#xestheim

outofchara; Buckle up, anon, because I’m about to take your ass to town on the biggest angst train you will ever experience. Choo choo, mother fucker.

The Silver Phantom AU was created by Hope and yours truly, to be the most heart breaking au verse that could ever exist (copyrighted to us). It is the to be mother-load that is angst. To keep it short and simple for you, the basis of the AU is this:

After the events of Lightning Returns, instead of rejoining the rest of the group and being reborn into the New World, Lightning does become the new Goddess of Death and then resides in Valhalla. After spending all his life searching for Lightning, and after being horrifically tortured by Bhuni using the rose-haired phantom (which is canon, in case some people have forgotten), Hope decides that he doesn’t want to be reborn and live the rest of his life without Lightning, and chooses to go with her into Valhalla. His decision came easy to him, due to the fact he heard Lightning cry out in the darkness at the end of LR, when she said that she didn’t want to be alone. And, therefore, he decided to stay with her during her newfound title.

Now, that doesn’t sound so bad, right? WRONG. No one gets to have a happy ending with us. As time continues on in outside of the realm of death, Lightning and Hope spend their days together in the timeless realm, but eventually, Lightning begins to change into becoming the real goddess of death; the goddess Valhalla really needs.

Now as it was previously discussed in Lightning Returns, Lightning struggles to feel anything, (she struggles with her humanity) as not only was it her doing, but partly a side effect to her becoming on-par with a God herself, and we all know, God’s can’t feel human emotion. So as the years eventually continue on, Lightning loses parts of herself, and forgets what it means to be human. In turn, Hope also no longer appears to be in a human form, but instead takes the appearance of a silver-haired phantom. As Lightning’s humanity is stripped away, and she forgets human emotions, in turn, she forgets herself, Serah and ultimately, Hope.

When she first started experiencing amnesia, (which includes beautifully written moments of her breaking down) Hope and her made a promise that they would always remind each other of who they were, and who they were to one another, but as time moved forward, they eventually forgot why they were reminding one another of such things, and as an extension, what these things were.

The real sad part is the fact that Hope had to watch Lightning lose herself first. He watched, helplessly, as Lightning changed from a human, to a Goddess. He watched her forget herself, her life, Serah and him. He witnessed her forget that she loved him and that she use to be human herself. Lightning became so lifeless that she would spend (what would be years outside the realm of chaos) on her throne, almost turning to crystal, only moving when she had to continue the rebirthing of the cycle of life. But Hope never once left her side. 

Then, slowly, Hope forgot himself too. The two stayed in each others vicinity, but never understanding why or knowing who they were. The silver phantom only knew that he had always been present to the Goddess, having never been reborn, but not understanding why. He would drift aimlessly throughout Valhalla, but not going far from the Goddess. And all the Goddess knew was that a silver phantom seemed to haunt her, never leaving her side. 

And so, essentially, for the better part of eternity, they stayed like that.

And, from the time Lightning and Hope reside in Valhalla, to the amnesia happening and Lightning becoming a complete Goddess, it’s about 200 years in Valhalla, which is close to 1000 years over the course of time outside of Valhalla.

                             hopexlight playlist  →  listen here  ← for xestheim

i. iris - kina grannis / ii. kiss me - ed sheeran / iii. carry you - novo amor / iv. start of time - gabrielle aplin / v. pieces - red / vi. please don’t say you love me - gabrielle aplin / vii. the blowers daughter - damien rice / viii. fix you - coldplay / ix. wake - brightwood / x. i like me better - lauv / xi. when i look at you - miley cyrus / xii. boats and birds - gregory and the hawk / xiii. follow me - petit biscuit / xiv. collide - howie day / xv. superhero - lauv. / xvi. glowing - the script / xvii. good to you - marianas trench / xviii. say you won’t go - james arthur.

one word prompts ↳ goodbye: my muse kissing and/or hugging your muse goodbye.

   The rosette watched through the gated windows, patiently abiding until the silverette drifted off to slumber, afore her own pallid shutters closed; allowing her mind to drift into nothingness, where she could connect to his. Before long, familiar sensations began to flood their way into her consciousness as she stepped into his dream; their two minds becoming one. 

   She observed from afar for a moment, as the silverette sat perched on an overhanging road; blue and white trees decorating their ambience–the whitewoods just as she–or in this case, he–remembered. Without the pressing threat of being tracked by PSYCOM, or the consistent danger of feral beasts, the Gapra Whitewoods were a breathtaking sight to behold, and something to be enjoyed. At least somewhere within both their hardships, beauty and solace could still be savored. Yet of all the places his mind could wander, why here?

   I think I’m doing the right thing, his voice called out–to her, it was unclear–as armoured boots clapped against the pavement with every step she took towards him, closing the distance between them. It were as if he were waiting for her–expecting her, almost. But how do I know if you’re not here?

   The valkyrie’s gander drifted from the scenery to rest on his frame, sorrow swirling in her azure hue, hearkening the doubt in his question. 

   I want to make the world better, so something like the purge never happens again…I want to make a difference. The determination in his words, overshadowed his doubt, but the soldier knew he lacked valor. Hope had come so far in their time together–even during their time in the whitewoods. Albeit, he still had a ways to go. 

   Before she could speak, to offer comfort and advice, Hope’s voice broke their silence. I want to find you, Light.

   Grief, audible in his speech, cast a heavy weight to fall on her shoulders. I’ll always protect you, that is what she had said. I’ll never leave you. Did he know, that despite being worlds apart, she still watched over him–protecting him where she could. Did he trust that she would always watch the rear, like she had vowed to do, back when they first met, right here? If only she could make him understand. Yet, despite residing in a timeless realm, time always seemed to be running out. 

   An appendage outstretched to rest upon his shoulder, whilst Lightning closed the remaining distance between them, sensing that her time with him were nearing its end. Pallid digits combed silver locks away, exposing skin, as champagne brims pressed themselves against his forehead, ever so gently. A barely audible gasp were hearkened at the sense of her touch, yet Hope didn’t protest this kiss. Anguish began to rise within her heart, as she knew little she could say or do would remedy her lack of presence in his life. It were up to him now to find hope. To find his valor.

   “You’re doing the right thing, Hope.” She breathed softly, breaking her lips connection to his skin as she rose to her feet. “You’re on the right path.”

   It were unclear if he would ever realise she were still alive, in another realm, or if he would ever have the means to find her. But shaping the future? She had no doubt that he was more than capable of achieving such greatness.

   As the dream began to fade, and their consciousness began to split as she returned to Valhalla, one last reply was able to be heard, afore they parted completely; It’s not a question of can or can’t.

outofchara; So I’m just gonna put this out there that one of the reasons I loved this blog and interactions so much (other than the fact that Lightning is my spirit) was because of my interactions with Aerith (aeristheancient) and Hope (xestheim). There was also my interactions with Serah (vitriss) and a few Cloud’s that have ALL gone inactive. You guys are actually my biggest inspirations and I’m so happy that I’m able to write a bit with you guys again, even though with Hope its just on discord and through ask box memes, I can not put it into words how much joy it brings me. I also hope that I can get that bond with a bunch of new blogs that I’ve been following cause the rp community really can be great when there is no drama involved and I really want to come back to this and be around her more.

Aerith, Hope and Serah basically write as if they’re channeling their muses and it’s honestly impressive and I’m in awe of it. 

soft angst starters

                                                          DAY              YEAR                                                      37230 GR   |   408 NW

  The pictures that flashed behind her minds eye were hazy, but the rosette could make out indistinct features of another woman, if she concentrated hard enough. Focusing on the moving frames, the Goddess could make out a young woman, similar in appearance to that of her own; cerulean hues dancing with devotion, staring back at her. But her appellation were lost.

   “–I think I remember,” the pinkette started, recollecting moments stolen away in the depths of her mind.

   That’s Serah, the silver phantom replied, your sister. The name sparked a sense of familiarity, helping the rosette to recall her past relationship.

   “Of course,” the recognition in her rejoinder were audible, as were her sorrow and guilt that she had forgotten someone so dear to her, so precious. She had once torn down the sky to reunite with her younger half, and yet her she were now, struggling to make out the younger sisters countenance. “How could I forget?” The rhetorical question was a scolding to herself, ashamed at her memory for being so cruel. How long had it been now, since she last saw her? Had she began a new life in the new world, or perhaps, already been reborn again? Time always seemed to slip away, like smoke between her fingers, especially in Valhalla.

   Do you remember me? The phantom seemed discouraged with his query, but the Goddess met his gander all the same, studying his features.

   “You…” she began, azure iris squinting as she studying his visage intently, desperate to remember. A feeling of adoration overcame her whilst she met his gaze; his beryl hues reflecting the same love she seemed to feel. “…you’re important to me…?” the rosette were remorseful in her response, as she slowly began piecing together her past and who the boy before her may have been. She could feel his name on the tip of her tongue, fighting to break free from her lips with such vigor, it were possible to have broken a sweat.

   “…its your name,” she breathed, barley above a whisper, “but not who you are…” she were so close now. She had devoted her life to him, as he had done her. The two were counterparts in their human lives, and even now in the realm of death. They shared moments of elation and festivity, along with moments of woe and despondency, both in the old and new world and now, here. Yet, even in the depths of her despair, he had always been there to guide her back from the brink, like he were doing now. Always present to give her–

   “Hope,” the appellation came with ease to her conclusion, her tone filled with alleviation as a smile found its way onto her countenance. I remembered. 

soft angst starters

                                                             DAY             YEAR                                                         53655 GR   |   588  NW

   The Goddess sat beneath the base of her throne, arms propped up onto the seat, head resting against her shoulder. The voice did not cause her head to move, yet her gander came to rest upon the phantom that stood before her, his words unforeseen, startling her almost. 

   Comprehension were audible in his tone, as if he realised something of great importance. His countenance reflected his thoughts; his expression that of surprise, yet the Goddess did not follow.

   I loved you. That’s what he had spoken. But who was he, again? She could not recall how long the silver phantom had been present, but he was always there, separate from the rest of the chaos. The rosette never knew why he had not remained with the rest of his kind, and she couldn’t recollect why she had not began his life anew like she did with the rest of the souls the ventured to her realm. Yet, there was an undeniable sense of familiarity she had whenever he were near. The rosette could never place it. Perhaps, that was why he were still here.

   I loved you. He repeated it again, louder. This time, the Goddess did move, sitting more upright to face him directly. Studying his features, the phantom looked more like a human boy, once it had reached adolescence. His beryl hues were lifeless, which of course were to be expected after spending so much time in solitude, having never been reborn. Yet, his existence seemed sad; sorrowful.

   The amazement palpable on his visage had changed now to that of anguish, as he met her gander. The Goddess realised now that by speaking in past tense, he were referring to when he were still human. It would make more sense that way, albeit surprising he could still recall his old life. However, how could he love her if the two had never met? Were he a devotee to her? A follower to the Goddess of Death? No, his meaning seemed more than that of a believer. It appeared to be birthed from infatuation; complete devotion.

   And you loved me? His next words were laced with doubt; uncertainty, as if he were asking for her to clarify. It were true that the Goddess loved human’s and had taken pity on them, but the love he implied? That were something else. An emotion incapable of a god–

   But she had not always been godly, had she? Once, she had been human too. Or had she? The memories were hazy, but sometimes, the rosette could make out something that resembled that of a human life. She had always passed it off as if they were dreams, that which she had when she slumbered. But her phantom were there too, and they shared moments of intimacy–wait–her phantom? Why would she think of him with a sense of belonging.

   A hand came up to cup her temple, discombobulation evident, causing her head to ache. What emotions were these? How could she feel such things? The rosette did not understand. Humans really were such complex creatures. Yet, it were true, the Goddess began to feel that she, too, were forgetting something important. Perhaps, something as important as a counterpart?

   “–I don’t know,” the Goddess replied, unsure of herself, just as the phantom were. “I don’t even know who you are, really.” she admitted, unapologetic, as eyes closed. “Perhaps it were possible, if that time had once existed,” the time where she had been a human. Yet, how were she to tell now, what were a memory and what were a dream?