sᴏʟᴅɪᴇʀ BLUE (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
firstroar) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
ximilialog2021-11-02 06:24 pm
firstroar) wrote in ximilialog2021-11-02 06:24 pm
dreamwalk two | ota
CHARACTERS: Blue, any sleepin folks out there
LOCATION: Someone's subconscious
DATE: Late Oct/Early Nov, pre-mission things
CONTENT: Psychics gon' psychic, dreams gon' dream...it's free dream/memshare real estate
WARNINGS: none in the tl; tagged as needed
It happens one of two ways:
outside
inside
LOCATION: Someone's subconscious
DATE: Late Oct/Early Nov, pre-mission things
CONTENT: Psychics gon' psychic, dreams gon' dream...it's free dream/memshare real estate
WARNINGS: none in the tl; tagged as needed
It happens one of two ways:
outside
When he sleeps, Blue's subconscious stretches itself outward, instinctively drawn to things familiar to itself: Feelings, imagery, names...bonds already made or half-formed. It's in a Mu's nature to connect in this way, to be linked in thought and emotion, and this happens even in sleeping. The universe he hails from lacks much of the color and diversity and freedoms of others', but there are common lived experiences to be tethered to, for better or worse.
Peril and pain, longing and loss, hope and harmony...while Blue reprocesses his own volume of them, he unconsciously seeks out meaning in those notions which might flicker throughout the station in minds other than his own.
That means a routine recollection or predictable dream comes with something new this time.
inside
The door swings both ways, for when Blue is asleep, he can't consciously keep it locked, can he? So those who have even a passing capability to perceive matters of the mind or heart, be it magic or something more, could find themselves drifting out of their own dreamspace and into his own, where pastel marble floors mold effortlessly with sheer metal surfaces dappled with clouds that shouldn't hold any weight, let alone a person's.
It's where the sky is no sky, but a gaping field of stars not unlike the view outside a station window...save for the massive, red planet crowning the horizon. Beyond it, a pale blue dot no bigger than what Earth's moon would be glimmers in the dark. A lyre's strings are plucked from some unseen place, filling the place as one would fill a vast, empty room, and Soldier Blue stands at the edge of the horizon in his old, familiar vestments and headgear, absorbed in...something...until the shuddering of the dream's veil prompts him to acknowledge the presence passing through.
Red eyes turn to fix on the interloper, unsure of what they are perceiving yet.
This is still simply a dream, after all.
no subject
No. I only...have the words and memories from those who were there. That happening...I came to be here after it.
[and he's partly grateful to have missed that particular mission; he knows what a mind feels like when it suffers, when it dies...but he doesn't know what it means to shift so dramatically into a monstrous state like that.
he doesn't want to know.]
no subject
（ but if one corrupted, and one seemed ready to — that track record is enough to suggest that it will inevitably occur again. he drapes his bandaged over his drawn-up leg in casual repose, though doing so puts his back to the viewing window. ）
How susceptible are you to the effects of a like corruption?
no subject
his eyes stay downcast for a beat longer as he considers the question.]
I wonder... [but he doesn't know for sure.] Mental contamination...it isn't uncommon where I come from, but I have grown to know its like.
Perhaps if it is a similar effect, I can avoid it.
[but if it's unknown to his senses, who can really tell?]
Have you seen it before? [he looks to Itachi's face.] A human, corrupted.
no subject
（ there are many forms of it in his world. whether it is a slow, spiraling, self-inflicted descent into the morass like orochimaru, or something more directly insidious like danzō and his embedded sharingan — stolen from his clansmen after the slaughter — or the impure resurrection of the nidaime hokage, or the curse of the uchiha themselves.
it can mean all that, and more. ）
If you have a means to strengthen your defenses, you should consider it.
（ most people would find it more difficult to fight against mental intrusion more than physical strength. the power it took alone to enter one of his dreams is not something he would trust in anyone, and it is one wielded dangerously by an enemy.
but now that he has encountered this man both dreaming and in the living world, the suggestion is also made with consideration for the fact he seems truly gentle. kindness does not easily withstand the infliction of cruelty on others, and, once corrupted, it cannot be rebuilt. there is an echoing whisper of something very much like distant sorrow — the lonely howling echo of a cold wind scouring the glacial bones of a bleak tundra — there and gone in the span of a heartbeat. yet, perhaps most clearly, it was not for himself. ）
no subject
instead of thinking on himself, his focus shifts:] Will you tell me? What your world is like.
[even if he has the means to impose himself to pull that information doesn't mean he will.]
no subject
( it is said with no sense of apology to it, but not unkindly. itachi has always been dangerously self-aware of more than himself. if he were to speak on his world and another from it were to follow him, what secrets may he have given away? he would never forgive himself for endangering another from konoha, incidentally or otherwise.
equally as much, putting himself in a position that may garner pity is unconscionable and he will resist it violently if necessary. what he has carried is still his to carry. death did not prise that burden from his hands, nor grant him absolution.
even for those familiar with a place torn and ravaged by war and blighted with strife, who may offer understanding more than quiet, dawning horror — he would not lay the realities of his home across their shoulders when they are perhaps more burdened than he. a boy, young and terrified of fire, desperate for his life, wearing a prisoner's garb may well be in the latter category. )
It holds no relevance here.
( his regret may have brought him to this point, but the nature of it is not for others to know. )
no subject
either way, the door is shut, and Blue doesn't take umbrage at it. he instead lets his gaze linger on Itachi for a moment longer before it returns to the window, seemingly content in silence.
for him, it's never really silence, after all.]
no subject
the ring had been removed during his medical treatment, and he has carried it in a pocket rather than put it on his left. its absence feels strangely — heavy, in that moment, and his fingers twitch, curling against his palm, folding over a lifeline burnt and severed.
silence is easy to endure, welcome and more comfortable by far than conversation, but there is no reason to stay. he gives it a few moments, and then: ）
Thank you for your time.
（ with that, he stands. there is no wasted motion to the effort, a dancer's easy grace. blue gets an acknowledging nod, and then itachi continues on to the dormitory. ）
no subject
there really is something striking about that person, he thinks. the contrast of the severity of wildfire to the placidity of a lake - a controlled countenance doubtless made from several layers. he still doesn't know precisely what it was that could've drawn his sleeping mind to his and can only guess with what little he knows of these impressions.
perhaps he's even more impactful a presence solely because of how different he is to the others. that may factor in, too...
...Blue realizes this man will...likely find many of the effervescent folks here very tiring.
oh, dear.]
no subject