beat ☠️ daisukenojo bito (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
stillarhino) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
dreamcrystals2022-09-09 09:02 pm
stillarhino) wrote in dreamcrystals2022-09-09 09:02 pm
open 💀 first recording | passive dream
Sender: Beat
To: Everyone
Subject: Passive Dream Recording
Warnings: Some spoilers for the OG The World Ends With You.
Whenever this time of the year came around, a sense of dread would bubble up deep within him. It would start in his stomach and slowly make its way up to his throat, settling itself there. It was uncomfortable and no matter what he'd do to try to gulp it down, it remained stuck.
This day was no different.
Beat seems to be a few years younger, wearing a slouchy beanie with a skull sewn onto it, his hair pulled back and tucked underneath it. His usual headphones are absent from his head. He’s dressed in a school uniform, but his surroundings do not depict him to be in any such place.
Instead, he wanders Shibuya aimlessly—riding down the streets of Dogenzaka on his skateboard, perusing new albums available in Tower Records, even just hanging out at the convenience store by the Moyai statue. Everywhere but where he was supposed to be.
He reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone, navigating his way to the unread message from someone named “Rhyme”.
A moment passes before he types up a reply:
His message was cold and he knows it deep down. But he sends it anyway, tucking his phone away before he continues loitering about the city.
By nightfall, he finds himself staring up at a modest two-story home, standing just outside its gate. He doesn't know how much time has passed since he's gotten here, but he lets out a sigh, steeling himself for what was to come. The gate’s hinges creak slightly as he pushes it open, a plaque on the gate reading the family name “Bito”.
The lump in his throat still remains.
It isn’t before long that he finds himself standing in front of a Japanese man, dressed in business attire, his tie loose around his neck after a long day at work. To his side sits a rather tall woman with blond hair, an apron draped in front of her dress. He’s filled with dread once again, the pit in his stomach growing larger and deeper as a tightness begins to form in his chest.
Beat reaches out and hands over a card toward them. On it are his grades for the semester. They are well above the passing grade, but nothing spectacular. He knows they’re nothing spectacular. He knows he isn’t anything spectacular. Not in their eyes.
The expression on his face is hard to read as they go over his grades and Beat hasn’t said a single word throughout. His lips remain a straight line and his eyes appear to be downcast. Is it apathy? Is it fear?
He opens his mouth, ready to put himself down, ready to fight them. That’s how it always is after all.
“Good job, son.”
The words catch in his throat before they could leave him. Beat’s eyes widen and his mouth hangs open, staring at them. They look back at him with proud smiles on their faces.
“You did well, Daisukenojo,” said the man.
Beat recoils when he hears the name but doesn’t say anything at first. He continues to stare at them for a moment longer, dumbfounded by the turn of events. “Are you two serious?” he finally asks. His usual manner of speech is missing, but the same inflections and brash tone of his voice remain.
“Of course we’re serious.” This time it’s the woman who speaks, looking back at him incredulously. “You did your best, didn’t you? As long as you do that, we couldn’t be any prouder of you.”
The man stands from his seat and walks to Beat, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s eat out tonight to celebrate, all four of us. How does hot pot sound?”
Beat looks at the man, then the woman. Finally, the surprise on his face disappears and he lets out a laugh. His voice almost cracks when he speaks. “Yeah, hot pot sounds great, dad.”
He hears a quiet ring of a bell nearby. Turning towards the source, he sees a young girl with blonde hair and blue eyes smiling at him, a bell pendant hanging from a leather strap around her neck. He smiles back at her, blinking back the tears that begin to pool at the edge of his eyes.
And then he wakes.
To: Everyone
Subject: Passive Dream Recording
Warnings: Some spoilers for the OG The World Ends With You.
Whenever this time of the year came around, a sense of dread would bubble up deep within him. It would start in his stomach and slowly make its way up to his throat, settling itself there. It was uncomfortable and no matter what he'd do to try to gulp it down, it remained stuck.
This day was no different.
Beat seems to be a few years younger, wearing a slouchy beanie with a skull sewn onto it, his hair pulled back and tucked underneath it. His usual headphones are absent from his head. He’s dressed in a school uniform, but his surroundings do not depict him to be in any such place.
Instead, he wanders Shibuya aimlessly—riding down the streets of Dogenzaka on his skateboard, perusing new albums available in Tower Records, even just hanging out at the convenience store by the Moyai statue. Everywhere but where he was supposed to be.
He reaches into his pocket to pull out his phone, navigating his way to the unread message from someone named “Rhyme”.
Are you coming home soon?
A moment passes before he types up a reply:
ill head home when i feel like it
His message was cold and he knows it deep down. But he sends it anyway, tucking his phone away before he continues loitering about the city.
By nightfall, he finds himself staring up at a modest two-story home, standing just outside its gate. He doesn't know how much time has passed since he's gotten here, but he lets out a sigh, steeling himself for what was to come. The gate’s hinges creak slightly as he pushes it open, a plaque on the gate reading the family name “Bito”.
The lump in his throat still remains.
It isn’t before long that he finds himself standing in front of a Japanese man, dressed in business attire, his tie loose around his neck after a long day at work. To his side sits a rather tall woman with blond hair, an apron draped in front of her dress. He’s filled with dread once again, the pit in his stomach growing larger and deeper as a tightness begins to form in his chest.
Beat reaches out and hands over a card toward them. On it are his grades for the semester. They are well above the passing grade, but nothing spectacular. He knows they’re nothing spectacular. He knows he isn’t anything spectacular. Not in their eyes.
The expression on his face is hard to read as they go over his grades and Beat hasn’t said a single word throughout. His lips remain a straight line and his eyes appear to be downcast. Is it apathy? Is it fear?
He opens his mouth, ready to put himself down, ready to fight them. That’s how it always is after all.
“Good job, son.”
The words catch in his throat before they could leave him. Beat’s eyes widen and his mouth hangs open, staring at them. They look back at him with proud smiles on their faces.
“You did well, Daisukenojo,” said the man.
Beat recoils when he hears the name but doesn’t say anything at first. He continues to stare at them for a moment longer, dumbfounded by the turn of events. “Are you two serious?” he finally asks. His usual manner of speech is missing, but the same inflections and brash tone of his voice remain.
“Of course we’re serious.” This time it’s the woman who speaks, looking back at him incredulously. “You did your best, didn’t you? As long as you do that, we couldn’t be any prouder of you.”
The man stands from his seat and walks to Beat, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Let’s eat out tonight to celebrate, all four of us. How does hot pot sound?”
Beat looks at the man, then the woman. Finally, the surprise on his face disappears and he lets out a laugh. His voice almost cracks when he speaks. “Yeah, hot pot sounds great, dad.”
He hears a quiet ring of a bell nearby. Turning towards the source, he sees a young girl with blonde hair and blue eyes smiling at him, a bell pendant hanging from a leather strap around her neck. He smiles back at her, blinking back the tears that begin to pool at the edge of his eyes.
And then he wakes.
sender: eustace
...]
Have you ever walked dogs before?
no subject
naw aint ever had one before
why u asking?
no subject
no subject
id be surprised if u did dawg
cause u sure got a lot of them
how many dogs we talking about for this walking thing?
no subject
I'll compensate for your time.
no subject
aight im down to walk a couple of your dogs
no subject
When are you available?
no subject
got some time tomorrow
been doing some running to blow off steam cause i still dont got a skateboard yet
can probably drop by around then
no subject
I'll meet you at the dog park.
[Small pause.]
Is it difficult to acquire a skateboard?
no subject
been trying to make one cause i aint found none around here
dont got none of those things you can use to get things from home too so been just making do
no subject
[.....Huh, come to think of it normally one appears after such strange jaunts.]
Is it difficult to make?
no subject
[...]
why the hells it called that yo
and i dunno yet
i aint ever made one before
just fixed my old one when stuff needed replacing
[Yeah, he totally just... kept going there.]
no subject
He's just.
Not.
Going to comment.
...]
B A U B L E. Another word for a trinket.
[NO HE SHOULD MAYBE SAVE THE BOY...
Anyway.]
It's just like a snowboard with four wheels, isn't it?
no subject
was thinking it was gonna be weird if they looked like that you know
besides the hardware yeah kinda
no subject
Nevermind.
They're a round, glass ball, like this.
[Insert image of bauble.]
If you know the materials, I can refer you to a woodsmith in town. They might be able to build it.
no subject
yeah i know them
already got alphen working on the hardware and the old man said hes gonna help look for wood
its gonna be perfect if we can get someone to work on the wood yo
all thats gonna be missing after are the wheels
no subject
I'll give you the name then so you can get the body of the board done. As for the wheels... Someone who works with furniture might do, if not a toymaker.
no subject
and if it dont nuadha said they can make em too with some power they got
we gonna get this board done yo
[Oh yeah. It's all coming together.]
no subject
Sounds like it. Good luck.
1/2
no subject
...thanks wolfie
[He might not be very good at this kind of thing, but a thanks is the very least he could do.]
no subject
See you tomorrow.