lights will guide you home || Fairylights

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  • "Yes it will!" she insisted, her frustration driving her. It was odd how in her spirit form, as a ghost, emotions drove her so much more than they had when she was alive. It was like her spirit was clinging to the one thing that had once made her alive. Or, perhaps it was her own frustration. "Barkins..." she murmured, pulling out all attempts that she could to drive him from his spot. If calling him "Barkins' the one nickname she had given to him when she was still alive would do anything to help him, she would do it. "Can't we go inside, please? I can't see well in the rain." It was a lie, but maybe if he wouldn't do it for himself, he would do it for her. He had always been loyal in that way. And if that didn't work?... She didn't know. Did he want her gone? Possibly, but doing that would be just as terrible as if Fairy killed him herself. She wouldn't allow that. "My dear love, please.."

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  • The game of life is hard to play

    I'm gonna lose it anyway

    The losing card I'll someday lay

    He knew it wouldn't. You can't promise things would be okay, even when it seemed like things were getting better.. because as soon as it did, you were dragged down into the depths of despair again. Her voice reminded him of someone, that frustration, yet that confidence. The rainstorm reminded him further.


    ["Crew Expendable"]

    [Day 1 - 1:23:36]

    [Somewhere near the Bering Strait]

    [Sgt. "Soap" MacTavish]

    [22nd SAS Regiment]


    It was raining. It appears the bombers stared early, Soap rushed over, grabbing the manifest from the ship, before following the rest of the team. The ship was rocked and the young man fresh out of Selection was rocked off of his feet. His head slammed against the steel of the ship deck beneath him, hitting the salty ocean water.


    "Captain! Captain!!" The Scotsman called out in fear. He feared they would all leave the poor "FNG." Many things came in the radio.


    "All ready in the helicopter sir. Enemy aircraft inbound...Shit! They've opened fire! Get out of there! Now!"


    There was another explosive blast, which caused the man rising to his feet to be knocked onto to the floor again.


    "Bravo Six! Come in! Bravo Six, what's your status?" The helicopter called.


    There was no answer from the group in the ship.


    "Bravo Six, come in, damn it!" the heli called once more.


    Price heard Soap's call, rushing towards the sergeant, grasping his hand and forcing him up. He managed to finally get a hold of the helicopter. "Big Bird, this is Bravo Six we're on our way out! On your feet, soldier! We are leaving! Get to the catwalks! Move move move!"


    The group rushed throughout the ship, twisting and turning through small passageways, with Soap nearly running into a bulkhead.


    The exited the hatch, being immediately blasted with the sound of pouring rain, blasts, and thunder.


    "Which way?! Which way to the helicopter?!" Gaz called out.


    "To the right! To the right!" Price yelled despite the rain, the team making their way to the helicopter in a rush.


    "Keep moving!" "Where the hell is it?!" The loud voices mixed as the helicopter got low enough for them to make it. They move forward. Soap is the last to jump, grasping the ramp when suddenly...


    Fear shot through him as the wet helicopter makes him lose his grip. His body starts sliding down the ramp, and to no avail, he tries to grasp it, his breathing picking up.


    The old man looks towards him, rushing forward and grasping his arms just before he would've been lost to the depths of the sea.


    "Gotcha!"


    His eyes flickered open upon hearing "Barkins." It helped somewhat, as he shuffled his paws underneath him, finally deciding to stand up upon her saying she couldn't see well. He would do it for her, and he would do it again. That is to say, he'll do it for her.


    He let out a tired noise, making his way to the door upon hearing "my dear love, please..." he flicked his ears back at the pleading, and she had won. He opened the door, walking inside, and sort of holding it open.


    "Fine."


    --tags--



  • Though she could have just walked through the door without needing it open, there was a sense of relief that washed over her at seeing him get up. Even if she had to fight tooth and hoof to get him to get up, pulling out all the stops that she could think of to convince him, and no matter how begrudging he was about it, she had won. And now, he was getting up, out of the rain, and it was all that Fairy could have asked for to see John well, even if he didn't want to be well. She murmured a sort of thank you as she followed him through the door to let him know he could close it, the lavender breeze fluttering by as she followed into the house and took a place off to the side, noting already that it was warmer inside, even though such a thing didn't really matter for her anymore. "There you are, love. Do you have a blanket somewhere?" she would murmur softly, subconsciously looking around for the item despite not being able to pick it up. Though, she did have to admit that she was feeling a slight bit better, likely that her soul was starting to piece itself back together again, but by bit. She didn't know the thoughts running through his head; what the rain and her stubbornness had reminded him of. All she knew is that he needed help, and she would be there to help him, no matter what. "Cocoa, maybe?" He needed food, too, though she would take it step by step. It was more likely he'd follow a few little directions rather than nagging all at once.

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  • The game of life is hard to play

    I'm gonna lose it anyway

    The losing card I'll someday lay

    The muddy dog shut the door, rolling his shoulders back. He hadn't known how much they ached, how much his whole body ached. He hadn't heard his stomach rumble, or the tiredness of his half-opened eyes...


    He knew it was a rough fight, hooves included.


    The warmth of the air was comforting, but he'd rather be out where he deserved to be, instead of a comfortable house.



    He turned to her upon her speaking. "...I don't."


    --tags--



  • Fairy thought that the lack of blanket or cocoa was a lie, but she dismissed it for now as she looked him over. He looked terrible. IT was hard to put it into words. Starvation, the dullness in his eyes, the lack of will that she saw in him. "Hmm," she would muse, wandering around the house as she began to scrounge around the best she could for signs of rags or blankets or anything that could be used. "At least get cleaned up then, hm? I know for a fact you at least have some rags and water. Let's get some food in you, too! I'd get you something but uhm.. Still haven't figured out the whole 'moving things when you're a ghost' thing. Give me a hand?"

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  • The game of life is hard to play

    I'm gonna lose it anyway

    The losing card I'll someday lay

    It was a lie. For the time being, he didn't want to take care of himself. Why? Answer was obvious. Even with Fairy with him, he still killed her. That wasn't just a tiny sin. It was huge, massive. It might've been considered a mortal sin if it hit its intended target.


    The lack of will is what bogged him down most. His icy eyes no longer had those sun rays lighting them, instead a stormy cloud was over them. "There is no need for me to eat or to get cleaned up for the moment. As for the ghost thing, I legitimately cannot help you."


    --tags--



  • "There's all the reason, John," Fairy would chide softly as she drifted closer towards John, not caring what he thought of the situation prior. An accident had occured between the tension between her, ghost, and John himself- a dagger had been thrown, a mistake made, and yet, Fairy was still here. There had been no real damage. She hadn't been killed. Not by his hands, anyway. "You're starved, and cold, and you'll get sick from being out in the rain. Clean up, get some food in you. Please, love," she murmured softly, her words at first sounding more like a command, but they had softened dramatically by the time she had finished her sentence. She didn't want to have to boss him around, but he needed to take care of himself, frankly. And she didn't like his currently dismissive attitude towards his own wellbeing. "I can't do it myself, but I can't stand here and see you hurting, either. I'm trying to help in the only way I can right now. Please."

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  • The game of life is hard to play

    I'm gonna lose it anyway

    The losing card I'll someday lay

    There was all the reason? As if. Soap took off his SAS beret, placing it on the table. He frowned as he remembered leaning against it, screaming for Ghost to stop causing him pain, to get off.


    His gaze went towards Fairylights as she spoke once more. Calling him "love." Saying that he was hurting.


    He nearly gave into what his body said he needed, and what she knew he needed. But MacTavish was always a pain, not letting others help him. "'M not hurting, lass. 'M fine." He replied.


    --tags--