Come Dreamwalk With Me 5 (Open Log)
Who: Polly (curious_copycat) and anyone who feels like it.
What: Nocturnal Telepathic Shenanigans, Random CR, Drama, Exposition, Crack, Surreal Shite, Whatever You Want.
Where: In Your Head, or Polly's
When: Tonight. (But latecomers are always welcome.)
Warnings: A few of Polly's memories might come with her, and there are monsters in that thar head. Beyond that ( Read more... )
What: Nocturnal Telepathic Shenanigans, Random CR, Drama, Exposition, Crack, Surreal Shite, Whatever You Want.
Where: In Your Head, or Polly's
When: Tonight. (But latecomers are always welcome.)
Warnings: A few of Polly's memories might come with her, and there are monsters in that thar head. Beyond that ( Read more... )
Comments 386
...It is night. It's been long enough that pollution has finally left the sky. You can see the stars. You are standing near a river, leaning against a chain link fence that separates you from the bank below.
It's fenced off and barred for a reason. It's not like you'd want to go down, anyway. When you look at the water through the gaps in the gate, a feeling of panic overtakes you and you can't explain whyEven the beautiful, architectural bridges that cut across the river to the other side of the city are locked and chained with gates and signs. There's no more ways to cross it anymore, not by land or sea; it'd be far too ( ... )
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What was this place? The stars overhead were somewhat familiar--Friends had shared Earth nights with her once or twice. She glanced out over the river to whatever was beyond, wondering if she might catch sight of lucioles. Neither is the eerie silence of the streets terribly new. That was not so different from the city which "lived" in her own memories. It was almost a comfort, that familiarity.
Hearing the music and laughter, she slowly turned. It was this unfamiliar thing that drew her now, in particular, and she started toward it, away from the river and darkness toward something that promised brightness, following wherever the sound may lead.
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[The man's shock brings her up short, just outside the ring of lamplight. She stands very still, the smile that had been on her face fading to mild concern.]
Oh--please don't stop playing. It was lovely!
[Her eyes wander a moment, taking in the dark buildings in the moonlight, then back to the family. She wonders which of them is having the dream. Until she finds out, she'll just have to address them all.]
Could you... please tell me where we are?
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Then, finally, change:
The breeze smells like citrus--a lemon tree.]
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After all, it was mostly the same:
Ryuuken's attempts to deny him what he truly believed was his birthright; Sensei's death at the hands of hollows as he hide like a coward nearby, so scared and frightened to do much else.
The photograph that the sadistic bastard of a captain of the Twelfth Division had shown him, the one that showed what had remained of his Grandfather's soul after the Captain had completed his damned researchVarious random Hollow attacks, sometimes with the others and sometimes not; although he dreaded the ones where Kurosaki, Inoue, Sado or the others were there, because he had always been too little, too late, powerless to stop them because he had been a fool and couldn't let go of his pride long enough to keep his powers ( ... )
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[At least this might buy them some time before his dreams found them again.]
[Once the marble was solid beneath their feet, she let go of his shoulder and took a step back.]
Are you alright?
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I am.
[After all, it's nothing he hasn't gone through before.]
What did you do?
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Well, you were in trouble, so I took us someplace safe... ish.
[The streets of Calabi-Yau had their own dangers. But she'd brought him to a section of the city where nothing bad had happened to her. If her memories behaved--which, admittedly they hadn't, lately, at least not in certain situations--that mean this place was safer than most.]
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It's a memory, one that Love can never forget.
One girl is dressed in girl and white and has long, pale blonde pigtails. The other looks far more sinister, dressed in black and red. Both are fighting with a lot of emotion. There are two other girls, one with blue hair and another with brown hair, and two strange creatures one resembling a ferret, watching on the sidelines. This doesn't seem to be a fight between sworn enemies but more like one between torn friends.
The one is black is shouting many things, but what sticks out the most, resonates through the dream loud and clear:]
"Always stupid and grinning and carefree... That's why I- I was always-!"
[they charge at each other once again]
"So envious!"
[their punches meet and they both fall to the ground. The other figures are running to them, but the two seem almost content, breathing heavily on grass and clovers ( ... )
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[Hesitantly, as they walk away, she follows. She isn't sure which of the girls is having the dream--she hasn't met any of them--but she's curious to see where things are going to go next.]
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"Is that...?"
[the girl in looks and gets excited]
That's amazing, Setsuna! Only someone truly looking for happiness can find a four-leaf clover!
"Truly looking for happiness..."
[the girl in pink picks the clover and presents it to the other girl]
It's still not too late! Here, take your happiness!
[the girl in black seems reluctant]
This is what you found, Setsuna. Here!
[finally the girl in black stares at it again and tentatively reaches a hand out]
"The happiness... I found..."
[but then abruptly she stops, eyes gone wide. The girl in pink watches in confusion as suddenly her friend falls forward, face first on the ground, no longer breathing.]
...Setsuna? Hey, come on! What's wrong? [she starts nudging her] Setsuna, wake up!
[but the other girl remains there, motionless and dead ( ... )
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Are you alright?
[She looks around the once-green world, heart sinking at what it's become. She didn't understand why...]
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He dreamt of the past, tonight. The recent past. A moment that escaped him, one that was ingrained into his mind for a very, very long while. Everything was off, but he hadn't noticed.
He stood at a poolside. It was indoors, and cold, and reeked of chlorine, and it stretched on forever. Running shoes lined the edges of the pool, all identical to each other, all placed neatly and purposefully.
Sherlock was here for a reason. When he spoke, his voice echoed loudly, rippling the water in the pool.]
Brought you a little getting-to-know-you present.
[he looked around, as if waiting for something to happen. The door behind him, the one he used to enter (at least, he thought he did. There were many doors.), had a bright exit sign above it. It ( ... )
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[She takes a step back, but the water's flowing in from the other way, too, now.]
[And it's rising.]
[The girl panics and runs for the wide stairs that she knows wait at the end of the hall, but the water is faster, and washes up over her head.]
[When she breaks the surface again, she's someplace else, and she's too busy sputtering to realize she's not alone.]
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He whirls around to see what the commotion is, and sees a woman. Images and associations rush at him: fox, violin, pink, grass in the park, on and on and on. Finally a name. Polly.
He doesn't know what to think, and makes his way to the edge of the pool, offering an extended hand. He's frowning, and a stray shoe that lines the edge falls into the chlorine water, and disappears beneath the cold surface]
What are you doing here?! [his voice echoes down the never-ending stretch of room]
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Drowning.
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