towerofanimus | DREAM A LITTLE DREAM WITH ME

Characters: all the characters involved in the Dream Event
Setting: various dreams, various locations
Format: any
Summary: Xehanort draws a large amount of the tower into worlds constructed from their dreams in an attempt to learn about everyone en masse
Warnings: ANYTHING AND EVERYTHING

[Tendrils of magic wound their way around, lines of energy flickered into existence, forming a large shape on the ground around where Xehanort sat with his back straight and legs tucked neatly beneath him. Perfect. It was a bigger scale than the one he'd done but a month before, already he could feel the flickers of connection, the shape getting brighter and more defined.

More participants. More mental drag. There was little to worry about. With Xigbar on guard duty, his sleeping body would be quite safe. No, it was time to dream... and see just who would follow.

Darkness shrouded his hand, keyblade flaring into life, and he gripped the handle in both hands, aiming it at the ground, at the keyhole defined by criss-crossing darkness responding, resonating...

drowsiness laced through him, the blade in his hands sagging downward until the tip touched the ground, his posture slacking, head and shoulders slumping slightly

in slumber, the dreams of others awaited

the Master was asleep.]

OOC NOTE BECAUSE I CAN'T EDIT THE POST IT'S ON ANYMORE AND NOT REDOING ALL OF THAT: Dreamers should post to their REAL WORLD thread explaining where their character is, if they made it to a bed or if they're on the floor somewhere or wherever.

If you have questions for me, put them in your base character thread!

If I missed you somehow, let me know and I'll add you to the appropriate section!

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

She's screaming. That's all he can hear, even as he could feel the ropes digging into his skin, the blood dripping from his head. Elena is screaming, and there is nothing he can do about it.

The Remnant called Yazoo was standing over him, mocking him, but Tseng couldn't focus on the words. All he could focus on was the screaming, and he struggled, not even making a sound when another cut was made. He had learned long ago how to withstand torture.

But she hadn't.

Gaia help her, it was this place. The place that haunted her in her dreams, that followed her as a whispering ghost in the back of her mind, taunting her. Reminding her. Always berating her for her in ineptitude and failure. It was supposed to be a simple in and out mission; it was never to have gone this horribly wrong.

There had never been a doubt in her mind that they both had their own nightmares about what had happened and her presence in his dream felt like an intrusion into some secret place. She could recall with vivid clarity everything that happened between bouts of unconsciousness - her throat drying at the sound of her own screaming voice. To see what happened on this end..... Standing behind him, Elena knelt down, head hanging between her shoulders. Strands of blonde just lightly grazed against the back of his suit.

"I never blamed you. Not once." Her voice is low, strained, forcing words out she couldn't manage to speak elsewhere. But this was a dream, wasn't it? This was a safe place, right?

His eyes were shut. The movement near him could only mean one thing; more pain. Another cut, another blow, something that may eventually kill him. And if him dying meant that someone else could live, then he might finally accept it.

He didn't want to accept it. But he wouldn't have another death on his hands. Not another. Not someone he cared about. Her screams died out, and Tseng couldn't help but jerk at the sound of her voice right near his ear.

"Elena," He licked dry lips with an even drier tongue. "I... should have gone alone." He should have. He could do it on his own, even though she was his partner. He couldn't save her from this.

His quick movement, the involuntary flex of muscles away from an unknown source - no doubt promising pain in this wretched place -, came as no surprise. How many months did it take for her to stop jumping every time Reno or Rude came up behind her? But the fact that he could recognize that there was a presence there started that horrible, sinking feeling in her stomach.

The sound of her name on his lips nearly does her in, stomach settling heavy stones amplified a mastered gravity materia. Hands, resting between her knees, clenched into tight, white fists, fighting the urge to reach out and touch his shoulders and shake the stupid out of him. But she couldn't. No matter how much she wanted to.

"Don't....don't say that. I couldn't..." Elena paused, swallowing hard, pushing back the sudden surge of nausea and bitter taste of bile stinging at the back of her throat. "I wouldn't have let you. Not to somewhere so dangerous by yourself. I should have done more.... I'm..." Such a failure. Not good enough to be a Turk. Weak. Stupid.

Eyes clench shut, burning with threatening tears, struggling to take each breath. It was so easy to say this in her own dream, but this internal struggle...this was one hadn't anticipated it. There was a feeling of hesitation settling uncomfortably on her chest, increasing the doubt that perhaps it wasn't best to get things out in the open. Even if he responded, even if he could understand her, she was putting faith in the chance that he wouldn't remember a word of it. Too much faith really.

But...she had been sure she was going to die there. Had expected it, really, when it really got worse. And when she woke up in that hospital room, her rescue a blur of black and red, the first two things that came to her mind was that she had somehow survived and a gut-wrenching fear that Tseng hadn't because she could see or hear him in the small, cramped room with her. And standing there, in that place, that fear gripped her firmly again, urging her to speak those three little words she so desperately needed to say.

Her voice seemed to barely want to work now, throat tight and raw. Grasping what little strength she had left, she lowered her head more, waist bending in what she could make of a bow in her squatted position.

"I'm so sorry."

Edited 2012-08-07 13:28 (UTC)

"No," His voice may be raspy, but it's firm in it's conviction. "You're not."

He knew what she thought. It was the same thing everyone thought, when they first joined or were recruited to the Turks. After the first week of getting your ass handed to you by instructors and people who you were supposed to be able to fight against, everyone thought they weren't good enough. Weren't strong enough.

"You're..." He swallowed, eyes shutting again. "You're a good Turk. We completed the mission. That's all that matters."

He couldn't turn around to see her, but he could envision her. Not as she was during this time, but as she was right before it. Right before he asked her out to dinner. Tseng, like everyone, had a fear of dying, of death. But after being near the brink so many times, he knew that withstanding torture was what made a person strong.

"We're Turks, Elena. We... always complete the mission."

No

Her body reacts instantly; flinching inwardly at what she first thought would be part of a short, chastising comment. Surely there was not much more he could add for ways of improvement, not after the many nights she spent awake reviewing every step she made, where she could have made a better shot, a quicker move, to get him – them – to safety. To stop the onslaught of punches and kicks, cuts and stabs.

But then she pauses in her own thoughts, momentarily, and hears him continue to speak. Eyes move first, following the center back line of his suit up to raven black strands spread across his back, head raising slowly. Words of comfort were not exactly what she had expected, earning a tightening of her chest so painfully she could barely breathe.

"Yes... You're right. Nothing else matters but completing the mission." A heartbeat passes in silence. "But..."

She couldn't argue with his logic, it was their entire purpose and reason for existing with ShinRa, even after Meteorfall and the Geostigma. To serve the President, be his agents to complete what work he needed done without question. To complete any mission given to them with the speed and efficiency required of them. Ah, but there was that other part, slowly ingrained over time as a partnership built, that gnawed on the back of her mind – had done so since arriving in this Gaia-forsaken tower.

"Turks don't leave Turks behind and...I don't know how I got to one, but I woke up in a hospital. It was short before I...but I didn't know if you were there." The images are strong, fresh in her memory, making it unnecessary to even look at him. She can remember the bright red blood against freezing, pale olive skin. She can remember the nights of huddling together, making sure the other hadn't slipped into unconsciousness. "I don't even know if you're still alive..."

Edited 2012-08-09 12:20 (UTC)

DREAM A LITTLE DREAM WITH ME

Dream #9 Terror and Helplessness

asdghgashdkl COULD NOT PASS THIS UP

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HHHNNNNNNGGGGG BEST FIRST INTERACTION Y/Y?

YESSSSSSSSSSSS also omg firefox you didn't save what I wrote /sob

OMG, BABIES. And BOO Firefox!