Zelos Wilder (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
chosen_gigolo) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
caughtinanetwork2012-04-25 01:22 pm
chosen_gigolo) wrote in caughtinanetwork2012-04-25 01:22 pm
Entry tags:
[Dream - Interactive!]
[Cruxian angels don't need to sleep save for what little the brain requires to keep functioning properly. Zelos is no exception to this rule and schedules one day a week to rest and recharge his mental faculties, having learned the hard way that not doing so meant losing precious control over his words, so Wednesday night finds him tucked away in bed, hair braided to keep it from tangling as he moves in the night.
But of course, as is usual for Vatheon, Tethe'alla's Chosen is not left in peace even to sleep.
The Dreamberry, as the SFCs had turned into this week, clicks on and broadcasts not the usual more angular features of the adult Zelos Wilder, but instead a young boy no more than seven...]
[The scene is one of a well tended rose garden, blossoms in full bloom and reaching for the sun in every sunset shade from the lightest pastel yellow to the deepest, almost purple-y red. The young Zelos sits in the shade of one of the bushes, plucking blades of grass from between his sprawled legs, bored and neglected. Mother had sent him away, Father was away again on "business" (and Zelos, being a bright child, is well aware of what sort of "business" his father attends to, the kind with simpering laughs and too much perfume...), and even Sebastian is too busy with matters of the household to play with him today. So he sits alone in the shade and tells his troubles to the roses...]
That funeral the other day... so I'm the Chosen, now? Why would they commit suicide? It's good, to be special. Everyone has to love you, then.
[The world is an ocean of whiteness and the young Zelos sinks halfway up his shins trying to run through it, leaving little divots behind to slowly be filled up by the falling snow. He spins happily, laughing and sticking his tongue out to catch snowflakes, kicking a spray of powder into the air in front of him and watching it float back down to earth. There's something magical about the world in white this way, something pure, and the young Chosen runs here and there across the garden as if it's an entirely new place, as if he'd never seen it before.
Finally he calms in his running around, whirling to face the figure behind him with a large smile, face flushed pink from exertion and the biting cold.]
Mother! Isn't it wonderful?! Let's make a snowman!
[In the waking world, the adult Zelos tosses in his sheets, unsettled by the depictions of his unconscious mind.]
((ooc: Please specify in the comment subject whether your character is responding in video or interacting with the dream! Hopefully it's clear but just in case... other characters can interact with bitty!Zelos in the first dream as they like. The second is for Zelda to respond to, but other characters are welcome to witness it as it unfolds and say something via SFC/Dreamberry if they so choose. I warn you Zelos might flip his shit about people seeing that though...))
But of course, as is usual for Vatheon, Tethe'alla's Chosen is not left in peace even to sleep.
The Dreamberry, as the SFCs had turned into this week, clicks on and broadcasts not the usual more angular features of the adult Zelos Wilder, but instead a young boy no more than seven...]
[The scene is one of a well tended rose garden, blossoms in full bloom and reaching for the sun in every sunset shade from the lightest pastel yellow to the deepest, almost purple-y red. The young Zelos sits in the shade of one of the bushes, plucking blades of grass from between his sprawled legs, bored and neglected. Mother had sent him away, Father was away again on "business" (and Zelos, being a bright child, is well aware of what sort of "business" his father attends to, the kind with simpering laughs and too much perfume...), and even Sebastian is too busy with matters of the household to play with him today. So he sits alone in the shade and tells his troubles to the roses...]
That funeral the other day... so I'm the Chosen, now? Why would they commit suicide? It's good, to be special. Everyone has to love you, then.
[The world is an ocean of whiteness and the young Zelos sinks halfway up his shins trying to run through it, leaving little divots behind to slowly be filled up by the falling snow. He spins happily, laughing and sticking his tongue out to catch snowflakes, kicking a spray of powder into the air in front of him and watching it float back down to earth. There's something magical about the world in white this way, something pure, and the young Chosen runs here and there across the garden as if it's an entirely new place, as if he'd never seen it before.
Finally he calms in his running around, whirling to face the figure behind him with a large smile, face flushed pink from exertion and the biting cold.]
Mother! Isn't it wonderful?! Let's make a snowman!
[In the waking world, the adult Zelos tosses in his sheets, unsettled by the depictions of his unconscious mind.]
((ooc: Please specify in the comment subject whether your character is responding in video or interacting with the dream! Hopefully it's clear but just in case... other characters can interact with bitty!Zelos in the first dream as they like. The second is for Zelda to respond to, but other characters are welcome to witness it as it unfolds and say something via SFC/Dreamberry if they so choose. I warn you Zelos might flip his shit about people seeing that though...))
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[..he says as he stumbles in the process of turning away. Whoops! Oh well, he totally meant to do that! Excitedly the young Chosen begins packing handfuls of snow into a ball, rolling it into a sturdy base for what he envisions as an epic snowman, one everyone will come from miles around to see and praise his talent at snowman building despite never having built one before. His mother will be so proud that she'll envelop him in her arms and hold him close, boasting about how her Zelos is the cutest most talented...
Well, okay, that's over the top. All he really wants is to make Mother smile. Maybe a snowman will achieve that.]
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An attack spell.
Disregarding her own advice, Zelda runs as quickly as she can in the bulky winter dress she's stuffed herself into, flinging Zelos out of the way and behind the ball of snow they've created. She takes the hit, looking around frantically and seeing him laying there. He's safe.
Shortly afterwards, the commotion of the guards in the background reassures her that the threat is over for now. Her knees finally give way as she falls forward into the makings of the snowman, spraying the young Chosen with crimson-tainted snow.]
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See the red snow melting into his gloves.
Dying the ground.
Staining his mother's coat.
The scream that pervades the air sounds inhuman and Zelos isn't even certain it actually came from him as he scrabbles for his mother's prone form, too much in shock to shed tears or pay heed to the spray of her blood that stains his cheek and coat.]
Mother, you're bleeding! Oh Martel, that's a lot of blood... You're bleeding a lot! [A glance up reveals guards not too far off, standing over a woman they've forced to the ground. He doesn't care, all he can see is help. Help that needs to be here, not there. Help her, help her] Someone! Quickly! Come quickly!
[His voice still seems to come from someone else. It's high, panicked, desperate to be heard yet not loud enough to catch attention of the guards. Not loud enough, they're not fast enough, Mother is...]
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[She tries to smile up at him, though she can't see his face anymore. Zelda reaches up to stroke his cheek, trying to soothe the hysterical edge to his voice. Why is he so upset? It's alright. She doesn't mind if it hurts as long as he's okay. Finally her hand makes contact with his face. Unbidden, words that aren't her own start to come to come to her lips.
"You shouldn't have been born."
That doesn't seem right, does it? It's not his fault he was born, that someone tried to hurt him, that she shielded him.]
It's not your fault...
[And then her hand drops to her side, eyes going blank.]
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[The scream rips not from the child but the adult as Zelos jolts to wakefulness, panting upright in bed with fingers tangled in his blanket as if curled around someone's hand. Her hand.
It was a dream he'd had before, replayed over and over by his mind like some morbid film reel but never so vivid, never so real save for when it had happened...
Never different...
It's not your fault...
Instead of slowing, his breath hitches, heart pounding.
It's not your fault.
That isn't... She couldn't have. She couldn't have said that when he knows, he knows what she'd really felt, that he'd ruined her life, that he was a symbol of everything she hated, everything she couldn't abide. Those weren't the words he knew, the words that had been etched into his psyche for nearly his entire life. He shouldn't have been born.
It's not your fault.
A weak, tortured sob chokes out of him and Zelos hunches over, forehead against his knees and shoulders shaking.]
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You're here.
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He reaches for her and hides his face against her neck, crying openly and unabashed, like a child.]
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It doesn't even matter. Zelda just rubs his back quietly, murmuring comforting nonsense into his ear.]
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It's not your fault.
It rings strangely in his thoughts, like a microphone out of sync, broadcasting in two different voices. His mother's tone is fading, far away and ethereal and wrong. She'd never said that. She'd hated him. He knows it with every fiber of his being. And Zelda...
She'd been trying to help. She doesn't know any better, she just.. always trying to help, always fixing things, never leaving anything well enough alone...]
Get out.
[It's a croak, a weak scratch of voice. He'd meant to pull it together, to say he's fine, failing that he'd have preferred a simple 'you should go'. But no, instead, he can barely choke out a rude dismissal.
He's too drained to care, too urgently needs her to leave, to stop touching him, stop trying to make it all better.
It's not. It never will be.
He licks his lips and tries again.]
Just... get out, alright? I don't need this.
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It isn't a matter of need. If you change your mind, I'll be right next door.
[She heads out, shutting the door softly behind her. She'd wanted nothing more than to stay. Hopefully he was absorbed enough with his own thoughts that he couldn't tell.]
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((ooc: Feel free to have people comment here if they would but he may very well yell at you and kill the feed x.x; ))