A dream is a wish your heart makes, when you are fast asleep.

[der_hetzer]

Who: der-hetzer and YOU!
When: Friday night
Where: In your dreams.
Summary: Schuldig decides to explore dream scapes a little.
Warnings: Possible creepiness, manipulation and so on.

Comments

[tots_prodigy]

In the several months since he arrived here on his own, whatever shields erected in Nagi's mind for both Schuldig's relative sanity and his own had weakened, but not completely crumbled. The weakness ended up being most apparent in his sleep, of course, when his waking mind couldn't reinforce them through sheer determination.

Keeping his former teammate from sharing his small bed had proved a losing battle. Nagi curled up on his side, for once sleeping at a sane hour rather than during the middle of the day as he had to from time to time thanks to his job. Ken's arrival had brought unpleasant things to mind and they took over his dreams.

Nagi, younger than he'd been when most of Schwarz first saw him, stands in a church and looks on helplessly as Ken buries his claws into a nun's chest. He's got no control over his emotions or his power at this age, so when the death sinks in, a tornado of energy swirls around him and starts to destroy whatever it touches. For the moment, Weiss doesn't seem to notice him.

[der_hetzer]

All things considered, it was no surprise that Nagi's dream would be the first one that Schuldig had wandered into. What was surprising was that he could even get in there in the first place.

My, my, his shields must have weakened. Crawford would be disappointed.

"They just keep taking from you what you find precious. Don't they? Those white hunters."

[tots_prodigy]

Although they'd weakened, nobody else had managed to get through them yet. Nagi hadn't let himself slack off completely with them, just a little since he hadn't expected Schuldig to ever show up although he could typically wander into most of Nagi's mind without effort. Some areas were always blocked, even from him.

If Crawford ever showed up, Nagi would deal with their leader's disappointment as quietly as he generally did.

"They're not the only ones who take things from me," he points out. "They just started it and I can finish it now that he's here." Ken being around makes life a little more interesting again.

[der_hetzer]

"And how do you plan to do that?" Schuldig asked, wrapping an arm around the boy and resting his chin on Nagi's head. The gesture might be brotherly or friendly. If Schuldig did not look like a snake, that was.

[snakeinpants]

Orochimaru had never really been plagued by nightmares until the Third took his arms away from him. Even though the problem had been remedied by a change in body, the nightmares stuck with him, popping up occasionally and often at the least fortunate of moments. Orochimaru did not mind them as much now--they served as nothing but a reminder to always be on guard, that despite how strong he was everything could still be taken away in an instant.

Orochimaru stands amidst shattered roof tiles and trees, his arms hanging limp at his sides. No matter how hard he tries, he cannot use any techniques or will them to move. His face twists into a grimace as agonizing pain lances through him, the Third pulling his soul further out of his body. Orochimaru manages to twitch his fingers and send his sword through the Third's back, but all his former mentor does is open his mouth and laugh. He laughs and laughs and Orochimaru can do nothing but curse him.

[der_hetzer]

And the scene paused, as if frozen in time, as a foreign redhead walked closer to the strange man.

"Frustrating, isn't it?" Schuldig mused, tapering his fingers under his chin, his arms folded over his chest. "To know just how helpless you are."

[snakeinpants]

An involuntary shudder passed through Orochimaru's body as the pain ceased. He looked down at the Shinigami's arm, at his soul in it's grasp in horror. That was until he noticed a strange newcomer approaching him. His eyes narrowed. This wasn't right. The barrier was too strong for anyone to pass through. Had his subordinates...? But no, Orochimaru looked around and saw the barrier through the trees, still keeping everyone else out of his fight.

"Who are you?" If he could have moved his arms, he would have killed this intruder for his impertinence.

[der_hetzer]

"Is that the sort of tone you should take with your savior?" The German asked, amused. Of course, it would take a lot to kill him in dreams. To begin with, to kill somebody in their minds, you would have to convince the mind to convince the body that the person was dead. For a telepath as skilled and powerful as Schuldig was, it would take a lot to beat him at his own game.

[beloved_scars]

He wanted to paint something beautiful for Ritsuka.

And so it manifests in his dreams as an endless, white sheet. A pure canvas that he can paint upon. Soubi kneels on it with his brush, his hair tied back but his glasses a mangled pile of wire and broken glass beside his form.

He has no palate, no oils or ink. No. His materials are, as one could say, more straight from the source. Since there's nothing else, this is what he has to use he makes do. A sliver of glass from his broken glasses does well enough to cut flesh. From his left arm he draws blues, his right green. His legs give a multitude of yellows and oranges.

But he seems to heal almost immediately after making a cut.

The only thing that's constant is the dripping of red from his neck where his usual bandages are missing. 'BELOVED' crowned by a ring of thorns which well and pour forth a steady source of red.

Soubi sits back from his painting, raising his brush to his neck and catching another wash of red which to etch the wings of yet another butterfly.

[der_hetzer]

And that wrist was grabbed, by the strange German who had just appeared behind him, a generous smirk on his face.

"I don't expect to find such an artist here," Schuldig laughed, leaning in to press his tongue against Soubi's bleeding scars, tasting the blood. "Beautiful."

[heartdissonance]

Shijima dreams of infinity and omnipotence

[der_hetzer]

But a calm dream was boring. In the far distance, Shijima would see a stranger, his hair bright like the flames of a fire, walking towards the other woman. He held out a hand towards her. She turned, took it, and in that moment, all the calm was shattered with a loud sound like the breaking of glass, leaving behind only darkness.

"Why so angry?" Schuldig asked, this time from behind Shijima. His hand reached out to caress her hair, the gesture so gentle that he might have been a lover.

[heartdissonance]

The act was less comprehensible than the words. Shijima watched with her fingers at her thighs and her eyes trying to piece everything together. She wanted to remember this sight.

"I hate her. She's a cruel thing." It was stated dully, with the slightest lisp of her tongue meeting too-sharp canines. What has happened here, to all of the wisdom of everything? That was what stood out in her mind.

Finally, her own stillness broke as she turned her head in order to eye Schuldig from over her shoulder. Both her yellow eyes and white hair were a sharp contrast against the now-dark backdrop. "You aren't God," she said clinically; "Coming into this place and changing it with a touch would imply that you are."

[der_hetzer]

In this place, he was God. Not that he would ever used the term around a certain teammate of his. Schuldig had a plan, you see. And the long term one was to stay alive while watching the world burn.

"What makes you think I'm not?" He brought the ends of her hair to his lips, kissing the soft strands. How very different this girl was from their short exchange over the network.

"What do you wish for?"

[meteor_heart]

It was Nibelheim all over again, flame and blood, death and betrayal. She was just as helpless now as she had been then, impotently running from place to place, always just a step behind the faceless killer

[der_hetzer]

Her outburst had only earned her a condescending laugh from behind. If Tifa turned around, she would see Schuldig standing there, strangely nonchalant amidst the destruction, his hands tucked casually into the pocket of his expensive trousers.

"What makes you think you have a say?" He took a step closer. "This is your punishment, Tifa."

[meteor_heart]

Tifa rounded fast, her bloody hands coming up in a fighters garb. Not Sephiroth, but someone she didn't know. "Who are you?!"

[der_hetzer]

You know who I am, he communicated to her mind directly, still relaxed despite the animosity radiating from the girl.

Just as you know why this, Schuldig gestured at the carnage around them, is happening.