dream [week 31, day 1]
[[ooc: No warnings]]
He's dreaming in black and white.
It's obvious it's a dream as well, not mistakable for some kind of event, because so much about it is vague and blurry, and present not as verifiable things--sights sounds feels--but only knowledge, and even that is fading. It is a dream of a time very, very long past.
Before you is a person, at once indistinct and very clear--short, so much so that even though she is standing and you are sitting she still seems small. Even in black and white her skin is dark and her hair very pale. Of details objectively discernible there are few--she is slim, and a girl obviously not yet a woman, but most of what you know about her is what you knew long before this: She is vibrant and vivacious, energetic and almost always smiling, almost always in motion--clever, you know she is clever, and may in fact be one of the most knowledgeable people in the world.
"All riiiiiiight!" she is saying, in a voice you can't really hear, that elides into only words when you try and pin down its qualities--but you know it is high and clear and happy. "We've had the bad grub the past few days, but now--now!--it is time for a lesson." Dramatic pause. "Perhaps the most important lesson of all."
Instantly you are at attention, sitting ramrod straight as she pulls two things from behind her back, pressing one into your hand as she holds the other up like a trophy.
"This," she says, her tone reverent, "is a taco."
"Taco," you repeat, looking at it curiously. "What is it?"
"It is," she says, "the greatest foodstuff known to gods, elvaan, tarutaru, humans...and whatever you are. They can be sweet, they can be salty, but the best kind are spicy and HOT! Like this one!" She brandishes the taco, and you hold yours up to study it...
flump.
It's suddenly a lot lighter.
She cries out at the sight of taco filling on the ground from an upended, upside-down taco shell, and you don't even have time to brace yourself for the smack upside the head you know is coming. "You don't hold them like that!" An aggrieved sigh. "Maybe I should have started you with the sardine sushi."
You rub at your head--it hurts, but not a lot. But that's only because she did it on purpose. If she wanted you to feel it later, you know, then you would...
The scene has changed. You're standing near the wooded edge of a clearing, and she is once again clearly in Teacher Mode.
"Okay now, you're doing okay with the pointy pieces of metal"--
"Sword," you supply helpfully.
"--yeah, that. But it's time you learned real fighting." She cracks her knuckles. "REAL warriors don't need fancy tricks like weapons."
Once again, you watch intently as she stretches by three trees. "This is a basic combo kata. It's really easy, but I'll go slow anyhow. Now--" She focuses herself for a moment, then moves.
"Hah!" One punch splinters the trunk of the first tree.
"Yah!" The second punch puts a large hole in the trunk of the second.
"There!" Now for a kick that partially uproots the third tree.
"See?" she's saying, not a scratch on her and not out of breath at all, scampering behind you to push you to another stand of three trees. "Simple! Now, you do it!"
You remember closely what it looked like when she began the combo, both here and the countless times you've sparred and fought alongside her. You steel yourself, you assume her pose; fearlessly, you punch the tree.
Something cracks.
It's not the tree.
"SHANTOTTO!" Her voice. "I NEED YOU!"
You're lying on a grassy knoll, and she's flopped down next to you. It's a beautiful day, with a light breeze blowing fluffy white clouds across the sky.
"I think that one looks like a turtle," she says, pointing at one.
You nod, and then say "-----," (her name, not that you can remember it precisely, you only know that it's the name that belongs to her), "what is a turtle?"
"-----, what is that?"
"It's called a 'comb'." She gives you a look from the corner of her eyes. "...That explains a lot."
"Hmm?"
"-----, what is that..."
"'Bird'," she supplies.
"What is that bird doing?"
"Flying."
"Oh." A pause of several moments. "Isn't that what the Emperor does?"
"No, he levitates."
"...What is the difference?"
"Well, with birds..." She comes to a pause, scratches her chin, then continues, "Well...the wings are important..."
"...Ultimecia can fly, but not the Emperor?"
"No! Um...Aha!" She hits the palm of one hand with the fist of another. "Levitation is what evil wizards do. Flight is what birds do."
"Oh. What about Cosmos?"
"Hmm? Oh, she hovers."
"-----," you say, and your voice is slower and more contemplative. "I've been thinking."
"Yeah?" She turns to face you, wiping the trace of chocolate from her mouth with her sleeve.
"I'm...different from you and Shantotto and Cosmos, am I not?"
You don't really notice it, but there's a pregnant pause before she speaks. "What makes you say that?"
"You are all slender," you say, obviously having thought about this before, "you are short, your faces rounder and your voices much higher, and--"
"Oh!" You don't register the relieved tone of her laughter. "That's because we're girls and you're a boy. Boys are bigger and taller but they're clumsier and they smell bad." Suddenly one of her arms is around your shoulders. "But you're okay."
The Warrior wakes slowly in his room in the ryokan, rolling onto his back, then sitting up, resting chin on forearms and elbows on knees. He sits in thought for a while--then, when he glances at the hitomi, he notices it is recording, and reaches to turn it off.
He's dreaming in black and white.
It's obvious it's a dream as well, not mistakable for some kind of event, because so much about it is vague and blurry, and present not as verifiable things--sights sounds feels--but only knowledge, and even that is fading. It is a dream of a time very, very long past.
Before you is a person, at once indistinct and very clear--short, so much so that even though she is standing and you are sitting she still seems small. Even in black and white her skin is dark and her hair very pale. Of details objectively discernible there are few--she is slim, and a girl obviously not yet a woman, but most of what you know about her is what you knew long before this: She is vibrant and vivacious, energetic and almost always smiling, almost always in motion--clever, you know she is clever, and may in fact be one of the most knowledgeable people in the world.
"All riiiiiiight!" she is saying, in a voice you can't really hear, that elides into only words when you try and pin down its qualities--but you know it is high and clear and happy. "We've had the bad grub the past few days, but now--now!--it is time for a lesson." Dramatic pause. "Perhaps the most important lesson of all."
Instantly you are at attention, sitting ramrod straight as she pulls two things from behind her back, pressing one into your hand as she holds the other up like a trophy.
"This," she says, her tone reverent, "is a taco."
"Taco," you repeat, looking at it curiously. "What is it?"
"It is," she says, "the greatest foodstuff known to gods, elvaan, tarutaru, humans...and whatever you are. They can be sweet, they can be salty, but the best kind are spicy and HOT! Like this one!" She brandishes the taco, and you hold yours up to study it...
flump.
It's suddenly a lot lighter.
She cries out at the sight of taco filling on the ground from an upended, upside-down taco shell, and you don't even have time to brace yourself for the smack upside the head you know is coming. "You don't hold them like that!" An aggrieved sigh. "Maybe I should have started you with the sardine sushi."
You rub at your head--it hurts, but not a lot. But that's only because she did it on purpose. If she wanted you to feel it later, you know, then you would...
The scene has changed. You're standing near the wooded edge of a clearing, and she is once again clearly in Teacher Mode.
"Okay now, you're doing okay with the pointy pieces of metal"--
"Sword," you supply helpfully.
"--yeah, that. But it's time you learned real fighting." She cracks her knuckles. "REAL warriors don't need fancy tricks like weapons."
Once again, you watch intently as she stretches by three trees. "This is a basic combo kata. It's really easy, but I'll go slow anyhow. Now--" She focuses herself for a moment, then moves.
"Hah!" One punch splinters the trunk of the first tree.
"Yah!" The second punch puts a large hole in the trunk of the second.
"There!" Now for a kick that partially uproots the third tree.
"See?" she's saying, not a scratch on her and not out of breath at all, scampering behind you to push you to another stand of three trees. "Simple! Now, you do it!"
You remember closely what it looked like when she began the combo, both here and the countless times you've sparred and fought alongside her. You steel yourself, you assume her pose; fearlessly, you punch the tree.
Something cracks.
It's not the tree.
"SHANTOTTO!" Her voice. "I NEED YOU!"
You're lying on a grassy knoll, and she's flopped down next to you. It's a beautiful day, with a light breeze blowing fluffy white clouds across the sky.
"I think that one looks like a turtle," she says, pointing at one.
You nod, and then say "-----," (her name, not that you can remember it precisely, you only know that it's the name that belongs to her), "what is a turtle?"
"-----, what is that?"
"It's called a 'comb'." She gives you a look from the corner of her eyes. "...That explains a lot."
"Hmm?"
"-----, what is that..."
"'Bird'," she supplies.
"What is that bird doing?"
"Flying."
"Oh." A pause of several moments. "Isn't that what the Emperor does?"
"No, he levitates."
"...What is the difference?"
"Well, with birds..." She comes to a pause, scratches her chin, then continues, "Well...the wings are important..."
"...Ultimecia can fly, but not the Emperor?"
"No! Um...Aha!" She hits the palm of one hand with the fist of another. "Levitation is what evil wizards do. Flight is what birds do."
"Oh. What about Cosmos?"
"Hmm? Oh, she hovers."
"-----," you say, and your voice is slower and more contemplative. "I've been thinking."
"Yeah?" She turns to face you, wiping the trace of chocolate from her mouth with her sleeve.
"I'm...different from you and Shantotto and Cosmos, am I not?"
You don't really notice it, but there's a pregnant pause before she speaks. "What makes you say that?"
"You are all slender," you say, obviously having thought about this before, "you are short, your faces rounder and your voices much higher, and--"
"Oh!" You don't register the relieved tone of her laughter. "That's because we're girls and you're a boy. Boys are bigger and taller but they're clumsier and they smell bad." Suddenly one of her arms is around your shoulders. "But you're okay."
The Warrior wakes slowly in his room in the ryokan, rolling onto his back, then sitting up, resting chin on forearms and elbows on knees. He sits in thought for a while--then, when he glances at the hitomi, he notices it is recording, and reaches to turn it off.