002 ☆ Dream
Effects: The feeling of being insecure at the beginning, lifting into pride near the end
Warnings: Nada!
Disclaimer: Set before residents gain knowledge on "dreamwalking"
A child, small, quiet, hands in his pockets with hunched shoulders stands alone, shadowed, unsure, eyes cast toward the ground. A group of children are off in the near distance. They play happily, smile and share with each other, bounce a ball amongst the group. They ignore their silent observer with keen efficiency.
A sense of resignation can be felt, however forced it may be.
His lips move.
It’s probably safer this way.
A faint whisper passes through them.
The boy doesn’t move, doesn’t look. He simply stands still, and as time passes, as shoulders slump further and fists coil and shake at his sides, tears fall from hidden, honey brown eyes and the children in the distance all seem to fade.
I’m not supposed to touch anyone…
I’ll hurt people…
More faint whispers, this time ethereal in volume, not spoken by mouth. It echoes, as if whispered into an empty space, as if whispered directly into the confines of the mind.
Brief but colourful images flash in rapid succession. The colour blue, the small inclusion of red, a black and yellow trimmed mask with white eyes, and while they may look lifeless, they embody a strong sense of hope.
Justice.
You’ve got it wrong…
The boy opens his eyes wide, the faintest tinge of a blue glow to them. He now stares off into the distance, eyes wider and tears dried. The sound of the children’s laughter finally grows, resurfaces. He lifts his hand; fist coiled, and sticks his thumb up. He holds it out.
Save people…
The ball that the children play with bounces out of their circle, and it continues to bounce and roll until it stops at the lone boy’s feet. He shifts his focus to it, and bends to pick it up slowly. A child waves, asks him silently to throw it back.
The boy clutches the ball to his chest, and his lips curl into a small, proud smile.
He walks toward them.
He throws it back.
That makes you a hero, too.
[Kotetsu awakens, on the couch and not in his bed, the dreamberry flashing on the cushion next to him. He doesn't notice it, just holds a hand out before him, makes a fist and sticks his thumb up.
He simply smiles.]
Warnings: Nada!
Disclaimer: Set before residents gain knowledge on "dreamwalking"
A child, small, quiet, hands in his pockets with hunched shoulders stands alone, shadowed, unsure, eyes cast toward the ground. A group of children are off in the near distance. They play happily, smile and share with each other, bounce a ball amongst the group. They ignore their silent observer with keen efficiency.
A sense of resignation can be felt, however forced it may be.
His lips move.
It’s probably safer this way.
A faint whisper passes through them.
The boy doesn’t move, doesn’t look. He simply stands still, and as time passes, as shoulders slump further and fists coil and shake at his sides, tears fall from hidden, honey brown eyes and the children in the distance all seem to fade.
I’m not supposed to touch anyone…
I’ll hurt people…
More faint whispers, this time ethereal in volume, not spoken by mouth. It echoes, as if whispered into an empty space, as if whispered directly into the confines of the mind.
Brief but colourful images flash in rapid succession. The colour blue, the small inclusion of red, a black and yellow trimmed mask with white eyes, and while they may look lifeless, they embody a strong sense of hope.
Justice.
You’ve got it wrong…
The boy opens his eyes wide, the faintest tinge of a blue glow to them. He now stares off into the distance, eyes wider and tears dried. The sound of the children’s laughter finally grows, resurfaces. He lifts his hand; fist coiled, and sticks his thumb up. He holds it out.
Save people…
The ball that the children play with bounces out of their circle, and it continues to bounce and roll until it stops at the lone boy’s feet. He shifts his focus to it, and bends to pick it up slowly. A child waves, asks him silently to throw it back.
The boy clutches the ball to his chest, and his lips curl into a small, proud smile.
He walks toward them.
He throws it back.
That makes you a hero, too.
[Kotetsu awakens, on the couch and not in his bed, the dreamberry flashing on the cushion next to him. He doesn't notice it, just holds a hand out before him, makes a fist and sticks his thumb up.
He simply smiles.]