http://auncyenhalig.livejournal.com/ (![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png)
auncyenhalig.livejournal.com) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
onepassingnight2011-04-24 11:02 pm
auncyenhalig.livejournal.com) wrote in onepassingnight2011-04-24 11:02 pm
☄ dissecting dreams
[ Aerith writhes on the operating table against the bonds that hold her down, squinting at the harsh glare of the light above her. She's scared.
She's ... so ... scared. And she can't remember when reality ended for her, or if she's still in it. Tseng was going to take her to the labs, so maybe this is her new reality. She wants to scream Why?, but she already knows. It's only been his mission, and her nightmare, for the last fifteen years.
At least he let her go this long. He let her save Marlene.
Please, someone save me! Cloud!
No one is coming. She's heard the sniggering and all too giddy explanation of how the Ancient could finally be "properly examined". She was ready, as much as anyone could be, for the clinical undressing and observation, the cold and callous fingers on her skin, and she'd kept up protests even though he only ever listened to hypotheses and results.
She had not been prepared for the scalpel. When it cuts into her, she doesn't scream but cry silently --
I'm scared
-- and she hates it. She isn't supposed to be here. She isn't supposed to be so afraid. She'd promised herself she'd never be that helpless little girl from the labs again.
I can't do anything ... I can't move ... If this isn't real ... why can't I wake up?
The hand holding the scalpel applies more pressure, sinking the blade further in, and Aerith jolts, wide-eyed --
I'm not helpless! You're not the one in charge here!
-- and makes herself stop feeling fear or pain or really, much of anything at all. ]
✯
The funny thing about dreaming is that you can be anyone you want and a few you don't, and sometimes your subconscious simply isn't on your side.
✯
[ The crying stops.
Aerith eyes the deep incision from the scalpel, then calmly pulls it out. Turning from the body on the table, she washes the instrument off before setting it aside ... it's now that the dream enters Passing. ]
✯
Hello ~
[ There is an operating table. You are on it, faced up to a harsh white light. A similarly harsh smell of chemicals lingers nearby.
You may struggle. The straps are tight enough to make it useless. ]
Don't be scared, please. [ It is a calm voice; it comes from the same direction as a figure in a lab coat, pink popping out in contrast to the plain white. Aerith steps forward and rests a scalpel to the side, smiling down at the new subject, though the gesture seems a little sad. The old one just didn't last ... ] It doesn't help.
[ But why should she be scared? She's the one in charge here. ]
She's ... so ... scared. And she can't remember when reality ended for her, or if she's still in it. Tseng was going to take her to the labs, so maybe this is her new reality. She wants to scream Why?, but she already knows. It's only been his mission, and her nightmare, for the last fifteen years.
At least he let her go this long. He let her save Marlene.
Please, someone save me! Cloud!
No one is coming. She's heard the sniggering and all too giddy explanation of how the Ancient could finally be "properly examined". She was ready, as much as anyone could be, for the clinical undressing and observation, the cold and callous fingers on her skin, and she'd kept up protests even though he only ever listened to hypotheses and results.
She had not been prepared for the scalpel. When it cuts into her, she doesn't scream but cry silently --
I'm scared
-- and she hates it. She isn't supposed to be here. She isn't supposed to be so afraid. She'd promised herself she'd never be that helpless little girl from the labs again.
I can't do anything ... I can't move ... If this isn't real ... why can't I wake up?
The hand holding the scalpel applies more pressure, sinking the blade further in, and Aerith jolts, wide-eyed --
I'm not helpless! You're not the one in charge here!
-- and makes herself stop feeling fear or pain or really, much of anything at all. ]
The funny thing about dreaming is that you can be anyone you want and a few you don't, and sometimes your subconscious simply isn't on your side.
✯
[ The crying stops.
Aerith eyes the deep incision from the scalpel, then calmly pulls it out. Turning from the body on the table, she washes the instrument off before setting it aside ... it's now that the dream enters Passing. ]
Hello ~
[ There is an operating table. You are on it, faced up to a harsh white light. A similarly harsh smell of chemicals lingers nearby.
You may struggle. The straps are tight enough to make it useless. ]
Don't be scared, please. [ It is a calm voice; it comes from the same direction as a figure in a lab coat, pink popping out in contrast to the plain white. Aerith steps forward and rests a scalpel to the side, smiling down at the new subject, though the gesture seems a little sad. The old one just didn't last ... ] It doesn't help.
[ But why should she be scared? She's the one in charge here. ]
no subject
Shira's body has had its share of reconstruction - nearly being crushed by a guardian servitor will do that to a woman - but she was still as tough as always, and had no shame about the various scars, wounds, and bruises adorning her body. ]
Fear denies faith. [ She nearly spat it out, trying best to remain composed; to remember her training. Someone has to know she was kidnapped. Calpurnia was not just some random civilian off of of the street... ] My faith shall be my shield...
Sorry for the lateness D: