile, her hazel eyes glinting amber again in the reflected light from outside as a car passes the window beside them.
"I'm sure there are plenty of sushi places we might've bumped into each other in the past."
The remark causes the young woman to giggle, an endearing show of emotion as she holds a hand up to her mouth so as not to seem uncouth but unwittingly letting her bow drop off her head in the process.
"Oops, must've left it tied too loosely. One sec," she states as she turns to pick up the black ribbon on the side of her seat, giving John a view of a grinning Norah approaching his table from behind with a hot coffee... and his custom-ordered meat mountain on eggs.
"No, no!" John half-mouths, half-whispers at the suddenly surprised ginger waitress as he stiffly motions her away with his hand outside of Blake's vision. Stopping in place, Norah cocks her head to the side at him before Blake straightens up with her bow back in place, to which John quickly readjusts himself with elbows on table and as calm a smile as he can muster at her.
"Is... everything okay?" Blake asks with an amused smile at John's clearly not-so-calm demeanor, catching his brief glance over her shoulder at the young waitress who is finally beginning to put two and two together.
But turning to follow John's glance, Blake misses Norah suddenly notice her action and activate her stealth mode as she abruptly tosses the food and mug to the side before diving behind the counter. John facepalms at his friend's utter failure to accommodate for the very unsubtle result of her action in the form of sound.
CRASH!
Jumping up in a huff, Norah straightens out her coffee-stained blouse as John and Blake - along with most of the other customers - watch her quickly look around the restaurant in a rather convincing show of anger, "Hey! Who... Who left their food just lying around on the floor like that!? I'll break his legs!"
Blake turns back slowly to face John with wide eyes, evidently trying to hold back a chuckle before finally stating, "You know, I think she'd actually do it, too..."
John shakes his head with a chuckle, giving the flustered waitress a relieved thumbs-up under the table before replying, "Heh, just don't give her a weapon."
"I can only imagine the havoc she'd wreak with a bat..."
Or a hammer, John suddenly thinks to himself, causing him some lingering form of shell-shock as he glances with a fading smirk at the goofy waitress picking up the mess.
A hammer, in the rain, planted in the soggy earth as its owner lies impaled on the ground beside it...
"John... John?"
Brought back to the moment by the unexpected contact from the hand of the dark-haired beauty in front of him on his forearm, John fights back a rush of blood to his head from a storm of emotions he hadn't quite felt before... or thought that he hadn't felt before... before clearing his throat with a small smile.
"Y-Yeah?"
"Hm, thought I lost you there for a moment," Blake noted with a slightly concerned expression before leaning back in her seat and falling back to her idly content smile, "I was just asking if you were vegan by any chance."
"Uh, y-no. No, I don't think I could be completely vegan for too long. Unless you count chicken parmesan as vegan."
Giving him a deadpan, Blake finally shakes her head with a restrained chuckle, "That would be a no. Monty used to talk about going vegan but never got around to it himself..."
She then lets her gaze drift outside the window as she had when the blonde had first seen her, letting out a small sigh before continuing, "I hear he blamed this fast-food chain for making him consider it in the first place; that he used to come here often anyways to think up new ideas for his productions and art series..."
John, recovering from the lingering buzz in his head that for a moment almost feels like the after-shock of a literal explosion, then asks in curiosity, "Then I'd say you've heard quite a bit about him. How'd you two know each other?"
Once again, Blake hesitates for just a moment, letting her gaze run down and over her book and table before slowly bringing them up to John's, "Well a few years ago... in better days... Monty helped a group of animal rights activists I work with design our logo and group-specific apparel. He was actually an integral part in our program before a new leader stepped up to handle our group... he and I kept in touch after that, but drifted apart with time. It seems time has its way of pulling everything apart, I suppose."
"Not everything," John catches himself saying without realizing, the girl's expression slowly softening into the first warm smile at him that he'd seen her give since telling him her name. And all at once, he felt that he'd do anything to keep it there as he breaks out a small smile in turn.
"...You know, I honestly don't know why I feel like I know you from somewhere, but I do," Blake finally states with a short laugh, shaking her head at the young man, "Otherwise, I probably wouldn't have let you get past the whole 'Short, sweet, rolls off the tongue' bit."
John chuckles as he replies, "Hey, someday I'm sure there will be a lady who loves it!"
"And it'll be a sad day indeed," Blake replies with a melodramatic tone before her phone buzzes, causing her to quickly take it out and glance at the device.
John can't help a small snort as he internally remarks, A gold and white iPhone... what a coincidence.
But in noting the device, he accidentally sees the name on the screen just before she answers it.
Torres, Adan
Silently cursing at herself, Blake mutters quickly as she gathers her things into the black tote sitting under the table by her feet, "It's my boyfriend. I have to answer this."
John gives no reply as the sudden feeling of an 18-wheeler slamming him in the face causes him to reel in place.
That... can't be right. All this? The coincidence? The timing? And she's already taken!?
"Bu-, bwah-, um, okay?" John can barely mutter as Blake quickly mumbles a few things into the line and stands before placing the phone on mute and glancing at the blonde with the same apologetic smile she had in the beginning.
"You know, you're likely one of the most awkward conversation starters I've ever met," she begins bluntly, flashing John a quick grin as he visibly balks at the remark without any control of the redness that rises in his cheeks, before she stills his reaction with a brief touch to his shoulder with her free hand, "But for what it's worth, don't change a thing. It's... oddly endearing, actually."
The conflicting emotions crashing in John's head like a small group of freight trains, he merely replies with a drawn out chuckle, "Hehhhh..."
"So, see you tomorrow?" she adds quickly, John catching a hint of a blush at her own cheeks before she retracts her hand to adjust the tote strap on her shoulder. He shakes off the notion of possibly reciprocated emotion... due to her current situation, he mentally adds darkly... before working up a small pseudo-smile.
"I uh, yeah. See you then. Hopefully."
Blake is no longer able to answer as she takes the phone off mute and gives him a silent wave before turning and leaving with the impressive feat of barely making a sound. But John doesn't notice that as he props his head on his hands and groans aloud before Norah quickly passes by to drop off the check for both parties, causing him to groan again.
"Better be ready for tomorrow, he said. You'll never know who you'll meet, he said," John mutters angrily at his roommate's previous comments as he drops the printed total of cash onto the table, "At least Norah gave me a decent discount."
And without another word, John stands before making his way out towards the side door, glancing down behind him as he notices that the door doesn't close after he exits. To ensure that no one is following him, he takes a few steps forward while still looking back at the door which must clearly be broken to stay open mid-hinge like that. Well who cares if the door is broken!
Screw that door.
But no sooner does John finish the thought when he walks into the hood of a stationary car in the middle of the parking lot. Turning to face the driver in his boiling blood, John's oncoming wave of colorful language comes to a screeching halt as he notices the driver on the cellphone in the driver's seat... completely motionless.
"Wait... what?"
John looks up and around the busy turnpike, and only then notices that everything around the White Castle has been frozen - vehicles, stoplights, and even pedestrians. Not even a sound.
"You know, for someone who has arguably had the most enthralling day of his life, I'm quite astounded that you seem so... aggravated."
Casting aside logic in the face of his anger, John simply grumbles without turning to see the voice behind him, "Then obviously, you didn't hear how that last conversation ended..."
However, upon turning around, John is surprised to see no one there, and is only further surprised when he sees a single unusual figure standing next to a nearby lamppost as soon as he turns forwards. He squints his eyes at her as if trying to recall her from a dream... was she from his dream? Her garb looks like she could be, but at the same time it looked too... regal, to be from that world. From Remnant.
"You're still trying to ascertain my identity," the blonde figure begins as John takes a step closer.
"You... you literally just appeared out of thin air," John begins in no small measure of wonder as he tries to understand what he just witnessed. Sure, superpowers in a dream is one thing, but having someone appear out of nothing in real life!?
Something else entirely.
Her outfit is mostly blue with silver trimming, accented with small armor plating on her arms, waist and chest. Her hair is neatly tied into a bun, two bangs hanging on the sides of her face which serve to frame her eyes which are as blue as her garb. But not exactly blue, John thinks as he tries to think of the color...
"I believe the word you seek is Cerulean."
"...Aaaand, she can read my mind," John drawls in disbelief, his shoulders slumping as she hides a small giggle behind her armored glove.
"No no, hardly," she replies with a benign shake of her head, "I've simply come to know humans long enough to guess at their most general musings at any given moment."
"So you said humans just then. You're..."
"Also human? Yes."
"But..."
"Different? Not as much as you may imagine."
"Really. Then..."
"Who am I?" the lady pauses before glancing at the young man with an almost playful smirk, "I'm afraid being so blunt as to tell you my identity would only serve to confuse you further..."
"Well that's not your problem to worry about!" John snaps, the surreal nature of the situation around him sinking in and only managing to frustrate him further, "You're apparently here because you know who I am; my name, as you may or may not know already, is John Luna, so let's just be civil about things for a change without resorting to weird time circles and stuff!"
"Hm. I wouldn't call it a time circle. A few may call it a reality marble, but I'd say this is more like a bounded circle, set to temporarily freeze the passage of time," the lady muses aloud in thought, drawing out the pause on purpose before amiably chuckling at the young man's glare, "But of course, for the sake of chivalry, it simply wouldn't do for one to retain anonymity when the other party has willingly identified themselves... from one knight to another, John, I shall oblige your request. My name... is Arturia."
The young man simply stands there for a moment, dumbfounded by the strange terms and references to each of them.
"I told you you'd simply be burdened with more questions than answers should I reply."
"A-A knight? Wha... why are you here?" John finally asks, letting his shoulders slump at the weight of her reply.
"In reality, the one to whom you should be directing that question is yourself. Be that as it may, I am here because of you, John. Your Semblance called out to me, and here I am."
Semblance. That word... it's familiar...
"The unique manifestation of your Aura, unlocked after years of successful rigorous training," Arturia continues, further ringing bells in John's mind that he can't quite place, "No recognition yet?"
"It sounds... like I should by now," the young man begins slowly, rummaging through his mind for the pieces of images he's been able to store over the past few weeks, "I've been having these dreams. Of people, like you... but things were very bad for them from what I remember. It was a place called Remnant."
"So you do remember," she notes with a knowing smile before taking a breath of what looks like relief, "Tell me, John. In your dreams of that world, did you ever ask yourself why it was called Remnant? ...did you ever ask yourself what that world was a remnant of?"
John blinks in thought before his eyes slowly begin to widen in realization, his disbelief to what Arturia is implying offset only by the disbelief that his current situation isn't a dream as well.
"You mean... Remnant is real? That Remnant is... is..."
"Earth?" Arturia replies simply before stepping forward to close the space between the two, "Or what it may become, at least."
"You say may. So my dreams. They might not happen?"
At that, the lady takes the young man and guides him by the shoulder to the hood of the frozen vehicle, "You may wish to sit for this. Technically, in a way the vast majority of mankind has yet to comprehend, they already have."
John literally feels the world spinning around him with an ill groan before he's graciously anchored by the lady's hand planted on his shoulder for him to regain his bearings. Having barely escaped fainting, he slowly refocuses on Arturia until he can finally attempt cohesive speech.
"How's... How's that even possible?"
"Well," she begins once more after ensuring that John wouldn't drop the moment she let go of him, "that takes us once again to the topic of your Semblance."
"I remember... at least, I think I remember... being able to do many things with that, Semblance-thing, that you're talking about. But I'm pretty sure cheating death wasn't one of them."
"That is because you did not cheat death."
John's brows furrow at her pointed dialogue, his mouth slowly dropping open as Arturia explains further, "The Semblance you speak of was neither Polarity, Aurakinesis, nor Kinetic Replication. Your Semblance, John... is Empathy. The ability, not only to empathize and understand the way the aural energy of others functioned for you to mimic their abilities, but to transcend into understanding the very Root of existence."
"The Root of existence?" John echoes blankly, earning a sympathetic nod from his companion.
"Yes. Existing outside of time, it stores and archives information of all possibilities and events - past, present, and future - of the world. That night, John, you used your Aura at its full capacity for the first time when you spoke to those you knew would perish but you refused to let perish without hope. Your Aura stretched deeper than it ever had when you accepted yourself, your fate, and the fate of the world; and whether you knew it or not, you made not only a promise, but a contract..."
John makes a motion to protest as the details seem to be becoming too specific to believe, to which Arturia hushes him with a raised hand before concluding.
"That night, you made a contract not just with those you swore to protect, but with the world... And John, the world listened."
The young man swallows a dry know in his throat before croaking, "So my dreams... they're not dreams?"
Arturia shakes her head, a solemn expression befitting a knight in her features before she looks up to meet John's gaze, "No. Not dreams... They are memories."
John merely stares at her for a long moment in bewilderment before dropping his head in his hands and groaning loudly.
"This is insaaaaane..."
"Hm. And to think you have yet to fully remanifest your previous memories," the lady mentions lightly as she gets to her feet and begins slowly pacing in front of the young man who merely peeks at her between his fingers.
"So you're here to help me remember? Make this whole process easier on me or something?"
"No no, the path that yet lays ahead of you is much more pressing and dangerous than that, I'm afraid," she notes as she stops to face him, "I'm here to give you the choice at remembering."
At that, John takes another moment to process the information, letting out a brief sigh before dropping his arms and scooting back onto the hood of the frozen car to prop his elbows on his knees and motion for her to continue.
"Alright... I'm listening."
"Very well. As previously mentioned, you made a contract with the world. And upon your death... and yes, you did die that night... the world chose to summon you as a Guardian, a way to right the wrongs of mankind before it eventually tears itself apart."
The young man takes a deep breath to let Arturia's words simmer in his mind before exhaling sharply with his reply, "And you were saying I have a choice?"
"Indeed," she confirms with a suddenly neutral expression as if somewhat surprised he asked the question, "You have been summoned; reborn, in your case, to a time before Remnant. As a matter of fact, to a time shortly before the events that turn Earth into Remnant... you now have the ability to keep Remnant from ever becoming a reality, and to stop the events that happened that night when mankind was finally extinguished from ever happening. But of course, by being reborn instead of being... say, projected as an astral form of your being at its prime, dependent on energy from the world and from the humans that inhabit it to stay materialized... you've been granted the Independent Action to choose whether you fulfill your contract or not."
"Like, just walk away from this and choose to live my life as I was before?"
"Correct. But know that doing so will only cause the timeline to go on unhindered and for Earth as man knows it today to end, which means that even though your life will not end like it did the first time, you will be essentially sending another to take your place. And it is unlikely he or she will be able to reset the conditions as you have," Arturia warns with a stern expression, "Moreover, you should be aware that your choice to fight would also awaken natural forces set in place by the world to keep the original timeline from being affected. You may think of them as Counter-Guardians."
"So the world is already stacking the odds against me before I even choose to save it? So it's either walk away from this, or play craps against the guy with the loaded dice..."
John slowly lets his head fall, a war of emotions in his mind between the desire to continue living as if nothing happened and the desire to help those in need.
"I couldn't do that," the blonde states open-endedly, the lady's mouth slowly dropping open in surprise before he looks up at her with a steeled gaze, "Even if you could make me forget about all of this, knowing that I had a choice now, I couldn't leave others to die for me. I will do what I must so that others will never have to."
Arturia's surprise quickly ebbs away into a warm grin before nodding, "The words of a true knight. Then you are ready."
John looks around in the moment of silence that follows, slowly bringing his gaze back to the armored woman in front of him before shrugging his shoulders.
"Okay?"
"Very well," she begins as she looks up to the sky and closes her eyes as if reciting an old quote, "It is said that a good man draws a circle around himself and cares for those within. His woman, his children. Other men draw a larger circle and bring within their brothers and sisters. And fewer still have a great destiny; they must draw around themselves a circle that includes many, many more. But your circle, John... does not close. It encompasses everyone and everything..."
"Like an Arc," John whispers wide-eyed before slowly turning to meet the lady's gaze as she opens her eyes to meet his, not even noticing the wisps of shimmering wind beginning to surround them, "My name... is Jaune Arc."
shooooom...
And like a powerful pulse, John suddenly finds himself on all fours on the ground after blacking out for a moment, blinking his eyes a few times as he readjusts himself to his surroundings. But just as he thinks he ended up in some random parking lot and it was all just a dream, he suddenly finds a hand held in front of him to help him up. A hand in an armored glove.
"Aaaaagh, and here I was hoping I had been in an accident or something," John huffs as the familiar lady looks up and around to see that the small gust the event created actually unfreezes several objects around them for a split-second.
"Very interesting. The initial power surge was much stronger than I expected... you truly live up to your reputation, Arc."
"...I have a reputation?"
"Of course," Arturia mentions with a small smile as she finally gets him standing upright, "You are widely regarded within the Akashic Records as the Last Hero, borne with untold potential but cut short at the end of mankind."
"Ugh... way to lay it on thick like that," John states with a heavy breath as he scratches the back of his neck, "Just take it easy with the names, though. Still getting the hang of it."
But pausing as he contemplates the strange feeling of gradual cohesion between the foreign memories in his mind like accumulating droplets of water, John mentions as he glances at her, "Hey, I can't really remember everything, though."
"You will. With time," Arturia notes, nodding at his affirmation, "You will become aware of the power that resides within your being first. An undiscovered power which already resides in every human, but that they will finally discover... soon."
Taking her words to mind, John nods his head with a tight-lipped expression as he flexes his hands in front of him before suddenly raising a brow, "So that's first. And then?"
"You'll begin to recognize... others..."
"Others?" John echoes before his eyes go wide in realization as he glances at the White Castle, "No way..."
Turning to face her, Arturia nods at the shocked young man to confirm his deduction before elaborating, "Your contract had beneficiaries; in your case, all who fought alongside you that night. Your allies have been summoned as well, brought back in time in a way that your lives converge on a singular event... now that you've accepted your quest, your Semblance will allow them to become aware of their previous memories, too."
"But... what about her?"
Arturia momentarily furrows her brows at the pensive knight, following his line of sight until catching sight of the breakfast restaurant and gathering his meaning, "Ah. You refer to Lady Belladonna. She is the only one who seems to have begun manifesting her previous memories without your presence. She is... special, to say the least. You'll do best by taking care of her."
John's surge of what he could only describe as a mix of pride and warmth for the young woman meets a glass ceiling as he shakes his head in resignation. She was real... Blake was real, but... John didn't even want to think about it, the thought just felt so wrong...
"Well... that's gonna be tricky. And a little weird," he pauses as Arturia gives him a questioning glance before he motions towards the restaurant with a huff, "She already has a boyfriend!"
The small outburst lingers on dead air as the lady's questioning glance remains for a moment longer before her reply, "I... wasn't aware that young women were not allowed to have friendships with young men? I suppose I'm not completely aware of the customs in this era quite yet-"
"No," John replies heatedly, correcting himself with a deep breath and letting his arm which was still pointing at the store drop as he continues, "No, it's like... she's already seeing someone."
"..."
"Um, like dating?"
"..."
"You know... like courting... for marriage?"
"O-Oh dear," Arturia finally quips as she glances at the location, clearly surprised at the information as the young man furrows his brows at her.
"Where do you come from?"
At that, she merely gives a small chuckle in realization of their misunderstanding, "Ah, of course. You see, young Arc, I am from an era as far back from the present time as yours was as far forward in the future..."
"You've got a real problem with giving straight answers, you know that?" John retorts with a deadpan before sighing at the building, "Well... at least she might remember something next time we see each other."
"Yes, that she may," she notes with a more hopeful expression before glancing at the young man with a fading smile, "But be forewarned that there shall be great obstacles in your path to reconciliation. Your Semblance is mighty, but not without its drawbacks."
John turns to face her, his eyes lingering just a little longer at the building before hardening at her words and meeting her gaze as she continues.
"Every action through the Root generates an equal and opposite reaction... The world accepted your terms, but to maintain balance in the flow of life, it also used your Semblance to summon many of those who had a hand in the destruction of the world as you once knew it."
"...WHAT."
Arturia lets her gaze fall from the young man whose anger almost flares enough to make the air shimmer around him before she replies, "You must be wary of them, John. These forces may have already been at work long before your original memories began to manifest. These are the Counter-Guardians of which I spoke."
John keeps his gaze set on her for another moment, his breathing agitated before he closes his eyes and calms himself with a long sigh.
So, he was currently being given a chance, not to save mankind, but to keep it from needing saving. He had fought, he had died, and he had been reborn into the past to do the illogical in an era of logic. These abilities were real... he could feel the awakened power ebbing underneath his skin like a restrained tempest just waiting for an outlet... but he knew that there would be those with equal if not greater power who would be resisting him in his quest to change the world. Thankfully, he would not be without allies... but how could he expect the people he once fought with in the past to be able to not only find each other, but mend themselves together as fighting units as they once were in time for whatever was coming? How could he know when it was coming in the first place?
How could he even know what was coming?
His mind wanders between two planes of consciousness, a single heartbeat resounding through his body to bring a flash of a memory to mind. Death. Darkness. Shadow. So many shadows... and a sudden revelation.
John opens his eyes to see Arturia with a dutiful smile nodding at him as if concurring with his internal musing, his face retaining its steadfast gaze with his reply, "Then there's no time to lose."
But walking forwards towards his car, John stops, his face softening as he turns to see that Arturia hasn't moved from her position and only watches him with a small smile.
"Aren't you... y'know, coming or something?"
At that, the lady's smile grows as she shakes her head, "I'm afraid not. My time left is fairly limited as my purpose has now been fulfilled. You see, I had to be sure..."
"Of what?" he asks quizzically, turning to face her completely from the distance between them as the first sounds of wind begin resurfacing and blowing between them while the remaining objects around hem stay frozen.
"My identity," Arturia adds, "Now that you understand your situation and I've confirmed my understanding of your renewed resolve, I've a bit of a confession to make. You may not know it, but I was unlocked the moment your Aura was first unlocked so long ago... or so long from now... I'm afraid references to time are terribly confusing at this point."
A raised brow over widened eyes from the knight.
"Arc, I am your Semblance. Personified, at least," she continues with a short chuckle as a bird is seen flying through the sky over them, "I've learned about you just as you've learned about me... and I learned early on that you tend to grasp unknown concepts much better when explained by, well..."
The lady looks down at herself before glancing at the dumbfounded young man with a hint of a mischievous smile, "Attractive women."
"So you're...?"
"You? Yes, in a very close sense. Both versions of you, old and new, waiting for the right moment to trigger your manifestation after realizing the world had heeded my contract and given us a second chance."
John gives the knight in front of him a once-over, the awkward moment settling in and causing each of them to blush a similar shade of pink before he finally clears his throat, "Then uh... where'd you get the idea of looking like that? Did I know a girl who looked like you once?"
"No, not at all," she replies with an amiable grin like someone eager to drop a punchline, "You see, I decided to take on the form of this woman from an old anime archetype you used to watch as a young child that has a few startling similarities to reality... I thought you might be able to relate to her at least on a subconscious level."
John merely stares at her for another moment before his eyes widen in realization and he facepalms himself. Hard.
"My internal self is so jacked up."
At that, Arturia laughs, the first fully blown laugh John has heard from her as she doubles over chortling in satisfaction with her well-played stunt. Finally straightening out, she wipes a tear from her eye before stating, "You only have yourself to blame. I'm the manifestation of your lifeforce, after all..."
She raises her hands placatingly, John's glare turning into one of mild surprise as he sees her slowly begin to disintegrate from the feet up.
"Ummm, fine. Just one last question. If you're my Semblance just helping me... empathize with my situation, I guess... and our ability included mimicking others' powers... who'd you learn to make this big ball of wibbly wobbly, timey, wimey stuff from?"
"Bounded circle, Arc," Arturia now shoots back with a deadpan of her own, "At least humor me in going along with my portrayal of my character before I disappear, yes?"
"Yeah, I noticed. You're definitely sticking to your role, down to the emotional exit and everything."
"Which you've now ruined."
"Well you're me... when have I not ruined an emotional moment?"
"...Verily stated," Arturia notes with a hand to her chin before glancing at him with a small smirk as vehicles begin slowly moving and horns are heard as if through water while the area around them begins to shimmer, "Though I must admit that I'm not quite sure from whom I picked up this particular ability yet. Like your memories, even a few of my own are still readjusting while your remanifestation is completed."
"So, will I ever see you again?" John now asks, his bemusement now morphed into mild grief at her departure.
Arturia smiles warmly at him before replying, "If you can understand your state when you first summoned me to the physical world, then you'll know how to do it again. But remember, the path ahead is yours to walk alone..."
John groans pitifully at the reminder, Arturia shaking her head as the rest of her arms and torso finally disintegrate, "Don't worry; like your shadow beside you, I'll always be around... Jaune..."
The lady's head finally disappears in shimmering wisps just as the area around the young man comes back to full speed, his successive sigh more of an impressed reaction than one of despair.
"Heh... she got her emotional exit after all."
BEEEEEEEEEEEEP!
"Hey! You again!? Watch where you're going, sheesh!"
John watches with a nonplussed expression as the same driver he had nearly swerved into that morning turns out to be the one who nearly hit him in the White Castle parking lot before shaking his head at the heavy-set man in the driver's seat who had ordered the sausage sandwich in the store.
"I could literally flip his car over with my mind. Nobody would know... nobody would know..."
The rest of the day was spent mostly like any other stay-home Saturday for John... minus the few hours he spent cross-legged on his bed staring at his hands while concentrating on making the glow come back like it had in his dreams. Or memories. It was still tough to distinguish. After all, assimilating 21 years of previous memories surely was no easy feat, so he could appreciate that Arturia said that they were coming gradually... he could only imagine how difficult it would be if they all came to him at once. It'd probably drive him insane.
Nevertheless, it was the way Ben found him when returning from work later that afternoon. Though the young man of Oriental descent knew John well enough to expect anything from him... he had to admit that the sudden teary-eyed hug he received upon entering the apartment from the blonde was startling to say the least. But after returning the embrace and amiably sharing a few comforting words, Ben retired to his own room to call Norah for their daily semi-mandatory hour-long phone call.
'Hey Ben...'
"Yeah?" the young roommate replied into the phone, tossing aside his work clothes and settling into his bed with his usual jade green t-shirt and white trousers.
'Is Johnny alright now? He seemed pretty wrecked this morning... you guys didn't get into a fight did you?'
"No, of course not," Ben replied with his ever-amiable tone to his best friend before quirking a brow at a strange noise through the line, "Um, Norah? What are you doing?"
'Uhhh, nothing, hehe~'
"Norahhh..."
'Okay okay,' the bubbly girl hedged through the phone, 'I may kinda sorta be loading this new potato gun I built right now, and it's awesome!'
Ben barely holds back a snicker, the incredulous smile growing on his face as he asks, "A what?"
'You know, a potato launcher! For the next time I meet a meanie or get rude customers!'
"Another story today, I take it?"
'Not really, just some jerk guy that keeps getting my name wrong when he asks me out on his receipts with hundred-dollar tips... I still got a copy here, ummm... here it is. Carson, Workester? Never noticed his last name before, it's weird.'
"No doubt," Ben drones, a little taken aback at the sudden pang of emotion in his chest at the notion of his best friend dating. Cursing John and his strange ideas, he continues flatly, "That last name. Isn't it spelled with a c after the first three letters?"
'Yeah.'
"Then it's pronounced Worcester, with a ch sound at the 'c'."
'Ohhh,' she drawls across the line, her path to understanding never failing to leave a smile on his face, 'You're smart, Benny! Hey, I had another idea...'
"Yes?"
'Ever consider getting a highlight before?'
"A-A what?" Ben stuttered, genuinely surprised by the inquiry even from his whimsically random friend.
'Yeah, something that matches your eyes! Y'know, something pink!'
The young man's brow furrowed as he replied, "Aside from the unorthodox color choice, even though I do like the color, my eyes aren't pink, Norah... they're dark brown."
A slight pause in the line.
'Oh yeah, huh. That's weird.'
"Me having brown eyes like every other person in my family?"
'Yeah... I mean no,' she replies quickly, catching herself in her thought process, 'Gah, I guess John's funk is starting to get me, too.'
"It's alright," he concedes with a warm chuckle, "Today I didn't even realize I began stashing knives in my chef coat sleeves at the restaurant."
'Haha! Y'know, I can actually see you making that work!"
"Really?" the calm young man asked with a small smirk before leaning back in his pillow with the thought, "Huh... for some reason, it doesn't feel too weird to me either..."
'Did you make any pancakes today?'
"No Norah, I did not. I work at the Black Lotus, remember? Different cuisine. Pancakes are just a Sunday thing that we do," Ben replied with the same smirk at his friend's spontaneous subject changes.
'Oh that's right,' she conceded as happily as ever, 'Well like I was saying, I think that green coat with the pink cuffs they give you to cook is really cool!'
He glanced over at the ornate green coat with black accents on the chair at his desk with a warm smile, silently agreeing with his friend about the golden thread embroidered item with pink cuffs he had added. Ben had long given up trying to convince others that his favorite color was actually magenta instead of pink, but the fact that the cuffs to his chef's coat were actually pink didn't help his argument.
Magenta was manly. They just didn't understand.
But Ben slowly realized tat he was just dragging out his thoughts to distract him from John's words earlier that day... and once again, they brought him back to the same question. Except this time, he could no longer find any reason to counter it.
"Hey Norah," he finally added, taking a deep breath as he finally decided to try it, "Next week, you wanna come over for dinner at the restaurant with me?"
'Like a you-and-me Noren night!? Oooooh YES!' she exclaimed happily, 'I love it when we eat those little potsticker thingies together!'
"Well... yes," Ben added unsurely, scratching the back of his head as a very rare blush spread across his cheeks, "But I mean this time we go... uh, together-together?"
'...'
Ben's ears rang with the subsequent squeal of joy which eventually came through the line, the rest of their hour to be spent organizing the date, time and outfit theme of their pending first date with a warm grin plastered on his face.
BEEP, BEEP, BEEP!
"Gah! Could you get any louder!?" John finally snaps as his eyes flash open the next morning with righteous fury at his iPhone and he shuts it off with a hard poke at the screen, "Stupid scroll..."
John suddenly pauses as he gets out of bed, turning his head slowly to face his cellular device before shaking it in frustration, "Mehhhhhh..."
Stepping out of the room, the young blonde grins at his roommate wearing his morning pink robe in the hall, making the groggy young man at the other end of it feel slightly uncomfortable until he suddenly squints his eyes even more at John... making him uncomfortable as well.
"Uh, everything okay, Ben?"
"Your eyes," he replies slowly, tilting his head a bit to the side, "They look different."
"Whaddaya mean?"
"They've always been blue, but now they seem... brighter. I'm not sure. Almost like a..."
"Cerulean?" John responds with a quirked brow, a muted excitement slowly rising within.
"Yeah," Ben replies lazily before giving a yawn. But pausing mid-yawn, he looks back at the blonde with a slightly surprised expression before adding, "Wait."
The young man's excitement grows, hoping that his roommate is finally coming to some sort of realization as to his identity as the stoic he once called brother, "What?"
"You're telling me you can distinguish a specific color like cerulean, but you can't remember that my color of preference is magenta?"
John deadpans at his companion, sighing as he crosses his arms and looks to the side, "Not a word I came up with on my own, okay?"
"Mehhhhh," Ben grunts as he walks across the blonde in the hallway into the bathroom with a dismissive wave at him, "Whatever, Jaune."
John freezes as Ben shuts the door behind him, about to knock on the door and clarify the name Ben had just used before the calm man's voice blares through the door, "The memorial is today, John! We gotta be ready to go soon."
He huffs in defeat before giving his disheartened reply, "Sure thing, man..."
An argument about John's failed recollection to pick up groceries, an expensive trip to Starbucks at John's expense, and a long drive to Providence, Rhode Island later, and the two friends arrive at the memorial location with the main crown of arrivals.
"Sheesh, I didn't know this many people would be making it today," John observes as he looks around at the mass of people and media that had gathered to the exhibit-like venue to commemorate Monty's death.
Ben nods before stating with a point, "It's really thanks to that guy over there that so much money was raised for the proceedings so soon. Beard and glasses with the tuxedo."
The young blonde looks over as he spots the man directing media traffic and answering questions on camera who's wearing a fairly spiffy tux with a strange belt buckle with what looks like a chicken and a pair of dentures engraved in the brass and the pair walks toward him. Stepping away from the camera flashes, the man approaches them with a somber smile before giving Ben a hug.
"Glad you could make it. Make yourselves at home inside and feel free to go anywhere you want. Security is pretty tight but they know who you are," and turning to John, he cocks his head to the side a bit before giving him a wry smirk at the blonde's expression and following exclamation.
"You're that guy from that machinima series!"
"Yes I am. And you remind me a lot of a guy I know. In any case, please enjoy the memorial; we've done all we could to commemorate Monty's accomplishments with us through the years."
With a grateful nod at the man who is promptly swarmed again by media, Ben leads John into the elegant venue by the Water Place Park. The two step inside and immediately marvel at the display of art and graphics presented in the buildings, ascertaining the music which they easily recognize was affiliated with Monty's work. John watches as Norah arrives an hour or so later in time for the processions and the words and sometimes-sad/sometimes-funny eulogies from Monty's close friends before the events continue, the unconquerably bubbly girl instantly magnetizing herself next to Ben's arm and taking his in hers before she leads him to a random art piece with a goofy grin. The blonde merely waves at the pair which Ben returns as Norah places her head on his shoulder and they turn the corner.
"Heh, she's a little more affectionate than usual," John observes with a teasing grin before taking a moment to admire a giant holographic rendering of a Warthog vehicle blasting through a CGI wall with guns blazing.
...A moment ruined by a sudden yelp which catches John's attention from behind, followed by the impressive explosion of a soda can right at his feet that ricochets upwards. Into his crotch.
"HOLY MOTHER...FATHER-SISTER-BROTHER-COUSIN! Aieeeee..."
"Ohmygosh I'm so sorry!" the young lady who had yelped apologizes profusely as she awkwardly scampers towards the downed figure in her heels.
Turning the groaning young man over as he continues to grip his package in pain, she frowns in indecision as to what do do next and merely gets on her knees and sits back on her heels next to the young man's head. Finally managing to open his eyes, John manages a brief glimpse at a young woman hovering over his head with a medium-length brown ponytail, its ends highlighted deep red if the glare from the nearby artwork wasn't playing tricks on his eyes. Her dress was also thick black lace over crimson fabric, and as he noticed her grunting in frustration while she tried to adjust parts of her dress that seemed out of place on her otherwise well-proportioned figure, he noted that by her fidgeting and the terrible way she'd kneeled next to him that she clearly wasn't used to wearing a dress.
"You... your eyes are grey?"
Suppressing a small eep of surprise, the young girl snaps her head to face him, stuttering a bit as she suddenly becomes acutely aware of her lightly mascara'd eyes and begins to chuckle nervously.
"U-Um... hehe, yeah. My mom was from like, Northern Europe or something, and some people actually get that up there. Uh, anyway, how are you feeling?"
Managing a small glare with the obvious response at the girl who clearly has as little experience talking to new people as he does, John merely lays back with a grunt until a much more balanced-sounding clattering of heels brings his attention to their blonde bombshell of an owner.
"Jeez, sis, what'd you do to this guy?" she muses to herself with slight amusement, kneeling down a bit in her incredibly striking strapless black colorblock dress with a yellow section in the middle before narrowing her deep blue eyes which almost look violet in the reflection of the environment with threatening undertones in her voice, "What did he do to you?"
Despite the elegant form-fitting dress, the young woman about John's age begins cracking her fingers when the younger girl practically falls forwards trying to keep her at bay, "No no! It was my fault! I dropped a can of soda and it exploded!"
"Pfft, you dropped soda and it exploded?" she asks with a clearly incredulous tone at the exasperated girl before taking a moment to survey the stains on John's shirt and globs of sugary beverage on the floor and wall around them, "Oh my god it actually exploded..."
"Who are you people?" John wheezes as the exertion causes a fresh wave of pain to shoot up his nads.
"Oh, um, right... I'm Ramona," the younger girl mentions nervously, smiling at the young man still on the ground before the flat stares from both blondes make her snap back into action, "Eheh... right, let's get you up. Little help here, Blaine?"
"Yeah, yeah," the older woman grunts before taking John under the armpits and hefting him up with surprising strength while Ramona brushes off any dust smudges on his suit, "Sheesh. Light as a feather. Someone give this guy a sandwich."
John is about to protest, but stops as he takes a good look at the seemingly unrelated sisters for the first time. The distant sounds of rain and thunder clap in his mind as an overlay of two young women wrought with despair stand in front of him, his breath quickening as he glances back and forth between the increasingly confused girls until he steps back and into a third girl.
"Hey! Watch where you're going!"
The annoyed voice comes out in a half shriek, half frustrated reprimand, and it causes John to whip around to see the disgruntled young woman a few inches shorter than him rubbing her impacted shoulder. Despite the injury, she still stands straight in her immaculate white slacks and blazer over an icy blue blouse that matches her eyes. Even John in his current state stumbles for a moment in admiring the girl who wears her dirty blonde hair in a side ponytail before holding his hands out placatingly.
"I... am so sorry."
"Just don't do it again," she huffs with restrained exasperation, seemingly about to continue as some glint of recognition passes her eyes when the loud voice of the blonde erupts over John's shoulder.
"Well what a surprise! Who knew Monty had actually met Iris Sneed-Perello in his time!" Blaine remarks as she strides forward next to a now bewildered John who recognizes the important persona as Ramona meekly shuffles up behind her sister.
"Wait," John notes, "Perello? As in, CEO of EURENCO, one of the world's fastest growing leaders in the ammunition propellant business?"
The young woman gives a small smile at the recognition, preening up a bit as she replies, "Correct. Marcos Perello is my father..."
"...Though I prefer my mother's name, Sneed," she adds with a complicated expression at the three youths across from her.
"Daddy issues much?" Blaine whispers to her sister before John corrects her.
"Step-father."
The three young women glance at the young man with raised brows until he shrugs, "I had to do a paper on the company in college. I was into the possible military applications of chemical and other forms of theoretical energy propellant when I was trying to get into the military... though I never did get enlisted..."
I'd be able to get in now, he almost wants to add but keeps himself in check as the taller blonde in the group shrugs as well.
"And who are you three supposed to be?" Iris asks, a particularly piqued point in her voice towards the youths as she crosses her arms in front of herself and stands with her weight shifted onto one leg.
"Jau- er, John Luna," the young man begins with a short chuckle, "Assistant counselor at Beacon High in Manhattan. I knew Monty through his brother."
"Ramona Shao," the girl between the blondes speaks up with a small wave, "Mechanical engineering and design student at Columbia U in New York City. Monty helped me get in on scholarship."
"Blaine Shao-Lynn," the most outgoing of the three mentions with a prideful - and noticeable - swell in her chest, causing the young man to look away to keep his thoughts clean, "'Mona's sister on the dad's side. Model. MMA trainer. Whatever pays the bills. Met Monty at a pretty rad afterparty at my favorite club in NYC."
"How'd you know Monty?" the young girl asks the fourth member of the group, evidently taking a step forward in initiating the dialogue.
The sure businesswoman suddenly doesn't look so sure, her solid gaze breaking and going to the large rendering by the group with a small pout, "Well, I never met him personally per se... but I was always fascinated with his work. I actually organized a board meeting a few floors above this one today so that I could visit as soon as I had the opportunity."
"Cool. Then we can all hang together!" Blaine then exclaims while happily throwing her arms out to the sides, her sister knowing her well enough to duck under the sudden motion. John, however, isn't so lucky.
THWAK!
"John!" Ramona squeaks in worry as the back of her sister's palm lands squarely on his face, "Are you okay!?"
"You really gotta stop asking that," he hedges as he reels back, his balance lost as he mumbles and falls, "Her fizts... feel almozt ezzzactly like- oof!"
John's cut off as something soft catches his fall, but even with the world spinning a bit around him, he can't really assume it's the floor judging by the fact that he's still somewhat upright. Turning himself around, he realizes that his face becomes more buried in an amazingly soft nook that seriously beats any pillow those Tempurpedic people could ever take a crack at... wait.
"-Gauntlets!?" he half mumbles into the soft warm space before pulling his head out and turning back to see Iris with her hand to her mouth in indignant shock, Ramona with her head cocked to the side cringing in awkwardness, and Blaine right next to her clearly trying and failing to keep from bursting out in raucous laughter. Slowly turning back to look up at his unsung savior, cerulean eyes meet hazel as the expression of the surprised, angry, confused and somewhat amused Blake refocuses in his blurry vision.
"Uh. I waz juz droppin in, heh... thanks fer the save?"
The silent girl in the sapphire mid-calf dress with a long slit along one leg lightly lifts the young man who had just had his face buried in the satin top half that held a see-through section across her upper torso before shaking her head at him with an incredulous smirk and small blush, "Wrong place, right time, I suppose."
"You still got that bow," John drawls a little more coherently as he stands straighter with a slight stumble, supporting himself on her forearms that she holds forwards to keep him balanced, "I remember your mom gave that to you when you were real little..."
Blake's jaw loosens a bit as she stares at him in curiosity before turning to the three girls with an apologetic smile at having disrupted their conversation, "I... I'm sorry about the interruption; he's an old friend of mine who tends to attract trouble."
"Pfft, I believe it," Blaine mutters under her breath.
Blake also narrows her eyes as the blonde for only the briefest of seconds before disregarding the strange sensation, "You three wouldn't mind if I borrowed him for a bit?"
Ramona looks to her sister and back at the pair before shrugging, Iris simply gives them a dismissive wave, and Blaine adds with a teasing grin, "Well, seeing that you didn't just beat him into next Thursday, the two of you clearly got a thing goin on. Go for it."
Brushing off the remark like a pro, Blake simply nods politely at the three very different girls before gently leading the slightly dizzy John away by the elbow.
"S-Sorry I fell on your boobs."
"Just," she replies sharply, a blush quickly flashing across her features as she shuts her eyes and quickly shakes her head to get her thoughts together before giving her slightly softer reply, "Don't mention it."
"Cool, cuz-"
"Ever."
John chuckles nervously as the young woman beside him lets go of his arm to adjust her dress and bow. The way she looked as the pair slowly passed by a few art pieces the late producer had created, the young man taking the wiser path and letting silence reign for a moment before the awkward feeling of their reintroduction had dissipated, John could only state was beautiful. There truly was nothing that could be added or taken away from her at that moment that could make her look any more lovely. Of course, she didn't know they had practically become an item in their past life, so John also wisely elected to keep those thoughts to himself.
But still...
"Even in a dress, you always did look like you were ready to spring into action, too. Always did that, even when I was sure we were completely safe."
"That," Blake notes without turning, causing the young man to quizzically stare at the giant poster of a Halo/Metroid crossover that Monty had created in his lifetime to search for whatever she might be referring to.
"Eh?"
"No, not that," she hedges as she lightly smacks him on the arm, causing him to turn and face the deadpanning girl, "You. You keep saying things about me that I just don't talk about with anyone else. Who are you?"
The young man bites his lip to bide for time, a myriad of ideas running through his mind as he tries to gather what he knows about her. Arturia knew she was important and that she was already manifesting. She had already shown some semblance of recognition already. If only there were a way to be sure...
"You... you don't remember?"
The girl keeps her gaze on him for a moment before slowly shaking her head, the blonde feeling his heart sinking into his stomach before she unexpectedly adds, "But I haven't been able to stop thinking about you since we met in Jersey."
John turns his gaze up at her in genuine surprise, causing the young woman to blush again and glance to the side in embarrassment.
"I mean... I'm positive I know you from somewhere, but I haven't been able to figure it out. I'm usually very good with faces."
"Maybe you have to consider every possibility," John finally replies with a small smile, the girl looking back at him with a neutral expression.
"Maybe," she echoes before looking out at the Water Place outside the balcony as dusk falls on the horizon and steps forward to the window. She turns back to beckon the young man, "Follow me. There's something I wanted to show you."
Once outside and exposed to the semi-crisp air of the northeastern state, the pair walk along the balcony until reaching a small walkway that overlooks a large stretch of river in front of them several stories down, the archaic architecture of the rust-colored buildings in the area making even the water reflect shades of murky crimson in the dimming light.
"It's beautiful here," John admits aloud as the pair lean over the railing and look over the small town that is slowly beginning to light up for the evening, "Kinda reminds me of Venice or something, I dunno... a place that isn't here, I guess."
"True... but that's not what I wanted to show you. Look down there."
John follows Blake's pointed finger towards the river itself until he sees a small fleet of black boats in men dressed completely in black, nearly indistinguishable from the dark waters around them, lighting a swarm of firelights all along the river in floating baskets underneath growing crowds to watch the spectacle.
"The Waterfire event," she explains calmly, "The combination of different elements - fire, wood, water, and air - working in unison, created to commemorate the passing of an old year and the herald of a new one. The hope of a better one."
He nods as the scent of aromatic wood reaches his nostrils, immediately becoming enthralled with the unique scene as evening falls and he watches the dancing flames over the water, "Yeah, it kinda makes sense, in a weird way. I never knew why, but ever since I was real little, fire always scared the crap out of me."
"Really."
"Figuratively speaking," John comments in an aside to the smug ravenette who currently sports a raised brow before looking back over the water, "I had this phobia that fire destroyed everything without mercy, never leaving anything behind... until one day I really thought about it. Fire doesn't destroy anything, I thought to myself; it just changes one thing to another. So eventually, I started looking at fire like a second chance, a way to start over and... I dunno... make things right. This makes me think of that."
"Most people might see a world in unending flame," Blake replies dryly.
Wincing away the brief flutter of recognition, John continues, "Well I see a promise. Like you said, a hope for a better year... and a promise for a better future."
"Hmph. Promises are a fickle thing," Blake retorts flatly, the two of them still watching as yet more lights are lit and dance along the walls of the buildings and riverbank, "They're only vain words meant to instill false hope... everywhere you look, people promise justice, people promise equality, but nowhere in the world do you see it the least than where people promise it the most. Promise only instills words... True hope instills action."
"Yeah, we do seem to have a lot of those promises around today..."
"Then there you go," Blake concludes sullenly, glancing at the entranced blonde still watching the spectacle beside her, satisfied with the dominance of her point... until he continues.
"Most promises, at least," he begins with a shrug, "But lately, I learned that there are some promises so strong that they instill both word and action, spreading across time and space if need be until it's been fulfilled. And I think it has something to do with understanding why you have to do it, even if it doesn't make sense; understanding who you have to keep it for, even when there isn't hope. It could take a moment, it could take a lifetime... but if you're willing to wait... it'll come true."
A brief pause before Blake gives a soft reply.
"Sounds like a promise that's impossible to keep to me. I wouldn't even know what to tell someone who might have to wait so long to see it fulfilled..."
"Easy," the young man quips without missing a beat, a calm smile at the landscape in front of him, "Don't wait up."
I love you, too... Blake. Don't wait up...
Slowly... deliberately... John's smile fades as his view of the wide river is momentarily replaced by a flash of a world lit in rain and drenched in flame, taking a step back and turning to see the young woman equally taken aback by his words with her gaze riveted on his, her eyes already beginning to water with a reluctant incredulity.
"That's... it's, im... possible..."
Catching wind of her meaning, John can only manage a sloppy shrug with a sting in his own eyes before eking out, "An Arc always keeps his word, heh..."
At that moment, John is thrown back by what feels like a small explosion going off in front of him, the lines between the real world and his memories blurring as he writhes on top of the balcony until the sudden appearance of a third voice begins to anchor him to what's truly real.
"What's wrong with this guy? He spazzing out or something?"
John sees a dark figure approach Blake on the balcony with his back to the young man, unable to do anything as he clutches his throbbing head for dear life.
"You're here sooner than planned," Blake's voice comes through strained and surprised, "What happened?"
"Looks like we got our intel sooner than expected. The EURENCO board meeting here will be presenting the experimental propellant we'd heard of... but the package is much more difficult to reach than we anticipated," John sees the man in the black tuxedo turn slightly, his auburn hair glinting in the firelight along with his white-frame shades with pearlescent red lenses as he gives her a conclusive nod, "Looks like we're going to be doing this the hard way."
Slightly caught off guard by the news, she merely raises a brow before droning, "Don't be so dramatic..."
"Well we're leaving now."
But glancing at John and back at the man with an almost incredulous expression at the obvious situation, she counters with an almost pleading tone in her voice, "But Adan..."
"But what?" he hisses, glancing at the pained youth on the ground and back at Blake, "Wait around for this kid to get help? There are people all over the place, someone's bound to come out on the balcony soon enough. It's not our fault he chose to have a panic attack now. Blake, a few floors above us is the last piece of the puzzle, the key to getting the justice we've fought for for so long! We need you in on this. All of you. Are you with me or not?"
Blake's mouth hangs open as if to say something but with no words coming out as she glances back and forth between the two men in front of her, one standing and one on the floor. Shutting her eyes, she trembles before giving her quiet reply.
"As long as no one gets hurt. Let's make it quick..."
With that, the two infiltrators-to-be leave the balcony, John watching Blake spare him a final glance before leaving behind a single tear that falls to the floor in front of him. The after-effects of whatever had just happened still tearing through his mind as he realized that several of his previous life's memories were flooding in all at once, John could only groan in pain as he haggardly reached for the single wet spot on the balcony before blacking out.
Jaune Arc. Lie Ren. Pyrrha Nikos. Nora Valkyrie. The four of you retrieved the white rook pieces. From this day forward, you will work together as Team JNPR...
JNPR? Just what exactly is going on here...?
The third unfamiliar voice causes the young man's eyes to flutter open, his first sensation being the fact that he's still laid out on the balcony and that his head is being cradled on something incredibly warm and soft. Silk? John turns up and immediately shoots his eyes open at the familiar shade of crimson that's splayed across his vision.
"J-Juniper?"
"Told you he'd remember you~"
"Norah."
"My bad."
John glances at Ben and Norah respectively before glancing back up at the young woman in question, his eyes suddenly going much wider as he realized that his head is perfectly perched on her legs over the balcony floor.
"Aaand I think I can sit up now!" John shouts as he jerks up to a seated position, running a hand through his hair as the young athlete in a striking crimson silk dress repositions herself with a small blush.
"I-I apologize. We found you out here a few minutes ago and I figured... I had hoped you and I would become reacquainted under better circumstances..."
"Yeah, me too," John admits with a slight groan as he reaches up to rub his temples with eyes screwed shut, "Ohh... this is gonna make for a special kind of hangover..."
"John," Ben begins after the previous three youths trade unsure glances, "What exactly happened?"
"Well-"
RUMBLERUMBLERUMBLE...
And just like that, the young man's words are cut off by the sudden jolting of the entire building which causes the four friends outside on the balcony to lose their balance. Juniper is the first to look up and point at the growing fires erupting from the windows below them.
"Look, something up there!"
"We gotta warn people," Ben adds decisively before turning to his best friend, "Norah. Help John up and let's get people out of here."
"No problem, Benny!" the bubbly young woman states before practically hefting up John into bridal position in a single motion.
"Norah!"
"Tee-hee~ My bad!"
Putting the dizzied blonde down at the behest of her flustered best friend, Norah slings John's arm around her shoulder ant takes him into the building with Ben and Juniper... only to find that things aren't looking very good inside. Embers are already making their way down vents and exposed ducts, lighting objects on fire as sparks, or what at least look like sparks, are causing all manner of disarray with the electrical equipment. However, Norah suddenly stops in place with a look in her eyes towards the IN CASE OF EMERGENCY tools which Ben would've immediately rebuked had he seen it through the thickening smoke.
"Hey, Pyr. Mind holdin' this for me? I think I just found something realllly important!"
"U-Um, you mean John?" Juniper asks with some uncertainty before having the young man thrust onto her awkwardly, his head landing right between her more ample supple bits to which he incoherently mumbles something along the lines of Why duz this keep herpenin to me...
"John! I-I'm sorry!" she states with a crimson blush as she readjusts the young man to have him supported by her side and begins making her way towards Ben who stands perplexed by an emergency blast door just inside the outer atrium.
"What's wrong?" she states with growing concern as she sees him staring at the handles of the doors which are clearly fuming, "You think there was a flash fire on the other side?"
"No... quite the opposite," the stoic young man replies enigmatically as he unexpectedly reached forward to wipe condensation off the iron handles, "This door has not been burned... it was frozen. The locks wont budge."
As the two teens look around for any other ways through the building, each are completely taken aback when the overly-ecstatic form of Norah appears between them. With an absurdly large sledgehammer.
"GANGWAY!~ I got a hammer and I ain't afraid to use it!"
And without another word, she begins smashing through the frosted doors with slightly disturbing laughter until breaking through, the three teens making their way into the main auditorium where masses of people are still trying to make their way out.
"John? John! Hey, you guys, over here!"
Ben and Juniper peer through the smoke to see a young lady hopping in place across the room by the doorway where people are being ushered out, her awkward heels long chucked away.
"Hey guys, it's Ramona Flowers or something," John mumbles from Juniper's shoulder, "Let's go see what she has to say..."
"Thank goodness everyone's practically evacuated," Ben states as the group reaches her at the back of the mass that are about to exit the main entrance.
"Yeah, that should be everyone. A few people are upstairs trying to see if anyone is still up there, but that should be about it."
But then, a sudden bulge in the mass of bodies pushing forward separates at the repeated shouts of a particularly disparate young woman.
"Out of my way! Out of my way, I said! Oof!"
And in the middle of their group suddenly bursts a fairly disheveled Iris Sneed who falls on her rear, her once immaculate garb marred with soot and traces of blood grabbing everyone's attention as Ramona states in surprise, "Iris? What are you doing, we cant stay here any longer!"
"No!" the business woman retorts as she stubbornly gets to her feet and begins looking for the nearest staircase, "None of the board members made it out! I must see to it that they escape safely-"
BOOOM!
Without warning, the staircase she was about to step into roars with a fireball of flame, knocking Iris on her back as Ramona runs screaming towards the staircase as well.
"NO! Blaine!"
But as she gets to heavily smoking passageway, a coughing young blonde steps out, waving away the smoke around her, "Jeez, sis... not so loud..."
Ben and Norah run to help up the young woman while Ramona races much faster than anyone present could've figured possible to tackle her sister in a hug before Iris asks once standing, "And everyone else? Could they make it out?"
Blaine takes a long somber look at the businesswoman before slowly shaking her head, "Sorry... things were pretty much toast once we got up there. No one made it - not the bigwigs, not the guys that went with me... I don't even know how I was able to make it, not after that last fireball at least..."
Now the last seven people on the first floor, a sudden metallic groaning sound catches their attention from above as the fire begins rolling across the ceiling. Spurred into action by the bulge he sees growing in the ceiling, John solidifies his stance and throws Juniper across to Blaine and Ramona before sprinting forward, "Guys look out!"
eeeee-CRASH!
Sliding to dodge falling debris, John skids past Iris, Ben and Norah to come up under a large support beam over the entrance that brings a large part of the ceiling with it to stop it from flattening the whole group.
Ben's eyes widen at his friend who holds up the weighty mass of burning debris over him with a loud grunt of effort, "John... how are you..."
"Just get back from the entryway! All of you! This whole area is going down!"
Quickly moving back, the six youths watch the blue-eyed blonde push up the entire mass of building for an impossible few inches with a loud yell before rolling forwards and out of the way as the section of ceiling finally does down beside him. Ben and Juniper pull him back the rest of the way with the group as they try to keep him conscious.
"That was our only exit," Iris begins with heavy breaths amid the smoke, barely containing the growing helplessness in it.
"What in the world was that, John!?" Ben yells as he pats the fading young man's cheek to keep him awake.
"Maybe it's the smoke in my eyes," Blaine adds from a distance, "but from here, it almost looked like Mister Atlas there was glo-"
Blaine's statement is cut short by the sounds of windows breaking in the distance, followed by a shadow that enters the room and reveals itself to be a certain hazel-eyed young woman in a catsuit and bow.
"Come with me if you want to live."
John slowly turns to face her in the intense moment that follows, raising a brow before he finally replies, "Did you really just say that?"
Blake merely catches herself before shutting her eyes with a sharp sigh, "I can't believe I just said that."
The young man gets up slowly as Ben and Juniper help him up, each of them glancing in question at the eighth member of the group and her interesting garb consisting of leather leggings in short heels, a sleeveless leather top, and frayed fingerless gloves.
"Just tell us you have a way out of here..."
"Out the back, through a busted window, and around the side of the building by the waterway. Anyone have accessible transportation? I take it no one here had the chance to recover their car keys..."
"I do," Iris states sullenly, much to the group's relief, "the board members came in two vehicles coded to our fingerprints. I can get us into each of them."
"And I can take us to my place," Blaine adds, "It's by Central Park in NYC; it's a long way, but it'll be enough to keep us all holed up for the night."
"The let's go before any more of this place goes down," Ramona states, waving to the rest to follow her as she and Blake begin heading through the smoke-filled room. John, regaining his bearings, trots forward to pass Ben who is trying - and ultimately failing - to get Norah to ditch the sledgehammer as he catches up to Blake.
"What happened to you?" he asks in a hushed whisper, eyeing the evident wardrobe change as the group closes in to the exit that the young woman had created.
"None of this was supposed to happen," she explains quickly as they reach the opening, the remaining youths in tow, "I'll explain more when it's safe."
John merely narrows his eyes at her, cerulean meeting a stronger amber that he realized wasn't there before as he replies, "I have this gut feeling telling me that you know as well as I do that safe is a word we won't be able to use anymore for a loooong time..."
And without another word, the eight acquaintances make their way out into the flaming night.
A/N: Chapter two of the two-shot. Not much more to say other than how much fun it was to incorporate elements of a certain fandom which may or may not be a precursor to a future, and possibly final, new story I add to this site. Hehe.
I'm gonna spread myself too thin with all these new stories at every turn. Or hiatus.
Hope you enjoyed! Remember, Fave, Follow, and Review to show your support! I'll be back to continue it in the future - until then, take care...
And Happy Reading!
