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

[judicialassistant]

[ Beside Kazuma, Susato can feel the temperature drop with his desperation. There is a quiet moan that escapes her lips, and she tries to close her eyes tighter in protest. The heavy weight of rejection suffocates her, replacing all the hope for the future with which the dream began, and she starts to shiver. She is shaking her head, sharing in that same desperation--

Until finally, she is met with an arm to the face that makes her stop. Her breathing, which had been quick and erratic, slows to something normal and she slowly opens her eyes, reaching for whatever had hit her automatically. It settles upon Kazuma's wrist, gripping firmly for a couple seconds before she loses that strength.

It's still dark. Maybe in that brief moment of her consciousness creeping back to her, she doesn't remember what she saw at all, but she can already tell it will come back to her in bits and pieces--starting with the faint dripping of blood. The scent of iron.

A familiar samurai's ponytail. ]

Kazuma...?

Sender: Futaba Sakura

[mwehehe]

[Ah... she knows this sort of disappointment. Kazuma had seen it in fact, back when she first arrived with the voice of her mother telling her she was a disappointment. When they had talked after, she had even said he could talk to her if he needed, because she understood.]

You know that dreams aren't reality, it's your brain making you think it's real. If your dad is like my mom, I think he'd still love you. Be proud of you, even. Even if you're kinda grumpy sometimes.

sender: Sumire Yoshizawa

[feale]

[ For the most part, Sumire has been trying to mind her own business when it comes to the passive dreams. They show up on her lantern from time to time, but she figures it's none of her business.

That said, there's something about this one that makes her stomach drop, and when her eyes pull away from the image, her face is pale. She can't help but send a comment, even though she doesn't know the sender in person. ]

Um, excuse me... are you okay?

Sender: Kashuu Kiyomitsu

[redbeauty]

[ He feels like he just witnessed something he wasn't really supposed to see. Something raw and personal and secret. It had been cute at first, and quite wholesome, but the way that it ended was... ]

I'm sorry. I know we don't know each other, and I'm sure your friends have already told you what happened, but I wanted to ask if you were okay. Just because it was just a dream doesn't mean it can't affect you, so...

Sender: Brontë Wyvernwind

[makingmyway]

[ Dorian had certainly heard about this kind of thing happening, but...seeing it now is much more difficult than he had expected. Not just for witnessing something meant to be private, but the emotions that came with them even more so. He understood those feelings, to a degree, but he also knows that he would personally never want to see them put on display like this either. ]

I apologize, I know we don't know each other. And I'm sure others have asked already, but are you all right?

sender: beat

[stillarhino]

[At first, Beat didn't have any intention of watching the dream when the crystal picked up the signal, but there was something about how the dream began that made him hard to look away. He couldn't help but grimace slightly as he watched it play out, seeing the bond between son and father. Maybe it was a tinge of jealousy but one thing he knew for sure is that it was something that he would never understand.

But when the dream shifts and changes, his eyes widen and his chest tightens as he watches the scene unfold. And before he knew it, it was over. That was... just a dream, right? Not some memory of some kind?]

yo that was one helluva dream
nightmares probably a better way to go about it

[He'd written the words on the journal without much second thought. Still in shock after seeing it unfold, he found it hard to offer anything else more encouraging.]

sender: Barok van Zieks

[discourtesies]

[It's strange, how he almost sees an echo of himself and Klint in the dueling figures. The younger yearning to imitate the older, wanting nothing more than to make them proud and see that in their expression.

Barok sighs where he lays, after the dream has ended. He has no right to speak of Genshin to the man, he knows. But even so...

The following morning:]

The imagination can be a cruel and unreasonable thing, would you not agree, Mr. Asogi?