[001 ☿] Normal Human Dreams

[waterfell]

It's a lovely day at the local park. People are nibbling at ice cream, children are running and laughing, it could be any park anywhere though the people, the kana on a few signs, and the cityscape suggest Japan; specifically, Tokyo

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[auncyenhalig]

There is a young woman by the side of the lake, preoccupied by the water lilies floating at the edge. Her hand reaches out to touch them as she admires; a pink parasol with yellow flowers blocks her from the sky. As pleasant as the park is with so many enjoying themselves, she seems lost in her own world...

Until the screaming starts. She rushes to her feet, nearly stumbles, and pulls her parasol shut as two of the dark figures approach her. In her hands, convenient shade becomes convenient defense as she lashes out with the rod. But lack of experience and confidence make her yell, "Please, someone help!"

She's not sure she can do this alone.

[waterfell]

Before long, there's a sword lashing out along with Aerith's rod. Mercury is, to say the least, surprised someone has decided to stand and fight - but it's the same sort of surprise she'd feel over a particularly thrilling accomplishment. It's good that humans (as she assumes for now) should learn to be able to defend themselves as well.

"You're pretty bold!" she calls out to her new ally when she has a moment to take a breath. "I like that."

[auncyenhalig]

In the context of a dream, Mercury's appearance goes unquestioned; she's help, and that's exactly what Aerith wants. The compliment elicits a smile from the flower girl despite the surrounding danger.

"I wouldn't be anything else," she calls back. She holds herself carefully, on guard for any more strikes. "They make us tough under the plate."

She can't help but think how strange it is. They aren't under the plate. They aren't on it, either. This place isn't a place anywhere in Midgar.

I must be dreaming. Why is it disappointing to realize that? At least she's not in real peril.

[waterfell]

Under the plate? At first she thinks it's a metaphor for armor, something like that. But this isn't really time to ask for sure. She gives a crisp nod, and works her way over so that she's roughly back to back with Aerith.

After all, it's only practical. Less space for enemy attacks.

She strikes a blow with her sword against the air; it releases a wave of energy that takes out a couple approaching shadows.

[moonlit_voice]

[Now, this was interesting. At first Sin had just been relaxing watching the boats drift aimlessly across the lake. He hovered in the air, seated there almost as if some invisible chair floated there. Then suddenly the screams began and shadows began to attack...

He frowned at this. They reminded him too much of their own troubles back in the real world of Aether. They had their own run of dark creatures to compete with at the moment.

And well, he wasn't really suited to fighting. So should he just sit back and watch the battle unfold? Perhaps so, he was sure he would enjoy it. He drifted a little closer to the action, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible. Which was difficult for a Spirit such as himself.]

[waterfell]

[He doesn't fit with the people, that much is certain. But he doesn't resemble the lemures, either, which is the only reason Mercury's sword stays pointed at him briefly rather than striking.]

Who's there?

[It doesn't, she admits to herself, particularly rankle her that he's playing watcher; she's been known to do the same in her slightly younger days. But if he's with the enemy...]

[moonlit_voice]

[When the sword appears before him he can't help but raise his hands defensively. She had almost caught him off guard! Almost. But though she was poised to strike, now Sin knew she was there it would be an easy task to avoid the blade. He gave a little wave.]

Nobody important. Shouldn't you be paying attention to those dark creatures right now?

[waterfell]

[She asks it bluntly, because she'll have time for games later.]

Are you with them?

[guiltapalooza]

The scream was Willow, because she's having a nightmare.

For her, being helpless as a monster attacks is a definite nightmare. She's on her knees on the shore of the lake, skirt spread out around her, distressed and hands shaking as a knife slips from her fingers. It thumps uselessly on the ground.

"No, no, why isn't my magic working? My magic has to be working! I can't do this, not again! I have to help! Someone--" She hates calling to ask someone to save her, is angry as much as she is scared, but the desperation of the moment overcomes her rational sense.

you are a cruel, cruel mun. i like it. XD

[waterfell]

This is what she was born and bred to do, over thousands of years ago, no matter what's changed or what she's forgotten or forsaken of it. She was meant to answer those calls for help, she was meant to protect.

There's a body between Willow and the nearest shadows, a body clothed in an odd shirt-skirted uniform, a body connected to a sword. Mercury looks down the length of her sword.

"Your opponent is me!" she tells the creatures.

LOL it's her canon point, man. it had to happen.

[guiltapalooza]

Willow scuttles across the grass to a safer vantage point behind a large rock, trying to take control of her breathing. She's fought beside - or rather behind - Buffy enough to know to get out of the way.

Her lips press together in frustration. "This isn't happening," she mutters to herself, then calls out more loudly, "Do you know what this thing is? What's it weak against?"

<33

[waterfell]

The answer is not reassuring.

"They're lemures; the nightmares of the dead." Willow may recognize the term from myth; though as always, myths change slightly from reality.

She didn't answer their weaknesses; one method was a good as another, with them. They were beatable, by various forms of magic and elemental attacks or even sheer physical strength and weapons. But she was already busy with the next few.

The lemures were not, it turned out, exceedingly strong. The problem was their numbers. They came in groups, waves, swarms.

"Dark Rhapsody!" An ethereal harp shimmered into her hands; she strummed it and the lemures shrieked and howled as the nearest wave dissipated.