[merged dream] [Week 14, Day 3] When the water's gone, we'll drink the sand
Who: Mello, Matt, and anyone who gets sucked in
Status: Open!
Style: Third person, present
Where: Raisato, sort of
When: Week 14, Day 3, after Matt and Jessica make it to Raisato
Rating: It'll probably end up R.
Raisato's burning.
Matt thinks it's Raisato. That's the logical place for it to be, but he's been seeing things that aren't there for the last while. Smoke from his pipe forming shapes in the air, indistinct, but writhing as if in pain. Flickers at the periphery of his vision, too much like he dreamed (still dreams). The world curling up at the edges to show the decay underneath.
He tries to pretend he doesn't see New York in the fire, doesn't see the windows of Wammy's House as sheets of flame, or the hear the landscape of Kannagara crackling as it burns and dies.
He doesn't know when he fell asleep. But he must be dreaming.
Right?
He can't ignore it; the world, worlds, everything is burning. Matt suddenly knows that if he breathes in that smoke, he'll die.
But it's all around him, black and heavy as smoke shouldn't be. He holds his breath as long as he can.
Gasps.
The smoke fills his lungs, burns, claws at him. It starts to seep out of him, tendrils threading from under his shirt, and he falls to his knees, arms wrapped around himself, trying to make it stop. He could point to every hole it's spilling out of.
Status: Open!
Style: Third person, present
Where: Raisato, sort of
When: Week 14, Day 3, after Matt and Jessica make it to Raisato
Rating: It'll probably end up R.
Raisato's burning.
Matt thinks it's Raisato. That's the logical place for it to be, but he's been seeing things that aren't there for the last while. Smoke from his pipe forming shapes in the air, indistinct, but writhing as if in pain. Flickers at the periphery of his vision, too much like he dreamed (still dreams). The world curling up at the edges to show the decay underneath.
He tries to pretend he doesn't see New York in the fire, doesn't see the windows of Wammy's House as sheets of flame, or the hear the landscape of Kannagara crackling as it burns and dies.
He doesn't know when he fell asleep. But he must be dreaming.
Right?
He can't ignore it; the world, worlds, everything is burning. Matt suddenly knows that if he breathes in that smoke, he'll die.
But it's all around him, black and heavy as smoke shouldn't be. He holds his breath as long as he can.
Gasps.
The smoke fills his lungs, burns, claws at him. It starts to seep out of him, tendrils threading from under his shirt, and he falls to his knees, arms wrapped around himself, trying to make it stop. He could point to every hole it's spilling out of.