(Untitled)

[esoteric_rose]

Characters: Juliet and open
Date/Time: Night of September 18th/early morning of 19th
Location: Dreamspace
Rating: PG to start?
Summary: Juliet and her dreams.

Comments

[fragmentofagod]

He drags his hands in the lake, catching ripples on his fingers and looking for the mask that washed off of Juliet's face.

[esoteric_rose]

The mask is dark, slippery pieces now, black drops that let off long trails of blood-red the longer they float about. She glances over when she hears him, resisting the urge to sit up. The little lavender butterfly has not yet become accustomed enough to stay.

"It makes sense, that you'd be here."

[fragmentofagod]

"Don't you want it?" The skull-shaped mask is important for a reaper, he knows this in his soul.

[esoteric_rose]

"I cannot speak when it is on, it freezes and kills my voice in my throat. I've been wearing it for the past ninety six hours...just one free breath is all I ask." The butterfly seems to have completed its exploration and allows her to sit up now. "It's like breathing smoke and being unable to cough when I'm down there..."

[marrymarajade]

Where there is water there is water vapor. Where there is air it moves, even if slowly, even if it's stale. Where there is any kind of rock there is some form of soil or sand. In those places there is life - or there is where life was, where life may have been, where life could yet be... and in all of these, and in heat, and in light, and in darkness - there is a kind of consciousness.

In some ways it is more alien than any species to live or be built on any world, in any time. But it feels, it thinks, it has a sense of humor. And it remembers.

It remembers him.

He is dead, he is long dead, and he tries not to remember much about this when awake. And yet in the water, in the air, in the sand, in life and where life was/may have been/could be, the consciousness carries him, and remembers him, and when it chooses...

He's here, or something of him, pale and ghostlike and not quite touching the ground. Again? he, or it, says - or thinks - or feels.

[esoteric_rose]

It is the swallowtail that was in her hair that first acknowledges him, flying over to investigate the form in the air. She stirs when it seems confused, sensing something different. Here was the realm of the dead but not, the border, the balance.

She is surprised to see him, and at the same time he does not feel out of place.

"You've come a long way to reach this place."

[marrymarajade]

It doesn't have eyes, really, or a face, really, just faintly glowing suggestions of both, like a painting which from a distance seems to be exquisitely detailed and up close appears crude, simple. In paintings this is intentional - and so it is here.

Have we? the apparition asks, and then, correcting itself, Have I? My senses of place and time are changed... I am changed. Still, the suggestions it has of eyes seem to close.

Some of the butterflies leave the ground around her feet, a few lifting off from her clothes to fly about around the apparition, and through it, passing through a human-shaped form without being slowed. They cast shadows down and reflect light up, as if wafting through a smoky sunbeam.

No - thank you, but I can do it myself, and now he sounds more solid, more real, more like him. The little fliers clear space, and he remembers, and asks the greater consciousness which he is still a part of to remember with him

[esoteric_rose]

"Think not too deeply on either time or place, lest you find yourself too wrapped up in the wherefores of it all."

Physical appearance is little, here. All the flowers could be knives, all the butterflies tongues of fire. Speaking of flowers. She reaches out, beginning to create a crown of them, knowing the ones with the proper meaning and sentiment will be the only ones her hand chooses. They know when they are needed.

Good. He's solid, and this crown will have a place after all. More of the butterflies go to investigate, to take note of the presence. They have been lonely, and they're likely going to stay perched on him for as long as he'll allow.

"...I'm not sure if I've been expecting you, or whether I should welcome you."

[redhead_rabbit]

Well it wasn't often that Rabbit fell asleep but after several nights of reading books, he found himself dozing off for a quick nap amidst the books in he'd hoarded in his room.
------

Rabbit appeared somewhere in the middle of the city wearing his exorcist uniform. He stood stupidly in the middle of the road.

"Sure ain't how I remember it," he stated, his mouth running faster than his mind. What did he remember? Well there was a familiarity about the place. The fog, the bitter chill in the air, the city. The redhead scratched his head then tossed one end of his scarf over his shoulder. It was a bit chilly.

"Wonder where I am."

[esoteric_rose]

Someone was alive. It was confusing, seeing as the fire had been meant to make an example, to kill everything. The figure knows him, but it wonders whether to save him. It does not hold the bonds she does, cannot sing like she does. Debate done, it stops in the street, back to him.

The voice it speaks with is edged, quiet, genderless, formed from black ice and the ever present smoke. Are you waiting for the fire to return?

[redhead_rabbit]

"Fire?" Rabbit blinked. Of course the place looked like it had burned horribly, singed to the ground. It was a battle against the fire the residents had completely lost.

"Can't say I'm waitin' for anything. Just watchin'."

[esoteric_rose]

Let me phrase it a different way. If you stay here, you will die. It is inevitable. It scoffed. Do you want to die?

It began to walk again. If the answer is no, you might want to come this way.

[pinkmoonrabbit]

One moment, she was in the crystal palace, the next some creepy street. Chibiusa looked around cautiously, her heels clicking on the street. She stuck out sorely in her pink princess outfit. It hadn't occurred to her to transform into Sailor Chibi Moon. The dream of Crystal Tokyo had confused her.

"Papa? Oniichan? Anyone?"

[esoteric_rose]

This isn't the place you seek.

As clearly as it knew she was alien to the land, to the realm, it knew that she was not fated to fall to what the city was. And by that logic, it had to save her. Why it had to be such was not questioned, it merely was.

It's not safe here. Come, there is a better place.

[pinkmoonrabbit]

She nearly jumped a mile at the sound of the voice. This was definitely scarier than an empty castle.

"Who's there?" Surely it wasn't the city that was talking. That was silly.

[esoteric_rose]

I am.

The grey cloaked figure raised a hand, using the other to pull the hood farther over its face.

I mean you no harm, milady.