Staring At Clouds. Forms Like Bygone Memories. [Shirohime, Open]

The City of Lights was so vast and she was so tired of walking around them. Every step felt like agony and yet she took another without regard for the pain. No matter how much closer it felt like her inevitable fate drew closer she was bitter by the lack of progress. She did not need to feel at ease or see the restoration of the World but she needed to see it set in motion at least before she passed. All it had to do was be like a snowball rolling down a hillside. An avalanche that would sweep this broken world away and restore it to its former glory.

Her failure would be wiped away and she'd feel cleansed of sins. Heroes always became villains after all, it was just a matter of time before you find yourself looking in the mirror and no longer recognising who was looking back at you from the reflection and then time, pain and misery tried to take even those memories away.

"..."

"Are you okay?"

Someone asked her while she was leaning against the wall. The quincy taking a blank gaze to turn back and face him before he recoiled and receded back a few steps and uttered that familiar name under his breath. White witch. She had became something like that she thought while staring at her fragile hands. If she could cry, she might've but emotional pain had become dulled for the sake of willpower to persist through the limitations of her form and tears only ever came after serious bouts of physical pain and trauma.

Her legs felt weak and she leaned against the bricks of the wall before sliding down until she was sitting against it and staring up at the sky. She missed looking up at the sky with friends, not comrades... just friends.

Alastair was all too familiar with the winding streets of the City of Lights that he had come to enjoy his escapist walks. Away from the bustle of high society that afflicted the inner city was where he was truly at home, whether it be sitting in an empty garden or walking around a deserted estate. That was where he found himself today, as he watched another man scamper from an alleyway with a speed that caused him some mild concern. He thought first to stop him but, as they moved away from each other, his gaze was instead drawn to that from which he fled.

A familiar figure, slender and delicate but framed in white. It had been a while since he had last seen her, in that cafe by the ocean several months before, but she did not look any better than then. Her white hair was no less shocking than then, even as she was bundled up on the floor.

He approached her, soft footfalls against the stone, but cleared his throat first so as best not to startle her.

"Are you quite alright, Miss Shirohime? I did wonder if our paths would cross again."

A figure came into view but her eyes were taking a moment to adjust, she stared at him with eyes that didn't seem to be meant for him. Rather that she was looking at him like he was someone else in her moments of nostalgia until he spoke and the illusion was broken. She was still here, in this same situation and those memories of who she was faded to the back of her mind again. A falter of willpower wasn't something she could do, that single-mindedness was the only lifeline she had to remain in the world anymore.

"Hello..."

She knew who he was but she had forgotten his name. A lot of things were typically forgotten like smaller details of her life in favour for that obsession that kept her clinging to life. Maybe he wouldn't notice if she didn't bring it up - once upon a time she had an amazing memory. It was just another nail in what felt like her coffin.

"I was just out for a walk and I became tired. That's all."

It wouldn't do him any good to make him worry but the fact that she didn't want to admit that she probably couldn't stand back up in this spot without the aid of her powers she had been neglecting to use for the sake of drawing out her time. Her well-being felt like it deteriorated quite quickly after she had put her faith in Cyrus and given form the entity now called Mazda. Maybe she could get one of them to help her, later though since she'd just sit here for the moment.

"It's a lovely day today. Days like this were always nice when it was peaceful."

There was something to her stare that felt like it pierced straight through him, not perhaps maliciously but rather that she was looking for something else in his place and he was offending her by taking its place. Only as he spoke was there some form of recollection, though the whole experience did send somewhat of a chill down his spine.

"Then I suppose that makes us a pair again, taking the time to admire the nicer things."

He wore the vaguest hint of a smile, faint though intentionally welcoming, but, equally, he could not completely mask his concern. Closing the distance only supported the notion that she was even more fragile than when they had last met. He did wonder what to do, as overstepping boundaries with such an old soul was not exactly at the top of his to-do list, but was it even remotely proper to consider leaving her there?

"Might I sit with you for a while? I would not mind some companionship on a day like this."

Part of her wanted to tell him to keep going, she didn't want his reputation to become tarnished by rumours of being bewitched by her. People often opted to leave her alone out of fear from her enigmatic aura but he treated her like she was anyone else. The fact she was a walking corpse, shrouded in mystery and secrets and her status didn't make him consider a second thought. It really did make her seem parallels between the two of them. The man in her memories and the man who existed in a physical form.

"Of course you may."

Admittedly she did not know what to talk about, she barely remembered what their last conversation consisted of. Instead she just broke the silence by shifting her head to look back up at the clouds and give a faint smile.

"You're a nice person..."

His name still remained a mystery to her and while her first instinct was to say a different name, the person she thought he was, that was hardly appropriate. Forgetting his name was one thing but calling him something completely different was just insulting.

"My pleasure."

Lowering himself down in perhaps a more graceful descent than her own, Alastair placed himself next to her. Not close enough that anything untoward could be implied, but near enough that they might still converse politely. It felt strange to be called a nice person simply for giving the slightest of indications that he cared, but perhaps that was a statement on the state of the modern world.

"I just saw a friendly face sitting alone and wondered if she wished for some company. Nothing more."

Calling them friends was a little much, though he had considered it. Their first meeting had been something of an enigmatic experience, but he still welcomed the wisdom that she had shared with him. Still, there had been some questions that she had left him with. Perhaps there would be a time to ask today.

"How have you been keeping? It has been a long few months."

"It has."

Time felt a bit different between them, that Shirohime was very sure of. She only knew it was a couple of months based on his own assessment of the situation, he could've said it was only a few weeks and Shirohime would take his word for it. Time became irrelevant when everyday was an extra one stolen.

"I'm well. How are you faring? Were you involved in the Jefferson operation? I've heard unpleasant stories.. When I was young such things weren't so devestating. Measures kept overflow from happening, small incidents at best... People lived in blissful ignorance of the workings of death as abstracts they didn't need to worry about."

She felt like she was rambling. There didn't appear to be any rhyme or rhythm. She was just talking due to his presence. Shirohime would feel bad if she was poor company.

"I was."

His tone turned from polite intrigue to sombreness in a few short words. Of course, she had been thinking about Jefferson just as he had. Plenty of Vandenreich lives had been wasted, perhaps she had lost someone else close to her. His gaze now turned up to join hers in the clouds, enjoying the distance between them at that moment.

"It weighs upon me, that disaster. There were a lot more losses than there could have been. Were we better prepared, were I better prepared. But I survived, so I should call myself lucky, I suppose."

She had such a peculiar way of saying that things had been better in the olden days, talking about the workings of death like she was more familiar with it than anyone had any right to be. Though his mind was not especially focused on her own words, for she had dragged him into his own thoughts rather easily and he had plenty to think about there.

"That's because things weren't meant to be like this. Masses weren't supposed to deal with the dangerous of titanic threats like this, regardless of whether we wish for it or not. The world's threats will always be resolved by small groups with powerful individuals to protect the powerless. Everyone has a limit to their own abilities, none of us have infinite potential. Do you understand?"

It was a little harsh to be speaking in a way which admonished the causalties because she believed they should never have been in the way of harm to begin with. It didn't matter if the Gotei was a smaller group during her era or smaller circles of spiritually enhanced beings operated on their own terms to protect the soul cycle and the planet.

Whether it was her bygone days lost to time or just how she saw the world as she believed it should be. Shirohime waited to see if he was following what she meant. The matter of his luck was not about him being in the right point at the right time. He was just among the group of people that should've been there, when others should not have.

"Would that we had the luxury of such a state of being, wherein the powerless did not have to fear for there were enough of the powerful to protect them. Instead, we must suffer and struggle for every victory, finding strength in survival, for that is the weight of progress."

She was far from wrong in her assessment, as simplistic as it was. It had been the powerful that had salvaged the Jefferson situation, they had dealt with the real threat alone. What had all those Vandenreich recruits truly contributed but their lives? What had he contributed but one more face upon the masses?

"I follow the idea, though I cannot say I consider it is as absolute as you suggest. Everyone has their limits, but is it not the duty of the powerful to escape those restrictions and rise above?"

His words revealed his optimistic heart, that naive belief that he might be able to one day reach beyond his station, though he was not so arrogant as to frame his response in relation to himself. There were plenty of strong people already out there, some of which he had since come to know, and a few of them did so inspire him in one way or another.