(no subject)
Who: Schuldig
When: Tonight
Where: The Dreamscape
Rating: R
Warnings: Adult themes, gore
Summary: ((This goes out to all of Schuldig's friends, notably HOJO, Cissnei, Farfarello, Elena, Sasori, Yachiru, Rikku, Shu, Logan, Reno, Sephiroth... others such as Crescent, Sellz, Rufus, Zack, Tseng, Tifa, Cloud, Kuroune, and anyone else who has talked to him and feels like getting it, go for it. It is entirely optional for -everyone-, even those close to him, if they see this or not. They are free to leave at any time or not take part at all. Being there is entirely optional. I am putting this here since last time I had a few people tell me they wanted to do reactions of their chars waking up or what they did in the vision/dream. One shot reactions, please?
This is a dream, so they can't do much really. The people will ignore them, and the hallways are barrier blocked.))
They found themselves standing on what looked to be paper-thin glass hanging in midair over nothingness. Above, below, left, right, and behind them were swirling masses of clouds. Black and grey wisps boiled and rolled around each other, sparks of eerie lightning flashing through. The clouds forming into clawed beasts shapes, talons falling just bare inches short of seeming to tear into them. Eyes full of crazed electricity drew close before falling apart and sliding back into the clouds. The thin glass pane that they stood on had nothing holding it up in that nothingness. A trail of those glass sheets stretched before them, leading to what looked like a sprawling Bavarian designed mansion a short distance away. The panes were in poor repair, spiderwebs of cracks filling each one. When they took a step, minute cracking sounds could be heard, the threatening sound seeming to foretell them falling away at any second. Despite that, the paper-thin slats of glass held. Each was a dirty grey, like glass that hadn't been cleaned in years.
The glass walkway continued for ten feet until it reached the front yard of that haunted house, the glass here stained an ugly shade of black with brown splotches. Cracks ran through it as well, that same creepy cracking sound heard with each step. That thin glass holding up defied physics since in that courtyard, more than a hundred people all dressed in hooded black robes walked back and forth.
One had his hood thrown back, insanely gleeful eyes watching them. His hair was done upwards, suggestive of horns on his head. His lips were pulled into a Joker-esque grin, a cigar clamped between his teeth. He watched the newcomers, lifting hand into a fist. With a sharp snick of metal, blood-stained claws sprouted from between this dark-Logan's knuckles. He threw his head back, cackling loudly before lifting his other hand. Clutched between his fingers were locks of reddish hair, Cissnei's head swinging at the end.
Off to the side stood a Shu, his face sharp and smirking. One hand rested on the sword at his side, the other on the breast of a rather scantily clad Sellz. Chains hung at Shu's waist, all of them ending in handcuffs, something a slave trader would carry. His gaze was leering as it ran over them, as if assessing their value to him. The Sellz licked her lips enticingly before sliding her hand under Shu's shirt. A button popped off Shu's jacket, falling to the glass pathway before falling to dust.
Sasori moved among them, blood running in a sluggish stream from the cornres of his mouth. "It's your fault!" he screamed at them as they passed. "It's all your fault!" Blood dripped from the many wounds that covered him, the doppleganger giving them a glare before moving back into the crowd. As he did, he passed a Reno and Elena, the two of them breaking from their kiss to look at the wanderers, both laughing harshly. It was like ravens cawing sharply. Weapons were in their bloodstained hands. Elena's eyes were cruel and hateful, watching the group as if she would like nothing more to sink her nails into their skin and rip, rend, and tear. Reno tapped his EMR on his shoulder before activating it, the snap-crackle of electricity loud and painful sounding.
A Farfarello moved from the crowd, the gaze from his single golden eye as hard and stern as a hanging judge's. Knives were in his hands, redness coating their sharp edges. He watched them with the hunger of the insane, wanting to lunge at them. A Zack wound through the others, his face torn and bloodstained as it had been when he had been dead back on Gaia. He didn't look at anyone, merely kept walking, his blue eyes glazed and blind-seeming with death. Sephiroth was there as well, his mako-green eyes alight with madness, his sword in hand. He stopped and stared at them as the others had, the vicious grin of a hunter or killer on his lips. Kuroune moved among them, his mouth splotched with red, his fingers clawed for some reason. The amount of blood on him was amazing, as if he had ripped into a victim and shoved his face right into the gore.
Cissnei stepped out of the crowd, her eyes cold and angry. Her usually sweet face was twisted like a witch's, teeth snaggly and her hair a mess. Her weapon was in her hand, fingers clenched so tightly around it that blood dripped down the metal. "I hate you!" she screamed at them. "I always hated you! I just wanted to make Tseng jealous!"
And yet, none of them made a move towards them. They all simply watched.
At the very edge of where the wandering people were stood Schuldig. His back was to them for now. Strangely enough, he was wearing the robin's egg blue jacket that had been thrown away or destroyed by someone long ago. Instead of how it had been stained, most of it was clean. Most of it. Just above the small of his back were torn open holes, skin and other tissue spilling out of them. Blood stained all around them. The telepath finally did turn towards them, and most probably wished he hadn't.
One of Schuldig's eyes was gone, the trailing end of the optic nerve laying limply against his cheek from the empty socket like a crimson spider. Crude black stitching ran across his forehead, the sort that a mortician used when putting a body back together. The bloodless edges of his skin beneath the stitching puckered together in an ugly line. Schuldig's lips were bluish, his fingernails the same, as if he had already bled to death or suffocated. His single eye watched them with hellish awareness, as if he were trapped in this nightmare he couldn't wake from and knew everything going on. The front of his jacket was splattered as well with blood, the entrance wounds from what had speared him there. He wore no shirt beneath the jacket, his bared skin bearing the 'Y' mark of an autopsy. Like his forehead, it was stitched with that ugly, thick black thread, something usually hid by a mortician when they prepared a body for burial.
He stared at them a moment longer before he turned away and wove his way easily through the crowd and through the broken doors of the haunted looking house.
If they followed, the moment they crossed into the area of the robed crowd of people, the thoughts of everyone in Purgatorium began to speak in their heads.
I wish I
Back home they’re probably
What am I
End it all here and
Is he with her
Could probably get
Did he kill them
This is what
What I wouldn’t give
I can’t go on like this
Find her no matter
I have that gun to use
For some reason, the robed people would be packed tightly around them on all sides, forcing them to struggle. Even if they called the people by name, there would be no reaction, no recognition, or even acknowledgement of their existence beyond that insane brand of staring, leering, and brandishing of weapons. None would strike at them, but they did threaten.
The mansion itself looked ready for demolition. Most of the windows were broken, jagged teeth of glass filling the frames. Paint was peeling from the outer walls, other spots bared and weathered grey. The roof was missing shingles, others barely attached. One of the doors was broken, hanging on its hinges. The other was whole. Above them, the clouds continued to twist and writhe, unthinkable demons there and then gone.
If they made it that far, there was writing on the door, looking burnt into the wood. The voices stopped here, utter quiet falling.
Per me si va ne la città dolente,
per me si va ne l'etterno dolore,
per me si va tra la perduta gente.
Giustizia mosse il mio alto fattore:
fecemi la divina podestate,
la somma sapienza e 'l primo amore.
Dinanzi a me non fuor cose create
se non etterne, e io etterno duro.
Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate
The words stayed there for a few minutes and then changed somehow between a blink, seeming as if they had always been in a language they could read.
Through me you pass into the city of woe:
Through me you pass into eternal pain:
Through me among the people lost for aye.
Justice the founder of my fabric mov'd:
To rear me was the task of power divine,
Supremest wisdom, and primeval love.
Before me things create were none, save things
Eternal, and eternal I endure.
All hope abandon ye who enter here.
If they continued through the broken doors, they found themselves in a dusty and blackened ballroom, as if a great fire had happened there. It smelled musty and old, the reek of rot everywhere. Three hallways led off this main room. The one to their right had a sign above it reading 'Sechs'. The two hallways to their left had signs reading 'Schwarz' and 'Sunde'. They could only see maybe a half-foot into the hallways, the rest of them too dark to see from their distance. From the one labeled 'Sechs', a small child peered out at them, that red hair unmistakable. He was dressed in a shapeless grey outfit, something like an institution might have for mass use. He watched them for a moment and dodged back into the darkness, his footsteps heard running back down that hallway away from them.
In the blink of an eye, all three of the hallways were covered with bright yellow tape. The word 'ACHTUNG!' was written on the tape.
Directly opposite them was a white door, a thin strip of light barely visible from under it. All colours were there and more that defied the spectrum. They came in a constant stream, but grew brighter and then dimmer as if someone had captured that infamous lightning in a bottle inside that closed room. There was a warmth about that door and something dark at the same time, the light and the darkness put together. Enscribed on its white surface were the words 'ich bin'.
The white door was the only thing in the room not destroyed, broken up, or about to fall to ruin. It stood bright like a beacon although the black rot was right up against it, about to overtake it.
The dark haired man that stood before the door didn't look nearly as inviting. Behind his glasses, the man's brown eyes were cold and threatening, much like the gun in his hand. Like Rufus Shinra, he wore a white suit, about the same height and having the same haircut as the Shinra heir although their hair and eye colour were different. He didn't say anything yet, merely stood in front of the door as if guarding it.
Unlike last times, he had company. Reno, Elena, Rufus, a shadowy and transparent Larxene, Tseng, and Shu stood alongside him. All of them had their weapons out, and all were bloodied as if having been in a great battle before the dreamers' arrival. Cissnei stood behind them all, resting her head against the door and speaking low to it as if comforting it.
Of Schuldig there was no sight.
The Shu watched them, his eyes dulled and looking nearly dead. All of them looked that way, as if they couldn't hold on much longer. "Time is nearly up," he said.
With that, they woke up.
When: Tonight
Where: The Dreamscape
Rating: R
Warnings: Adult themes, gore
Summary: ((This goes out to all of Schuldig's friends, notably HOJO, Cissnei, Farfarello, Elena, Sasori, Yachiru, Rikku, Shu, Logan, Reno, Sephiroth... others such as Crescent, Sellz, Rufus, Zack, Tseng, Tifa, Cloud, Kuroune, and anyone else who has talked to him and feels like getting it, go for it. It is entirely optional for -everyone-, even those close to him, if they see this or not. They are free to leave at any time or not take part at all. Being there is entirely optional. I am putting this here since last time I had a few people tell me they wanted to do reactions of their chars waking up or what they did in the vision/dream. One shot reactions, please?
This is a dream, so they can't do much really. The people will ignore them, and the hallways are barrier blocked.))
They found themselves standing on what looked to be paper-thin glass hanging in midair over nothingness. Above, below, left, right, and behind them were swirling masses of clouds. Black and grey wisps boiled and rolled around each other, sparks of eerie lightning flashing through. The clouds forming into clawed beasts shapes, talons falling just bare inches short of seeming to tear into them. Eyes full of crazed electricity drew close before falling apart and sliding back into the clouds. The thin glass pane that they stood on had nothing holding it up in that nothingness. A trail of those glass sheets stretched before them, leading to what looked like a sprawling Bavarian designed mansion a short distance away. The panes were in poor repair, spiderwebs of cracks filling each one. When they took a step, minute cracking sounds could be heard, the threatening sound seeming to foretell them falling away at any second. Despite that, the paper-thin slats of glass held. Each was a dirty grey, like glass that hadn't been cleaned in years.
The glass walkway continued for ten feet until it reached the front yard of that haunted house, the glass here stained an ugly shade of black with brown splotches. Cracks ran through it as well, that same creepy cracking sound heard with each step. That thin glass holding up defied physics since in that courtyard, more than a hundred people all dressed in hooded black robes walked back and forth.
One had his hood thrown back, insanely gleeful eyes watching them. His hair was done upwards, suggestive of horns on his head. His lips were pulled into a Joker-esque grin, a cigar clamped between his teeth. He watched the newcomers, lifting hand into a fist. With a sharp snick of metal, blood-stained claws sprouted from between this dark-Logan's knuckles. He threw his head back, cackling loudly before lifting his other hand. Clutched between his fingers were locks of reddish hair, Cissnei's head swinging at the end.
Off to the side stood a Shu, his face sharp and smirking. One hand rested on the sword at his side, the other on the breast of a rather scantily clad Sellz. Chains hung at Shu's waist, all of them ending in handcuffs, something a slave trader would carry. His gaze was leering as it ran over them, as if assessing their value to him. The Sellz licked her lips enticingly before sliding her hand under Shu's shirt. A button popped off Shu's jacket, falling to the glass pathway before falling to dust.
Sasori moved among them, blood running in a sluggish stream from the cornres of his mouth. "It's your fault!" he screamed at them as they passed. "It's all your fault!" Blood dripped from the many wounds that covered him, the doppleganger giving them a glare before moving back into the crowd. As he did, he passed a Reno and Elena, the two of them breaking from their kiss to look at the wanderers, both laughing harshly. It was like ravens cawing sharply. Weapons were in their bloodstained hands. Elena's eyes were cruel and hateful, watching the group as if she would like nothing more to sink her nails into their skin and rip, rend, and tear. Reno tapped his EMR on his shoulder before activating it, the snap-crackle of electricity loud and painful sounding.
A Farfarello moved from the crowd, the gaze from his single golden eye as hard and stern as a hanging judge's. Knives were in his hands, redness coating their sharp edges. He watched them with the hunger of the insane, wanting to lunge at them. A Zack wound through the others, his face torn and bloodstained as it had been when he had been dead back on Gaia. He didn't look at anyone, merely kept walking, his blue eyes glazed and blind-seeming with death. Sephiroth was there as well, his mako-green eyes alight with madness, his sword in hand. He stopped and stared at them as the others had, the vicious grin of a hunter or killer on his lips. Kuroune moved among them, his mouth splotched with red, his fingers clawed for some reason. The amount of blood on him was amazing, as if he had ripped into a victim and shoved his face right into the gore.
Cissnei stepped out of the crowd, her eyes cold and angry. Her usually sweet face was twisted like a witch's, teeth snaggly and her hair a mess. Her weapon was in her hand, fingers clenched so tightly around it that blood dripped down the metal. "I hate you!" she screamed at them. "I always hated you! I just wanted to make Tseng jealous!"
And yet, none of them made a move towards them. They all simply watched.
At the very edge of where the wandering people were stood Schuldig. His back was to them for now. Strangely enough, he was wearing the robin's egg blue jacket that had been thrown away or destroyed by someone long ago. Instead of how it had been stained, most of it was clean. Most of it. Just above the small of his back were torn open holes, skin and other tissue spilling out of them. Blood stained all around them. The telepath finally did turn towards them, and most probably wished he hadn't.
One of Schuldig's eyes was gone, the trailing end of the optic nerve laying limply against his cheek from the empty socket like a crimson spider. Crude black stitching ran across his forehead, the sort that a mortician used when putting a body back together. The bloodless edges of his skin beneath the stitching puckered together in an ugly line. Schuldig's lips were bluish, his fingernails the same, as if he had already bled to death or suffocated. His single eye watched them with hellish awareness, as if he were trapped in this nightmare he couldn't wake from and knew everything going on. The front of his jacket was splattered as well with blood, the entrance wounds from what had speared him there. He wore no shirt beneath the jacket, his bared skin bearing the 'Y' mark of an autopsy. Like his forehead, it was stitched with that ugly, thick black thread, something usually hid by a mortician when they prepared a body for burial.
He stared at them a moment longer before he turned away and wove his way easily through the crowd and through the broken doors of the haunted looking house.
If they followed, the moment they crossed into the area of the robed crowd of people, the thoughts of everyone in Purgatorium began to speak in their heads.
I wish I
Back home they’re probably
What am I
End it all here and
Is he with her
Could probably get
Did he kill them
This is what
What I wouldn’t give
I can’t go on like this
Find her no matter
I have that gun to use
For some reason, the robed people would be packed tightly around them on all sides, forcing them to struggle. Even if they called the people by name, there would be no reaction, no recognition, or even acknowledgement of their existence beyond that insane brand of staring, leering, and brandishing of weapons. None would strike at them, but they did threaten.
The mansion itself looked ready for demolition. Most of the windows were broken, jagged teeth of glass filling the frames. Paint was peeling from the outer walls, other spots bared and weathered grey. The roof was missing shingles, others barely attached. One of the doors was broken, hanging on its hinges. The other was whole. Above them, the clouds continued to twist and writhe, unthinkable demons there and then gone.
If they made it that far, there was writing on the door, looking burnt into the wood. The voices stopped here, utter quiet falling.
Per me si va ne la città dolente,
per me si va ne l'etterno dolore,
per me si va tra la perduta gente.
Giustizia mosse il mio alto fattore:
fecemi la divina podestate,
la somma sapienza e 'l primo amore.
Dinanzi a me non fuor cose create
se non etterne, e io etterno duro.
Lasciate ogne speranza, voi ch'intrate
The words stayed there for a few minutes and then changed somehow between a blink, seeming as if they had always been in a language they could read.
Through me you pass into the city of woe:
Through me you pass into eternal pain:
Through me among the people lost for aye.
Justice the founder of my fabric mov'd:
To rear me was the task of power divine,
Supremest wisdom, and primeval love.
Before me things create were none, save things
Eternal, and eternal I endure.
All hope abandon ye who enter here.
If they continued through the broken doors, they found themselves in a dusty and blackened ballroom, as if a great fire had happened there. It smelled musty and old, the reek of rot everywhere. Three hallways led off this main room. The one to their right had a sign above it reading 'Sechs'. The two hallways to their left had signs reading 'Schwarz' and 'Sunde'. They could only see maybe a half-foot into the hallways, the rest of them too dark to see from their distance. From the one labeled 'Sechs', a small child peered out at them, that red hair unmistakable. He was dressed in a shapeless grey outfit, something like an institution might have for mass use. He watched them for a moment and dodged back into the darkness, his footsteps heard running back down that hallway away from them.
In the blink of an eye, all three of the hallways were covered with bright yellow tape. The word 'ACHTUNG!' was written on the tape.
Directly opposite them was a white door, a thin strip of light barely visible from under it. All colours were there and more that defied the spectrum. They came in a constant stream, but grew brighter and then dimmer as if someone had captured that infamous lightning in a bottle inside that closed room. There was a warmth about that door and something dark at the same time, the light and the darkness put together. Enscribed on its white surface were the words 'ich bin'.
The white door was the only thing in the room not destroyed, broken up, or about to fall to ruin. It stood bright like a beacon although the black rot was right up against it, about to overtake it.
The dark haired man that stood before the door didn't look nearly as inviting. Behind his glasses, the man's brown eyes were cold and threatening, much like the gun in his hand. Like Rufus Shinra, he wore a white suit, about the same height and having the same haircut as the Shinra heir although their hair and eye colour were different. He didn't say anything yet, merely stood in front of the door as if guarding it.
Unlike last times, he had company. Reno, Elena, Rufus, a shadowy and transparent Larxene, Tseng, and Shu stood alongside him. All of them had their weapons out, and all were bloodied as if having been in a great battle before the dreamers' arrival. Cissnei stood behind them all, resting her head against the door and speaking low to it as if comforting it.
Of Schuldig there was no sight.
The Shu watched them, his eyes dulled and looking nearly dead. All of them looked that way, as if they couldn't hold on much longer. "Time is nearly up," he said.
With that, they woke up.