Show pageOld revisionsBacklinksBack to top This page is read only. You can view the source, but not change it. Ask your administrator if you think this is wrong. ======Massira Thorssen====== =====The Last Flight Of Adarna===== Massira had hated funerals. She hadn’t even gone to the services for Minokawa, Ibingan, Arimaonga and Bakunawa - all Nassians she’d fought alongside for decades. ‘Cause when the time came, she couldn’t do it. Only for Adarna had she watched from afar. And even then, she couldn’t stay -- the pain too great, the nightmares still raw. For a part of her heart, burned and broken, had been buried along with Adarna that day. Two Minds, standing in a grassy plain, stare expectantly at Massira, arranged in a circle. Thressali’s dressed in outdoorsy clothes. Myriad voices writhe within her–don’t blink/blink–and her Form glitches; she is briefly legion, arrayed in her hundreds. Massira is unfazed. She braved the mist-forests and thundering seas of Thressali’s dreams. Instead, her gaze meets Caelan’s. The only other Nassian she’d ever loved. Massira’s glad he’s there. They exchange a nervous smile. Emboldened, Massira begins her eulogy. “Adarna was my squad-leader. Dependable, resilient, and effortlessly funny, she’s the only reason I’m still alive. She was also my best friend. And I loved her. “So it figures that Massira never recovered after she’d killed her, and the Shadow-Hand. Her life, detonated in a single botched explosion. Adarna died in her arms, as Massira whispered that she’d loved her. But Adarna always knew. Only Massira Prime never had the courage to confess. I realise now how wrong she was.” A pause. Massira locks eyes with Caelan. “Grief-stricken, Massira Prime uploaded into this Mind a near-copy of Adarna’s consciousness. Her ghost, born of my memories, but destroying me from within. “I had to let her go. And so I was free. But I’ve got to confront my fears and failures properly this time. So I’ve gathered you here to witness the Final Flight of the Adarna. So, salamat, aking sinta. Paalam, Adarna.” And with that, Massira ignites the space between them. A roiling pillar of illusory, crimson flame spirals up, illuminating the sky, a single impossible firework-light. And as it ascends, the Adarna birds materialise and ride in their thousands, a shimmering iridescence, ultraviolet plumage rippling softly. Their dirgeful chorus is unearthly, roaring of rebirth -- the last vestiges of Adarna’s soul finally unfettered and flying free. Thressali catches one of her campfire ballads in their tune, and recalls the hope she once sung. For Caelan, in that fire is the memory of his hand meeting Massira’s in the poppy-struck Garden of the Dead, watching his mirage of the fleeting stars unfold. Massira is crying freely. One of the Adarna birds hovers briefly beside Massira, and then a Nassigussan stands before her. They exchange a final embrace -- a final alimbayaw. And then she is gone. The funeral-field falls silent. All that remains is a solitary poppy -- gently taken by Massira and set on Adarna’s grave. Massira is free; so too is Adarna’s memory. A future all her own lies before Massira. A future with Caelan. A future with hope. A soldier no more. Massira had returned home from the front at last. ;;# //--- Written By Rhys P// ;;# =====The Long Road===== The road to recovery is a long one. Massira knows that, logically, but it's hard to keep that fact in mind, when confronted with a future without someone you love in it. Thressali's death hit her hard. She did what she could for her, first to help, then to comfort and listen, but it was always going to end like this. ---- ==-- -- HARBINGER REPORT LOG -- BAKUNAWA -- --== ''%%Engineering reports suggest severe structural damage. Recommended course of action: Controlled Demolition%%'' ---- But there are two directions on this road, and Mass sure as hell isn't going to slide back. Not again. She no longer walks alone down this path, now side-by-side with Caelan. One faltering step after another, she picks herself back up, supported by the hands of those about and alongside her. As solid and as capable Massira has been for others, so are they for her. ---- ==-- -- HARBINGER REPORT LOG -- ARIMAONGA -- --== //A video feed shows two River-climbers, held up by a mechanical behemoth, floodwater rushing between her legs. She carries the pair to a waiting rescue boat, before returning to the waterlogged street.// ---- At times, she wants to stop. To sit there, to break down, to //scream//. Shouting and ranting about the unfairness of it all. Why them? Why Adarna, and Ibingan, and Arimaonga, and Minokawa, and Bakunawa, and Thressali? Why were they taken, of all people? ---- ==-- -- HARBINGER REPORT LOG -- MINOKAWA -- --== //Field Report:// //Riots active in the market district, with pilots scrambled to ensure prevention of civilian harm. No casualties, though unable to prevent superficial damage to infrastructure. Beginning repair-work.// ---- She traces this path further and further along, steps sometimes halting, sometimes picking herself up from the floor, but always forwards. Onwards, and to the future. ---- ==-- -- HARBINGER REPORT LOG -- IBINGAN -- --== //A series of architect's drawings, coupled with photos of half-built houses track the progress of the rebuilding project. Sketches of the foundations and city layouts are followed by a photo of a Nassian bricklayer standing beside a half-wall, in turn followed by electrical schematics. The final image is a satellite view of a large, newly-built town.// ---- After all, it's about the journey as much as it is the destination, and the journey is ongoing. It always will be. This isn't a path she can stop on, now that she's begun. But every once in a while, Massira catches her breath. And she takes a look at the view. ---- ==-- -- HARBINGER REPORT LOG -- ADARNA -- --== //Taken from the top of a hill, it's the view of a dazzling sunset. The camerawoman is sitting beneath a large deciduous tree, gargantuan, mechanical legs stretched out before her. Twin stars dip below the horizon, filling the sky with twisting colours, of reds, golds, pinks and blues. All the while, Massira watches them.// eternity/massira_thorssen.txt Last modified: 2025/10/18 15:56by gm_ben