002 - Dream Recording

[chippedsoul]

Sender: Kazuma Asogi
To: Everyone
Subject: Passive Dream recording


CW: Blood, Death, Naga?

Before there is any sort of scenery, there is warmth. A comforting breeze blowing, the sound of birds chirping, a flowing stream. A child's laughter echoes in the darkness. And then it turns to white. Like eyes adjusting to the sudden brightness, a scene starts to take shape.

Colors come alive, and there was the smell of fresh linen. Clothes being hung block your view for a moment as the world expands behind them. A grassy area with a rock garden and a Japanese-style wooden home, a yard of sorts. Cherry blossom petals were floating through the breeze from the nearby blooming trees, and down by the stream was the source of the laughter. A small boy with an older gentleman, probably his father.

"I got something!" The boy pulls on his rod with such enthusiasm, at the end of the line, a small guppy. "Aw, it's so small." The parent gives him a few headpats, a warm smile on his face.

"We all have to start somewhere." The boy looks up to him.

"Well when can I start practicing with a sword? It's been a year now!" As if the father expected this inevitable question, he laughs.

"Much older I'm afraid, but...I suppose your mother wouldn't be against practicing with a wooden sword." The boy's face suddenly lights up with anticipation.

"Really?! Ah that is--I would be honor if you could teach me the way of the Asogi clan." His excitement quickly replace with a stiff bow, failing to hide his giddiness. The father continues to have a warm gentle smile, as the edges of the dream shifts like static. As they move from the stream, they just miss a white snake slithering through the grass.

Like changing the channel on a television, the scene changes and you are brought inside the home of this boy and father. Both stood on opposite ends of the room, a change into training clothes and wooden swords in hand. The boy was intensely focused, breathing heavily to indicate they had been at this for a while.

"One more, just one more try." He had been attempting and failing at a technique apparently. And he stubbornly does not know when to call it quits and to try again later. His father, a sympathetic yet stern look.

"There is a lesson in knowing when to stop."

"I'll stop after this one. Promise." And he will keep his promise. His father simply sighs as he raises his sword. Not mad, just amused.

"One more it is then."

And so they spar, a bit one-sided, but it was a child training with a grown man. He just, needed an opening. One good hit through all these parries and he will have succeeded. "There!" Just as the boy thrust his wooden sword forward, he slips and lets out a yelp as he tumbles into his father instead. Father goes along with it as he "falls" onto the ground.

"Ahh, you found my weak point" He feign defeat, his free arm hugging his son. The boy groans. "I did not..." Thanks for trying to make him feel better, dad. His father just chuckles as he pats him on the head.

"You pushed yourself more than you could take. You'll get it next time after some rest." The boy knows this to be true, though he wish the session hadn't ended in such embarrassing way. Just as he was about to say something to his father, he felt something wet in his hand. Looking down, he's freezes with shock to find what appears to be blood on his hand, blood on his father's clothes. No, he couldn't have.

"Father-?" A look of horror on the boys face as the colors on his father's face fade. The scenery around them become harder to stay in focus, crumbling into a darkness until it was only them. His father's warm expression turns cold and lifeless.

"Why?"

Suddenly the dream felt like was speeding up. The boy tries to wiggle himself free, only to realize he couldn't feel his legs. He had no legs, just a long serpentine tail. Scales and fangs suddenly appear, giving the boy a more serpent appearance as he looks back to his father in a panic, confused, seeking help, answers.

But he was no longer on his father. He was suddenly left alone on the floor, his father floating away in the distance, leaving a trail of blood. His features became less life-like, more blood dripping as if he had been torn in various places on his body.

"No! Father, I didn't-!" The boy felt a heavy weight that kept him from going after his father, no matter how much he tries to reach for him with his bloody hand.

"I taught you better. No son of mine would ever take a life."

"I'm sorry!" Desperation in the boys voice, not wanting to lose his father. "I just wanted-I didn't mean for it to happen!" Please come back to me.

In that moment, you'll feel a coldness and being weigh down, sinking. The dream will then abruptly end.

Comments

[discourtesies]

[Barok's attention is momentarily diverted to the dragon, though for the moment he only takes a sip of tea so as to not further agitate the situation. He simply waits for the response.]

... Compelled by forces not unlike those that trap us in collective dreams here, correct?

[That's... well, it brings to mind a heavy subject. He can imagine the guilt associated with such an occurrence because, to an extent, he's experienced it. That their mutual female friend ultimately came out of that nightmare alive was only so much of a consolation...]

[chippedsoul]

Something like it, I suppose. But if you can believe it, my actions was for the good of the world.

[By the scoff and shaking of his head, he is not impressed.]

[discourtesies]

[The distinct frown on his face—moreso than usual—as well as his low tone say that van Zieks isn't particularly pleased with the idea, himself.]

Was that the hollow platitude offered to you? [If only he was holding his own cup rather than his host's. Hopefully it doesn't crack simply out of his displeasure.] Had the victims any say in this supposed good?

[chippedsoul]

Well...one simply accepted her fate. [She was a strange one, but her death was what eventually led to more.]

In that world, death isn't permanent, but many would rather find alternatives than just "die". And there was...but when it all happened, I was no longer myself. The memories as hazy at best during those times. [He shakes his head.] Regardless, it doesn't change the fact I let it happen.

[discourtesies]

[There are a number of complicated facets to this situation—more than even van Zieks would have pictured, despite his experiences in this dream showing him just how much was possible in these strange worlds.

However... he can't help but challenge that final statement.]

Am I to take it, then, that you did nothing to prevent these deaths?

[chippedsoul]

[Fang chirp when Kazuma unintentionally clench the hand that was on her head. He refuses to just say no, because that would be admitting he gave up. The alternative answer isn't any better. Though he wasn't particularly looking at Barok, he was definitely avoiding his gaze now.]

I failed in all my attempts. [For he had lost his mind.]

[discourtesies]

Then you did not simply let anything happen.

[Words mean things, Asogi! And even if the victims didn't remain dead—a question he intends to clarify soon enough—the man is still suffering over the thought of it all. That diverted gaze is one indication among many.]

There is no shame in failing against impossible circumstances.

[chippedsoul]

[HOH BOY. IF ONLY IT WERE THAT SIMPLE OF AN ANSWER. He just laughs uncomfortably.] That's all there to it? Even when those circumstances were created and born from within me?

[He glares defiantly at Barok, but there is a sense of doubt behind those eyes.] Those words hardly bring me much comfort.

[discourtesies]

[Van Zieks faces that defiance with an equal amount of contention in his own posture. He's not backing down out of courtesy this time.]

I would not expect them to. I merely intend for you to face the truth of the matter.

[Whether it brings Kazuma comfort... well, as long as it curbs some of that misery his subconscious has inflicted upon him, that will be enough.]

We all have demons within us, Mr. Asogi. Whether they lead to violence or harm... in the mundane world, our will is enough to prevent such actions. In ours, your will has been enough, however you may have questioned or faltered.

[His eyes narrow, though out of sympathetic frustration.]

Magical compulsions require more than our own efforts to deny. [Lower, and with some regret, he adds:] ... far more.

[chippedsoul]

. . .That just sounds like an excuse. [But he can't deny he had already considered the same reasoning, only to toss it aside. It just didn't seem right, to simply just blame "magic" for what he had done. What he couldn't stop. Fang makes a small whining sound as Kazuma drinks deep from his cup. Tea is sadly not a means to drink away his problems.]

I should have done more.

[discourtesies]

...

[Van Zieks puts his own cup down, just barely dismissing the urge to fold his arms instead. There is a difference between taking responsibility for your actions, regardless of the cause, and blaming yourself unduly simply because it's easier to think you had control. This smells distinctly like the latter, and as a result, his question comes out almost as a challenge.]

What, then, do you presume you should have done?

[Where's your proof, Asogi?]

You have had more than enough time to consider.

1/2

[chippedsoul]

I could have been stronger in my mental fortitude. Try harder to find the Storyteller sooner, or a means to confine it better, or just-I don't know, just anything! [Fang makes a noise again as her master gets all riled up.]

[chippedsoul]

[But his flustering doesn't last as he falters, unable to think of anything else. Anything, except...one thing he never considered, or wanted to. Cause it meant accepting failure in his mind.]

...Find a compromise. [He says in much quieter voice. It's only now that it's sort of being brought back into light that he realize that it's the one thing he never pursued.]

[discourtesies]

[Van Zieks can't pretend to know the exact nature of what such a compromise would entail, or how any search for answers might have played out. What he does know is that, given the younger man's current reactions, he did his utmost at the time to prevent the violence that occurred. While Kazuma and his companion react, the nobleman remains composed.]

Solutions always appear more achievable in hindsight than they truly were, Mr. Asogi. We are all limited by our circumstances.

[Apparently he has more to teach Kazuma than prosecution duties. But then, is that not what mentors are supposed to do—provide direction? Something to ponder about later.]

To earnestly examine one's mistakes and the factors that influenced them... is the a far more productive use of thought than to blame oneself for failure to achieve some undefined better.

[But perhaps, in light of that softer remark, Asogi is starting to reach that conclusion already.]

[chippedsoul]

[He makes it all sound so simple. It pisses him off more than actually bring comfort. He knows, he knows everything he said is right. He has certainly tried that angle in the past, but no matter what...]

I'd like to see if you can confidentially speak those words, once you've taken someone's life with your own hands. [It hits different, haunts a person forever cause you can never take back someone's life. It just never feels like it's enough, no matter what he does.]

[discourtesies]

[For all that he's heard, nothing has been said of a permanent loss of life. As a result, he faces the implied accusation of naiveté without faltering. Because unfortunately, the fact of the matter is... he knows what a visceral feeling it is to kill.]

I would not count my experience different from yours in any significant way.

[In duration, perhaps—but the end result was the same.]

[chippedsoul]

[A scoff.] Condemning a man from the comforts of the court isn't exactly the same as committing the act yourself.

[Is that good? Bad? Is he calling Barok a coward? What is this argument, he doesn't know. He just can't believe he's done anything to the same extent as him.]

[discourtesies]

[Barok could certainly bring that up—speak of his role in condemning a man for crimes he didn't commit, of how he stood by and allowed the Reaper to destroy those who escaped the justice of the courts. But those are not the instances most relevant here.]

Is that what you think I'm referring to.

[His tea cup is on the table. He folds his arms.]

I have not been so fortunate as to avoid the violent compulsion of magical forces, Mr. Asogi.

[chippedsoul]

[What else could he be referring to? But as he thinks about it, he remembers that nightmarish encounter with the prosecutor in a dream. He's been here for quite some time now, hasn't he? Barok has his attention once more.]

Here...?

[discourtesies]

[Van Zieks dips his chin, both as something of a nod and as a reaction to the grim memory.]

... Another who has entered my nightmares was not prepared in the way you were.

[Not only was Kazuma a capable combatant, but he was also well versed in the use of dreams to augment his strength—and his defense.]

[chippedsoul]

. . . [How is he suppose to feel about this? Sympathetic? A manner of kinship between them? More importantly, and what's bothering him.]

You seem to have taken it surprisingly well.

[discourtesies]

[The admission was merely meant to add gravity to his words—in the hopes that for once, Asogi will believe him when he tries to encourage him. He seeks no sympathy from the man.]

It has been some months since that time. The fact that the victim has refused to stay out of my affairs despite such an act and my attempts to establish distance between us... is also a significant factor.

[seriously susato get some self preservation]

Although it does not often leave my mind for more than a short while, were I to continually blame myself for the matter and act accordingly, I would harm that individual as well as myself.

[chippedsoul]

...People that we feel undeserving of their attention. [The way he said that, sounded like it was both to Barok and to himself. Even after all this time, there's a part of him who still wonder if this was all ok? It never feels right that he deserves to have anything. Fang coos when Kazuma goes quiet, lost in thought. A long sigh. But wallowing in such things is indeed unhealthy. He's working on it.]

I hate to admit you're right, that dwelling on such things can cause problems for others. But these thoughts won't ever leave me, as I know you understand.

[discourtesies]

Yes.

[Barok likely had an easier time of it, he knows—he was only possessed for such a short time, and he saw his victim so soon after, physically unharmed—but he can't say he'll ever truly forget that dream and his actions therein.

With a slow exhale, he retrieves his cup of tea to finish it.]

Perhaps someday the unconscious mind may release us from such frequent reminders... [It's a distant hope, but one nonetheless. He can't allow himself to wallow entirely in cynicism.] We can only attempt to make peace with ourselves until then.

[chippedsoul]

...Doubtful, but I'll learn to live with it. [He'll try.] Or we, I suppose. [He's trying. Once he sets down his tea, he gestures to Fang to move so he can move to stand.]

You may leave when you feel ready. [. . . . . .] Thank you, for this talk.