dreamcrystals | dream recording 🔶 life flashing before your eyes

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dream recording 🔶 life flashing before your eyes

Warnings: blood, death, past suicidal ideation, decapitation

—You have to go, angel, your mother urges you as she holds back tears, your father doing what he can to lift a fallen, crackling beam for you to go past, his glasses askew. The smoke is already horrible, the heat alone suffocating enough. Your right arm stings and throbs, blood dripping from your useless hand, but you can't afford to pay attention to it. Vision blurring—

I love you, you sob.

You barely remember stumbling through the fiery hallways. Something lands on your back at one point. You notice that the knob of the front door has burned your hand before you collapse.

You'd almost thought that was the end. Maybe it would have been easier if it had been. You still aren't sure how long you were unconscious at the hospital.

—The horrific, twisted whale fall pulses, choking you even through the breathing charms with its dark sickness. You're infected, you know, the plague taking advantage of your Fae nature, and you can already feel it crawling through your veins to get to the rest of you. You wait as the magical bomb is activated, even after the dragon calls for all of you to flee. A young woman with white hair takes you by the arm.

Now's not the time to throw your life away, she cries. Your argument doesn't last long, the explosion blinding you with blue light and breaking your fragile wings against your back as you try to protect your friend with your body, at least.

That wasn't it. The dragon caught you as you were all launched out of the ocean, and the medical witches cured you before the infection was irreversible. What would have happened if you died in another world, you wonder?

—Your best friend isn't with them, you notice. Curious, you turn your eyes about to find him, however bad a decision that might normally be when you're fighting the rest of the group—but it's not like they want to attack you, anyway. When you finally spot him, you see he's unnaturally obscured in shadow, aiming at the back of your guardian, the man who took everything from you and then became your family.

You use your new magic to teleport in the way, ignoring the strain of it. Nobody says anything to you before you're struck by the bolt shot by your best friend and your guardian's blade. Your vision goes white with pain and you collapse in the murderer's arms.

You survived then, too. He healed you, for all the good it did.

—I know you wouldn't want to hurt anyone like this.

A redheaded prince in a devilish costume torn by the same kind of gem shards your hands and legs have become stands in front of you, hesitating. You've sunk to your knees, head hung and waiting in your hopelessness, dark pools growing around you and threatening to create more monsters from your nightmares. You don't care. You don't care about anything, knowing there's no point. He will end it, finally.

He lifts his sword and lets it drop fully on the back of your neck, slicing through—cutting off your awareness of the rest of you, but you have just long enough to realize you no longer have a throat to scream—

NO, PLEASE

Ferran wakes in a panic.

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[ That's probably what the Story Eater wants. That loss of hope, or at the very least, he probably would prefer it if people would forget. That way... when the time comes, whatever he is planning will be even more of a shock.

If Ferran says this realm has been good to him, however, she won't fight it with her own jaded ideals. There is a lot she's come to like about this place, too. ]

We all have good days, and... bad ones. It's important to see each other through both, I think. Although... it's alright to focus on the good, for a night like this.

For example... what is your favorite thing about Reverein?

[Ferran won't deny that there are a number of unpleasant things that come with this place, certainly, but they almost pale in comparison to the other things he's been through. He'll take a few horrible incidents here and there if it means he's not suffering all the time.

He doesn't even need to think about his answer, though:]

The people. [He's always been a people person, wanting to make friends and learn more about others. It's no different here. Everything else he likes is just an extension of that.]

A couple of my friends even came here from Geardagas, too. ... I'm glad I have the chance to spend time with them outside of there.

[ Susato seems to resonate with that answer. Perhaps hers would be similar. Leaving things as they were at the Port of Dover, she didn't know when she'd ever see Kazuma again (though the promise had always been there that they would, someday); but of course, there's always a trade off.

There is a distant smile. ]

Your girlfriends? [ Just assuming. ] What are they like?

[ Maybe if she gets him talking about them, he'll regain some of his energy for the walk to her house. ]

[He shakes his head no; sadly, he hasn't seen them, and doesn't expect to in the future, but... he'll take the opportunity to talk about them anyway. It's nice to remember the few good things he had; same as here, the people are what were most important to him in Aefenglom.]

They were both way too good to me. The first time I met Yona, I was ready to give up and let a monster attack me, but she told me to get up and refused to leave me. [He sighs.] And Rikku... she immediately took my hand to help me get settled in, and—well, there was something there where we had to have a magical bond with someone, to keep ourselves safe. She didn't hesitate to offer even though we'd just met.

[To answer the initial question, though:]

But the two who are here are Sora and Vanitas. They're... very different. From each other, I mean. [Despite looking nearly identical.]

[ Ferran doesn't seem like the type to just give up. Still, as Susato listens, she realizes this is the sort of reaction she'd been hoping for. She keeps smiling to encourage him, though she wonders if she could be as brave and selfless if it came down to it.

Is something like that... is that what it means to be a girlfriend? ]

How admirable...

[ She seems taken, even as he digests the story; but she perks up a little upon hearing a name she recognizes. ]

I've met Sora, at least. Do they know each other?

[He lets out the weakest of chuckles at her assessment, but it's genuine. He did admire the both of them. They were wonderful to him.

His humor doesn't fade much at the question, either, though still feeble.]

Oh, yeah. [Said with emphasis... They sure do know each other.] They're together. I always thought it was kinda weird, though... since they look almost exactly alike.

[He wonders about it sometimes, to be honest!]

If you ever see a mean-looking Sora around with black hair and yellow eyes, that's Vanitas.

[ Susato is a little slow on the uptake, honestly, especially the way he describes them as twins. Together could mean anything, but there's something about his tone that seems to simply something very specific.

And then she understands.

She tries to imagine Vanitas in her head, just based on what Ferran says, though she's having some trouble. ]

So... they're identical in appearance, yet also opposites?

[ Hmmm. She might need to sleep on that one... or at least walk on it through the cool night air. But she still won't rush Ferran. ]

Alike in appearance, opposite in personality.

[Thus the mean-looking comment.]

They have a whole deal that's too complicated for me to get into, but... I like them.

[... but if Susato doesn't want to drag them away from the half-broken house, Ferran will have to. He can feel himself getting less shaky at least, which means the adrenaline must be on its way out, and his remaining energy along with it. If they don't leave soon, he might not manage the walk without tripping over something at best.]

You said... you have more of those flowers at your place, right?

[ She's just about to nod, hearing Ferran confirm her thoughts, but when he starts to stand, Susato rises quicker and moves to help him. She'll grab whatever belongings she feel is relevant, the most important being the lantern, and of course Iris, and she starts guiding him towards the door. ]

Yes. Don't worry, I've got you.

[ The reassurance is more important to her than anything else, at least in her mind. Before they go, she stops to take off her deep purple shawl, draping it over Ferran and allowing it to hang over his shoulders. The cherry blossom pin hangs loosely on it. ]

Here. It's going to be cold. [ It's not much, but better than nothing. ]

[Though Ferran opens his mouth to argue—he's capable of at least fetching a coat or sommething—he ultimately just sighs in defeat.]

... right. [Well, moving on. He doesn't find the need to bring anything of his own with him, so he just heads towards the door; with little to his name and the house half-broken anyway, he finds no reason to lock it behind them, either.] How far is it?

I... think it took me about fifteen minutes?

[ To find Ferran's house, that is. That was with all of the things she had to gather before leaving.

With ample pause so they can both brace themselves, they venture out into the dark, with only the flicker of her lantern to go by. She's used to navigating this way by now, with how long the moon's been gone, though she's still not a fan. ]

Don't think about it. Tell me more about Vanitas instead. [ Sora, too, but she knows less about Vanitas. ] For instance, um... how did you meet them?

[Ferran doesn't mind the walk, or the dark. He's gotten used to wandering around at night for various reasons, and in some ways the quiet is nice.

But he'll answer her question, in case the night does bother Susato.]

A library. [Books had been a comfort, there: one of few such things.] I was trying to... figure out what I could even do, as a Fae. He stole one of my books by levitating it... [He sighs lightly.] I was always jealous he was a witch.

[He would have been so much less miserable. It would have almost been natural, really, even without the alternative to compare it to.]

... but he helped me think of ways I could still be helpful, do something useful. Encouraging in a kind of... rougher way. Like a challenge.

. . . That doesn't sound so mean.

[ Then again, Ferran described him as mean-looking, so maybe he just had... one of those faces. The fact that he was a witch is interesting, too. ]

Well... why did he want to steal your book about fae in the first place?

[Ferran lets out a quiet hum of acknowledgement, too tired to go into detail about whether Vanitas is truly mean. Maybe later.]

It wasn't about Fae specifically, but more about kinds of magic that I'd heard we could do...

[With a sigh, he reaches up to push some of his hair out of his face, but he doesn't take into account the fact that the cracks along his jaw have spread further than they were; he stops briefly in his tracks and takes in a breath through his teeth like he's just touched an open wound.]

[ Susato turns sharply to look at him when he takes that breath, and when he stops, which feels sudden, even if they're going slow. With his hair out of the way and by the light of the lantern, she can see the cracks forming on his jaw. Luckily trying to support him keeps her from trying to touch it. At first she thinks it must be some sort of wound that maybe has stopped bleeding, but the cracks aren't quite that deep color of blood. ]

Do you need to stop?

[ Maybe not a good idea. At first it seems like talking was keeping his mind off things, and maybe that's still the case, but she'll definitely back off some. ]

[He shakes his head in response to the question, letting out a shaky exhale to steady himself. The sharp pain fades quickly, at least. He glances down at one of his wrists, where the same marks have also spread. He wonders if they're worse at home, too.]

N-no, I can keep going. I just wasn't... careful enough.

[Better to get to where they're going than stay out in the dark. Normally it wouldn't be a problem, but with who knows what kinds of creatures that could come out at night, and Ferran not in a state to do anything about it, he'd rather not risk any more than they have to.]

. . . [ It's too dark. Maybe she's seeing things. She decides not to say anything about the perceived cracks... or much of anything at all, for the rest of the walk. She lets out a quiet, concerned sigh, trying her best to look forward on the path ahead, but she will steal glances and make sure he's alright, and speaking some words of encouragement. ]

It's alright. Take it one step at a time.

[ A short while later--more shaky breaths and frozen fingers later, and then-- ]

Almost.

[ Coming up on the house, she's ready to light the lanterns as she usually does, but fortunately for all involved, they're already lit. She doesn't question it too much. Just leads Ferran past them so he can use the wood railing for additional support. ]

[He's tempted to say he doesn't need the words or a slow pace at this point, but the fact is that he's grateful for them, after that stark reminder that he's falling apart, no matter how much work he puts into making his facade pleasant and put together.

He doesn't attempt to step away from her physical support, either, as cautious as he has to be about anything touching those cracks.

Once they reach their destination, he does his best to ignore the source of the light in the lanterns, simply remarking quietly:]

Looks nice.

[It's in one piece, at least, which makes it an improvement over his own house at the moment.]

[ She glances at Ferran at the compliment. By the passing light of the lanterns, the cracks become even more obvious, but even so, she remains focused on getting the door open and ushering them inside.

As she pushes the door, Ferran may catch glimpse of the attached greenhouse, and the glow of the dawn flowers (and lunar tears) coming from within, but the warmth from inside the house is even more inviting. She slowly eases off Ferran, keeping an eye on him as she leans against the door to take off her boots.

Thankfully, she can no longer see her own breath. ]

That was the greenhouse. [ Stating the obvious, perhaps, but it's at least comforting. There's a slight nod of her head in the direction they just came from. ] I'll show you tomorrow.

[ In the meantime, Ferran will find no shortage of the glowing petals and flowers around the house: all over the floors and in jars along shelves. ]

[Ferran makes no sudden movements; he feels steady enough on his feet that now the main problem is allowing himself too much time to think. And in order to stay out of his own head, he needs company, if not in his immediate vicinity, then close enough that he can consider them instead. This more than serves that purpose, and it sets him—not entirely, but—mostly at ease.

From what he can see at the moment, the house is clearly decorated with the touch of those who intend to make it a home, though a few things here and there (like those petals on the floor) make it feel a little unruly, but not in an unpleasant way.]

Thanks.

[He'll take the time to examine the decor from where he stands without bringing up anything else, waiting for Susato to take the lead in the conversation and their destination.]

[ The messy, unruly look is a small price to pay. Hopefully Ferran would never need the flowers in the same way her family did, but even as she is looking at him now, she knows there is more about him she has to learn.

Even with how much he has opened up already.

Now that they're inside in brighter light, she can hardly ignore it, but she asks gently, as if it's something she's been considering for a while. ]

What happened? [ She points at her own jawline to roughly indicate the equivalent spot where she sees the cracks on him. ] . . . Does it hurt?

[There is so much he never says to anyone, simply because he sees no reason to bring them up. So much of it just seems irrelevant in Reverein, even when the nightmares make it clear there's no way it isn't affecting him.

He doesn't even need to see where she's indicating to know what she must be referring to.]

I'm used to it.

[He lets out a slow breath that's not quite a sigh, lips pressed together.]

Something... was done to me, back home. It's like... a curse, I guess. It makes me stronger, for a price.

Stronger?

[ Physically? Her thoughts flash immediately back to their first encounter, when she flipped him. If that's true, it kind of makes sense, but she's still as curious as ever. ]

Not even being in Songerein or... or Geardagas has lifted the curse? [ Or Aefenglom? ]

I didn't have it in Geardagas yet. It was only when I went home, afterwards...

[... that he was "cursed." With how ingrained it feels in his being now, it's hard to imagine it going away. Still, he ducks his arms under the cloak Susato's lent him, as if to partly hide the marks from view.]

But... no. I guess being a dream self is still too close to home.

[ She frowns. Immediately, her instinct is wanting her father to look at it, but if the curse is magic in nature as he implies, they would both be rather out of their depth. All she can do is remain silent for a bit, thinking on how to proceed. ]

...Just follow me.

[ Yet even as she leads him to the guest room where he'll be staying, she'll think of more questions. ]

Is it the cracks themselves? Is that the... "price"?

dream recording 🔶 life flashing before your eyes

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