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irregularDream Effects: A slight feeling of disconnection. Confusion, lots of it, and the dawning awareness that you're having a (rather weird) dream.
Warnings: Rampant symbolism. Forgive me.
It's a bright, hot day and your arms are bare, but you can't seem to make yourself feel it.
Presume there's a field stretching away in every direction, wide and boundaryless and entirely empty; presume the grass is long and wild and tumbled by the breeze, and brushes against your sides as you walk. There's a hill - well, more of an incline, 'hill' seems a bit ambitious for what this is doing - and a small white building at the crest of it, a Greek temple of some sort with pillars and a triangular roof. Presume (and there's nothing else to see and nowhere else for you to go; you really might as well) that it's vitally important you get there.
Not that there seems to be any reason for it. When you get there the door's ajar and the building, too, feels quite empty.
But you're here now, and you figure you might as well go inside. You push open the heavy wooden door just wide enough to let yourself in, walk down a shallow flight of stairs. The door swings silently shut behind you and melts back into the wall.
Somehow, this simply feels logical.
(It's a dream. You're dreaming. It's kind of how stuff like this works--)
Presume you're standing in a long, narrow white room, at the bottom of the stairs. Black and white tiled floor, patterned like a chessboard; white-painted walls with high, white-framed sash windows on either side; the sunlight streaming in from both sides, casting pools of light across the tiles. The windows are closed, and yet the thin white drapes that frame them are billowing in a breeze you can't seem to make yourself feel. It's quiet here, and elegant, and utterly empty; you can't help feeling uncomfortable. It's a little bit like being in church, and you feel like you should lower your voice. You wonder if you're breathing too loud. You wonder where the Hell everyone's gone.
At the far end of the room, two heavy wooden doors and a large bowl of white flowers on a stupid, spindly little occasional table. Behind the doors-- something. People.
Pick one. Just try it.
Two doors, two rooms - you're hesitating.
You know (and you don't know how you do; you just know it's how things work, in dreams) you can only go through one. You should only want to go through one and yet the other one looks fine too, and... well, how on earth are you supposed to choose, when you can't see how there's even anything to choose between?
There's a person behind you, tall and dressed in some kind of vestments; there are arms about your neck. You know you must be dreaming, because you never heard them coming. Because you're not trying to fight--
"You see," they say quietly, "you can't decide, after all."
[Ken wakes up with the lingering feeling that he's missed something; he's not entirely surprised to realize that the stupid Dreamberry didn't miss a thing. Well, he probably was overdue for it. Could have been worse, he guesses. At least this time it wasn't stupidly embarrassi--
[Wait. What the Hell date is that supposed to be?]
... damn, how long was I asleep?
Warnings: Rampant symbolism. Forgive me.
It's a bright, hot day and your arms are bare, but you can't seem to make yourself feel it.
Presume there's a field stretching away in every direction, wide and boundaryless and entirely empty; presume the grass is long and wild and tumbled by the breeze, and brushes against your sides as you walk. There's a hill - well, more of an incline, 'hill' seems a bit ambitious for what this is doing - and a small white building at the crest of it, a Greek temple of some sort with pillars and a triangular roof. Presume (and there's nothing else to see and nowhere else for you to go; you really might as well) that it's vitally important you get there.
Not that there seems to be any reason for it. When you get there the door's ajar and the building, too, feels quite empty.
But you're here now, and you figure you might as well go inside. You push open the heavy wooden door just wide enough to let yourself in, walk down a shallow flight of stairs. The door swings silently shut behind you and melts back into the wall.
Somehow, this simply feels logical.
(It's a dream. You're dreaming. It's kind of how stuff like this works--)
Presume you're standing in a long, narrow white room, at the bottom of the stairs. Black and white tiled floor, patterned like a chessboard; white-painted walls with high, white-framed sash windows on either side; the sunlight streaming in from both sides, casting pools of light across the tiles. The windows are closed, and yet the thin white drapes that frame them are billowing in a breeze you can't seem to make yourself feel. It's quiet here, and elegant, and utterly empty; you can't help feeling uncomfortable. It's a little bit like being in church, and you feel like you should lower your voice. You wonder if you're breathing too loud. You wonder where the Hell everyone's gone.
At the far end of the room, two heavy wooden doors and a large bowl of white flowers on a stupid, spindly little occasional table. Behind the doors-- something. People.
Pick one. Just try it.
Two doors, two rooms - you're hesitating.
You know (and you don't know how you do; you just know it's how things work, in dreams) you can only go through one. You should only want to go through one and yet the other one looks fine too, and... well, how on earth are you supposed to choose, when you can't see how there's even anything to choose between?
There's a person behind you, tall and dressed in some kind of vestments; there are arms about your neck. You know you must be dreaming, because you never heard them coming. Because you're not trying to fight--
"You see," they say quietly, "you can't decide, after all."
[Ken wakes up with the lingering feeling that he's missed something; he's not entirely surprised to realize that the stupid Dreamberry didn't miss a thing. Well, he probably was overdue for it. Could have been worse, he guesses. At least this time it wasn't stupidly embarrassi--
[Wait. What the Hell date is that supposed to be?]
... damn, how long was I asleep?
Tags:
- .dream,
- :draco malfoy,
- :homura akemi,
- :nagi naoe,
- :ran fujimiya,
- :rise kujikawa,
- :vorona,
- :youji kudou,
- a wild youji appears,
- confused ken is confused,
- i don't get it,
- it's too early for this gdit,
- nice pjs kenken,
- paging dr. freud,
- shut up youji,
- sleep comas suck,
- this is your brain on ken,
- what is this i don't even,
- what where who how
no subject
Date: 2011-06-14 08:44 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-14 08:53 pm (UTC)[MOVING ON. By the by, that's a silly question. It gets a silly answer.] Yes. The entire wizarding world. The rest are Muggles, like you.
no subject
Date: 2011-06-14 09:14 pm (UTC)And how'd you get to be a wizard, then? I mean, I know you gotta be born one, but how's that happen? Like winning the lottery, or is it like having brown eyes 'cause your dad did?
no subject
Date: 2011-06-14 09:29 pm (UTC)Like having brown eyes. Or in my case, grey eyes. My parents were wizards, and their parents before them, and theirs before them. There hasn't been a Squib in the family tree for generations, last I checked.
no subject
Date: 2011-06-14 09:43 pm (UTC)[You use words funny, mister.]
So how'd it all start, then? I mean, you're a wizard because your parents are, and their parents were and so forth-- so where'd it start? Aren't you gonna run out of parents after a bit?
no subject
Date: 2011-06-14 09:45 pm (UTC)[he shrugs.] I presume Muggles came after wizards, and once their blood was dilute enough, they just stopped being able to use magic.
no subject
Date: 2011-06-14 09:58 pm (UTC)You mean back where you came from everyone was a wizard way back when?
no subject
Date: 2011-06-14 09:59 pm (UTC)Probably. Something like that. [he doesn't know. But go with it.]
no subject
Date: 2011-06-14 10:13 pm (UTC)[Not that Ken sounds too surprised. Maybe the reasoning's a bit weird and not exactly fair - not like you could help being a brown-eyed kid in a family full of people whose eyes were grey - but at least there was a reason. Some families don't even bother to give you that much before they decide you just don't cut it with them any more. Naming no names, mind.
[Dad.]
We got people can do psychic stuff where I come from. I guess everyone might have thought they were doing magic, way back when.
[And don't ask me why I'm saying this. Just figure it's only fair.]
no subject
Date: 2011-06-14 10:17 pm (UTC)[he's only vaguely bitter - he's used to it, he's over it. It is what it is, and even he managed to get past the prejudices his family instilled in him.]
Likely so. What sort of 'psychic stuff'?
no subject
Date: 2011-06-14 10:27 pm (UTC)[Families are families everywhere: that is to say, all varying degrees of messed up. You want a fairytale, go watch a Disney movie.]
Oh, uh... telepathy, I guess. Moving stuff with your mind. There's a couple others but I'm not sure what they could do. Guess it's not very common, but it's out there.
no subject
Date: 2011-06-14 10:39 pm (UTC)[what's a Disney? 8D]
Like our charms, then. But with slightly less effort.
no subject
Date: 2011-06-14 11:27 pm (UTC)They certainly didn't make it look difficult. But there ain't that many of them, from what I can see. I think we met like... [Ken breaks off, counting on his fingers.] About six of them for sure? Maybe eight, depending if the other guys could do anything. Not many.
no subject
Date: 2011-06-14 11:29 pm (UTC)Hm. Fascinating. How'd you meet them?
no subject
Date: 2011-06-14 11:40 pm (UTC)Just... around, I guess? One of them was hassling this guy I know.
[Yeah, Ken's a terrible liar. And not much better at evasions.]
no subject
Date: 2011-06-14 11:42 pm (UTC)I see. You know, I can't imagine meeting a lot of psychics out and 'around'.
no subject
Date: 2011-06-14 11:59 pm (UTC)[Can we talk about something else please?]
no subject
Date: 2011-06-15 01:48 am (UTC)I suppose so.
no subject
Date: 2011-06-15 02:15 am (UTC)I guess that'd explain why you did dream stuff at school, though. If you were learning magic.
no subject
Date: 2011-06-15 02:17 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-15 02:41 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-15 03:36 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-15 08:57 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-16 01:57 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-06-16 12:52 pm (UTC)(no subject)
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