[Dreams. Games played by the subconscious, doors that open to endless worlds outside human reach. His whole existence could very well be considered one of a dream. Existing as long as he thinks, vanishing the moment he stops only to reappear again if he ever starts once more. A being outside worlds, above and below them, a dream and a nightmare, that's all he is.
He had thought that he had lost the ability to dream when he was born. Apparently he's wrong, or he has discovered a power to visit dreams from others. It doesn't make a real difference, he's used to observe things and to immerse himself in them occasionally. Primo stands, observing the stars lazily, they look so much like world fragments that he's almost tempted to try to reach for one. It always feels strange to observe the stars, something humans do quite often, something he himself did before as one.]
[If he happens to look down, the rubble moves. It crumbles and groans, shifting into a pathway that then leads to some sort of portal in the middle of this aether. The blurry sight of a dark city can be seen, the sky forever obscured by black and green-tinged clouds.
[The heart of a world. He has never looked deep enough into a world to reach it. Primo turns his attention to the pathway, feeling the light ping of curiosity inside of him.]
I don't believe in luck. Even if I did, we both don't get along.
[The world will urge him forward, seeing the destruction ShinRa will cause to his own world. To show him what greed will do, how lingering sadness can be... it's his memory, combined with others in this realm who had experienced the same, playing in the air like an old, distorted film.]
No. I won't say anyone's lucky.
In fact, we're all screwed in the end.
[Underneath his feet, this newcomer will find bright, yellow lilacs sprouting through the grimy, cragged surface.]
[Primo gives in to the urging, fine, show him what you want to show though the reasons of why escape him. He observes the scenes played in front of him with little reaction or expression, used to see tragedies like this or even bigger ones to play right in front of his eyes. He stood aside watching the girl he loved the most have her body teared into pieces until nothing recognizable of her pretty face was left. Nothing this world can show him will unnerve him particularly.
He eyes the yellow lilacs and the sight manages to steal a smile from his face. He can't help to be reminded of Beatrice's Golden Land.]
Because there's always hope? Or because it simply doesn't matter how screwed things are?
[Because even if the land around Midgar is dead and dry, travel a while out. The world becomes beautiful again and riddled with life. Suffering has an ending point somewhere - it just takes some moving on to get to it.]
My philosophy? Hope is for those who waste time sitting and dreaming for what they want rather than moving to get it.
[Waiting may bring fortune back again, traveling may lead you to a flower field away from a dried land. But what stops you from working to make that dried land a flower field by yourself?]
He had thought that he had lost the ability to dream when he was born. Apparently he's wrong, or he has discovered a power to visit dreams from others. It doesn't make a real difference, he's used to observe things and to immerse himself in them occasionally. Primo stands, observing the stars lazily, they look so much like world fragments that he's almost tempted to try to reach for one. It always feels strange to observe the stars, something humans do quite often, something he himself did before as one.]
What kind of dream is this?
Reply
Consciousness. Dreams.
You wanna try your luck?
[If he happens to look down, the rubble moves. It crumbles and groans, shifting into a pathway that then leads to some sort of portal in the middle of this aether. The blurry sight of a dark city can be seen, the sky forever obscured by black and green-tinged clouds.
Will you do it? Will you step forward?]
Reply
I don't believe in luck. Even if I did, we both don't get along.
Reply
No. I won't say anyone's lucky.
In fact, we're all screwed in the end.
[Underneath his feet, this newcomer will find bright, yellow lilacs sprouting through the grimy, cragged surface.]
But it's okay.
Reply
He eyes the yellow lilacs and the sight manages to steal a smile from his face. He can't help to be reminded of Beatrice's Golden Land.]
Because there's always hope? Or because it simply doesn't matter how screwed things are?
Reply
But leaning more towards the latter.
What's your philosophy?
Do you follow the same way of thinking?
[Because even if the land around Midgar is dead and dry, travel a while out. The world becomes beautiful again and riddled with life. Suffering has an ending point somewhere - it just takes some moving on to get to it.]
Reply
[Waiting may bring fortune back again, traveling may lead you to a flower field away from a dried land. But what stops you from working to make that dried land a flower field by yourself?]
Reply
It gives incentive.
It gives life.
And not everyone just sits and dreams. Others do try to reach for them.
Reply
Leave a comment