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onepassingnight2011-06-28 05:16 pm
badbulletshield.livejournal.com) wrote in onepassingnight2011-06-28 05:16 pm
[The Never-Ending Story] - [Act 3]
[ooc: Because I'm indecisive, two separate dreams to choose from! He's skipped back about ten years for both.]
[ The moon is full and bright in the starry night sky above - and the smaller, ill-shapen vampires' moon beside it for once does not dominate the atmosphere with its eerie red glow. All is calm and quiet, away from the expansive manor in the distance (no lights shining in the windows), away from the ruins of pre-Armageddon civilization that dot the countryside, here, still. All except for the slow, steady swish and crunch of footsteps through the tall grass as Abel approaches the thin grove of trees where he's certain he last saw someone moving. Apart from the strange, white uniform he wears, he looks much the same as ever - though his hair is loose about his shoulders, and his glasses and rosaries are nowhere to be seen.
He is also spattered with blood from head to toe, dark red staining his tattered outfit and torn gloves. Underneath, however, he looks dirty and unkempt, but wholly unharmed. ]
Please. Don't be afraid. [ --he says, his voice flat and serious but oddly gentle just the same, as his sharp, blue eyes catch another flicker of movement in the darkness. ]
I'm not here to harm you.
[ It's a beautiful Spring afternoon in the garden. There are bright green leaves stuck in his hair and great big muddy pawprints on his clean, white coat as Abel wanders the statuary-punctuated paths that wind through this lush, flowering land. Tiny petals and white wisps of cotton scatter on a pleasant breeze that follows him into the narrow corridor of a well kept hedge maze, just before he breaks the unbearably pleasant spell of the day by raising his voice in a shout-- ]
Here, boy! Come out, come out, wherever you are-- Oh!
[ He turns back from peering curiously (hopefully) into the maze to see someone else has entered the courtyard - and from where he stands, they appear to be wearing the newly familiar uniform of fellow clergy. As a new inductee to the priesthood, he makes his best effort to look friendly as he flags them down with a wildly waving arm. ]
E-Excuse me! I seem to have lost Miss Caterina's shepherd. Have you seen him? He's about this big - and, uh, all white, though he may have gotten into the mud, today, too.
[ The moon is full and bright in the starry night sky above - and the smaller, ill-shapen vampires' moon beside it for once does not dominate the atmosphere with its eerie red glow. All is calm and quiet, away from the expansive manor in the distance (no lights shining in the windows), away from the ruins of pre-Armageddon civilization that dot the countryside, here, still. All except for the slow, steady swish and crunch of footsteps through the tall grass as Abel approaches the thin grove of trees where he's certain he last saw someone moving. Apart from the strange, white uniform he wears, he looks much the same as ever - though his hair is loose about his shoulders, and his glasses and rosaries are nowhere to be seen.
He is also spattered with blood from head to toe, dark red staining his tattered outfit and torn gloves. Underneath, however, he looks dirty and unkempt, but wholly unharmed. ]
Please. Don't be afraid. [ --he says, his voice flat and serious but oddly gentle just the same, as his sharp, blue eyes catch another flicker of movement in the darkness. ]
I'm not here to harm you.
[ It's a beautiful Spring afternoon in the garden. There are bright green leaves stuck in his hair and great big muddy pawprints on his clean, white coat as Abel wanders the statuary-punctuated paths that wind through this lush, flowering land. Tiny petals and white wisps of cotton scatter on a pleasant breeze that follows him into the narrow corridor of a well kept hedge maze, just before he breaks the unbearably pleasant spell of the day by raising his voice in a shout-- ]
Here, boy! Come out, come out, wherever you are-- Oh!
[ He turns back from peering curiously (hopefully) into the maze to see someone else has entered the courtyard - and from where he stands, they appear to be wearing the newly familiar uniform of fellow clergy. As a new inductee to the priesthood, he makes his best effort to look friendly as he flags them down with a wildly waving arm. ]
E-Excuse me! I seem to have lost Miss Caterina's shepherd. Have you seen him? He's about this big - and, uh, all white, though he may have gotten into the mud, today, too.
Abel's really going to be working for that compassion badge tonight
he's already passed worrying about getting better though. Maybe he was past that even before the white demon of nightmares ran him through the first time and lifted him off his feet on the length of that forever sword -
and that's when the white hair leaning over him registers and this time the sound's a growl when it snarls out of his torn throat. It might only be a puppy's growl by this point but it's still there and he twists against the steel grip even if it rips things inside of his chest that he knows he would need later if he was planning on living. The blood chokes out with the words as he struggles.]
Bastard - why won't you stay dead?
this is his life ;3;
But his grip still falters, just the same, and he retreats no more than a step. (There's nothing dangerous about this dying boy.) Why won't you stay dead?
He shouldn't be surprised, but he is. (Has it even been that long?) He doesn't remember this young man's face, sees no resemblance to anyone he might once have known (time immeasurable having blurred his memories considerably, however, he is not the most reliable), but it's obvious he is still hated.
The weight of his inability to alter the scars he's left on this world is crushing. ]
I'm here for a reason. Will you let me help you or not?
poor Abel - let me make it worse
Tifa? Zack-
[his torn gloves, soaked through with his own blood, scrabble at the decaying leaves on the ground, finding dirt instead of concrete. It's wrong. It's all wrong! His voice comes out ragged, right on the edge of panic.]
Where are they? What did you do with them!?
no subject
[ At least not alive. The gory scene he's left in his wake is also a silent one, though the only lives he has taken tonight were those of other monsters, murderers he'd caught in the act. Belatedly, regrettably.
If there are more bodies he's yet to find, he won't be surprised, but he has no intention of causing any more death, tonight, himself. Still with calm indifference, from behind a ragged, silver fringe of hair he shakes his head slowly. ] And I'm not here to harm you. [ Maybe if he says it enough, it will get through somehow. ]
no subject
He doesn't recognize the white haired man.
Not Sephiroth.
But so close it's scary. Or would be if he had anything left to be scared for.
... Zack... Tifa... His voice comes out small and lost.]
Who... who are you?
no subject
[ A thing of myth in his own world, now, this seems suitable enough an introduction. If he is to remake himself, perhaps it isn't right to cling to the past so -- but it's the past that pushes him onward, if not forward, now.
He rises to his feet, again, the soft crunch of grass and leaves beneath his dirtied white boots loud in the darkness. The look in his own eyes (a far icier blue, but unerringly human) as sincere as it is searching. ]
I am here to protect you. To protect all human beings. [ And again, only a touch softer than before, ] Let me help you.
no subject
The guy was a little late.
Everyone was already dead.
It seemed, even in his sorry state, kind of a rude thing to say though and Cloud knew his mom would be disappointed in him if he was cruel just before he died.
oh...god...
mom...
The lump in his throat made it almost too hard to talk and he swallowed hard against it. Grimacing in what was supposed to be a smile, he managed to look up at the pale man in front of him.]
Think it's a little late to help me... but I've - there's - Tifa... and Zack. They're back at the reactor. He's... he hurt them. And I - I think Tifa's... I think she's...
[his head sank and he didn't know whether he wanted to scream or cry. Dead. She's dead.
He couldn't say it]
They're hurt really bad...
no subject
...Did you come from the manor? [ If that was the case, there was no chance his friends were still alive; the blood on Abel's uniform is still fresh, and there are no signs of life in his wake.
...But if the boy had come from the other direction, were there more killers out there, waiting in the dark? Something unpleasantly pleased at the prospect rose in the back of his mind, ever hopeful for further carnage. ]
There is no one else here.
no subject
No. Past the manor. Up the trail. Very top.
[where the world comes to an end...]
They're near the stairs. I couldn't - I couldn't -
[it might have been a cough or it might have been tears but it was a bubbling sound and he finally slumped forward onto the ground and curled into a ball.]
all I've got left... couldn't - save them... maybe... maybe still can...