☁ Dream .oo2. ☁
The boy ran, and ran, and ran. The only sounds he could hear were the beating of his heart, the quick intake of breath, and the clacking of the beads in his hair as they bounced against each other. Rain thundered down around him, soaking him and mixing with the blood on the ground, but even that seemed eerily quite in comparison to the fear that gripped him. The terrain kept changing, and anyone who'd ever caught a glimpse of the Junkyard could recognize the dead, slate gray world of carved walls and Hindu imagery. Everything had a meaning, but it had all been lost on the denizens of this place, empty and dead.
Cielo cut across the courtyard in Muladhara, heading towards the cage that would bring him up to a higher level but the mechanism wouldn't budge, no matter how hard he kicked and raged at it. There was desperation in his struggle, and when he gave up he ran again, full force towards another exit. Then he was in Svadisthana, chasing flashes of color out of the corner of his eye, a bit of red, or pink, or silver, always just out of reach. In the back of his mind he could feel those wide, doe eyes watching him. Waiting for him.
They were leaving him behind, and he didn't understand why.
Turning a corner and it was Manipura, running between rooftops on planks of old wood, but there was nothing but the rain there to meet him, soaking his clothes and freezing his bones. In some vague memory he thought someone might have said that the rain was supposed to be cleansing. All it did for him them was make him feel even more alone.
So he kept running, no matter how his body hurt, or how his lungs could barely pull in air anymore. He had to find them. He had to find them!
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Wakefulness didn't come easy, like the dream kept trying to draw him back down into it. He was restless, sprawled across Gale's chest, covered in a faint, cold sweat.
Cielo cut across the courtyard in Muladhara, heading towards the cage that would bring him up to a higher level but the mechanism wouldn't budge, no matter how hard he kicked and raged at it. There was desperation in his struggle, and when he gave up he ran again, full force towards another exit. Then he was in Svadisthana, chasing flashes of color out of the corner of his eye, a bit of red, or pink, or silver, always just out of reach. In the back of his mind he could feel those wide, doe eyes watching him. Waiting for him.
They were leaving him behind, and he didn't understand why.
Turning a corner and it was Manipura, running between rooftops on planks of old wood, but there was nothing but the rain there to meet him, soaking his clothes and freezing his bones. In some vague memory he thought someone might have said that the rain was supposed to be cleansing. All it did for him them was make him feel even more alone.
So he kept running, no matter how his body hurt, or how his lungs could barely pull in air anymore. He had to find them. He had to find them!
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Wakefulness didn't come easy, like the dream kept trying to draw him back down into it. He was restless, sprawled across Gale's chest, covered in a faint, cold sweat.