::Dream 001::
It feels like late summer, the heat coming off of the heavy metal walls in waves, almost dizzying in its intensity.
Seemingly unaffected, Kefka is lying on his stomach on the bed, his velvet cloak draped across him and blending with the similarly coloured comforter.
Pale as a ghost and delicate like a doll, Terra sits next to him.
His little witch, ribbons in her green hair, gossamer strands around her pretty face. Such a good little toy she is, doing whatever he asks without question. She's brushing his hair, now, slow and steady strokes with the heavy brush, carved from the finest ivory. It looks far too large in her hands, even though she's not that small at all.
Taller than Kefka, even, though not by that much.
She seems so small, though, a pretty little doll for him to dress and play with, bringing her everywhere with him. No other of his dolls are as cherished as she is, not treasured like she is treasured. There are so very many dolls in his room, staring blankly into the air. So many empty glass orbs reflecting the light and nothing else at all.
Terra's eyes, too, are empty, though they're not glass at all, looking into an unseen distance as she brushes through Kefka's long hair again and again. The focus stones in the crown around her head, one stone at each temple, both pulse with more life in one little gem than in her entire body.
If he says nothing, Kefka knows, Terra will sit like that and brush through his hair until her hands cramp and she can hold the brush no longer, and even then she'll try, because she's a perfect little doll. This is why she's his favourite. Much better than that other one who shares his abilities, because she never listens. Terra does. She listens to everything he says and even when it terrifies her, the only sign is her eyes widening, tears rolling down her cheek. No protests from his pretty one.
He does stop her, eventually, though. After all, he has a new game to play with her, a new test of her formidable abilities.
Like him, his favourite toy wields fire so well.
And when he says the word, she will burn the world for him.
Unfamiliar with the technology that is the Dreamberry, Kefka has left it on the little table next to the bed he has found. He's giggling in his sleep, undisturbed by the glowing device.
[OOC: Should have posted this ages ago. Two feet of snow isn't good for my internet, sadly. Bloody Norway. *chuckles*]