☸ OOC: The second dream
It was warm. Soft morning light filtered in through the picture window on his left while heated air rose from the fake gas logs nestled on the hearth. The bottoms of his too-long flannel pajamas dragged the floor as he padded over to the kitchen door. He inhaled and the aroma of fresh cinnamon scones and sausage urged him to quicken his barefoot shuffling in anticipation of the meal to come. As he reached for the knob he could hear four muffled voices. One was bright and young and girlish, another the affable chattering of a boy his own age. The last two were obviously husband and wife, judging by the good-natured, teasing tones they used when talking to one another. A faint smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he opened the door to join them.
It was cold. The moment he stepped into the room everything became dimmer, dingier. A thick layer of dust covered the simple wooden table, implying that no one had occupied the places set there for quite some time. The half-dead flowers sitting on the table drove home the point that the house was abandoned, but added the detail that it was remembered. That was important. He only wished he didn't forget what was so important to remember. A frigid breeze pulled him from his reverie and drew his attention to the open window behind the table. It was overcast outside and starting to snow. He shivered, half from the cold and half due to the way the curtains wafted like ghostly hands reaching out to him. His worn, heavy boots kicked up yet more dust as he walked toward the window, pulled it down to shut out the cold, and watched the fluffy little puffs of white drift down. Forehead pressed against the cool glass, he closed his eyes for a moment. Just a moment and then he would move on.
It was dark. Correction, the place he was standing in was not dark. It was practically buzzing with florescent lighting. But the place he was looking at... beyond the glass that his forehead rested on, tiny pins of light replaced the snowflakes from before and beyond that was a deep, yawning stretch of black as far as the eye could see and farther than the imagination could fathom. It made him feel incredibly small. Blessedly, he didn't have much time to dwell on it because a severely annoyed voice told him that if he left unsightly face smudges on the glass then he would be the one to clean it up.
"Yeah, yeah, fine," his tone was as irreverent as ever, though he was secretly glad there was someone there to pull his attention away from his thoughts. "Did you want me for anything or did you just pop by to scold me about proper spaceship glass maintenance?"
The owner of the voice let out an audible 'hmph'. "Your presence is required. I expect you to be punctual in such matters from now on. I doubt you'll care for the consequences if you fail to comply."
"Right, then." He donned a smirk for the sake of appearances, though he still didn't turn to face the man, or even look up from the stars to see the speaker's reflection in the glass. "Don't get your knickers in a twist over me being late."
He turned from the glass and saw that it no longer separated an advanced, immaculate ship from the vacuum of space, but instead held an enormous, sprawling tree. "I'm coming," he murmured as he started walking towards it.
((ooc note: The voices in the dream are as follows:
1st scene: Gene's family. Amy, Neil (Aim/Range/Sniper), Mum and Dad
3rd scene: Tieria (Veda/Lithium/Aurora) ))