Dream 001
[Warnings]: none? really vaguely alluded to death, I guess
[Dream Effects]: a strong sense of warmth, comfort, and contentment, followed by a sharp sense of loss that may linger after the dream ends
Usopp sits on his old work platform in the kitchen of the Going Merry, hunched over the project he’s currently involved in. The very tip of his tongue pokes from the side of his mouth as he concentrates, pulling a fine paintbrush along his work with a steady hand. The room is cheerily lit, with a homey smell of some unrecognized but mouth-watering food baking in the oven.
A shadow falls to the side of him as someone moves closer, and a warm, familiar voice greets him. “Usopp.”
“Hi, Mom!” Usopp looks up, beaming, and he’s both child and not-child; seven and seventeen at the same time in that curious way that only makes sense in dreams.
She smiles back, looking just as pretty as he remembers her before she got sick. “What are you working on?” she asks, leaning forward to get a better view.
“It’s a ship!” he replies, holding out his handiwork for her to examine. In fact, it’s two ships; tiny models that each fit into the palm of a hand. They’re brightly-painted and perfect, the enamel already dry. One bears a sheep as its figurehead, while the other has a stylized lion.
“They look beautiful,” she says in a fond voice, and reaches to lay her hand gently on the top of his head, like she did when he was little. “It looks like you’ve been busy.”
Usopp leans into the touch, setting his project carefully aside. “Real busy! There’s so much to tell you about! I’m a real pirate now, you know, just like Dad!” He pauses for a moment after saying that, because he’s pretty sure she must know this already; he can’t think of a reason why he wouldn’t have mentioned it before. But then she sits beside him, silently urging him to go on with her smile, and he’s off, talking a mile a minute about what he’s been up to since he left Syrup Village, focusing on his friends and crew and all the adventures they’ve been having; all the great stuff she’ll want to hear about and nothing sad.
She listens quietly, only making occasional sounds to let him know she’s suitably impressed or to prompt him to go on, and smiling the whole while-though is there a faint hint of sadness in her expression as she listens? No, surely that’s only his imagination. Finally, though, she touches his arm and he stops speaking, looking up at her as she stands. “I’m sorry, Usopp. I’m feeling a little tired.”
Usopp nods. He understands. “Yeah, that’s okay, Mom. You rest. I’ll tell you the rest later, all right?”
He watches as she walks away, and surprises himself by making a sound that’s suspiciously like a choked-off sob when she’s no longer in sight.
***
When Usopp wakes, the first thing he does is sit up a little in bed and glance across the room to the other bed, giving an inaudible sigh of relief when he sees the shape of Sanji sleeping there. Now he realizes he can hear the wall-rattling snores of Zoro from across the hall, and he lies back down. Usopp curls up into a ball on his side, tugging the blankets around himself tightly, though the night isn’t cold.
[Dream Effects]: a strong sense of warmth, comfort, and contentment, followed by a sharp sense of loss that may linger after the dream ends
Usopp sits on his old work platform in the kitchen of the Going Merry, hunched over the project he’s currently involved in. The very tip of his tongue pokes from the side of his mouth as he concentrates, pulling a fine paintbrush along his work with a steady hand. The room is cheerily lit, with a homey smell of some unrecognized but mouth-watering food baking in the oven.
A shadow falls to the side of him as someone moves closer, and a warm, familiar voice greets him. “Usopp.”
“Hi, Mom!” Usopp looks up, beaming, and he’s both child and not-child; seven and seventeen at the same time in that curious way that only makes sense in dreams.
She smiles back, looking just as pretty as he remembers her before she got sick. “What are you working on?” she asks, leaning forward to get a better view.
“It’s a ship!” he replies, holding out his handiwork for her to examine. In fact, it’s two ships; tiny models that each fit into the palm of a hand. They’re brightly-painted and perfect, the enamel already dry. One bears a sheep as its figurehead, while the other has a stylized lion.
“They look beautiful,” she says in a fond voice, and reaches to lay her hand gently on the top of his head, like she did when he was little. “It looks like you’ve been busy.”
Usopp leans into the touch, setting his project carefully aside. “Real busy! There’s so much to tell you about! I’m a real pirate now, you know, just like Dad!” He pauses for a moment after saying that, because he’s pretty sure she must know this already; he can’t think of a reason why he wouldn’t have mentioned it before. But then she sits beside him, silently urging him to go on with her smile, and he’s off, talking a mile a minute about what he’s been up to since he left Syrup Village, focusing on his friends and crew and all the adventures they’ve been having; all the great stuff she’ll want to hear about and nothing sad.
She listens quietly, only making occasional sounds to let him know she’s suitably impressed or to prompt him to go on, and smiling the whole while-though is there a faint hint of sadness in her expression as she listens? No, surely that’s only his imagination. Finally, though, she touches his arm and he stops speaking, looking up at her as she stands. “I’m sorry, Usopp. I’m feeling a little tired.”
Usopp nods. He understands. “Yeah, that’s okay, Mom. You rest. I’ll tell you the rest later, all right?”
He watches as she walks away, and surprises himself by making a sound that’s suspiciously like a choked-off sob when she’s no longer in sight.
***
When Usopp wakes, the first thing he does is sit up a little in bed and glance across the room to the other bed, giving an inaudible sigh of relief when he sees the shape of Sanji sleeping there. Now he realizes he can hear the wall-rattling snores of Zoro from across the hall, and he lies back down. Usopp curls up into a ball on his side, tugging the blankets around himself tightly, though the night isn’t cold.