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concoursec2010-09-05 08:39 pm
willnotsubmit.livejournal.com) wrote in concoursec2010-09-05 08:39 pm
Things Fall Apart
Character(s): Mitsuru Kirijo (dreamer) and Rinoa Heartily (viewer)
Location: Dream-Observatory-By-Tartarus
Rating: PG
Open/Closed/Finished Closed
Summary: SPOILERS for November 4th! Mitsuru's memories of what happened that night.
The world is spread out below her, green tinted and bleak. The moon hangs overhead, swollen and sickly looking, and the miasma that clouds the air only makes it worse. It's difficult to breath, and the fact that she's hanging from a slab of metal doesn't help.
She is bound, struggling, helpless. The restraints on her wrists bite into her skin as she strains against them. Just like that cold presence is straining and pressing against her mind, trying to break free, screaming to be let out and carry out its duty-
…But it can't. She can't summon. The metal she's tied to draws the cold out of her mind, shoving it into the back of her head before draining it out. The sensation leaves her feeling sick.
But that doesn't compare to the knots her stomach gets tied into when she sees the figure standing below her. Even when marched in front of someone who wants their blood, her father still holds himself proud, unbreakable…And angry, from the way his shoulders are set back, and he glares through his single eye at the gun trained at him.
Her fingernails might well be drawing blood as her hands clench into fists. She wants to break free, to protect him-
But she can't. She can't do that anymore then she can push him out of the way, throw herself in front of him, or knock that gun away. All she can do is watch as he wrenches loose from his own confines, pulls his own gun out. Things go horribly still then.
And the harsh crack and bang of two gunshots breaks that stillness and silence. The sound echoes into the night, impossibly loud and makes her ears ring.
But she can still hear her father fall to the ground with a heavy thud. Her throat works, and she can feel herself cry out as she stares at his body.
"FATHER!"
Distantly, she can hear the others yelling…Something. It doesn't register with her, and they're all blurs in the corners of her eyes.
More gunfire explodes around her, and her restraints make a popping sound as they release and break. The floor rushes up to meet her, and in a moment she registers through the thick blanket of shock wrapped around her that she's falling. She staggers as she hits the ground, going to one knee before she can stand. When she moves towards the form crumpled on the ground, it's a confused, almost drunken walk.
Her father isn't moving. His sides are barely rising while his breath is raspy, and he doesn't react when she goes to her knees next to him. She brushes her hand over his face, trying to force words out of a suddenly choked up throat. Trying to say something that will get him to listen to her, to open his eye again, to please, please stand up.
He doesn't rise. He just lays there, with a pool of red spreading out beneath him. That red stain grows larger as his breathing goes faint. Her words fail then, and the only sound that comes out of her throat are heavy, wracking sobs as the center of her world finishes crumbling away.
Location: Dream-Observatory-By-Tartarus
Rating: PG
Open/Closed/Finished Closed
Summary: SPOILERS for November 4th! Mitsuru's memories of what happened that night.
The world is spread out below her, green tinted and bleak. The moon hangs overhead, swollen and sickly looking, and the miasma that clouds the air only makes it worse. It's difficult to breath, and the fact that she's hanging from a slab of metal doesn't help.
She is bound, struggling, helpless. The restraints on her wrists bite into her skin as she strains against them. Just like that cold presence is straining and pressing against her mind, trying to break free, screaming to be let out and carry out its duty-
…But it can't. She can't summon. The metal she's tied to draws the cold out of her mind, shoving it into the back of her head before draining it out. The sensation leaves her feeling sick.
But that doesn't compare to the knots her stomach gets tied into when she sees the figure standing below her. Even when marched in front of someone who wants their blood, her father still holds himself proud, unbreakable…And angry, from the way his shoulders are set back, and he glares through his single eye at the gun trained at him.
Her fingernails might well be drawing blood as her hands clench into fists. She wants to break free, to protect him-
But she can't. She can't do that anymore then she can push him out of the way, throw herself in front of him, or knock that gun away. All she can do is watch as he wrenches loose from his own confines, pulls his own gun out. Things go horribly still then.
And the harsh crack and bang of two gunshots breaks that stillness and silence. The sound echoes into the night, impossibly loud and makes her ears ring.
But she can still hear her father fall to the ground with a heavy thud. Her throat works, and she can feel herself cry out as she stares at his body.
"FATHER!"
Distantly, she can hear the others yelling…Something. It doesn't register with her, and they're all blurs in the corners of her eyes.
More gunfire explodes around her, and her restraints make a popping sound as they release and break. The floor rushes up to meet her, and in a moment she registers through the thick blanket of shock wrapped around her that she's falling. She staggers as she hits the ground, going to one knee before she can stand. When she moves towards the form crumpled on the ground, it's a confused, almost drunken walk.
Her father isn't moving. His sides are barely rising while his breath is raspy, and he doesn't react when she goes to her knees next to him. She brushes her hand over his face, trying to force words out of a suddenly choked up throat. Trying to say something that will get him to listen to her, to open his eye again, to please, please stand up.
He doesn't rise. He just lays there, with a pool of red spreading out beneath him. That red stain grows larger as his breathing goes faint. Her words fail then, and the only sound that comes out of her throat are heavy, wracking sobs as the center of her world finishes crumbling away.
Taking some creative liberty on where they are when they wake up and the like. >_>
Each time the scenes replayed themselves, the bile rose high into her throat and her stomach lurched. That man, he wasn't her father and she knew that, deep down she really did. He didn't even look anything like him either! There was no way that man could have been Fury Caraway! Yet she couldn't help but feel the gut wrenching pain that came with the obvious passing of someone so close. Which was absurd since it had been years since she'd been anything like close to her father, even longer if you considered the fact that she was twenty years in the future now.
She'd never had a dream like this before. It had felt so real and almost like she'd been living each and every moment personally despite feeling somewhat detached from the situation at the same time. How was something like that possible? It almost reminded her of the times Selphie had mentioned, but how was that possible? No, surely she was just being paranoid because it had been such a realistic dream. That's all there was to it.
That's it. Just a dream! Pull yourself together Rinoa!
Still that didn't keep the tears from dripping down her face. Rinoa chocked on a sob and curled up on her bed, Angelo's reassuring warmth soon joining her as the dog sensed her master's distress.
It was twenty years in the future. Was her father even alive? Even if he was, that didn't mean she wanted to see him or that he'd want to see her considering everything that had happened. Yet at that moment she'd never wanted her father more. Just this once she wished he'd come and hold her close like he'd done when she was a little girl. Just once more she wanted to feel his strong arms around her. They'd always seemed so capable and made everything seem possible when he'd held her in the past. It'd never happen, her chance at that sort of thing had passed long ago, well before Time Compression had ripped her from her own time. Instead she settled for turning over, arms wrapping around Angelo as her fingers threaded into the familiar fur. At least Angelo understood her, no matter what happened that at least wouldn't change.