What colorful butterfly will fly next?

[waterfell]

Cold fog swirls, and makes the darkness even deeper, shrouding everything in a damp, cloying mist. There's a smell of ash in the air. To the side, a single golden pin impales a blue butterfly with black markings, just above the thorax. It struggles with a vain flurry of its tired wings, but for all the writhing desperation, there is little life left in the spasming body. It rests weakly between fits of frantic activity.

Beneath the butterfly, a picture of a blue-haired girl in a tiara and sailor-style collar has been clearly marked 'Mercury'. Nearby, similar displays bear the names of other planets. In some, the butterfly's wings have been pulled off or its body has been singed and scorched or bent to sickening angles; others are fresh and empty, but labeled in anticipation. They stretch into the distance as far as the eye can see in all directions.

Comments

[sixthsefira]

[It's the sight of the butterfly pinned while still alive which catches and holds her attention most. The setting itself sickeningly reminds her of another place she's loathe to ever visit again, and of the man who oversees it. While it may be too late to save the butterfly, at least it could die without that pin through its body. Thus she pulls it out with care.]

No one deserves to die trapped like that.

sorry for the waffling. XD

[waterfell]

[As soon as the pin is drawn out, the butterfly falls to the ground. The hole left behind is still a clearly grave wound, but at least the careful handling has kept it from worsening in the process. The creature's legs kick at the air in its pain, before the twitching gradually subsides to something calmer.

It's form shifts, and the butterfly shimmers and fades to reveal the body of the very same girl on the label: Mercury. Her uniform is torn and battered and burned, and an ugly hole at her chest signifies the wound from the pin. She stays laying on her side, hands clutched tightly close to her. She seems disoriented at first.]

You helped me?

[sixthsefira]

[That had been unexpected to say the least. Perhaps the butterfly had been a metaphor, similar to the birds in her own dreams. She only briefly considered the ugly wound before using the restore materia slotted within her armlet, seeking to use its healing magic on the girl's injuries.]

Yes.

[waterfell]

[The healing magic knits together some of the torn flesh, but the uniform remains in tatters, and the hole remains where it is, a gaping, ugly sign of her experience. How she's still speaking, even with difficulty, is a mystery, and her words come out broken and shaky. She doesn't try to move yet.]

I thought I'd be left there. I thought maybe it was my punishment.

[hero_complexed]

[ This is not something Harry can stand to see. The sight of torture is something that he's had burned somewhere in his memory and watching the poor butterfly struggle just makes him feel sick. He's not sure if taking the pin out would instantly kill it or not but he knows that he doesn't want to see it suffering so much. ]

[ Slowly, he approaches the poor creature and pulls the pin out with a sharp jerk, briefly wondering if he knew any healing spells. Hermione probably would. ]

[waterfell]

[Without the pin, the butterfly falls to what passes for the ground. Its legs kick in pain and if only it could scream, it surely would. The thrashing subsides after a long moment, quieted to a slow, labored waving of a bent antenna.

In that moment, the creature shimmers, and reverts to form of the label: Mercury. Her uniform is tattered and torn and burned, and the wound from the pin has become an ugly, sickening hole at her chest. She chokes on the words she tries to speak at first.]

[hero_complexed]

[ Harry stares in some level of disbelief and looks around for something to help- maybe a potion or-or something! ]

C-can you hear me?

[waterfell]

[Someone is speaking to her. The voice is distant to her own ears, and she has to realize it's actually coming from much nearer. She doesn't try to move yet, but the words come - slowly, still slightly garbled, but they come.]

I hear you.

[Wait. She does hear him, and more, she knows that voice.]

Harry Potter?

[one_one_se7en]

The Spartan keeps his eyes on his reticule and radar as he moves amidst the fog... Oddly, many glows come through it. Not by the glowing silhouettes of his HUD, but by Yuuko's gift. One of them is not so much of a glow, but a darkening.

The area around that butterfly darkens in his eyes. He feels a very familiar spectral presence. And the disturbingly familiar image below it.

Ami. As he turns, he sees many, many more spectral auras in all of the wounded butterflies. Countless senshi and countless planets consumed. By Galaxia.

He walks toward the one of Mercury, and removes the pin. He will have to remove the rest as well, but her... She is important.

[waterfell]

As soon as the pin is removed, the husk of butterfly falls to what must be taken for the ground. Its movements, still weak, are barely discernible at all.

Then it changes. The butterfly fades to the form of the picture: Mercury. She lays on her side, uniform as tattered and torn and ragged as the butterfly had seemed, and moving just as little.

She seems disoriented, and as she tries to gasp out a breath, she winces with the pain instead, and falls back to inactivity. Only one word is croaked out.]

John?

[one_one_se7en]

"I'm here to take you back."

He's spoken those words before to someone like her. The Spartan leans down to her, to begin treating the wound in several procedures he's done so many times he doesn't even think of them. One of them extracting the biofoam from his suit -- The means to both sterilize and seal the wound with an expansive healing antiseptic foam.

"What did this?"

[waterfell]

Many of the wounds are serious, but treatable. The wound at her chest, however, where the pin had been, stays as a hole that simply refuses to disappear, no matter what.

Take her back? Across the galaxy... no; she isn't sure she can even go there, now.

What did it? As though surprised by it, Mercury suddenly moves just her head, to look down at the prominent wound. That's right... She was injured. Badly.

Killed?

"A battle." The words are the easiest summary, and the fewest she can speak while still trying to explain.

[toxicwillpower]

The line between madness and genius were often thin and fragile. It was a known fact that boredom corrupted them both. It was that very same boredom that drew Kadaj here. He opened his eyes at the end of his journey—a blind walk into nothingness. In the middle of it all was an impaled a butterfly. Imprisoned. Destined to torture by its mere existence.

The corner of Kadaj’s mouth twitched upwards.

“It serves you right.” He spoke aloud to the pathetic insect. “You’re in service to the planet. Its torment was bound to get you eventually.” The remnant got closer for a better inspection. Blue and black wings, interesting design. “You know,” he crouched to study it and realized it was still alive, “the more you struggle the quicker you’ll die.” No truer words had been spoken. “I could save you,” he suggested. A moment’s pause passed and then a soft chuckle escaped. “But you’ll have to give me a reason to.”

[waterfell]

There was nothing to show fear but the weak rubbing of the butterfly's first two legs. All around them, countless others in the same situation were already still and silent in the death Kadaj had warned her of. She would not make the mistake of hoping for different.

But in the throes of pain, there was nothing to do but struggle - and suffer. Even as the butterfly forced itself to lay still and quiet, perhaps in the hope he'd assume it was already dead and pass by, the sharp tearing only felt more and more powerful, as though it threatened to rip her entirely in two.

[toxicwillpower]

“I’m talking to you.” He flicked the butterfly with his thumb and forefinger. Let it squirm, if it could. Let it suffer. “Aren’t you listening? I offered you freedom!” Did he really expect an answer? No. But he enjoyed torturing his prisoners—even if they were nothing but more than teeny insects.

“I have ways of making you talk,” Kadaj threatened. He pressed his finger down on one of the wings. “As one of the planet’s creatures, you should be thankful for this opportunity.” He began rubbing off the delicate texture on the wing, crippling it permanently.

[waterfell]

If it could scream, it would have come right then. The pain shot through the body - still capable of feeling the full spectrum of that pain, no matter how otherwise insensible it might seem - and the helpless spasms of the wings started all over again.

Useless. The wing barely responded to the butterfly's attempts to move it. It would never fly again, even if a miracle made it survive to leave this place.

What was there to be thankful for in this?

[mooneternal]

What is this place? Is it another dream? It's so strange... but somehow, Usagi finds herself being drawn to the butterflies. There's an ache in her chest as she sees that some of them have been ripped a part, torn to pieces... even if they're insects it's not like they deserved a cruel fate like this!

But -- as her eyes finally drift down to the placards... her hands immediately flutter up towards her mouth, as she stands there locked in a silent scream. "N-no way!"

[waterfell]

The scream does nothing to take away the sights in front of Usagi. Though a few, like the blue one, still struggle feebly, most are already completely still and quiet, lending the whole area its unnatural hush.

All that moves on the blue butterfly are her forelegs now; they wave weakly in the final throes of her efforts to free herself, but it only lets the pin impale her further.

[mooneternal]

A movement? Usagi seems to rush towards the blue butterfly's case, her eyes wide. Sure enough, 'Mercury' is displayed almost proudly just in front of it. "It's alive?!" that's enough to get her to react, even in her shocked state. Her hands, shaking, reach forward to pull the pins from their position, her heart racing.

[gardeningaia]

Just like others, Aerith's attention is captured most by the struggling butterfly. The picture underneath does catch her attention, her frown twisting with sadness--how many friends will have lives cut short? But then her attention returns to the butterfly, fingers nearing the pin.

"I'm sorry. This isn't the way to remember anyone," she says. Her fingers are trembling a bit, what if she makes it hurt worse pulling it out? Should she go draw it slow? But no, that'll hurt worse... In the next moment she steels herself and draws the pin out quickly and smoothly, readying a healing spell for the small and broken (but beautiful) life.

[waterfell]

It wasn't to remember them. It was for cruelty's sake alone. She knows, now, that there are terrifying people in the galaxy she inhabits, for all her playacting at being so cold and self-contained.

As soon as the pin is pulled out, nothing is left to hold the butterfly in place, and its body falls to what makes up the ground. It topples to one side and, a moment later, the creature shimmers and grows to reveal Mercury, from the picture label, in the same pose, laying on her side. The uniform is as tattered as the wings had been, and where the pin was, there is still a sickening hole, at her chest.

Mercury struggles for breath for several seconds before she can make herself speak.

"You came to help me?"

[gardeningaia]

"Mercury?!" The question goes unheard in Aerith's alarm, only because in those seconds Aerith's mind focuses on other things things, like trying to use her healing on the hole. The effort causes her to kneel at the other woman's side as she focuses, even though it's all in vain. "What happened?"

[findmyownreason]

It's a little too familiar. Not the butterflies and the pins but the sense of science, the cold, unfeeling destruction and dissection. The symbolism isn't entirely lost on Cloud either. Girls and butterflies. A picture or two he actually recognizes and others he can guess at. Not sure that it will do any good but unwilling to not try anymore, he reaches out with surprisingly delicacy to try to pull the pin from the butterfly without doing even more damage.

[waterfell]

With the pin pulled out, the butterfly unceremoniously hits the ground, with none of the grace that might be expected of such a delicate creature; it's barely more than an empty husk right now. Its form shimmers a familiar blue, and Mercury herself takes its place, laying in the same position. Her chest barely moves with shallow breaths, and there is still an ugly hole at her chest, where the wound from the pin had been.

Her voice is raspy and hoarse with the effort of making it work at all, nearly a miracle. "Onii-san...?"

He came.

[findmyownreason]

Of course he came. And, again, he's late. Much too late. But he's on a knee next to her, one arm going under her so he can lift her and hold her protectively, trying not to jar her or that gaping wound. Trying not to jar the panic he feels building in his own chest loose either. He remember his waking dream.

"I'm here."