Title: Snow
Theme: #7; Snow falling on corpses.
Character/Series: Argilla/Digital Devil Saga: Avatar Tuner
Rating: PG-ish Notes: This theme was hard to write, due to the fact that all it ever does in the Junkyard is rain. GAH. A lot of Argilla's pieces will probably center around Jinana, and rightfully so. This piece also features Gale, another Embryon member. Written for the 52flavours challenge on Livejournal.
Disclaimer: Don't own, never will, events did not happen, so on.

It was always raining in the Junkyard. Rain, rain, rain. The Rain of the Dead they called it, after the old belief of the dead rising into the clouds, falling back as this cold, dreadful rain. It was unnerving, to think of all who had died falling down on someone walking. To think of Jinana falling down around her, onto her, soaking her hair...

Argilla shook her head, slowly, and sighed. A hand lifted, tucking a strand of rain-soaked lavender hair behind one ear as she moved down the stairs, into the barracks. It was with a heavy sigh that she settled herself in the main room of Muladhara. A "war room" of sorts, she supposed, it was where Embryon did their most tactical work. It was where they planned, and plotted, and decided what to do. It was empty for now; Serph had taken Heat and Cielo aside, into one of the abandoned rooms, for some reason. Gale was most likely out in the rain somewhere, divising his plan. And so, Argilla was left alone with her thoughts.

Emotion? What was that? What were these new feelings...it made her head hurt to think about, and with a soft little noise, she lifted her hand to rub her temple. Lost in her thoughts, she didn't hear the door slip open, didn't feel the presence in the room until he spoke.

"Argilla?" A soft voice, soft and cold. Cutting. Gale. "Do you require assistance?"

She could do naught but shake her head, and sigh a moment, leaning against the wall. "No," was her simple reply. Gale simply shrugged, resting his hands on the table that took up the center of the room.

"Gale...did you ever wonder why it never snows?" she asked, after a long moment, a long moment entirely of silence. The green haired man paused, glancing over at her with a mild look of confusion.

"What is...snow?" he asked, turning to lean against the table. Argilla shrugged her shoulders, and looked off into the distance, that faraway look in her eyes so familiar now.

"I don't know. It was just a thought, floating in my mind...It's like the rain, I think, except...softer. Prettier."

Silence hung in the air again, as it often did, the sound of rain faint and far away, drown out by the footsteps of the guards in the hallway. Gale pushed off from the table, gliding to the doorway once more.

"I do not comprehend this...snow...idea. However, if it is like the Rain of the Dead...it does not matter. The Rain of the Dead falls constantly, on living and on more dead." He shook his head a little. "The rain falls on the dead, and the dead rise again to become the rain. I'd imagine if it were to...snow...it would just be--"

"Snow falling on corpses." Argilla interrupted him quietly, nodded and closing her eyes. "Morbidly beautiful."

A silent nod, and Gale was gone once more. The rain continued to pour, and Argilla was left thinking of snow sparkling in the midst of a battlefield. Much too beautiful a sight for the Junkyard...

"Perhaps it snows in Nirvana."