onepassingnight | [001] → the house

She's not the type to be disturbed here. Sailor Lethe lives at the end of the galaxy, where people come to leave behind everything and forget themselves before they start their next life. Just as she holds few things to be of value - she knows just how impossible it is to take it with you - she has few fears.

So Lethe ignores the whisperings, the dank dark, the chill. Her river is hot, but this is fine, too.

"You've been brought here for a reason you know best," she says. "Something inside you drew you here." And after a brief pause, "What was it?"

Startled, Violet snaps out of her musing to look at the stranger. Her eyes travel Lethe up and down, trying to decide what to think of this person. She doesn't look like she's one of the ghosts... there aren't any wounds, anyway.

"I--" she begins, not exactly sure why she's responding, "... I don't know. I'm looking for someone, I think."

Violet nods, slowly at first, and then with certainty. "Yeah, there's someone I'm trying to find. But this place... I mean, it's always weird, but something feels different about it."

"Do they often come here?" It's a reasonable question, on the face of it. But in a dream, much like at her river, it can become so difficult to remember things, to find the logic between the search and the location.

Lethe glances towards the tub, and various of the the other objects. "Is this place meaningful to them?"

"He--"

She stops, seemingly confused by something. The face of the person had flashed across her mind: a young man with messy, blonde hair. But, she couldn't remember his name. It was right there, on the tip of her tongue! But her brain felt foggy, as if everything was working much more slowly than usual.

"... I think so," she finished, frowning.

"What sort of person is he?" It's a natural question, of course; and she's not particularly engaged in asking it, but she lets it stand and waits for the answer.

"What sort of person is he, to hang around a rundown house like this?" Her hand runs along one of the nearby walls.

The image of the young man in question is still piecing itself together in her head. Violet responds instead to the bit about the house, as the frown deepens.

"I live here," she says firmly, "This is the basement of my house."

"And it's crappy because it's fucking haunted," she thinks, but doesn't say. Instead, she shakes her head and tries to remember who exactly she was looking for.

"He's my friend," she begins, slowly. "... My boyfriend."

A boyfriend. It's a common theme: I can't leave him behind, I can't go without him, I have to go back, my lover is waiting.

She supposes perhaps, in another life, she'd be foolish enough to want a lover, too. But in this one, she knows that such a relationship is also doomed, and ultimately futile. And the day would surely come when she would ferry him to her shores, if she chose a man. He would lose everything there, and she would lose him.

"Did you agree to meet here? Will he know to come?"

Why is it so hard to think? Violet's slowly becoming more aware, though, and there's a growing edge to her voice as it dawns on her that this person really isn't supposed to be here, whether it's in her house, or her dream.

"I think so," she says again, her eyes narrowing slightly in both confusion and suspicion.

"... Why are you here?" she asks finally.

"By fate," says Lethe simply, as if this makes perfect sense as an explanation. "I had no conscious intention of arriving."

This is true, though as she says it, she has that feeling of things being out of place. She does not belong in a house in... wherever this is, on whatever planet it may be.

"Fate?" Violet repeats it, as if it could possibly make sense, but ends up shaking her head again.

"What does that even mean?" she asked, pressing Lethe for answers. "You just showed up? Well, you'd fit right in with all the freaks here."

"If you want to understand..." Lethe considers whether to answer for just a moment. "Then know this is a dream."

This is not exactly an easy idea to accept, and she waits calmly for the denial she is almost sure will come.

"A dream...?"

Yeah, it makes sense. Because nothing here makes sense. Her headache goes away, at least a little bit. As strange as her reality is, this life, this place... it has to be a dream.

"Alright," she says, nodding. "I get that. I mean, everything's so screwy already that I just figured I could be awake. But, I guess I'm really not. At least, right now I'm not."

Now came the stranger part.

"I'm also somewhere else, and dreaming." Two people, who'd never met in reality, were somehow sharing a dream. She wouldn't guess it so quickly like this except for her prior experience with the shared dreams, yet there it was.

That's definitely the stranger part. Violet watches the other girl with a raised brow, becoming more on her guard once again. How could someone possibly be sharing her dream? That kind of stuff never happened.

"... My dad would have a field day with this," she sighs, shaking her head. "Like you wouldn't believe."

Crossing her arms, Violet continues to watch the stranger.

"So, you're saying that I didn't just dream you up?" Violet asks. "You're real?"

"I'm real," Lethe says easily. "However, we will probably never meet in our waking lives." She seems to treat it as normal, that something so outside the usual course of reality could exist. It says something about her own experiences.

"This place... is very far away from where I am." There was no regret to that statement. She'd never had a normal life to regret giving up, born into war.

It was definitely a dream; Violet had no problem with that. But, she didn't exactly buy that they were sharing the same space, and that this other person was real. Then, though, Constance's words flitted across her mind... hadn't she said something about different perceptions? Realities?

"Where are you, then?" she asks hesitantly.

"I'm at the shores of the River Lethe." Where else would she, the senshi who guards that river, belong? She must be there, to guide her ferry and its passengers.

Of course, that role has changed recently... She now ushers the ones who oppose her hopes for peace into forgetfulness, and defeat.

The River Lethe? Violet wracked her brain, frowning as she did so, trying to remember if she had ever heard of a place like that. Finally, the teenager just shook her head, accepting that... well, she wasn't the most educated in geography.

"Okay," she began slowly. "... Wherever that is."

She paused, taking a small breath of the basement's musty air.

"How is this... possible, though? All of this dream stuff."

If Violet is familiar with mythology, it should be a familiar name indeed: the river every person is forced to drink from to forget everything before they pass into their next lives.

"It's at the end of the galaxy," Lethe says, a slight difference from the myths, but when have myths ever gotten the stories perfectly? "As to why, it's simply a strange happening."

She's decently familiar with mythology; it interests her, at the very least. But, she's too preoccupied with the situation for her mind to wander to that information now, and she just nods, slowly.

"So, you're at the end of the galaxy right now," Violet begins, "And you're dreaming. Meanwhile, I'm in L.A., and I'm dreaming. But we're both here, in my dream."

Now she's shaking her head. "How did you get here?"

Lethe frowns, and glances away. Her voice is thoughtful. "I fell asleep, and this time the dream I fell into was this one." But she knows how many ways Galaxia has to spy on so many planets and worlds. Is this just another part of a dangerous plan?

Or is it freedom, to be able to go out, to meet others, even to have some shred of semblance of normalcy in these dreams?

Violet tilts her head, as if trying to discern whether this person was telling the truth or not. Finally, the teenager just sighs, resolving to stop questioning her bizarre reality.

"Does that happen... often?" she asks, somewhat doubtfully.

Lethe considers this. When was it that this began...?

"The first time I had this type of dream, was only weeks ago." It had been confusing. She'd been at her river, as always, but the passengers had not been what she'd expected at all.

Again, the teenager shifts her weight. "So, people just start dreaming like this... with others in them. Out of nowhere. And this is... common."

Judging by all the people around, she guessed that it was. Violet's expression is pretty calm by now; it's more interesting than confusing or annoying, at this point.

"Sorry, I forgot," she says suddenly. "I'm Violet."

"I am the guardian of the River of Oblivion," she introduces herself. "Sailor Lethe." There's a certain bold confidence to her posture that stops just short of arrogance; a certain pride in her role that she no longer knows if she feels, but that is expected.

Pride was thrown out when she betrayed her place for the sake of survival.

Kadaj was no stranger to the darkness or the chill it brought. The cold air made his skin tighten, but he too, was used that. Even the distant voices he thought he might have heard were normal to him. The remnant had learned to ignore some of them and embrace others depending on the message. He knew this place did not belong to Mother, nor did it have anything to do with her, so he chose to ignore anything that spoke to his mind this time.

The girl blended easily into the atmosphere of the house. It almost seemed like she belonged there. “Hn,” Kadaj merely grinned as he took a confidence step into the bathroom. He met her worriedly confused gaze with that of a confident one. “The same reason the rest of you are here,” he enlightened her. “Your ancestors refused to give the planet to Mother. Now it’s my job to get it back to her.” Kadaj casually ran a gloved finger across the mirror which resulted in a loud squeak. “You,” he waved a dismissive hand at her, “and the rest of your kind, are doomed to failure.”

Kadaj leaned against the sink. “I’m feeling generous,” he maliciously teased. “You can die now, in your own house, in a quick and painless method.” He lifted his chin slightly as to look down on the pathetic sight before him. “Or you can wither away with the rest of humanity once Mother arrives.”

Another weirdo in her dream? Violet crosses her arms defensively, frowning suspiciously at the stranger. She takes in the sharp eyes, the light hair, the confidence. Who does this guy think he is, anyway?

And then he begins with the "Mother" business... ranting away about some absurd shit. The teenager's eyebrow slowly raises in response, in disbelief. Could her subconscious really have come up with something this bizarre?

"What," she began incredulously, "The fuck. Why the hell are you talking about killing me? And what are you talking about with... the planet, and your mother?"

Violet just shakes her head. "Seriously, this is getting to be like an acid trip."

“Please,” Kadaj curtly replied, his tone lathered with sarcasm. “Don’t play games with me.” He stared he down coldly. “You won’t win.” In a flash Kadaj drew his double bladed katana and pointed it dangerously at the girl’s throat. The remnant’s eyes locked onto hers in warning.

Somehow, this house was connected to ShinRa. There was no evidence or logical explanation. It was just a feeling. Kadaj knew ShinRa was hiding something important here. That’s just how dreams worked sometimes.

“Now that I have your attention,” the blades nestled precariously close to her subtle skin, “Tell me where you’ve hidden her.” A scowl scorned his face. His grip on the hilt tightened as pupils thinned threateningly. “And don’t lie.”

Holy shit. And suddenly, there was a blade at her throat. Violet stared, her mouth open slightly, her mind working slowly. What kind of messed up dream was this supposed to be, anyway?

"I'm not going to tell you anything with you threatening me like that," she said coolly, not moving away from the weapon at her neck. "Listen, I've had scarier guys than you threaten me lately, and I'm not easy to boss around. Guess you're a little late on the update."

Violet followed the sword up to the face of the silver-haired young man who held it.

"Who's 'her,' anyway? Your mom again? Look, I don't know what you're talking about, or where you think you are, but I doubt she's here. Unless you used to live here, or something."

Then, yeah, she was probably lurking around somewhere.

“Is that right?” He arched a silver brow in mild amusement. “What a brave girl you are.” Foolish, was more like. He lowered the double blades. He found her fighting spirit...entertaining. It was refreshing. Not many had met Kadaj with resistance. If they tried, it was a futile endeavor; the end result was always the same—death. As Kadaj’s brother, Yazoo, once playfully put it, ‘you shouldn’t play with your prey’. Ah, but that’s where all the fun was, wasn’t it?

“You know something.” Kadaj said darkly. “I know you do.”

There was a short pause, giving her a chance to change her mind, though Kadaj had already made up his.

“Fine then!” He laughed, though it didn’t sound very happy. “If you want to play games, we’ll play games!” He reached to yank her out of the bathroom.

"Hey!" Violet went to yank her arm out of his grasp, not holding back the vicious look on her face. "I don't know what you're talking about. Did your mom die here, or something? Because you missed that train; the crazy people obsessed with old murders were here already. And guess what happened to them?"

She bared her teeth in a half-smile. "They disappeared. Gone. So if you want the same, go ahead. Do whatever you want."

“Don’t be so difficult.” Kadaj huffed a noise of deep seeded irritation. He didn’t have time for this foolishness. “Give me one reason why I shouldn’t kill you.” The remnant was quite serious. Her attitude had been amusing, but now it was just annoying.

In his mind, he debated just gutting her and getting it over with. Green eyes darted briefly to the tiled floor, envisioning the bloody mess the bathroom would become. Decorated with sanguine décor, the grout filled to the brim with dark crimson liquid, the pristine white tub stained beyond repair. The idea jerked the corner of his lips to one side. Giving into this desire would bring relief.

But it wouldn’t bring Mother back. Not faster, anyway. So she would be spared for the moment—or until his patience ran dry.

Violet glared at him, dark eyes narrow and sharp. "Because I don't care about your bullshit," she spat, "And why would you kill me over something so stupid? I told you, I don't know anything about your mother. As far as I know, she's never ever been here. So maybe she's stuck in another dream."

This guy wasn't like the first woman who had shown up in her dream. If he killed her, what would happen? As Kadaj imagined her possible death, Violet herself envisioned being stuck in that house forever. She had never died in a dream before...

Kuja isn't dressed typically at all for someone in the 21st century, more like something from a rococo fairy tale. He wanders through the basement. It's unfamiliar, but he feels he belongs here, in the darkness and the dust. Kuja is not human, or even truly a living thing. He exists to serve as a vessel for souls, and he can feel them now, all around him, reminded of the time he took the souls of the dead into himself, used their power for his own benefit. He won't do that now, but those spirits call out to him, and perhaps he could call back, if he chose.

The girl doesn't particularly stand out to him in the midst of all this, but he turns toward her when she speaks. "Why are any of us where we are? To find the answer, as yourself whether you are here by your own will or someone else's. If you've come yourself, you already know the reason, as it lies somewhere within you, however hidden it may be. If it is another's will that brought you, then that is why you're here."

Another weirdo. Violet heaves a sigh at the sight, crossing her arms defensively. If bizarre people are going to keep showing up in her dreams, even going as far as to threaten her, she's going to be on the alert.

"I have no idea," she admits, somewhat stiffly. "I mean, I could be dreaming about this basement, sure. It's mine. But, why would all you people be showing up? I've never met you."

"Don't you have the imagination to dream of things you've never seen before?"

Kuja admittedly doesn't know a great deal about dreams, however, not having had very many of his own before.

"Or can your mind only produce those things it already knows?" He shrugs. "Regardless, my own dreams, too, have changed, of late." From shadows into something more vivid. "As far as I was aware, it was my dream, but you claim it as your own. I'm willing to give you the benefit of the doubt, as I'd be unlikely to dream of something so prosaic as your basement. Perhaps it is something that affects us both, as different as we may be."

[001] → the house

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