o o 1 8 ♥ dream
Effects: Feelings of exhaustion before eventual relief and joy.
He is out of breath but continues to run. Younger, smaller, weaker than what he really is, but he cannot know that now. The landscape is a warm one, filled with flowers and sunshine, but he does not take in any of the colors as they rush by him. Instead, his eyes remain set on the figure up ahead, standing at the top of the hill -- his older brother.
The man's back is to him, staring off at some scenery that he can't see. His hands occasionally swing to knock the flowers out of his way, letting the petals explode everywhere into a makeshift rain, ruining them. He still doesn't stop running, even though his body seems to be so tired. His feet occasionally slip in the mud and dirt. Slowing him down, pulling him down into the earth as though to completely halt his process. Even as he runs, he tries to catch his breath -- hand on his chest -- but he can't quite call out to his brother to be able to get his attention.
So close.
His hand reaches out to catch the back of his brother's clothes -- look at all I've done, look at me, be proud--, but in his haste and excitement, he slips. He lets out a soft noise as he crashes into the ground instead. His clothes and face ruined by the dirt. Tugging on his clothes, he lifts them slightly to see the damage done before the tears start to roll down his face. Large, unhappy, pathetic.
It is his crying that catches his brother's attention as the figure turns to face him. Already, he is wiping at his nose, his face, but so out of breath and tired that he cannot say that he is fine, that he isn't crying. A handkerchief is placed against his face, wiping off the dirt and tears, kindly.
His shoulders shake before he sees that his brother is not looking at him in disgust or pity, but the same understanding that he always did. The hand settles on his hair, ruffling it a little, to cheer him up.
"You did well to make it this far, Clovis."
He did well.
He may not have been able to see what it is that his brother was looking at, but he is, at least, finally recognized.
[ Such an embarrassing dream. He holds his dreamberry for a time, before deciding what it is that he must do. People saw it and he has to respond correctly. Unembarrassed and denying everything. That is the best and only face that he feels that he can show the world. ]
He is out of breath but continues to run. Younger, smaller, weaker than what he really is, but he cannot know that now. The landscape is a warm one, filled with flowers and sunshine, but he does not take in any of the colors as they rush by him. Instead, his eyes remain set on the figure up ahead, standing at the top of the hill -- his older brother.
The man's back is to him, staring off at some scenery that he can't see. His hands occasionally swing to knock the flowers out of his way, letting the petals explode everywhere into a makeshift rain, ruining them. He still doesn't stop running, even though his body seems to be so tired. His feet occasionally slip in the mud and dirt. Slowing him down, pulling him down into the earth as though to completely halt his process. Even as he runs, he tries to catch his breath -- hand on his chest -- but he can't quite call out to his brother to be able to get his attention.
So close.
His hand reaches out to catch the back of his brother's clothes -- look at all I've done, look at me, be proud--, but in his haste and excitement, he slips. He lets out a soft noise as he crashes into the ground instead. His clothes and face ruined by the dirt. Tugging on his clothes, he lifts them slightly to see the damage done before the tears start to roll down his face. Large, unhappy, pathetic.
It is his crying that catches his brother's attention as the figure turns to face him. Already, he is wiping at his nose, his face, but so out of breath and tired that he cannot say that he is fine, that he isn't crying. A handkerchief is placed against his face, wiping off the dirt and tears, kindly.
His shoulders shake before he sees that his brother is not looking at him in disgust or pity, but the same understanding that he always did. The hand settles on his hair, ruffling it a little, to cheer him up.
"You did well to make it this far, Clovis."
He did well.
He may not have been able to see what it is that his brother was looking at, but he is, at least, finally recognized.
[ Such an embarrassing dream. He holds his dreamberry for a time, before deciding what it is that he must do. People saw it and he has to respond correctly. Unembarrassed and denying everything. That is the best and only face that he feels that he can show the world. ]