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 Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 12:05 am
((This is a collection of backdated solos that were handwritten for Juno over the past year and a half.))
National Pride
[backdated August 2012]
For the most part Aitana was not a big tv person. She would maybe plop down in front of it at the end of a long day. But every couple of years there was an event that drew her attention, like a drug, to the glowing box. And while the winter Olympics were pretty cool, it was the summer Olympics that really lit her fire. Staying up all hours of the night, constantly checking her phone or computer for updated scores and medal counts. When the volleyball events aired it was as if the world around her stood still. Nothing else mattered. And it certainly didn't hurt that Brazil dominated the field.
Brazil AND the United States.
When the games had first begun, with huge pools of players and teams Aitana had been traditional. Her rooting was for Brazil, the mother land, especially the female teams. She was wearing team Brazil colors on top of her uniforms. It wasn't uncommon to hear her hooting and hollering in her native language filling the hallway connected to her room. There was even an unfortunately incident in the living room involving a ball and an expensive vase.
As the games continued however, and the team numbers whittled down, Aitana found a strange thing happening. Maybe it was because the American news was enamoured with their own team and showed it more than any of the others... But the more Aitana watched the US teams, the more she felt herself rooting for them as well. Silently at first. But who could stay silent forever watching Kerri Walsh and Misty May kicking a** left and right?
The first time an excited exclaimation escaped her for the US teams Aitana had felt strangely guilty. Was she cheating on her country? Did rooting for the US lessen her dedication to Brazil? It was a strangely philosophical question for Aitana, not something she usually wasted any of her time with. And yet... there she sat on her bed one afternoon pondering her loyalty to her home. Surely when it came to sports there was room for two right? And she was technically a partial US citizen right now.
The United States and Brazil swept the majority of the medals, unsurprisingly, and Aitana was sure to let everyone know it. HER teams were kicking butt, and so she too, vicariously was kicking butt. Unbeatable. Volleyball machines. And by the time the final tallies for the entire Olympics were made Aitana had fully embraced her duality and the victory it had brought. The United States with 103, the only place to break into triple digits! Leading not only in medals but also in gold. And for Brazil a respectable 17, most of which came from her sport of choice. She could not wait for the 2016 games. The fact that they would be held in her own country on top of everything! Four years couldn't go by fast enough.
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Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 12:10 am
Anywhere I would have followed you
[Back date August 2013]
Please enjoy this lovely inspirational tune >w<
It hadn't taken Aitana long to notice Coralie's disappearance. It had started innocently enough. She wasn't at school on Monday. Maybe she was sick. Or stressed out. Sweet Coralie always had so much on her mind and she was an emotional girl, one that worried too much and dwelled on things that her friend thought were better left forgotten. But she wasn't there Tuesday either. Or Wednesday. And the texts Aitana sent had been going unreplied to.
Had she done something wrong...? Something to upset her Princess? Empathy was not one of Aitana's strong suits. She dwelled on their past few days together. The last couple of patrols.. the last couple of lunches. Had she said something? She couldn't recall. If it had been anyone other than Coralie Aitana wouldn't have even bothered with the thought. But Coralie wasn't just anyone. Coralie was everything.
Thursday and Friday were spent paying no attention, simply staring at an empty seat in class. Sending messages that never got replies. Texts. Emails. On Friday afternoon Aitana stood outside Coralie's home, but noone was there. On Saturday it was the same.
It was Saturday night that she went patrolling, hoping maybe if she was powered up she could find her. That Juno might have more luck than Aitana. That maybe Juno could feel Chibimoon or the other way around. But the hunt was useless, frusterating. By the end of the weekend it had devolved into madness. Had something happened to Chibimoon? Had someone taken her? Hurt her? Killed her? The lone member of the broken quartet paced through the street, looking for clues.
Juno asked other senshi. Had they seen her? She beat the ever loving s**t out of a couple fledgeling Negaverse agents. Did they have her captive? Noone knew anything, noone had seen anything.
Still noone at home. Still no response to her messages. Still noone knew anything. And when her feet touched the surface of the moon, a strange feeling, as Juno herself hadn't ever bothered to visit space before now, there was nothingness. Dead quiet. Not a single soul as the Amazon searched the strange crypt of a rock.
***
Aitana was home when she got the message. Nearly jumping as her senshi phone sounded, her heart thumping at the thought that it could be Chibimoon. But it wasn't.. simply a message from a cat that had heard about her search for the cotton-candy haired princess.
Quote: I wanted to let you know that we found a message from Chibimoon in the backlog at the Command Center. 'Don't worry about me. I'm going to be okay. I've been called.'
'I've been called.'
The words were flat to her. With no meaning. And she stared at them for minutes on end as if trying to dechiper some foriegn language.
'called'
It meant gone. She knew that. The realization hit her like a tidal wave and Aitana errupted from her bed with a guttural scream. Her phone skittered across the floor, followed by her blankets and pillows and matress as she tore her bed apart. The sheer amount of noise coming from her room would have been terrifying had anyone else been around. An unharmonious symphony as things were knocked from shelves accompanied by shrill shrieks.
Aitana wasn't the type to cry. In fact the amount of time she'd cried since becoming a teen she could count easily on one hand. But on this night hot angry tears streamed down her face.
She was all alone again. Vesta, Ceres, and Pallas.. she hadn't heard from them in ages. But she could deal with that as long as she still had her princess. But going back to the days without her. Without her best friend...
Aitana's fist hit the wall. Again and again as the ivory wall became splattered and smeared with dark crimson. The faint noise of snapping and cracking was lost in the chaos of thumps and screams.
Why didn't Chibimoon take her? Juno would have went anywhere for her. Done absolutely anything for her. Even if it was leaving this time, her family, her dreams, this entire life behind. Surely she'd proven herself that night in Elysion when she took not one but TWO arrows as a shield for her princess. So why, why!?
Chibimoon was gone. Coralie was gone. And all that was left was a failure. Maybe if she hadn't taken so long to find her in the first place. Maybe if she'd been better at patrolling. But she couldn't keep her safe. She couldn't keep her at all. She had just failed.
As her fist finally cracked through the plaster and drywall, wood splintering around her wrist Aitana had a moment of clarity. Her hand inspected, like some foreign object. Blood poured from the knuckles, joints and hand already swelling from the inner trauma and fractures. Good.
Failures deserved to suffer.
And so she curled up. In the trashed mess of her floor. Injured hand clutched to her chest. Sobbing until sleep finally overtook her.
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Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 12:13 am
Consequences
[August 2013]
"The cuts and bruises are fairly superficial but there are two seperate metacarpal fractures in her right hand, along with signifigant swelling of the joints and tendons." The doctor tipped the chart he was reading to look at the couple that sat alongside the Brazilian girl's bed. Anyone could tell they weren't her parents and by now they were just.. done. Certainly there was concern on their faces, but just as clear were the looks of exasperation. When they'd first signed up to host an exchange student they could have never guessed the task they'd be taking on. They had pictured what most parents did. A thankful child, a good student. Never in their dreams had they imagined the brash, socially inept child they got instead. How many trips had they made to the doctors in the time she'd stayed with them? Usually with mysterious wounds that noone could explain. As it was Shirley still had nightmares about the night they watched wounds open up right before their eyes on the chest of the sleeping/nightmaring Aitana.
When they found Aitana passed out in the remenants of her trashed room it was the final straw.
During the 72 hour psychiatric hold they had already begun the calls and paperwork to send her home. It would take longer then that of course to get her back to Brazil, but at the very least Aitana was not going home with them and would instead be staying in a temporary home. Aitana didn't really care though, simply staring at the ceiling of the hospital room.
She didn't care that they were ditching her. In the future if she thought back on the couple she would have no bad feelings towards them. But at the moment she didn't even have the desire or drive to think about any of it. Or anything. She just felt hollow. And the drugs they were giving her weren't helping in that feeling.
Despite their best efforts there was very little they could do to help the Brazilian girl. There was very little Aitana could say to explain what exactly had caused her to snap. Even she was smart enough to know that her story would make no sense to the average person. And when the 72 hours was up there was really nothing else they could force upon her, other than patching her up and hoping she'd follow their directions.
"The arm brace will probably have to be on for 6 weeks. And even after it's off it's suggested that you keep to light use for awhile after that for full healing." If she had been more herself she might have complained about the need of her hand for volleyball practice. But at the moment she didn't really care. Her future was gone. None of it mattered as much as Coralie had and now that she was gone.. What was even the point anymore?
"Adeus." It was the single and soul word she offered her exchange family when the time came to finally check her out of the hospital. Not tchau. Adeus. It was unlikely she'd see them again. If she were in a better place she might have even thanked them.
She hardly looked like the same person as she followed the lady from the foreign exchange program, the girl who once stood statuesque in her confidence and atheleticism. Her shoulders slunk forward, her jaw clenched until it ached. But it was more than her appearance that was soon to change.
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Posted: Sun Jul 19, 2015 12:15 am
'Rest and relaxation'
[Sept 2013]
Aitana had lasted barely a week with her cast on before the desire to power up had won and outweighed any concerns over healing. The amazon senshi had learned right away that when she powered up her cast disappeared, and yet some sort of magic still supported her hand and wrist lightly. Not nearly enough to deal with the abuse she was inflicting on it however.
Without a partner or team her powers were useless. As a senshi travelling solo she had nothing to rely on other than her own body and skills. And at the moment her body was failing her. Her usual gymnastics style of fighting was limited. Handsprings that used to be a piece of cake sent ripping pain through her arm. In one particular battle with a Dark mirror senshi she'd even ended up falling flat on her back instead of flipping when her injured hand and wrist had given out before her weight.
Punching was excruciating, not that it stopped her from doing it however, gritting through the pain. Sometimes even reveling in the sharp throbs of pain as she smashed her fists into youma over and over again until finally they disinegrated into dust.
Even her favorite attack, spiking volleyballs at unsuspecting targets, was proving to be harder then she might have thought, either having to use her less dominate left hand or make due with the weaker hits from her right.
It wasn't that her weakness was lessening her effectiveness out in the field. In fact, Juno had probably been more present and effective patrolling over the past few weeks then she'd been in the whole month before Chibimoon's departure. For every ounce of physical strength she'd lost she made up for it in pure berserker rage. No room for thought or sympathy. No room for pain. Just destruction. Blood and dust. Really it was just a miracle she hadn't stumbled into a situation yet were her stupidity had sealed her fate.
It was the time of year where the nights were slowly starting to get chilly again. But Juno hardly noticed the temperature as she prowled the streets, her loin cloth swaying in the evening breeze. She only had a little over a week left until she left Destiny City, likely forever, and she had it in her head to take out as much of her aggression as possible before she returned home. It didn't matter if it was a youma, a cat, or a human, anything that stood in her way was fair game for her rage. Anything to prove she wasn't a loser. A failure. Useless. But no matter how many opponents she defeated the feelings of inadequency never faded. She'd just have to keep at it until she got on the plane and left Destiny City, and everything about it, behind her.
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Posted: Thu Jul 30, 2015 12:49 pm
Bend until we break
[Aug 2014]
Ever since she could remember Aitana had loved volleyball. It was an active sport. You needed to be quick on your feet and quick with your reflexes. You didn't need to rely as much on other players as you did in some other sports, it was entirely possible for one person (ie here) to carry most of the team. And then there was the pain. The blistering sting as a driven ball slammed against your forearms. The grating scratching of sand across a knee or midriff as you barreled down at the last second to save the day. The wonderful, entirely fabulous pain. It was a sign that you were doing a job well done. A sensation that told you that you were alive and successful. Pushing your body to be the very very best.
As a child Aitana had taken gymnastics and volleyball, doing both for recreation as well, even when the classes and clubs were over. But it hadn't been long before she'd graduated from fun and recreation. Even as a child she had been competitive. And even as a child she had been good.
Up until she left for Destiny City years ago she'd been on youth leagues. The best of the best in fact. The ones that important eyes watched from a far, watching and waiting for a diamond in the rough to offer invitations to. Invitations to the Brazilian national volleyball team. And sometimes, even more rarely.. to the extremely prestigeous tryouts for the Olympic teams.
Prior to leaving Brazil, for what she had assumed was the a very important mission of finding her princess, that had been where Aitana's whole life revolved. Playing and competing, sharpening her skills as an athlete in hopes of a coveted invitation. She was perhaps even close, had she just been a little bit older. There had in fact been a few questions about her when she first transferred to the United States. Why was such a promising athlete leaving? Was it all a trick by the American's to try and poach their young talent?
While in the States and in Destiny City Aitana had continued to play on the Meadowview highschool volleyball team. But it wasn't the same. It wasn't nearly as competitive, they'd looked at her like she was crazy in fact sometimes with all the vigor she'd put into the game. More than once she'd been told to take it down a notch. To not be so rough or competitive. Even her 'recreational' use of volleyballs and volleyball skills while patrolling at a senshi had not been the same. She'd gotten rusty in her time away. And then she'd gotten inured too on top of that.
When Aitana returned home to Brazil in Oct of 2013 the first thing on her mind, other than anger and sorrow, was the game she had once loved so much. And though they would not let her play until her cast came off, by the end of the year she was taking solace in the only place that remained for her.
The teams were different now, having missed a few years. Other than a select few, people she used to play with had already moved on either to college, teams, or even just to adult life having given up on the game. The next generation was working hard, fueled by the glory of the 2012 Olympic wins. These players hadn't had the lull of the past few years that she had, and for awhile Aitana actually struggled to get herself back on her feet. Back to the very top of the pile.
By the summer of 2014 she was well on her way. Every bit of her life had been dedicated to the sport. The days in Destiny City and the thoughts of Chibimoon and Coralie purposely and forcefully buried deep in her mind. Taking each of those emotions and turning them simply in aggression and passion for the game. She was a monster, a monster that was turning heads. She had been given that invitation to tryout for the women's national team, there were even whispers among the coaches that she was on a short list for the more coveted olympic tryouts.
Over the months and along the way, Aitana's right hand and wrist had been an obstacle. Due to her irresponsibility while it was attempting to heal there was a weakness within. One that ached with the weather changes and after strenuous practice. It was a pain she powered through and kept hidden, not wanting to share the weakeness or the memory behind the injury with anyone else.
And in the end it was her hand that would be her downfall.
The aggressive and intense use of an appendage that never healed quite properly would always lead to destruction. And as Aitana's intwined fists pounded a particularly fast and hard spike in the middle of a training game there was a disgusting crack and a shrill cry. It was a moment she would never forget.
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Posted: Thu Jul 30, 2015 2:20 pm
((This whole rp technically takes place in Portuguese, but since I'm too lazy to translate it and on the off chance someone might want to read it uhh.. we'll just pretend it is.))
Time of death 6:47pm
[August 2014]
Aitana was tired of hospitals. She could not remember ever having a good experience in one, and a handful of her worst memories involved a hospital at some point. Brazilian hospitals at least.. did not seem as stark and sterile as American ones had been however. If Aitana had been looking for any solace she might have taken some in that.
The air was warm, the sunlight streaming in her window as she waited what felt like forever, staring down at the cast on her right arm and hand. It had a few scribbled signatures on it, from girls on her volleyball team, but she felt nothing about that, simply staring. Wanting to tear the shield of plaster and bandage away.
Why she was even back at the hospital today she wasn't even certain. She'd only been there three days ago and it would likely be a week or two before they took off the first cast and put on a second one. The Brazilian girl huffed a little impatiently, her heels kicking the legs of her chair a little harder than she should have been.
When the doctor finally arrived, he came carrying charts and xrays, promptly clipping up a couple of the darkened sheets before flipping the light on behind to illuminate them. Aitana had noticed that the nurse with him was avoiding eye contact but she hadn't really paid attention, she hadn't deciphered the meaning until the words were spoken.
"Good evening Ms. Matos, thank you for coming in tonight, we've had a chance to fully examine your x-rays."
Aitana offered no greetings, simply a blank frown and bored expression. The girl had been through this before the first time she had broken her hand. Fractures, tendons, damage.. stuck in a cast for the next couple of months... blah blah blah.. be gentle with it and don't use it.. blah blah blah. She didn't have time for an injury. And she really didn't have time to lose a couple of months of training on a stupid cast. Not with the tryouts coming up. Not with the Olympics just under two years away.
"You've broken your hand in two places along the previous fracture lines. Within a couple of months the bones should heal back together again. And we'll be able to remove the cast."
"However. The scar tissue from your previous injuries and daily wear are quite extensive. The new trauma in your joints is not helping either. It is highly likely that unless we do surgery you are prone to suffering from chronic arthritis at best, and potentially permanent limited mobility in your hand."
Somewhere during the conversation Aitana's eyes had widened, her jaw clenching so tightly that it began to ache. Finally her eyes narrowed in anger, seemingly pointing it at the doctor, her voice gruff, almost a growl. "And if I get this surgery? After the surgery everything would be fine, back to normal?"
"Definitely better. I would go so far as to say 'fine' for the most part. The hand will always be weak given the multiple fractures, it cannot heal to 100%. But as long as you avoid overusing it or future trauma to your hand you should be able to live a fairly normal life with little to no pain."
"Volleyball?" Her eyes had closed, left fist tightening because she already knew the answer.
"I would suggest against it unless it's a friendly backyard game."
The sound of metal ringing cut the air as Aitana struck the tray near her, sending it and the medical supplies that had been resting on it flying to the tile floor. It had caused the nurse to jump and as Aitana turned to her a look that could absolutely kill, the poor woman left the room, leaving the doctor to silently clean up the mess as Aitana's mother frantically apologized.
They were still talking, but she couldn't hear them, a rage and sorrow building inside of her much like that night one year prior. There was heat on her cheeks and her vision was getting blurry as she starred at the clock.
6:47. It was the time her life ended.
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Posted: Fri Jul 31, 2015 10:12 pm
Nothing to live for
[July 2015]
She hadn't actually given up that easily.
After the surgery and while her hand healed within it's cast and sling Aitana had tried to convince her coach that she could play. That she would play once all of this was over with and everything went back to normal. And when they hadn't allowed her to play on the team she'd continued practicing on her own. And for a person playing with only one hand, and their less dominate one at that, she wasn't even terrible. She could serve one handed. Spike one handed. After some long and frusterating weeks of repetitive practicing she was even starting to get the hang of volleying back serves with just her left fist and forearm instead of the more powerful double armed method. As one month melted into two and the days ticked away to the day she'd get to remove the cast she practiced, her drive unwavering. She'd even won herself a couple games of beach volleyball for 'fun' on the beach (though whether the other parties had 'fun' with the overly aggressive, dead serious opponent was up for debate). She was still no match for her team but soon enough she'd have two arms again.
The day after her cast was removed Aitana had showed up to the gym dressed and prepared to join the daily team practice. It seemed as though she was the only one prepared for her return however judging by the look of surprise on everyone else's faces.
The coach had atleast been kind enough to pull her someplace private before delivering the news. No professional team or group was going to waste their time and money on a chronically injuried player. It wasn't worth the risk, no matter how good she was. No matter how much she said she was fine, there were medical records out there stating otherwords Her protests, as loud and numerous as they were, did nothing to sway him. Had he not been Aitana's coach for so many years, and had there not been so much pity and apology in his eyes while he spoke, she probably would have punched him in the face before she stormed out the gym for the last time. She didn't even care to say goodbye. ******** each and every one of them.
Aitana was at a loss of what to do with herself, the life she'd prepared before her whole life completely out of reach. A life that was over before she was even 20 years old. What was even the point? Anger and rage was all she had left and she turned it to everyone around her.
It had hit her eventually, somewhere around her birthday and Christmas, that the anger she felt had no better outlet then Destiny City. And at nights she'd dream of the days in the end that she spent beating her aggression out on monsters. The satisfaction as her fists sunk so far into the beasts that they disappeared into dust and nothingness. Like Coralie. Dust and nothingness. It was the only thing left that felt right.
It had taken months to work out the immigration papers and work visa. But months of work finally paid off. And on one hot friday Aitana Ceu Matos feet landed in Destiny City once more. This was all that was left. A city full of monsters. And one more had returned to the brawl.
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Posted: Wed Aug 19, 2015 9:39 am
** Violence/gore warning **
The monster inside
August 1st, 2015
"Get back here fracote." Her bilingual cry echo'd through the streets as she chased after the escaping Lt, long tails of the her butt bow and loincloth flying behind her as she bounded down the darkened alleys of Destiny City. It was not a surprise that Lt Deadite was running after the beating he'd just taken.
The night had started normal enough for the young Lt. He had been cruising the streets, lightly draining unknowing civilians as they enjoyed the summer night. He didn't need much, just the tinest bit from each person, something they'd barely miss, but when added with the rest his collection was growing quite impressive. His Captain would most certain be pleased with his endevours, having well overshot his quota for the week.
Deadite had in fact decided to turn in for the night and tucked his energy away, turning to go home when he felt the aura of a super senshi, and the Amazonian landed in front of him. Her jaw was taunt, the malice radiating off her, and before he could even act in surprise Juno's hand was on his head, swiftly guiding it downward to the knee she'd raised. There was a flash of surprise and pain, blood pouring from the nose she'd just broken, and as Deadite withdrew backwards in pain and surprise, Juno lunged again a laugh mingling with her Brazilian accent. "Do not think I am done with you yet."
His weapon juttered out in self defense, but the plastic click clack toy provided no help. In fact she laughed as she ripped it out of his hands, cracking the plastic before tossing it onto the ground. He tried his best to throw a few punches, but each one was dodged or stopped by the green haired girl. And each attack was met with one of her own. When she'd grabbed him and lifted him up over her shoulder to slam him on the ground he'd decided that escape was his only option.
The night echo'd his footsteps, and he could hear the slap of her sandals as she remained hot on his trail. He was being hunted and tracked, like a beast of prey and his heart was throbbing in his head, deafening when combined with the throb of blood and pain. He was frantic and that was why he didn't notice the fact that she'd gotten ahead of him again until he ran into her. And as his eyes locked the tauntness of her lips softened finally pulling up in a smile that was far from comforting.
Juno grappled with him, knocking him to the ground before she sat on top of him, pinning him with her heavier body, and without a word she began to punch him relentlessly in the face with both free hands. In the beginning she was looking at him, starring directly in his eyes as he pleaded with her to stop, she could almost taste his fear. But as her fists began to ache from the contact with hard bone against pavement she began to stare through him, lost in her own thoughts. This was what she had left. What she was built to do. What she had to do.
She probably hadn't even noticed the moment the Deadite's life faded, her punches landing over and over for a long time in a rhythmic motion. But when finally she did stop she admired her handy work with a sigh of utter satisfaction. It was almost like stress relief the tension and rage of the past few weeks subsiding at least momentarily. When youma died they turned to dust and disappeared. Humans though... that was a far different matter. The poor boy was almost unrecognizable, his face, the actually bones of his skull crushed in places, and splattered with blood. She could likely see the insides of his head if she'd cared to look, not that she did, more than satisfied with the blood. Her white gloves were stained with red, both his blood and her own, her knuckles raw from the assault. But with her fingers she reached down, wiping them in the Lt's blood before she rubbed a streak beneath each eye. War paint.
Satisfied with her success and that her opponent had been completely defeated she slowly lifted herself, noticing only then that somewhere along the way (like when the last breath of life had left him) his uniform had faded away to mere clothing. She kicked the body once curiously, before she turned, folding her hands mildly behind her head. And she strolled, slowly as if nothing at all had happened, because in her mind nothing big HAD happened. Youma, the negaverse, the dark mirror bitches. It was her job to get rid of them all, even if she had to do it alone. And truthfully... Juno felt like she going to enjoy the task.
Chibimoon was gone. Her duty to protect her princess gone. Volleyball and all the dreams of her childhood gone. But in the end she'd found it again. Her place and purpose in life. The thing she could and should do.
The white of her gloves and portions of her fuku were marred with darkening red, a perfect compliment to the bloody 'war paint' on her cheeks. These streets needed to be cleansed, and Juno was more than happy to volunteer.
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