Dream//Action
It's Mamoru's dream; that much is clear as you can see the back of his head and the set of his shoulders as he walks ahead of you. If he realizes there's someone behind him, he gives no sign.
As for the setting, it's a large, traditional Japanese house, with rooms divided by Shoji screens. The tatami mats on the floor are scattered with refuse from a florist shop -- mostly leaves and soft petals, but underneath are woody stalks and stems cut at sharp angles, and long rose thorns.
Without warning, he makes a sharp turn into a room. It's a bedroom, unoccupied. He turns away from the bed at first, moving toward a sideboard at the far end of the room. There's a cat sitting atop it, proud and strong, jet black with long, silky hair. It leaps down and twines around Mamoru's legs, purring softly, and he steps carefully to avoid it. He opens every drawer -- each is full of neatly stacked darts, their tips glistening. A strong scent of freesias rises before he closes the drawer.
Nothing. He turns back to the bed, and this time it's occupied -- a young girl with blue curls stretched out over the covers, wearing a neat school uniform. She's still, with neither breath nor heartbeat, and her skin has a blue, waxy cast. There's little doubt that she's dead. But when Mamoru walks over to her, her eyes roll open like a baby doll's.
The cat lunges for his ankle, claws sinking in deep. He only bends down to detach it, gently, before nudging it away.
[OOC: Open action for anyone who wants to walk with Mamoru. Visitors can interact with anything except Mamoru himself.]
As for the setting, it's a large, traditional Japanese house, with rooms divided by Shoji screens. The tatami mats on the floor are scattered with refuse from a florist shop -- mostly leaves and soft petals, but underneath are woody stalks and stems cut at sharp angles, and long rose thorns.
Without warning, he makes a sharp turn into a room. It's a bedroom, unoccupied. He turns away from the bed at first, moving toward a sideboard at the far end of the room. There's a cat sitting atop it, proud and strong, jet black with long, silky hair. It leaps down and twines around Mamoru's legs, purring softly, and he steps carefully to avoid it. He opens every drawer -- each is full of neatly stacked darts, their tips glistening. A strong scent of freesias rises before he closes the drawer.
Nothing. He turns back to the bed, and this time it's occupied -- a young girl with blue curls stretched out over the covers, wearing a neat school uniform. She's still, with neither breath nor heartbeat, and her skin has a blue, waxy cast. There's little doubt that she's dead. But when Mamoru walks over to her, her eyes roll open like a baby doll's.
The cat lunges for his ankle, claws sinking in deep. He only bends down to detach it, gently, before nudging it away.
[OOC: Open action for anyone who wants to walk with Mamoru. Visitors can interact with anything except Mamoru himself.]