[ week 12, day 2 | dream ] long kiss goodnight
[ Scene one. Our view cuts to a burning wasteland, the shambles of a city (ashes to ashes, dust to dust) where everything has crumbled to the core. Only smoldering wrecks remain where people and places and existence should have been. A high-pitched voice, that of a young girl, narrates the chaos. ]
“Once upon a time, there was a great serpent...”
[ A shadowy figure rises amidst the rubble. It has no discernible form, save a curling, beastly arch; just two glowing red eyes that bear a winged crest, burning symbols of hatred. ]
“The serpent was very evil, and very cruel. Speaking in wicked tongues and bearing its fangs at the world, the serpent pillaged and plundered as it saw fit...”
[ The shadow turns to regard nothing in particular, then dips down to feast on an open body. The body belongs to a pale-skinned, pale-eyed woman, but she still moves, still breathes, even as she's being eaten alive. As ribs snap and crack, she lifts her shadow of a gaze to the stormy sky.
Scene two. The narration fades, and our view is now absent of the serpent. Now we are perched on scaffolding, listening to the roar of an enraged crowd. They're cheering for the death of a captured criminal. They want blood, and they will have it. They string up the woman, who's since recovered from the serpent's ravaging, and their cries heighten to a furious zenith, kill her, burn her, send her to hell, until her neck bends and breaks, until that fragile frame convulses its last.
Scene three, but not really, it's more of the same. The woman is thrown into a guillotine, an iron maiden, a pit of lions, and the vicious cycle continues anew, each inevitable end increasingly gruesome. Screams permeate this house of dreams, shatter the supports, shatter a will that already lies in pieces.
She doesn't bother to raise complaint, because there's no point, she's nothing left to lose, even as she hears herself begging for mercy under the lashing of a whip. Our fledgling narrator appears, a mere child, beaten and bruised and wearing tattered peasant's wraps. She reaches out to the woman, smiling from ear to ear. ]
“Are you frightened Lelouch?” ( Of course you are, a voice whispers to you. )
[ The woman shakes her head. ]
“Are you lonely Lelouch?” ( You don't deserve anyone's company. )
[ Again, she shakes her head. ]
“Then why are you crying Lelouch?” ( You're pathetic, you hate humans for this. )
[ She answers the child, snappishly, glaring down a mirror image of herself. ]
I'm not crying.
“But your eyes look so sad Lelouch.” ( Your eyes look monstrous. )
[ Her temper is flaring. ]
Stop saying that.
“What do you mean, Lelou- ( witch -
[ Her throat is burning. ]
Don't speak ill of the dead!
“But I'm not dead.” ( Not yet, anyway. )
[ Our narrator is no longer our narrator, at least as we've known them. He's a prince, an emperor, a king among kings, a man with the world in his palm.
The child and the man meld together, in and voice and in body, and offer her their hand. ]
“See? I'm alive. Right in front of you, just like you said.” ( Just like you wanted. )
[ And we know. In her eyes and in her heart, her quivering lips and fingers, she wants to believe. She moves to touch that spot - she has to be sure -
It bleeds. It bleeds and bleeds and it's everywhere, gushing out of (his, her) their side. There's no sword to stem the flow, either, only life draining out of the lifeless. She chokes back tears, tries to embrace (him, him, him), but he melts and slips through the cracks, a victim to the charred asphalt.
Don't cry. Don't fall apart. Stay with me, we still have so much to see and do, what meaning is there in this sacrifice? The corpse floats beyond her, too far, too soon, we still have each other, we're still partners, so why can't we...? ]
“The serpent then leaned close to its prey, and whispered...”
[ Scene four, the final act. She's vulnerable and exposed and weak, just like a woman. The serpent is behind her again. Our narrator sits atop its pointed head, speaking her fated lines so she can hear them, too. ]
“Come and see the garden, Eve.” ( You've no place in paradise. ) “Isn't it lovely? Isn't it grand?”
“Come and taste its fruit, Eve.” ( You are already forbidden. ) “Isn't it lovely? Isn't it grand?”
“Come and play, Eve!” ( You don't remember. ) “Come and dance!” ( You don't remember. ) “Who needs Adam, ( who needs anyone )
[ The shadow rears and snarls, child and serpent and prince fusing into a single twisted being, jaws unhinging to swallow her outright. ]
“when you have me?” ( MONSTER. )
[ She braces for impact. Even then, she's unprepared. The fangs cleave her in two, two messy halves never to be whole again. But she's happy, overjoyed, ecstatic!
Smiling, smiling, always smiling... death has finally come for our leading lady - but alas, such is not the case, she's being pulled back, beckoned forth to her proper realm. As you drift, as you return to consciousness, remember:
He won't awaken HE'S LOST HE'S GONE HE'S DEAD AND BURIED AND IT'S ALL YOUR no matter what you wish for. ]
[ C.C. awakens in a start, which is merely a slight twitch given the frequent occurrences of her nightmares. She'll play it off like a professional, though she's bathed in sweat, though her nails dig into her palms to keep from shaking, she'll pretend it never happened.
But it did. Lelouch is dead, isn't he? He's dead. It's just a lie. Just a rouse. Just a...
She rolls over in a fruitless attempt to sleep - her Hitomi blinking tauntingly beside her, everyone has seen it, everyone will know - and to bury the truth. Bury the body, and it'll stay buried.
So much for that, she snorts. ]
“Once upon a time, there was a great serpent...”
[ A shadowy figure rises amidst the rubble. It has no discernible form, save a curling, beastly arch; just two glowing red eyes that bear a winged crest, burning symbols of hatred. ]
“The serpent was very evil, and very cruel. Speaking in wicked tongues and bearing its fangs at the world, the serpent pillaged and plundered as it saw fit...”
[ The shadow turns to regard nothing in particular, then dips down to feast on an open body. The body belongs to a pale-skinned, pale-eyed woman, but she still moves, still breathes, even as she's being eaten alive. As ribs snap and crack, she lifts her shadow of a gaze to the stormy sky.
Scene two. The narration fades, and our view is now absent of the serpent. Now we are perched on scaffolding, listening to the roar of an enraged crowd. They're cheering for the death of a captured criminal. They want blood, and they will have it. They string up the woman, who's since recovered from the serpent's ravaging, and their cries heighten to a furious zenith, kill her, burn her, send her to hell, until her neck bends and breaks, until that fragile frame convulses its last.
Scene three, but not really, it's more of the same. The woman is thrown into a guillotine, an iron maiden, a pit of lions, and the vicious cycle continues anew, each inevitable end increasingly gruesome. Screams permeate this house of dreams, shatter the supports, shatter a will that already lies in pieces.
She doesn't bother to raise complaint, because there's no point, she's nothing left to lose, even as she hears herself begging for mercy under the lashing of a whip. Our fledgling narrator appears, a mere child, beaten and bruised and wearing tattered peasant's wraps. She reaches out to the woman, smiling from ear to ear. ]
“Are you frightened Lelouch?” ( Of course you are, a voice whispers to you. )
[ The woman shakes her head. ]
“Are you lonely Lelouch?” ( You don't deserve anyone's company. )
[ Again, she shakes her head. ]
“Then why are you crying Lelouch?” ( You're pathetic, you hate humans for this. )
[ She answers the child, snappishly, glaring down a mirror image of herself. ]
I'm not crying.
“But your eyes look so sad Lelouch.” ( Your eyes look monstrous. )
[ Her temper is flaring. ]
Stop saying that.
“What do you mean, Lelou- ( witch -
[ Her throat is burning. ]
Don't speak ill of the dead!
“But I'm not dead.” ( Not yet, anyway. )
[ Our narrator is no longer our narrator, at least as we've known them. He's a prince, an emperor, a king among kings, a man with the world in his palm.
The child and the man meld together, in and voice and in body, and offer her their hand. ]
“See? I'm alive. Right in front of you, just like you said.” ( Just like you wanted. )
[ And we know. In her eyes and in her heart, her quivering lips and fingers, she wants to believe. She moves to touch that spot - she has to be sure -
It bleeds. It bleeds and bleeds and it's everywhere, gushing out of (his, her) their side. There's no sword to stem the flow, either, only life draining out of the lifeless. She chokes back tears, tries to embrace (him, him, him), but he melts and slips through the cracks, a victim to the charred asphalt.
Don't cry. Don't fall apart. Stay with me, we still have so much to see and do, what meaning is there in this sacrifice? The corpse floats beyond her, too far, too soon, we still have each other, we're still partners, so why can't we...? ]
“The serpent then leaned close to its prey, and whispered...”
[ Scene four, the final act. She's vulnerable and exposed and weak, just like a woman. The serpent is behind her again. Our narrator sits atop its pointed head, speaking her fated lines so she can hear them, too. ]
“Come and see the garden, Eve.” ( You've no place in paradise. ) “Isn't it lovely? Isn't it grand?”
“Come and taste its fruit, Eve.” ( You are already forbidden. ) “Isn't it lovely? Isn't it grand?”
“Come and play, Eve!” ( You don't remember. ) “Come and dance!” ( You don't remember. ) “Who needs Adam, ( who needs anyone )
[ The shadow rears and snarls, child and serpent and prince fusing into a single twisted being, jaws unhinging to swallow her outright. ]
“when you have me?” ( MONSTER. )
[ She braces for impact. Even then, she's unprepared. The fangs cleave her in two, two messy halves never to be whole again. But she's happy, overjoyed, ecstatic!
Smiling, smiling, always smiling... death has finally come for our leading lady - but alas, such is not the case, she's being pulled back, beckoned forth to her proper realm. As you drift, as you return to consciousness, remember:
He won't awaken HE'S LOST HE'S GONE HE'S DEAD AND BURIED AND IT'S ALL YOUR no matter what you wish for. ]
[ C.C. awakens in a start, which is merely a slight twitch given the frequent occurrences of her nightmares. She'll play it off like a professional, though she's bathed in sweat, though her nails dig into her palms to keep from shaking, she'll pretend it never happened.
But it did. Lelouch is dead, isn't he? He's dead. It's just a lie. Just a rouse. Just a...
She rolls over in a fruitless attempt to sleep - her Hitomi blinking tauntingly beside her, everyone has seen it, everyone will know - and to bury the truth. Bury the body, and it'll stay buried.
So much for that, she snorts. ]