004 ♔ DREAM;
Effects: A jarring mix of anticipation and resignation, and more nostalgia.
( And you cast no shadow, there is no-one walking with you, in your footsteps. )
( And you cast no shadow, there is no-one walking with you, in your footsteps. )
Comments 128
the core of the problem being: he doesn't think.
he just gets up and starts his way through the house, wanting to do nothing more than barge into (his) that room and do something about this dreamberry predicament. but, ah, there isn't much he can do about its irritating need to broadcast people's private dreams to everyone. (and there's nothing he can do to stop himself from watching those dreams because there might be something wrong that, perhaps, he can fix.) so, really, all he can do is-
-- walk right up to the door and twist the handle hard enough to make it snap and break after he opens the door. so Suzaku just stands there, stupefied despite the fact that he's not the one with an idiot in the doorway, mouth open ( ... )
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The symbolism is fairly clear cut, he thinks, but there's always more to it than that. The shades of grey, he thinks, with another thin little smile. There are footsteps outside and he doesn't care to look up, they don't shake him from his reverie - but the loud snap at the door does, and he straightens, glancing quickly to the doorway and the figure standing there. His movement is alert, ready, but his expression remains mild, bemused.
He blinks at Suzaku - for it is Suzaku, even if it's dark he can tell that much - and then smiles, the expression minute but pleasant, dryly amused.]I suppose I should have expected the ( ... )
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[ and then he just gives up and lets out a sigh, seeing no point in arguing with him when he distinctly remembers walking on a 'thin line' as Zero (half out of his mind and in need of the thrill) while maids tried to plead with him to get him down, despite their initial fear (Lord Zero, that's dangerous! or something like that, he thinks). glancing around, he looks for a place to set the broken attachment, eventually getting tired of looking and just setting it elsewhere.
he starts again, then: ] Yeah. I underestimated my strength when I was opening the door- not appropriate for one such as Zero, I guess. [ and he does just guess, because Lelouch has never has this sort of barbaric strength.
there's a testing glance over at Schneizel, nothing wary or suspicious just- concerned, if even just a little bit. Suzaku doesn't like prying into people's business, doesn't like watching their dreams, but sometimes- sometimes it's a necessary thing when you want to know what's ( ... )
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[His voice is a rapier in a silk sheath, but he decides not to pursue hiw fairly usual pattern of verbal sparring. There's no need for it, not now, and Suzaku's appearance is almost endearing. The sharpness in his manner is thusly tempered, turning softer, more chiding.] I've little reason to relish a visit from Zero at this hour. A gentler approach will suffice, in future.
[As Suzaku draws closer he notes the concern that knits his brow, and he can see it there, the conflict that lies between a well-meaning curiosity and Suzaku's ever-guilty conscience. Indeed, the struggle is wrought so clearly on his face, in the tension that threads his shoulders, that Schneizel thinks to himself how lucky it is that Suzaku wears a mask. He is many, many things, but an actor isn't one of them, however good he was at keeping his head up ( ... )
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You recall such times as those, don't you?
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I don't. Any recollection I have is too vague to be considered a memory.
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Either way, it's the first time Homura has actually bothered to look at one of the dreams broadcast on these devices. And it's.. a little interesting, she has to admit, although she isn't quite eager at the idea of having her own dreams perhaps displayed on it sometime. ]
... So these are the sort of dreams they broadcast.
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He's not too fond of the idea that strangers can see his dreams, either (though in truth he might like those he knows seeing them even less), but his voice is smiling even if his expression is a little wan.]
Dreams are variable things, miss. You're likely to see a wide variety of them, if you choose to look.
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Choosing to look is an entirely different matter. Just like I have little desire for other people to spy on my dreams, it's not particularly my hobby to take a peek at others' without reason.
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She's unsure how to respond to this, so it'll be just a simple:]
...Schneizel?
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[His voice is low, soft, his smile minute, but there regardless.]
I hope it didn't disturb you in any way.
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[There was no privacy - she hadn't liked realizing that her dream was broadcasted on the network, and she could only imagine how he felt.]
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I am. These dreams are strange and often lingering, but dreams they remain.
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