dream 002 ☄ memories of the 1920's
[ Warnings: Violence, death, blood
Effects: None...again. ]
The girl's cropped hair is black, and she looks to be around thirteen or fourteen years of age. Her outfit - blouse and long skirt and all - is as dark as her hair, and she's gripping a gun still in its holster. A simple revolver whose case depicted a small raven in flight.
She is standing in a dim office - so dim that the single lightbulb focused only on her. It was like being in the spotlight, literally. A corner of the desk is visible, but beyond that is pure darkness.
After looking down at her shoes, she speaks up.
"Please," the girl whispers. "I want to finish what my father started. I promise you won't regret it."
* * *
The same girl is now running down a street in the middle of the night, now wearing a waitress uniform. Her hair as grown a little longer, but it can still be considered short. Her heels click on the pavement as she goes, and she nearly trips. Grumbling, she kicks off the shoes and resumes running.
Behind her, a bullet ricochets off a trash can as she curves her route in an attempt to evade their shots while she still couldn't find a hiding place.
"She's an agent! Get her!"
The girl turns a corner into an alley, raises her gun and returned fire - only to realize that she had just fired her only bullet. She pulls the trigger again and again, and checks the gun; it really only had one bullet to start with. But...but that was impossible!
She walks ahead deeper into the alley...
* * *
...and into another room. A ransacked room with signs of struggle. And on the floor was a man lying in a pool of his own blood. He had died of a stab wound to the chest, and his eyes were closed. He had short brown hair tied in a half-ponytail, and wore a blue scarf with cloud patterns.
"Kay."
The same man, unscathed and alive, was standing behind her, scarf and all. She jumps, her eyes wide and her mouth open in a yell of shock.
"D-Daddy?!"
"Yes, Kay, it's me."
Kay could only stare at him, and back at the corpse, and again...
"Is it really you?"
He extends a clean hand toward her.
"Yes, it's me. Why shouldn't it be me?"
"B-b-because you're...you're..." Kay bites her lip, shuddering. Could he not see the dead body behind her? Tentatively she reaches out...
* * *
...and accepts the badge of an agent. An agent of the FBI. The hand that had given it to her was no longer her father's. The burgundy sleeve was proof enough.
"I won't let either of you down, Mr. Edgeworth," Kay declares, standing tall.
[And Kay sits up, wide awake and breathing hard...and she may be sweating a bit. She looks around her room several times before grabbing her Dreamberry and switching it off without another word. Yeesh, this again?]
Effects: None...again. ]
The girl's cropped hair is black, and she looks to be around thirteen or fourteen years of age. Her outfit - blouse and long skirt and all - is as dark as her hair, and she's gripping a gun still in its holster. A simple revolver whose case depicted a small raven in flight.
She is standing in a dim office - so dim that the single lightbulb focused only on her. It was like being in the spotlight, literally. A corner of the desk is visible, but beyond that is pure darkness.
After looking down at her shoes, she speaks up.
"Please," the girl whispers. "I want to finish what my father started. I promise you won't regret it."
* * *
The same girl is now running down a street in the middle of the night, now wearing a waitress uniform. Her hair as grown a little longer, but it can still be considered short. Her heels click on the pavement as she goes, and she nearly trips. Grumbling, she kicks off the shoes and resumes running.
Behind her, a bullet ricochets off a trash can as she curves her route in an attempt to evade their shots while she still couldn't find a hiding place.
"She's an agent! Get her!"
The girl turns a corner into an alley, raises her gun and returned fire - only to realize that she had just fired her only bullet. She pulls the trigger again and again, and checks the gun; it really only had one bullet to start with. But...but that was impossible!
She walks ahead deeper into the alley...
* * *
...and into another room. A ransacked room with signs of struggle. And on the floor was a man lying in a pool of his own blood. He had died of a stab wound to the chest, and his eyes were closed. He had short brown hair tied in a half-ponytail, and wore a blue scarf with cloud patterns.
"Kay."
The same man, unscathed and alive, was standing behind her, scarf and all. She jumps, her eyes wide and her mouth open in a yell of shock.
"D-Daddy?!"
"Yes, Kay, it's me."
Kay could only stare at him, and back at the corpse, and again...
"Is it really you?"
He extends a clean hand toward her.
"Yes, it's me. Why shouldn't it be me?"
"B-b-because you're...you're..." Kay bites her lip, shuddering. Could he not see the dead body behind her? Tentatively she reaches out...
* * *
...and accepts the badge of an agent. An agent of the FBI. The hand that had given it to her was no longer her father's. The burgundy sleeve was proof enough.
"I won't let either of you down, Mr. Edgeworth," Kay declares, standing tall.
[And Kay sits up, wide awake and breathing hard...and she may be sweating a bit. She looks around her room several times before grabbing her Dreamberry and switching it off without another word. Yeesh, this again?]