All Your Lives Are Moments

[arrayed_back]

Characters:  Riza Hawkeye (arrayed_back ) and YOU
When:  March 6 - March 12
Where:  Her Dreamscape
Rating:  PG-R, she doesn't have all nice memories.  Expect emotional trauma and violence.  And general unhappiness, though some might crop up.
Summary:  Welcome to Riza's past and memories.  She doesn't expect you to enjoy your stay.  And kindly stay away from her

Comments

[golden_hawke]

Hawke's on high alert as he approaches the house. However, he has no idea how to get inside because he's not accustomed to people locking their doors, much less hiding the key somewhere.

He walks around the perimeter of the house, listening to the voices but not making much out of them. Usually if one paid more attention to the spirits, they would latch onto you and cause more trouble.

[arrayed_back]

The voices inside fade in and out as the internal argument seems to go on without a resolution, but in the back yard Hawke will come across an overgrown garden, the plot squared off by logs. If he doesn't look carefully at it, however, a woman will appear out of the corner of his eye.

She's blonde, with her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail, and she digs in that garden, pausing a moment to wipe some sweat from her forehead.

And quietly, just on the wind, a voice is heard. "Riza, can you hand me that..."

[golden_hawke]

Hawke listened, wondering who the owner of the voice was. He stepped closer, watching the the woman as she continues to garden. He didn't interfere yet as he knew how dreams usually played out. Disturbing them too much could potentially hurt the dreamer. The last thing he wanted to do was harm his sister.

[beforethearray]

The woman looked up and, with a gasp, disappeared. However, if Hawke had looked closely, he would see that she looked very much like Riza, though her eyes were smaller and her face was more plain and paler.

As soon as she disappeared, a little form of Riza came to the woman's previous position. Her eyes were wide and she dropped the packet of seeds that she had carried for the woman. She looked around and spoke, quietly, "...Mama?"

[general_mustang]

This house. It baffled him to wonder why he'd here - but the thought is gone as soon as it registers. After all, if he's here he has business, clearly.

The key is under the concrete planter, and he knows that - so why the hesitation to invite himself in when the invitation has been open for so many years is also, baffling.

Still, he'll unlock the door, and let himself in - cautious, careful, aware. The estate always had his presence, lingering like a bad smell - but with understanding of the things that went on in here; the shudder down your back tended to mean so much more.

"... Riza?"

[arrayed_back]

The house is empty, even if there are some lights on. The interior is as it has always been, however, the wood dark from age and candle smoke and whatever horrible memories stick to it. The smell of mold is strong at first, but the longer you stay inside, the more you grow used to it.

Even so, the lack of people inside is disconcerting, especially considering that there are voices coming from the study. They are not loud enough to hear distinct words from where Roy is, but if he walks closer, it will become evident that one is a man and one is a woman.

[general_mustang]

If there are voices, Roy is only going to make his way toward them, careful steps until he's at the door.

It's funny, to be here again - so he pushes the door without a second thought.

[beforethearray]

He will find Master Hawkeye sitting at his desk, studying papers, open books, all sorts of things, as well as taking notes wherever they would make the most sense.

But there is a woman standing in front of the desk, seemingly unaffected by the man's work. She has light blonde hair.

"...She has something to show you."

The man doesn't look up. "Is it important?"

"Berthold." The woman sighs and takes a step closer, resting her hands on his. "She made it just for you

[halflingfox]

Fox doesn't recognise this place at all, and when in doubt, search the place. It takes her a while to get the idea to move the concrete planter, and it takes a bit of doing to move it, too. Nonetheless, once she gets the key in hand she unlocks the door and steps inside, wondering what there is to see in here.

[arrayed_back]

The house is empty, even if there are some lights on. The interior is as it has always been, however, the wood dark from age and candle smoke and whatever horrible memories stick to it. The smell of mold is strong at first, but the longer you stay inside, the more you grow used to it. It isn't cluttered inside, but it isn't exactly organized, either. Some books lay open on the chair in the corner or on the coffee table in the middle of the living room, and random papers are scattered in the same areas. There are few pictures on the wall, though one seems to be a family portrait, hanging crookedly on the wall above the fireplace

[halflingfox]

There's got to be a logical progression through the house, and Fox intends to investigate in that order. Especially with the somewhat screwy nature of space lately, she wants to keep an eye on where she's been and where she's going. She heads for the nearest sound of voices, though, keen on investigating and finding out more about the house's inhabitants.

[arrayed_back]

The door to the study on her right is closed, but unlocked, and those voices are inside, though if Fox gets closer, she'll realize that the woman's voice has become higher-pitched, as if she were suddenly younger. The man's is the same, though.

The volume is the same, except for numerous pauses filled with an uncomfortable silence.

[sleightofhearts]

Nevermind the whispers. If there's one thing he's used to, it's whispers. Tyki isn't going to think to look for a key first. And why should he, when he can choose what he can and can't touch?

Perhaps, whoever lives here, just has a flair for creepy houses. The first thing Tyki is going to do is find the kitchen, and attempt to walk through the wall to get inside.

[arrayed_back]

The house has never dealt with anyone who can walk through walls before, so there are no precautions against it. Inside, the house is empty, even if there are some lights on. The interior is as it has always been, however, the wood dark from age and candle smoke and whatever horrible memories stick to it. The smell of mold is strong at first, but the longer you stay inside, the more you grow used to it. It isn't cluttered, but it isn't exactly organized, either. Some books lay open on the chair in the corner or on the coffee table in the middle of the living room, and random papers are scattered in the same areas. There are few pictures on the wall, though one seems to be a family portrait, hanging crookedly on the wall above the fireplace.

The kitchen is at the back of the house, past the stairs and through the dining room. Or, for Tyki, through a few walls, if he so chooses.

[sleightofhearts]

It reminds him of a man's study. How, usually, they tend to be in a state of perpetual organized chaos. Where nothing makes sense, and yet everything has its own place. Tyki actually can't smell the mold, or the candle smoke - as many years and cigarettes as he's been through, some of his senses have dulled over time.

But the portrait does catch his eye, and he saunters toward it, leaning in to peer closely at the contents between the frames.

"My, my... the housekeeper has gotten lazy," and he reaches out to try to straighten the portrait.

Should that result in nothing, he'll turn in his spot and make his way toward the kitchen - not sure why he's wanting to investigate it, perhaps he's just hungry - at a leisurely sort of pace, disregarding the walls as he phases through them.

[arrayed_back]

The portrait does nothing, though when he looks at it, Tyki will see a man, a woman, and a baby captured in time. The man is tall and lanky, with his light brow hair pulled back from his face, and the woman is pale and pretty, though in a plain way, with her light blonde hair also pulled back conservatively. The baby is wrapped up with only her face visible, so it is hard to tell what else she looks like. Neither parent is smiling

[mere_shopkeeper]

Dead plants were boring and pretty much useless. Not so much concrete planters besides locked doors. Which is why Urahara's bending down, running his fingers along the edge of it before lifting it up, hand sliding underneath, searching... Ah!

Straightening with key in hand, he lets himself into the house, shutting the door behind him with a whistle before dropping the key into one of his pockets and turning to track down those voices.

[arrayed_back]

Inside, the house is empty, even if there are some lights on. The interior is as it has always been, however, the wood dark from age and candle smoke and whatever horrible memories stick to it. The smell of mold is strong at first, but the longer you stay inside, the more you grow used to it. It isn't cluttered, but it isn't exactly organized, either. Some books lay open on the chair in the corner or on the coffee table in the middle of the living room, and random papers are scattered in the same areas. There are few pictures on the wall, though one seems to be a family portrait, hanging crookedly on the wall above the fireplace.

The living room is quieter than the rest of the house, ironically, and there are some whispers from upstairs, but the study and dining room have some of the louder mutterings. And even past those rooms, toward the back corner of the house, the occasional loud commotion can be heard.

[mere_shopkeeper]

Urahara gets distracted by the texts on alchemy that are spread out around the house, an excellent way to keep the scientist occupied and away from thoughts and memories that aren't his own. Except for the fact that after flipping through some of them curiously, perhaps even hefting one up, he's moving on, reading while walking, a skill he had mastered a while ago. And while his attention may seem to be focused on the book, his eyes are darting around again, his feet straying from the path and bringing him over to the family portrait. It gets a long calculating look, the young girl in the picture surveyed with a particularly long one, before he moves away again, towards the study this time.

[arrayed_back]

If Urahara makes any connection between the texts, he will notice that they all seem to point to flame alchemy, or at least have sections that pertain to such an art. They are not destructive theories or tips, but instead more useful applications for fire when the needed materials may not always be around. There are also notes scribbled in the margins, but they are in a unique shorthand, not in the same language as the text, or even any recognizable language.

The girl is so young that she's a baby in the portrait, but looking closely enough will give anyone the impression that she looks like what a Riza baby would look like, especially since her mother is holding her. She looks similar to her mother, but not quite the same. Riza gets some features from her father, also in the image. Their hair is pulled back simply and they don't smile.

There are still quiet voices in the study, a man and a young girl. It doesn't sound like they're arguing, but there is still a tense air around the room.