Dream [007] I love my dead ghost son
Warning: None
Effects: Very minimal. Emotions written into the dream. The beginning starts with a very powerful swelling of love, which eventually begins to turn into shock and worry, though those are very faint. Love is the prevailing emotion here.
It is seven o'clock in the evening.
The family is gathered in the small living room of their modest cottage, spending one final hour together before the children were herded into bed. Four bodies were crammed together tightly on the couch. With the worn out twins tucked under one hefty arm, the not-yet-promoted Javert takes up a majority of cushion, a rapidly talking Kay sitting halfway in his lap. Her green eyes are fixed intently on his dark sunglasses, her tiny hands wrapped tightly around his free arm.
"And then you can try to catch me, daddy, but you won't be able to cause I'll fly away real fast! Like a bird! I'll be the bestest thief ever!"
The man is staring calmly down at the girl as she continues to gush to him. Though his unreadable expression is hidden behind shades, it isn't hard to imagine him raising an eyebrow at his daughter.
Sitting on the floor in front of the crowd, Naomi is leaning forward on one hand, lavishing her complete attention on her youngest. For all her complaints during pregnancy, she's never looked happier before, a joyful radiance in her smile that is rarely seen from a woman like her.
The eight month old boy she is fawning over shouldn't be recognizable to the residents of Somarium, save a few, but the wild shock of black hair certainly does provide a clue to his identity. Despite the incessant babbling of Kay from behind them, the young mother and her son seem absolutely absorbed in each other's gazes, the woman's hand darting out to delicately tickle his rounded belly. He rewards her with a mirthful gurgle which excites a delighted coo out of the mother.
The change in her demeanor is obvious. Usually so much more distant and reserved with others, Naomi is unusually delicate and affectionate. To see such a radically different side of her feels intrusive.
Tucking her bare legs under herself, Naomi leans low to press a gentle kiss to her son's soft forehead.
But suddenly the baby is gone.
She sits up in a flash, panicked eyes widening at the sudden change in scenery. Though only moments before she had been in lounging with her family in their humble home, Naomi is now sitting carelessly in the remains of her real laboratory, the location still ravaged and scorched from Diva's childish tantrum.
But even stranger is the person in front of her. Standing there is Danny, a teen once again, looking as he always has since the day they first met. "Daniel?" comes her automatic inquiry, but her hands fall limply into her lap as the realization hits her yet again. They aren't even related. He isn't her son. They barely know each other.
His stare back is far too serious. "It's Danny, Naomi." But before she can find her tongue to reply, his voice turns hollow and ghostly, an eerie expression taking over his face. "It was never supposed to be this way." Already he is fading away from her, disappearing from sight like a phantom.
And there's nothing she can do.
[Naomi is used to this game, Somarium. A slim finger is already pushing the button to end the connection, her face tucked down into her pillow.
After so many months it is practically a natural reaction by now.]
Effects: Very minimal. Emotions written into the dream. The beginning starts with a very powerful swelling of love, which eventually begins to turn into shock and worry, though those are very faint. Love is the prevailing emotion here.
It is seven o'clock in the evening.
The family is gathered in the small living room of their modest cottage, spending one final hour together before the children were herded into bed. Four bodies were crammed together tightly on the couch. With the worn out twins tucked under one hefty arm, the not-yet-promoted Javert takes up a majority of cushion, a rapidly talking Kay sitting halfway in his lap. Her green eyes are fixed intently on his dark sunglasses, her tiny hands wrapped tightly around his free arm.
"And then you can try to catch me, daddy, but you won't be able to cause I'll fly away real fast! Like a bird! I'll be the bestest thief ever!"
The man is staring calmly down at the girl as she continues to gush to him. Though his unreadable expression is hidden behind shades, it isn't hard to imagine him raising an eyebrow at his daughter.
Sitting on the floor in front of the crowd, Naomi is leaning forward on one hand, lavishing her complete attention on her youngest. For all her complaints during pregnancy, she's never looked happier before, a joyful radiance in her smile that is rarely seen from a woman like her.
The eight month old boy she is fawning over shouldn't be recognizable to the residents of Somarium, save a few, but the wild shock of black hair certainly does provide a clue to his identity. Despite the incessant babbling of Kay from behind them, the young mother and her son seem absolutely absorbed in each other's gazes, the woman's hand darting out to delicately tickle his rounded belly. He rewards her with a mirthful gurgle which excites a delighted coo out of the mother.
The change in her demeanor is obvious. Usually so much more distant and reserved with others, Naomi is unusually delicate and affectionate. To see such a radically different side of her feels intrusive.
Tucking her bare legs under herself, Naomi leans low to press a gentle kiss to her son's soft forehead.
But suddenly the baby is gone.
She sits up in a flash, panicked eyes widening at the sudden change in scenery. Though only moments before she had been in lounging with her family in their humble home, Naomi is now sitting carelessly in the remains of her real laboratory, the location still ravaged and scorched from Diva's childish tantrum.
But even stranger is the person in front of her. Standing there is Danny, a teen once again, looking as he always has since the day they first met. "Daniel?" comes her automatic inquiry, but her hands fall limply into her lap as the realization hits her yet again. They aren't even related. He isn't her son. They barely know each other.
His stare back is far too serious. "It's Danny, Naomi." But before she can find her tongue to reply, his voice turns hollow and ghostly, an eerie expression taking over his face. "It was never supposed to be this way." Already he is fading away from her, disappearing from sight like a phantom.
And there's nothing she can do.
[Naomi is used to this game, Somarium. A slim finger is already pushing the button to end the connection, her face tucked down into her pillow.
After so many months it is practically a natural reaction by now.]