kiva (
kivaember) wrote in
caughtinanetwork2012-04-25 09:16 pm
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Entry tags:
Dream | video after waking
Well, today had been an exciting day. He'd been attacked by a cat, made another new friend, and had his SFC turn into a Blackberry reject. Not that Gilbert was complaining. The starfish shaped phone had been sort of disturbing, and at least Gilbert can play games with this one. He didn't know what the 'dream' thing was, and no amount of fiddling about with the contraption yielded any results, so after dumping the thing on his night stand he crawled into bed and quickly went to sleep.
Where he dreamed.
It was familiar almost immediately. The smell of copper and smoke, eyes stinging from the heat, and fingers numb from gripping the leather hilt of a sword too tightly. He was young again, a fledging, and the sword was laughably big in comparison to his body. It hurt to lift it, but Gilbert could lift it, despite his scrawny, small frame. He was standing amidst the scene of destruction, the Teutonic Knights swarming between ruined, burning buildings, their white tunics splattered with blood and darkened with soot. The entire world was fuzzy, as if it was a bad film reel, but the smells and pain and heat were so sharp on his senses that it felt like he was there.
In Prussia.
Gilbert watched the scene go by in wry amusement. It had been a long while since he dreamed of something so nostalgic. When was this? The information arose in his mind immediately. The Prussian Crusades. Ah, yes, when Gilbert became Prussia, instead of the avatar of the German Order. His dream-self moved, and Gilbert was treated to a sort of out of body experience. He felt himself move, yet it was like he was watching himself from a few feet away. His dream-self padded through the burning streets, watching Knights and Prussians attack one another ferocity. Now when exactly was this? The Prussian Crusade had been very long and very bloody for him to place this scene exactly.
Gilbert stopped before where a group of Prussians had thrown a Knight onto a pyre, and watched him burn alive in his own armour. Oh, that type of barbarianism hadn't happened in a while. Gilbert's dream-self tilted his head when the Prussians turned from the dying man to stare at him. There was a brief moment of confusion between the two - Gilbert who was still disorientated by this vivid dream, and the Prussians at seeing what appeared to be a young child in the midst of battle - before one of the Prussians yelled. Gilbert was dressed in Teutonic Knight garb. Child or not, that was like wrapping a noose around your neck when around native Prussians.
Gilbert finally decided he didn't quite care where this nostalgic dream came from. It was a long while since he had fun like this, and he gleefully leapt into battle,sword swinging and laughing happily as he immersed himself in the bloodshed. How he had missed the weight of a sword! The adrenaline! The awesome sight of blood spraying everywhere and guts flying out and limbs being severed and-
and then Gilbert woke up.
He was still smiling when he did wake up, although it quickly faded when he realised the fun, vivid dream was over. Aw, he hadn't even finished killing enough people yet! How lame...
Gilbert pouted and sat up, now too sulky to go back to sleep. He blinked when he saw the screen of his blackberry thingy flash, and he reached over to it, picking it up and turning it over in his hands. Huh? Did it do something...? Oh, whatever. Gilbert quickly lost interest. Watching that knight get roasted alive made him hungry. He crawled out of bed and carried the blackberry with him while he went out of his bedroom to make something to eat.
Where he dreamed.
It was familiar almost immediately. The smell of copper and smoke, eyes stinging from the heat, and fingers numb from gripping the leather hilt of a sword too tightly. He was young again, a fledging, and the sword was laughably big in comparison to his body. It hurt to lift it, but Gilbert could lift it, despite his scrawny, small frame. He was standing amidst the scene of destruction, the Teutonic Knights swarming between ruined, burning buildings, their white tunics splattered with blood and darkened with soot. The entire world was fuzzy, as if it was a bad film reel, but the smells and pain and heat were so sharp on his senses that it felt like he was there.
In Prussia.
Gilbert watched the scene go by in wry amusement. It had been a long while since he dreamed of something so nostalgic. When was this? The information arose in his mind immediately. The Prussian Crusades. Ah, yes, when Gilbert became Prussia, instead of the avatar of the German Order. His dream-self moved, and Gilbert was treated to a sort of out of body experience. He felt himself move, yet it was like he was watching himself from a few feet away. His dream-self padded through the burning streets, watching Knights and Prussians attack one another ferocity. Now when exactly was this? The Prussian Crusade had been very long and very bloody for him to place this scene exactly.
Gilbert stopped before where a group of Prussians had thrown a Knight onto a pyre, and watched him burn alive in his own armour. Oh, that type of barbarianism hadn't happened in a while. Gilbert's dream-self tilted his head when the Prussians turned from the dying man to stare at him. There was a brief moment of confusion between the two - Gilbert who was still disorientated by this vivid dream, and the Prussians at seeing what appeared to be a young child in the midst of battle - before one of the Prussians yelled. Gilbert was dressed in Teutonic Knight garb. Child or not, that was like wrapping a noose around your neck when around native Prussians.
Gilbert finally decided he didn't quite care where this nostalgic dream came from. It was a long while since he had fun like this, and he gleefully leapt into battle,sword swinging and laughing happily as he immersed himself in the bloodshed. How he had missed the weight of a sword! The adrenaline! The awesome sight of blood spraying everywhere and guts flying out and limbs being severed and-
and then Gilbert woke up.
He was still smiling when he did wake up, although it quickly faded when he realised the fun, vivid dream was over. Aw, he hadn't even finished killing enough people yet! How lame...
Gilbert pouted and sat up, now too sulky to go back to sleep. He blinked when he saw the screen of his blackberry thingy flash, and he reached over to it, picking it up and turning it over in his hands. Huh? Did it do something...? Oh, whatever. Gilbert quickly lost interest. Watching that knight get roasted alive made him hungry. He crawled out of bed and carried the blackberry with him while he went out of his bedroom to make something to eat.