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| [ Well, it's not exactly a novel dream - the perfectly formed scenery fits the desert island cliché to a T, though it's quite a bit more expansive than a rock with two palm trees sticking out of the middle. Above the rolling dunes that sweep down to the surf, a lush green forest rises to cover most of the visible, the tangle of trees thick enough to seem impenetrable (and half of them completely out of place, in a tropical climate). The only thing this leafy, viney (pine tree dotted) brush doesn't ensconce is the narrow mountain range rising from the center of the island. From those towering masses of land, slate grey and tipped with thin spires and a halo of fog (or perhaps smoke), volcanic activity seems the least of all potential dangers.
But all of that's merely an exciting backdrop to the true mundanity of this phantasm. Shored up at the very top of a wave of fine, yellow sand, sits a desk - plain and spare and rusting at the hinges, in no way special at all. And at it, nearly topped over in height by the towering stacks of (random, unsorted, some completely unlabeled) textbooks, sits Cloud.
Hunched intently over something - pages of notes, upon closer inspection - he pays no mind to the intermittent call of seabirds on the breeze, nor the way that lazy warm puff of air tugs at the messy spikes of his hair. He's scribbling furiously. Then considering. Then turning over the pencil in his hand and erasing with equal ferocity. Rinse, repeat, and more than once on the same line, with increasing frustration.
It's only when one of the precariously balanced texts atop his leaning tower spills over and slides down the sandy slope of the dune on the other side of the desk that he stops with a start, dropping his pencil and his notes at once. Skating around the edge of his desk, through the shifting ground, he all but dives after the book, snatching it back up and sinking to a stop in a small avalanche of sand. With an inaudible sigh of relief, Cloud digs his socked feet in (boots tucked safely into the hollow beneath his desk) and starts to haul himself back up the to the crest of the dune, and the loose pile of notes in desperate need of endless correction. ] | |
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| [This certainly is unexpected. While the Lombax's roaming dreams had been quiet for quite some time, the scene begins to play out nonetheless, taking place aboard a dark cell, echoing all around its steel walls with the sound of lapping waves.
The ground itself shifts as well, unsteady and inconsistent, and a look at your cell-mate would show the little alien critter in... an unfamiliar attire.
And was that the sound of... pirates, just outside the door? Though they sound more mechanical somehow, chortling and clanging and peering in with glowing golden eyes from time to time to inspect their prisoners with smug faces and loud, roudy laughter. Ratchet himself seems unfazed by this, sitting upon a makeshift bed and eyeing the drunken disruptors with a sly expression.]Just keep your head down and follow my lead. [Slipping off the bed, he reaches for his wrench.]Everything's going exactly as planned. | |
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| [The setting was an empty corner of an amusement park at night. In the distance you can hear the tinny sounds of carousel music and the screams of happy roller coaster riders. But here there was only a grassy lot, empty in the darkness.
And sitting in a shallow depression in the center of the room? A tiny boy with blood running down one side of his face, dressed in clothes far too big for him. His breathing is short and panicky, but he says nothing and makes no move to stand.]
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| He knows, when he's awake, that it's impossible. He'll never have children. For a variety of reasons. He's devoted to his work. He has no time. Physiologically, due to his altered genes and the radiation treatments, he is unable to father children. Even if he could, with medical assistance, would he want to? Wouldn't any children he fathered belong to ShinRa as well?
What would become of such children? Would they grow wings and fly away? The idea isn't as far-fetched as it should be, considering what had happened to his friends. Why would he want children in a world like this?
But he's dreaming now. In dreams, he can have another life. He's dressed in plain clothes, black pants and a white dress shirt, standing in a a room, in a house. An ordinary house. It's not in Midgar, but somewhere else, far away. He can look through the window and see trees. The curtains are wide open, and sunlight pours in through them, and he knows, somehow, that this is "home". His home. With the certainty of a dreamer, who can believe impossible things, he knows that his family lives here. His children. There are pictures of them on the wall. Their possessions can be seen here and there, and some of the books on the shelves are theirs--not his own dry volumes about science and military history. He stands there for a while, not doing anything in particular, quiet and distantly content as he takes in this place, this existence, becomes accustomed to it.
He doesn't stir until hears a sound behind him. There someone here with him. He turns and smiles at them, a casual, fond smile for someone he sees almost every day of his life. "Hello." He asks a simple question. "How was your day?"
[[OOC: Anyone is welcome to be one of Sephiroth's "kids". (Relatives or spouses of any gender to talk about family are also welcome, if you prefer.) Feel free to age characters down, if you like, but grown up kids are also fine. Prose or action spam both welcome; I'll match you.]] | |
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| "How long will you be there?" Usagi's voice seemed to lack its usual enthusiasm. Her steps continue forward reluctantly along the large window pane near the boarding area of an airport. She's there with a handsome young man, who turns to her, smiling reassuringly.
"Just one year," with a small pause, "Though I may extend it."
"A whole year..." she cringes, thinking about it, "I know I should be happier for you... you're going to Harvard! They picked you for the study... you worked so hard for everything..." As she looks up again, there are tears in her eyes, ones that she's trying her best to hold back. "I'm sorry... I wanted to see you off with a smile..."
"Usako..." Just as quickly as he says it, he embraces her. "I'll write to you. We'll call either, too." He pulls away, still holding her by the shoulders. "Promise you'll write, also."
"I promise," she doesn't hesitate, "And I'll call you lots too..." Usagi steps forward again, resting her head on his chest. "Come home every now and then..."
"I will. Usako... I have to go..." he pulls away from her again, and reaches into his pocket, producing a small gift wrapped box. "This is for you."
As she takes it, and opens it -- there's a ring inside with a heart-shaped gem. "Ma... Mamo-chan! This is for me? It's beautiful... Thank you! Can you -- put it on me?" the smile she's wearing is a genuine one, now. It grows brighter as he places the jewel on her ring finger.
"I love you -- " And he leans down to meet his lips with hers for a moment -- "Usako -- when I return -- "
A sparkle in the distance. A flash growing brighter and brigher until --
Before Usagi can even react, the young man is surrounded by light, his body disintegrating into ash as he stares blankly forward, falling away into nothing. All that remains in his place -- is a shining crystal. She's frozen in place, her legs turned to lead. She can't even find a voice to scream as a hand reaches forward, taking that brilliant crystal for its own.
A female warrior clad in gold. An icy stare directed towards the Moon Princess as she stands there, making her presence known... before disappearing just as quickly as she came.
As her knees finally buckle, Usagi's eyes roll back as she falls to the ground, fainting. | |
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| [This dream starts in what appears to be a cave, though a very small one, much taller than it is long or wide. It doesn't seem all that cramped or scary, though - light filters in from the outside, thanks to a hole in the stone at the top, and the walls are easy to see.
Actually, for a tiny cave, this place is fairly inviting. Moss grows on some of the rocks, and the area feels safe rather than closed-in, like a little hiding spot that you can go in and out of at any point. In fact, that's exactly what it is. Should you go to the opening, which is a very short walk, you'll find that it opens to the outside; a small, peaceful tropical island.
But good luck getting outside before a certain someone notices that you're there. A little boy, who some may recognize as Sora, is sitting comfortably near one of the walls of the cave. He picks up a piece of chalk and starts drawing what...looks like an attempt that drawing some kind of animal. In fact, the walls are covered in these drawings; childish scribbles of animals and adventures and stars.
There's also something else strange about this cave; a door, built right into the very back. No, not built - it looks like it belongs there, or has always been there. But what could it be for?
Well, whatever it is, it's not opening anytime soon. Besides, Sora has put down his chalk, already standing up and looking right at your before you have much of a chance to investigate anything.
Talk to the small, slightly confused looking child?] | |
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| It's a fairly normal day, really. It's nice out -- the sun is shining bright in the park-esque meeting place. There are a few scattered students about, all on their way to school. Near one of the fountains there's a girl with blue hair in her uniform, looking at the watch on her wrist. "Guess I'm early today... " Her shoulders heave with a sigh as she takes a seat, ready to wait.
There's a loud yawn that overtakes her as she stretches her arms out, her school bag resting near her feet. "Ahhh, I didn't realize I was so tired! Maybe I'll be able to catch a nap through English..." she closes her eyes briefly, resting her chin on her hands. | |
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| [The landscape of this dream starts out with an idyllic setting locked into an endless late spring, early summer. Massive trees crowned in shades of golds, reds and greens dominate the landscape. Vermilion furred lynx hunted the grounds beneath the trees and occasionally what looked to be significantly smaller trees possessing faces and small if long arms could be seen. Tiny Treants tending to the massive woods around them.
Moving through this idyllic setting with apparent purpose is what first appears to be your typical man, though a closer observation of the head area will quickly disabuse anyone of the idea that the man is human, long tapering ears move in a slight bobbing motion with each quick step he takes down the cobbled path through the woods. His pale hair is currently down out of its usual top-knot, flowing down his back and largely covering the cloak he wears over his tunic and armor, their colors similar to the leaves above him.
Why he's in such hurry is not readily apparent, especially when to the casual glance, the landscape around him seems peaceful and almost serene. However, in the distance ahead the glow of the land seems to darken, radiating an ill-at-ease feeling, sick, twisted..dying. As if some cancer threatens to move in on the golden and scarlet lands beyond it and destroy them. And if he does not want to see that poison seep any further into his kingdom, then he has to think of a way to halt it without falling into the trap which has already robbed them of one ruler of their people already.
It's unfortunately all too easy to start believing that the ends justify the means though in these dark and trying times.][ooc: For those who don't know the woods of Eversong forest, the woods look like this] | |
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| Cold fog swirls, and makes the darkness even deeper, shrouding everything in a damp, cloying mist. There's a smell of ash in the air. To the side, a single golden pin impales a blue butterfly with black markings, just above the thorax. It struggles with a vain flurry of its tired wings, but for all the writhing desperation, there is little life left in the spasming body. It rests weakly between fits of frantic activity.
Beneath the butterfly, a picture of a blue-haired girl in a tiara and sailor-style collar has been clearly marked 'Mercury'. Nearby, similar displays bear the names of other planets. In some, the butterfly's wings have been pulled off or its body has been singed and scorched or bent to sickening angles; others are fresh and empty, but labeled in anticipation. They stretch into the distance as far as the eye can see in all directions. | |
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| [The dreamscape for this dream is strange in that there is no sky, nor ground to it. Just endless space filled mirror-like squares of metal, a few of these floating about one large square show places and people within Tokyo, Japan.
In the center of the square stands a black-clad young man casually watching the images shown in the surfaces of the squares, as if they were nothing more than massive television screens.
Despite the lack of action, he seems to be waiting for something or perhaps someone to join him.][ooc: Starting off simple, the dream looks akin to the linked image, only there's no Kakyou, nor any bed w/ wires in the center of that large piece where Fuuma is standing. It'll just be Fuuma. Feel free to appear beside, above or below, I doubt gravity exists within this dream as it does on earth.
edit: fixed the link, should work again.] | |
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