In the Shadows
Who: Tiir Rumibul, OPEN
What: Sleep evades him, so a walk it is. Will memories surface, or will they be just as elusive as in dreams?
When: Wednesday, late night
Where: The Cathedral, Blutige Rosen
Warnings: PG-13
Status: In Progress
As they had every night since he'd arrived in the city, the dreams came. It was like watching the world pass by through a pinhole, where you could make out things happening if you looked close enough, but at the same time the edges blurred and you could never make out the important details. Faces never came into focus, all sound echoed, barely intelligible as they gave the impression that you were hearing them spoken from the bottom of a well or down a deep tunnel. It was impossible to tell whether the moments were happy or sad, laughter giving way to screams, angry shouts blending with tones of sadness and disappointment...
With such things going through his mind, it was difficult to get any real rest. Tiir had woken up for the third time that night in a cold sweat, desperately grasping for the fading scenes in his mind as the cool darkness settled around him. The old, stone house was a poor choice for winter lodging without a good fire to warm the room, but the chill was far from his mind, as was any hope of sleep.
He'd gone out. It was well into the night, the moon barely a sliver in the clouded, dark sky, but with so much white blanketing the ground, there was enough reflected light to navigate by. It wasn't as though he had a set destination in mind; he just needed to do something, to clear his thoughts. He made way well out of the woods where the old stone edifice was, and now the sprawling streets flanked by buildings of assorted shapes and sizes started to look more and more familiar as he neared the city's heart.
How long had it been now? A month? Nearly two? He wasn't entirely certain, but it bothered him that for so much time he hadn't been able to remember even his name. A bitter smile pulled across his face; no, not even a name to go by that he'd settled for some random one given him by a boy that hadn't even been in the city a week. Shiki, was it? Well, for now, Shiki he would be.
And now the looming, shadowy shape of the ancient cathedral stood over him, a distinctive form even in darkness. Only the snow betrayed "Shiki's" passing, steps sunk into the snow, belonging to a figure clad head to toe in black that he might as well have been part of the structure's shadows, seeking its place. He'd only come by the place a few times, but only recently had he really approached it. It had, until then, been a marker and nothing more. But there was something that poked at his memories, just as Zion's name had. He entered, just as the sky began to dust the world below with fresh snow.
The interior of the cathedral was just as cold as outside, and while the air did not seem the stale type that resulted from being confined within such spaces, there was, without a doubt, the lingering, subtly metallic scent of blood. Imagined? Reality? Regardless, it spoke sharply to his mind, delving into the muddied memories, sifting through them like sand between fingers.
The ground..... practically red in my wake..
What: Sleep evades him, so a walk it is. Will memories surface, or will they be just as elusive as in dreams?
When: Wednesday, late night
Where: The Cathedral, Blutige Rosen
Warnings: PG-13
Status: In Progress
As they had every night since he'd arrived in the city, the dreams came. It was like watching the world pass by through a pinhole, where you could make out things happening if you looked close enough, but at the same time the edges blurred and you could never make out the important details. Faces never came into focus, all sound echoed, barely intelligible as they gave the impression that you were hearing them spoken from the bottom of a well or down a deep tunnel. It was impossible to tell whether the moments were happy or sad, laughter giving way to screams, angry shouts blending with tones of sadness and disappointment...
With such things going through his mind, it was difficult to get any real rest. Tiir had woken up for the third time that night in a cold sweat, desperately grasping for the fading scenes in his mind as the cool darkness settled around him. The old, stone house was a poor choice for winter lodging without a good fire to warm the room, but the chill was far from his mind, as was any hope of sleep.
He'd gone out. It was well into the night, the moon barely a sliver in the clouded, dark sky, but with so much white blanketing the ground, there was enough reflected light to navigate by. It wasn't as though he had a set destination in mind; he just needed to do something, to clear his thoughts. He made way well out of the woods where the old stone edifice was, and now the sprawling streets flanked by buildings of assorted shapes and sizes started to look more and more familiar as he neared the city's heart.
How long had it been now? A month? Nearly two? He wasn't entirely certain, but it bothered him that for so much time he hadn't been able to remember even his name. A bitter smile pulled across his face; no, not even a name to go by that he'd settled for some random one given him by a boy that hadn't even been in the city a week. Shiki, was it? Well, for now, Shiki he would be.
And now the looming, shadowy shape of the ancient cathedral stood over him, a distinctive form even in darkness. Only the snow betrayed "Shiki's" passing, steps sunk into the snow, belonging to a figure clad head to toe in black that he might as well have been part of the structure's shadows, seeking its place. He'd only come by the place a few times, but only recently had he really approached it. It had, until then, been a marker and nothing more. But there was something that poked at his memories, just as Zion's name had. He entered, just as the sky began to dust the world below with fresh snow.
The interior of the cathedral was just as cold as outside, and while the air did not seem the stale type that resulted from being confined within such spaces, there was, without a doubt, the lingering, subtly metallic scent of blood. Imagined? Reality? Regardless, it spoke sharply to his mind, delving into the muddied memories, sifting through them like sand between fingers.
The ground..... practically red in my wake..