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.
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[He does not count Personas and Shadows in this question because they're not what he considers people, whereas Blue clearly is.]
So you're...basically immortal, then?
[Some people might see that as a blessing, or something to be envious of; Shinjiro mostly finds himself thinking that would be exhausting. He has not even reached a tenth of this man's lifespan and he is tired down to his bones.]
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No one's seen the full, natural lifespan of a Mu yet. Perhaps they will learn it one day.
[or those aboard Ximilia will. but that doesn't seem to be useful information to them, does it?
he won't linger on it for much longer, in any case. the corridor leads them into a greater opening lined with artificial grass and winding walkways, ringed by a tremendously high ceiling. the sun room on steroids, in a way.]
This is the kind of place...that would come to mind when the children had their terrors and nightmares. They could run to us here in dreaming and be consoled.
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...That's nice.
[He can't remember the last time he had a safe place like that. He would've been a very small child -- the orphanage might have fed and sheltered him, but it certainly wasn't a place that went out of its way to nurture and raise its kids.
He isn't a child tho, he's already eighteen. Don't get it twisted :V]
That mean your dreams are always connected, or what?
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[and with the way Blue speaks of it, it's a comforting thing.]
Though it is strange...straying into a human dream. I wonder if, somehow...you called me.
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[The man makes it sound like a good thing, but all Shinjiro can think is how miserable it is to exist within his own mind, and for that to seep out into everyone around him just by virtue of existing. He already tries to keep a distance to ease that burden, but on the Ximilia there is nowhere to run away to. He must share this space if he is to undo his regret.]
Sounds exhausting.
[He rubs at his neck, glancing away.]
...Geez, hope I ain't your first human dream. Shitty as hell introduction.
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It's true that...I don't understand that terrible memory, but I understand the feelings behind it. Those aren't different between us, Mu and humans. So even though it wasn't a happy thing to encounter...I'm grateful for the chance to help. Even if only for a moment.
cw for passive suicidal feelings
...The kid's the one that needs the help. You saw that woman back there--she was his mom. That's why I'm here.
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to save that woman...his regret...
...wait...
he frowns. there's not enough understanding here.]
But...you weren't...the one who did that. [standing there yelling, that...that isn't the trigger.]
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No, it was my fault. That thing came from my soul. I lost control of 'im that night. He didn't stop thrashin' like that 'til I passed out from the strain.
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Blue gives him a more careful look.]
...It is not psionic. [unless it is some breed yet unknown to his senses. possible, but--] I don't understand.
dw where is my fuckin notif
No, it's a Persona. They're from my world. Only a handful of us who can summon 'em.
[It would be easier just to show him, but even if Shinjiro didn't typically have reservations about using Castor outside of intense life or death emergency, he especially isn't in a place to do it right now, after the memory of the fourth.]
anti-mu activity again smh
I've never encountered such a thing before... [but then, Shinjiro never heard of a Mu either!]
But the ferocity of those emotions...that moment...that's precisely what pulled you into the Ximilia.
I'm so sorry.
cw: suicidal feelings, self-loathing
Why're you sorry for me? I'm the one who fucked up.
[Shinjiro has never been able to be kind to himself about this. He rejects it from others, because it feels like a dismissal. He should get over it and move on, should stop blaming himself, should stop feeling so much guilt. Should, should, should. He should have just died in Japan and stopped existing already, but he's already more than aware that most things are not as they should be.]
Spend your sympathy on someone who actually deserves it.
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...I didn't sense intent there. In that memory. The intention to do harm.
You...didn't want to do that, did you?
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Maybe that's why he clings to his relationship with Erik despite the discomfort it causes them both; he's the only one who doesn't fling the words you didn't mean to at him like they're a kindness. The only one that seems to understand the suffering he caused regardless of what he wanted.
He takes a deep breath. Two. Digs his nails into his hands until angry red marks bloom on his palm. He doesn't want to yell at this guy who eased a stranger out of the nightmare they were having apparently just because he could, but it's hard. He's carried this misery in his heart for so long and he is so tired. Should Blue actually reach out, look further than the currently overflowing surface, a high tide on the beach -- he will find an endless ocean of grief and despair, poisoned through with guilt. Guilt is so pervasive in this psyche it seems to taint every fiber of him, as though if it were taken away he might simply crumple like a marionette doll with its strings cut.
He simply breathes until the urge to shout passes; his voice is terribly quiet when he finally answers:]
That doesn't matter. It was my fault. Intentions don't make her less dead.
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...boy is right: he's still quite young, isn't he? too young. yet another world where children are subject to horrors...it makes Blue's heart ache.]
No, they don't. [...] But to encounter someone...suffering so much for such a thing...would you not sympathize, yourself?
[he shakes his head a little.]
It isn't my place to say you're absolved; absolution is...such a personal thing, after all. And it's not something I can give you.
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I ain't got any business judgin' anyone else, but I ain't gonna feel sorry for 'em either, if that's what you mean.
[Sympathy and pity are so easy to entangle, especially when all feelings have been soaked so thoroughly in guilt and self-loathing.]
Suffering... [He scoffs, hands shoved roughly in his pockets.] Yeah, right. I'm the one that ruined that kid's life, not the other way around.
[It's a twisted aspect to how he sees himself, a refusal to acknowledge his own pain, as though it would diminish his culpability to do so. It does not take psionic power to see the wreckage that night has left of Shinjiro, but as always, he defers to the guilt--the only emotion he allows himself to lay claim to.]
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The only one alive to suffer seeing that...again and again...is you. There is no one truly in that memory but you. [because the others have long perished, gone to...wherever it is people go when the journey of life is over; even Mu don't know.
he turns his gaze away, toward a window that looks more to be one of the many within Ximilia than Shangri-La.]
It can be hard to remember that...in the midst of pain. But this might have changed something; maybe, somehow, you can remember it.
[or maybe not; dreams are mysterious things.]
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[It is not guilt only because of the woman's death. There were many factors in that situation that have contributed to the state he's reached now, two years later.]
It'd be worse if I didn't feel shitty about it, right?
[The guilt may tear him to shreds from the inside, but he feels like without it there is nothing separating him from a monster like Takaya. It feels like a lifeline to his own humanity.]
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it'd be worse, he asks?]
I suppose...I cannot say. There's only one you, the one right now, for better or worse. And the you who regrets so deeply...it pulled you to this cause... [Blue looks down the corridor: it is very definitely Ximilia now.] Responsibility or not...it's still enough.
slides back in two weeks late with starbucks
[It's a strange concept, the idea of enough. Shinjiro does not feel like enough; before the Ximilia, he was well aware there was nothing he could do or be that would be enough to make up the loss Amada suffered. Even now, in working to undo this wrong, he does not seek forgiveness for it. What has happened can never truly be erased, not entirely. He simply wants to reverse the consequences.]
no cookie?? throws phone down, smashes skateboard
You'll have to forgive...this outsider's thoughts. It's still in me... [he lifts his hand a bit to look at it, fingers curling a bit.] ...this drive to connect and console. If it's not because I was Soldier, it is because I am Mu.
[he looks over to him.]
These feelings...they resonate with feelings I carry. So I'll carry them in some way, too. But I'm not sad to do it.
I think...I want to see you realize your hope...and find a pathway forward through it.
cookies AND coffee ofc. (cw: suicidal ideation etc)
....He's been thinking of it, all this time, as more like an obligation. He was offered the opportunity to fix things, so he had to take it. He hasn't thought of himself as particularly hopeful about it, some part of him so worn out from living past that incident that he simply wished to be done, but ...
Maybe there's a thin thread of hope there, too. The thought of a version of reality where Amada could have maintained a comfortable life. Or maybe, at the very least, it's the hope of getting to die in peace, satisfied that he has done all he can.
He sighs, a little uncomfortable. He might not have any kind of psionic ability, but he can tell this man's comments are sincere, and he doesn't really know how to respond to that.]
...Guess I can't stop you from doin' what you wanna do. I really ain't anyone worth wastin' your time on, but...if you're gonna anyway, might as well know the name to go with the feelings. [He takes a careful breath -- in, out.] Aragaki...Shinjiro.
[He does not offer his given name lightly. There is nobody else yet on the station who knows it. But Blue watches this memory and says he will carry the feelings within it, and Shinjiro neither knows why nor has anything to offer him in return. Only himself, piss-poor exchange for his kindness as it might be.]
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[he'll use all the name given him, because if he didn't want it used, he wouldn't have offered!
Blue nods respectfully, turning to face him, hand on his heart.]
My name is Blue. [Soldier Blue, some faint voice echoes. he doesn't seem to acknowledge it.] If you do remember this when you wake...know that these moments...they still belong to you. They're not mine to share or distort.
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And the assurance that comes with it....he's not sure what to make of that, either, but something about the way Blue keeps making these earnest, sincere statements without expecting anything in return for them wrenches at the iron-shut gates of his heart with a crowbar, cracking it open by centimeters.
After a moment, he sighs.]
If things work out like they should, they'll disappear from the world that gets changed. Maybe along with me, if I'm lucky.
[He has only said it in so many words to one other person, and it was coerced out of him unwillingly, in a conversation where he'd felt backed into a corner. Perhaps it is because Blue simply led him away from his pain and his fear without demanding to understand it -- even as he speaks of a drive to connect -- that Shinjiro feels himself willing to admit this truth.]
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we can call this an endtag or continue if blue would react to it!