Martel Yggdrasill (
untwisted) wrote in
dreamcrystals2023-10-06 09:35 pm
Entry tags:
dreams are a window to the soul
Sender: Martel Yggdrasill
To: Everyone
Subject: Passive dream recording
CW: Combat, blood, death, racism, genocidal ideology, fate worse than death POV
You stand on a field that looks as though it's seen better days. Plants are sparse and dry, yet before you a battle seems to be underway for this very place. You're a few yards away from the action, standing behind your three longtime companions who you've been in this situation with many times before. You begin focusing your mana, gripping your staff near your chest with your right hand while it builds. When the moment arrives, you thrust it forward and high with both hands.
"Acuteness!"
Light briefly surrounds the others. There is a teenaged boy with shoulder length blonde hair wielding a rather large purple sword. He has glowing, translucent rainbow-colored wings floating over his back, and he hovers above the ground as he battles. There's also a man with long blue hair that's been pulled back who wears a cape. He fights with a very unique double-ended blade that's bigger than he is. Finally, her third companion may be easily recognized by you as Kratos. He's battling with a sword and also has shining wings, though his are blue.
The small force that opposed you is all but defeated, but an armor-clad individual who clearly leads them takes an opening and rushes past the others in your direction. You feel a deep sadness for an instant. At one time, you trusted them, but yet again you've been betrayed. That feeling is soon replaced with great panic. Although from the look of this area there's nothing worthwhile here, something behind you must be protected at all cost. You know disaster will befall everyone if this person reaches their goal.
Almost impulsively, you rush into their path, stretching your arms out in a defensive move.
"Stop this!"
Without hesitating, they draw their blade and plunge it into your stomach. You lurch forward, your staff clattering against the ground as pain overwhelms you. Your opponent has finally stopped, but only, it seems, to retrieve their weapon from your abdomen.
As they pull out their sword, they growl at you hatefully. "Out of my way, you filthy half-elf."
The next few moments seem to be mass confusion. You can feel your blood gushing from the wound and lose all strength in an instant, toppling over backwards. You can hear screaming voices quickly drawing nearer, but it's hard to make out if they're saying anything. For a moment, you close your eyes. Against your quickly cooling body, your tears are almost painfully hot.
The sounds of a scuffle come from next to you, and when you open your eyes your companions are above you. The teenager and the man with blue hair are on their knees on either side of you, and Kratos stands closely next to them. They're all three horrified and devastated; the boy is already crying. "Kratos, you have to do something!" he exclaims, turning to him.
You know it's in vain, and from the looks on the others' faces they seem to suspect as much. Still, Kratos holds out a hand and a healing light surrounds you, but you can't even feel it. After a few moments he stops, closing his eyes and dropping his head grimly.
"No!" the teen sobs, turning back to you and looking at you desperately. The other man seems to be fighting tears of his own.
You feel such sorrow right now, and so guilty for leaving them like this. You recall the words your killer spoke, words you've heard countless times over your lifetime. That makes you the saddest of all. With the last of your strength, you manage to speak. "I wish that one day...I could see a world...free from discrimination..."
Your eyes close one last time and all drains from you. You're dead. It's all over.
And yet it's not, because you're suddenly able to see and hear everything going on around you again.
"...Sis! ...How could you?!" The boy still kneels next to you as he addresses your killer.
The man in the cape has stood up. "...Human! Your kind must not be allowed to live!"
Kratos is also glaring daggers at the assailant. "...How far are you willing to go to take control of the mana?"
The teen speaks again. "I'll never forgive you... You humans are all the same!"
They prepare to battle, but your thoughts drift to a time long before this. You were with the younger boy, as always.
"Hey Sis, is it weird that I feel bad for them? Even though they hate us?"
You feel yourself welling up with pride. "Of course not, Mithos. All of this prejudice and discrimination is truly sad."
"Yeah, because when it comes down to it, we're really all the same! It'll be nice when we can all live together and not think about that."
"Right!" You're grinning from ear to ear. "So let's keep working towards that peaceful world and not worry about what they think right now!" You believe what you're saying with every fiber of your being.
But Mithos' smiling face fades. Now, you're in a strange chamber filled with odd machines. You float over most of the room. You can see and hear everything, and your emotions are intact, but there is literally nothing else you can do. You have no body, no mouth. Already you feel such overwhelming sorrow.
In the room, you can see Kratos and the blue-haired man wearing the cape. There is also another man with long blond hair in a tight white and yellow outfit. The viewer won't have to question his identity, as those same rainbow-colored wings of light are a sure giveaway.
"Since we're switching over now, I've realized something else we can use the declining world for. I'm thinking of building a ranch."
The others seem concerned, but confused. Finally the man in the cape speaks. "...You mean to solve their food problems?
The older Mithos almost scoffs. "No. To solve the exsphere problem."
"Mithos, you can't! You must know how wrong that is!" Your horrified cries only reach yourself, echoing uselessly in your consciousness.
Although he continues speaking, the other two are already clearly aghast. "Our supply is already low, and if it takes another 3000 years we're definitely going to run out of Cruxis Crystals. The best solution is putting those humans to some use. Of course, we have to give them some hard work to do to fuel them properly, but this way we can keep track of them and harvest them as necessary."
"No!" The third man shouts as though he'd just boiled over and couldn't hold back anymore.
"Something wrong, Yuan?" Mithos scowls at him coldly. With his attention fixed elsewhere, Kratos looks in your direction with a concerned frown for a moment.
Yuan seems to be having a lot of trouble controlling his temper. "Yes, all of that! It's sick! You can't do this!"
"Please stop him, Yuan..." You're not desperate in your futile imploring; it's more supportive than anything. You know he's too dependable to give up easily.
"You're saying you intend to stand against me?" Mithos seems surprised, but he maintains his imposing demeanor. "When I'm doing all this for my sister?" The emphasis definitely implies something, but it's so obvious to all present that there's no explanation.
"That's not– I'm–!" Yuan angrily stumbles over his words for a few moments. He, too, shoots a pained look in your direction, and finally seems to get his thoughts in order. "I'm against your ranches, Lord Yggdrasill. That's what I'm saying!"
"It's a good thing it's not your call, then," Yggdrasill replies condescendingly. Yuan immediately storms out of the chamber, and with an annoyed sigh he continues. "At least Sylvarant is your responsibility, Kratos..."
Kratos clearly doesn't like this either, even though he hasn't said anything. As Yggdrasill turns to look at a device, the man gives you another pitying frown.
"Say something to him, please." You know he probably won't, and that's nothing to hold against him. He wouldn't make Mithos feel all alone when he's been suffering so much.
"So we'll get the Desians to handle the dirty work..." Yggdrasill continues explaining his scheme for a bit longer. "But we can discuss this more later." With that he gives Kratos a dismissive wave, floating off to check another machine.
Kratos grits his teeth, and though he speaks quietly it's not hard to miss when you don't have ears. "I'm sorry... This..." He hurriedly leaves with all his troubles.
You're not at all angry or resentful that the other two hadn't talked him out of it. You don't blame them for anything. All you feel is a horrible sadness. You want to sob, but there's no way to do so in this state.
"Please remember, Mithos... Remember what we wanted!"
The despair can only build up where it is, having nowhere else to go.
"...Maybe, if people like us never existed, things wouldn't have–"
It's over. She must have woken up.
[ooc: You may wake up crying if you particularly got into the emotional aspect of this. As another note, if you feel like your character might pay attention to irrelevant things, you could notice she had a ring on her left hand during her death. You'd really have to be into details she's not focusing on, though.]
🍃 🍂 🍃 🍂 🍃 🍂 🍃 🍂 🍃 🍂 🍃 🍂 🍃 🍂 🍃 🍂 🍃 🍂 🍃
[Not longer after this recording is finished, Martel pens a message to the journals.]
I'm so sorry if you saw that. Please try to not dwell on it.
To: Everyone
Subject: Passive dream recording
CW: Combat, blood, death, racism, genocidal ideology, fate worse than death POV
You stand on a field that looks as though it's seen better days. Plants are sparse and dry, yet before you a battle seems to be underway for this very place. You're a few yards away from the action, standing behind your three longtime companions who you've been in this situation with many times before. You begin focusing your mana, gripping your staff near your chest with your right hand while it builds. When the moment arrives, you thrust it forward and high with both hands.
"Acuteness!"
Light briefly surrounds the others. There is a teenaged boy with shoulder length blonde hair wielding a rather large purple sword. He has glowing, translucent rainbow-colored wings floating over his back, and he hovers above the ground as he battles. There's also a man with long blue hair that's been pulled back who wears a cape. He fights with a very unique double-ended blade that's bigger than he is. Finally, her third companion may be easily recognized by you as Kratos. He's battling with a sword and also has shining wings, though his are blue.
The small force that opposed you is all but defeated, but an armor-clad individual who clearly leads them takes an opening and rushes past the others in your direction. You feel a deep sadness for an instant. At one time, you trusted them, but yet again you've been betrayed. That feeling is soon replaced with great panic. Although from the look of this area there's nothing worthwhile here, something behind you must be protected at all cost. You know disaster will befall everyone if this person reaches their goal.
Almost impulsively, you rush into their path, stretching your arms out in a defensive move.
"Stop this!"
Without hesitating, they draw their blade and plunge it into your stomach. You lurch forward, your staff clattering against the ground as pain overwhelms you. Your opponent has finally stopped, but only, it seems, to retrieve their weapon from your abdomen.
As they pull out their sword, they growl at you hatefully. "Out of my way, you filthy half-elf."
The next few moments seem to be mass confusion. You can feel your blood gushing from the wound and lose all strength in an instant, toppling over backwards. You can hear screaming voices quickly drawing nearer, but it's hard to make out if they're saying anything. For a moment, you close your eyes. Against your quickly cooling body, your tears are almost painfully hot.
The sounds of a scuffle come from next to you, and when you open your eyes your companions are above you. The teenager and the man with blue hair are on their knees on either side of you, and Kratos stands closely next to them. They're all three horrified and devastated; the boy is already crying. "Kratos, you have to do something!" he exclaims, turning to him.
You know it's in vain, and from the looks on the others' faces they seem to suspect as much. Still, Kratos holds out a hand and a healing light surrounds you, but you can't even feel it. After a few moments he stops, closing his eyes and dropping his head grimly.
"No!" the teen sobs, turning back to you and looking at you desperately. The other man seems to be fighting tears of his own.
You feel such sorrow right now, and so guilty for leaving them like this. You recall the words your killer spoke, words you've heard countless times over your lifetime. That makes you the saddest of all. With the last of your strength, you manage to speak. "I wish that one day...I could see a world...free from discrimination..."
Your eyes close one last time and all drains from you. You're dead. It's all over.
And yet it's not, because you're suddenly able to see and hear everything going on around you again.
"...Sis! ...How could you?!" The boy still kneels next to you as he addresses your killer.
The man in the cape has stood up. "...Human! Your kind must not be allowed to live!"
Kratos is also glaring daggers at the assailant. "...How far are you willing to go to take control of the mana?"
The teen speaks again. "I'll never forgive you... You humans are all the same!"
They prepare to battle, but your thoughts drift to a time long before this. You were with the younger boy, as always.
"Hey Sis, is it weird that I feel bad for them? Even though they hate us?"
You feel yourself welling up with pride. "Of course not, Mithos. All of this prejudice and discrimination is truly sad."
"Yeah, because when it comes down to it, we're really all the same! It'll be nice when we can all live together and not think about that."
"Right!" You're grinning from ear to ear. "So let's keep working towards that peaceful world and not worry about what they think right now!" You believe what you're saying with every fiber of your being.
But Mithos' smiling face fades. Now, you're in a strange chamber filled with odd machines. You float over most of the room. You can see and hear everything, and your emotions are intact, but there is literally nothing else you can do. You have no body, no mouth. Already you feel such overwhelming sorrow.
In the room, you can see Kratos and the blue-haired man wearing the cape. There is also another man with long blond hair in a tight white and yellow outfit. The viewer won't have to question his identity, as those same rainbow-colored wings of light are a sure giveaway.
"Since we're switching over now, I've realized something else we can use the declining world for. I'm thinking of building a ranch."
The others seem concerned, but confused. Finally the man in the cape speaks. "...You mean to solve their food problems?
The older Mithos almost scoffs. "No. To solve the exsphere problem."
"Mithos, you can't! You must know how wrong that is!" Your horrified cries only reach yourself, echoing uselessly in your consciousness.
Although he continues speaking, the other two are already clearly aghast. "Our supply is already low, and if it takes another 3000 years we're definitely going to run out of Cruxis Crystals. The best solution is putting those humans to some use. Of course, we have to give them some hard work to do to fuel them properly, but this way we can keep track of them and harvest them as necessary."
"No!" The third man shouts as though he'd just boiled over and couldn't hold back anymore.
"Something wrong, Yuan?" Mithos scowls at him coldly. With his attention fixed elsewhere, Kratos looks in your direction with a concerned frown for a moment.
Yuan seems to be having a lot of trouble controlling his temper. "Yes, all of that! It's sick! You can't do this!"
"Please stop him, Yuan..." You're not desperate in your futile imploring; it's more supportive than anything. You know he's too dependable to give up easily.
"You're saying you intend to stand against me?" Mithos seems surprised, but he maintains his imposing demeanor. "When I'm doing all this for my sister?" The emphasis definitely implies something, but it's so obvious to all present that there's no explanation.
"That's not– I'm–!" Yuan angrily stumbles over his words for a few moments. He, too, shoots a pained look in your direction, and finally seems to get his thoughts in order. "I'm against your ranches, Lord Yggdrasill. That's what I'm saying!"
"It's a good thing it's not your call, then," Yggdrasill replies condescendingly. Yuan immediately storms out of the chamber, and with an annoyed sigh he continues. "At least Sylvarant is your responsibility, Kratos..."
Kratos clearly doesn't like this either, even though he hasn't said anything. As Yggdrasill turns to look at a device, the man gives you another pitying frown.
"Say something to him, please." You know he probably won't, and that's nothing to hold against him. He wouldn't make Mithos feel all alone when he's been suffering so much.
"So we'll get the Desians to handle the dirty work..." Yggdrasill continues explaining his scheme for a bit longer. "But we can discuss this more later." With that he gives Kratos a dismissive wave, floating off to check another machine.
Kratos grits his teeth, and though he speaks quietly it's not hard to miss when you don't have ears. "I'm sorry... This..." He hurriedly leaves with all his troubles.
You're not at all angry or resentful that the other two hadn't talked him out of it. You don't blame them for anything. All you feel is a horrible sadness. You want to sob, but there's no way to do so in this state.
"Please remember, Mithos... Remember what we wanted!"
The despair can only build up where it is, having nowhere else to go.
"...Maybe, if people like us never existed, things wouldn't have–"
It's over. She must have woken up.
[ooc: You may wake up crying if you particularly got into the emotional aspect of this. As another note, if you feel like your character might pay attention to irrelevant things, you could notice she had a ring on her left hand during her death. You'd really have to be into details she's not focusing on, though.]
[Not longer after this recording is finished, Martel pens a message to the journals.]
I'm so sorry if you saw that. Please try to not dwell on it.

no subject
Mmh.
[But he would be a hypocrite to clam up now, he knows. At times here, it feels like he's gone too far in the opposite direction from his decade-long practically-public mourning—but then, in a place where he's suddenly a nobody and his family history is known to all of four people rather than the whole of the settlement, it becomes much, much easier to fade into the background.
After a slow breath, he gathers himself and returns his gaze to Martel.]
... My brother was killed twelve years ago, now. That tragedy... left me with an indelible feeling of betrayal. And until recently, I shunned all those around me as a result.
[There was no sharing of burdens during that time.]
no subject
The basic story is all too familiar and definitely makes her think of Mithos. She has wondered what might have become of him had he done what Barok just mentioned, and how much worse it might have been had he felt totally alone the entire time.]
I'm so sorry... I know that's a common reaction to loss, especially if it's so sudden and violent. It seems like you've been able to make steps away from that, at least.
no subject
Small ones, perhaps. Ones that I would not have taken if not for the persistent efforts of certain others... despite my protestations.
[But he's being a bit humble; compared to his old self, he's practically a social butterfly now. It's easy to think of your own accomplishments as unremarkable when you don't have an outside perspective, no matter what they are. He turns his attention back to her.]
Do you have anyone to confide in, Miss Yggdrasill?