| | | Ghost in the Alley. The Meaning of Dreams. |  |
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Ethereal
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| | Subject: Ghost in the Alley. The Meaning of Dreams. Sun Oct 10, 2010 7:33 am | |
| So what is it that you dream of? Peace? A family? Something to love? Perhaps riches? Perhaps its just a life were you don't have to suffer any more? What have I been dreaming of? So much thoughts in this little bitty head that one can't help but feel the explosive currents carrying the blood in and out. Pumping. Pumping. Thumping and hammering like a drum against the walls of my inner temple.
Here I am, in school. Its the days of science. Sitting on the chair. Teacher has a grin. A child steps up and for whatever rreason decies that its time to put on a show of strange voices. Light and loud, deep and growling. Makes me think of those things that happen in the heavy metal songs. Another steps up, continues this. Each one. Chain by chain, met with an applause as they bring their own voice to the little show. Adding to the choir of madness that has burned its way into the class room. As it comes closer and closer to my turn I notice that the teacher's grin is only widening. His face turns to me. A wink. One that is more than a vote of condidence. Rather one that contains within it some kind of promise. A promise of things far darker than I can hope to image. A promise of the pit. Finally its my tunr. Slowly getting up. Nerves making my hands shake. The thumping within my temples still heavily previlant. Me constantly aware of it.
I go to make my voice. And decide on a growl. But no noise comes. I try again. And again and again. Before I realise that mmy mouth will not make a noise. Hands reach to it. Only to find skin. Perfectly smooth and sticky with sweat. No mouth. No hole. Skin closing up now arround my nostrils as the bell rings. It hums constantly. Moving in time with the thumping of my temple. Everyone stands, packing aware their bags. The teacher stands and takes a bow. He moves with a tray throughout the class, upon which beakers sit, placing on in front of each classamate. He turns with them to face me at the back of the class. Finally their grins mirror his. Twisted. Distorted. Something beyond reality. Something I don't want to look at and yet can't find the will to tear myself away from. They bow once again. Actors in this dark little comedy. They lift their beakers to their lips like a fine wine. All but the teacher who stands there in silence. He's become the grinnind bastard in my mind. A focal point of the room as each person swallows down the liquid within their beakers.
Burning now. Their grins unfaltering even as they spit up blood within the few seconds. Of swallowing that strange solution. Their necks turning red. As soething eats its way out from within. They shake an yet still stand as a hole opens up in their throat. Eyes now drawn to the grinning bastard as he walks behind his desk and removes a vat of liquid. The warning lable clearly acidic. He removes the top. Fear once again pumps through me. What will he do? Will I turn into a grinning revenant like the others? But yet. One sense of twisted realisation. That is in this nightmare. A strangly calming thought. I have no mouth. No hole to drink from. The grinning bastard seems to have noticed my realisation. Once again. That wink. That promise. He lifts up the vat. Removes the plug. And pours it all over himself. His movements a strange extasy. As the acid eats away at his clothes. His face and his body. Hi eyes were the first to go. Melting in their sockets. Everything began to be eaten away. The strange ivory white of his bones. Everything gone now. Everything but the grin. Still looking at me. The next class comes in. They open the door. Ignoring the corpses of their fellows. Ignoring me. Ignoring the grinning bastard. They sit down, take out their books. And sit. Waiting for class to begin. Another teacher comes in. Sits down.
And grins.
Sitting there...cat by the legs. A figure covered in spider webs. Soaked through. Doesn't look like he's much moved in some time. People looked at first. Kicking. Stabbing. Poking. Pissing. All trying to get some kind of response. But nothing. Not from the man. Nor from the cat.
So what kiddy winks have we learned about dreams? That they're absolutely fucked? I'd agree. But then. What else are they but reflections f life. And if thats the case. Just what does that tell you about our lives? Another dream. Another story. But the thumping. The drumming ever the same. Got the taste of soil now in my mouth. Bit of a change fro the last place where there was no mmouth to taste from. Kinda mmakes you mis that. Soil then a crunch. Something that tastes like pus. Spitting it out. ide eyed, black eyes. White mush. Maggot in the soil. Gotta realise now where I am. Rain pattering down. In a grave. Looks like its been dug for a funeral the next day. Coffins already been put down here. Whoever the poor bastard is they must not have really cared about him. Families tend to like the lowering of the coffin to be part of the funeral. But some heartless bastards just like to watch the dirt being placed on the coffin. These cunts don't really go there to say good bye to a loved one. They go there to watch the burial. To make sure that the mother fucker thats in there is really dead. Really buried. And isn't coming back. That said, whoever the person in the coffin was. Could well have been some sort of heartless bastard that deserved such treatment. Then again. Likely they'd get their comeupance in the after life.
Did they really deserve no sympathy in death?
Regardless. Bastard or bitch ( could well have been? who am I to know these things?) wasn't getting anything from me. Didn't know how I got down there. And I wasn't really going t be sticking around for the funeral. Rain was havy. And already the mud was slick aound the coffin. Water rising. Had to have thought at this stage that the graveyard keeper was a real bastard. Lazy or just cruel. Shouted out, called cried. I got nothing. Just the howl of the wind and the creak of the coffin beneath my feet giving into the mud. The mud itself, calling. Bubbling. Sinking slowly upards. Not as if it was to care for my cries. Didn't care how much I wanted out. All it wanted was to pull me down. Suck me in. Paniced then. Too much thought about the mud as I felt the water poling around my anckles. Wouldn't be long till the water turned to mud with the soil. And it pulled me in. Not letting go. Dived at the wall of dirt like a fucking cat. Clambered up a few feet. Managed to grasp the top only to have the slinking mud at the top give way. Clump of grass in my hand. Hit my head rather badly on the coffin lid. Felt the water and mud at my back. Cold and slimey.
Not friendly. But certainly welcoming.
It had me now. Wasn't gonna let me go. I knew it. Here we were. Sinking down together. Me and the bastard/ bitch in this coffin. The mud and rain draggin us down to hell together. Water swept over my face. Ever as I pulled and pushed against the mud's grip on me. They say that in things like mud and quick sand. You shouldn't struggle. That it'll only pull you deeper in the harder you fight. Well yeah. They say that. But I doubt that whoever came up with that aying actually tried being stuck in such a life or death situation themselves. Your brain can tell you that all you like. But I guarantee that your body will tell the brain to go fuck itself. Besides. If I was just going to relax. That would mean I'd need to wait for someone to come and help. And as was mentioned previously. The grave keeper was either one lazy bastard. Or just didn't like his job all that much. Sadistic fuck if it was the former.
Kinda lost my sense of self after that. Water pooled over the eyes. Was left staring up into a mirror of nothing but a rippling blackness. Felt the mud pull around my ears. Felt the stuff pooling in the cavity. Not a very nice feeling I can tell you. But what came next was, surprising. But also. Equally unpleasant.
It was a sunny day the next thing I knew. Tutting sounds. People? Coughed. Water in the lungs. Brought me back up with a jerk. That much I can tell you. Coffin was being hauled out of the mud after last nights rain. Felt myself fall forwards. Tried to move a bit more. But body was numb. Felt the grass. Soft and wet at my face. Nice as it was, it was slowly becoming that much more of an annoyance as my eye spotted the god damned grave keeper. His back to me. Fixing the coffin. People didn't look at me. Didn't even offer a hand. Then again, the way they were dressd foretold riches. Just what you got to expect from this kind o people. Just what I'd expected for the poor fucker stuck in the coffin. Go knows what they looked like at the moment. Then. A shrill sense of fear dropped through me. The sound of a bell. My logic told me that. This had to be the church bell for the funeral. But. I kept thinking back to that day in the school. The grinning bastard and the class mates with their silly voice show. And acid drinking parlour tricks. And just like the devil. When spoken of he shall appear.
The grave keeper turned from the grave and looked at me dead in the eye. The grinning bastard. The teacher. Face set in an inhuman smile. Shovel in his hands. Strong hands grasping my clothes. Lifting me up like some rag doll. Moving was impossible for me. Just staring at his blank orbs. In their reflection. I saw m face. Stained with mud. Maggot eaten. I would scream. But....nothing. He winked. The same dark promise. And then. Tossed me back into the grave. A woman approached the grave. I recognised her face from somewhere. She budded at her eyes with a hanker chief. Was she crying for me? A stark contrast to the grinning bastard. Like the masks of drama. Comedy and Tragedy. She tossed that hanker chief into the grave. It rested upon my face. That scent that smell. So strong. Awakens a memory. But only for a second.
The man in the alley. A stir. A rat looks over. Taking a break from its wasting meal to watch for more sound. For more movement. But there is none. But now, resting on the mans face.
A grin.
- Word Count: 1919
- Total Word Count: 1919
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| | | | Ethereal
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| | Subject: Re: Ghost in the Alley. The Meaning of Dreams. Sun Oct 10, 2010 9:04 am | |
| Of course not all dreams carry that vague sense of the macabre. No, in fact most dreams and nightmares are simple. And perhaps...in truth thats what makes them more terrifying. That sense of reality where one cannot bridge the gap between fiction and non fiction. The fear that. Despite this being a dream. It could well easily happen to you. Some would perhaps argue that the basis of the..buried alive dream mentioned before has its basis in reality. But then again. Despite it being possible that it could happen. Slipping into an open grave during a storm. One cannot help but think that the chances of it happening are very unlikely. One would even go as far as to say that, if you were around an open grave during a storm and fell in. You deserve to get just whatever happens. But no. The dreams I ean of are those that you cannot at first distinguish from reality. A man who dreams of happiness, of a family. Will nightmare of losing it. One nightmare, is of thives i the night. Stealing into the home. Claiming his property for theirs. The man attempting to stop them. Over powered. Forced to watch as they murder his family.
Yes, such a dream is frightening in itself. But, it doesn't quite hol that true essense of fear that we look for in dreams of reality. In my opinion. A dream that would be far more disruptive to this kind of man would be a dream of loss. But not a loss in force. A loss, in betrayal. Not helplessness in being overpowered. Helplessness in knowing that there is nothing that can be done about what he sees.
A nightmare of adultery. The spouse of the man, writhing in the grasping arms of another man. Her bags packed. Children in the car. The man at the door watching as they rive away. Divorce papers in hand. This is the kind of dream that will continue to haunt even when the man is awake. He wil turn in bed t face his woman only to have disgust printed upon his features. Still in the inbetween. Feelings caried from the dream are still prevalent. Fear is still there, but now there is paranoia. Could she? Would she? Questions that continue to boggle and baffle the mind till the man can find the courage to once again sleep. Helplessness. Is an aspect of fear. One of the truest aspects. An inability to act hurts however far more. Knowing that it is pure. Not simply brought on by a sense of fear and cowardise. Its this helplessness that will force this man to drive to work each day, still haunted by these thoughts of loss.
Those who gain. Fear of losing.
A fundamental truth. Whether it be happiness. A family. Money. Or power. Those with it. Always fear of losing it. In reality this is seen most of all by those who have success. Who have money. Stock marketeers. Living the large life. The moment the stakes go down however. The stairs they are climbing no longer become the stairs of success. They jump and drop faster than their stock prices. Becoming a smear on the road. Delays delays and more delays.
Themselves becoming a nightmare of the local driver.
So to speak.
Twitch again. The rat watches again. This time. Yellow eyes at the base of the figure open. A cat lets out a wide yawn and stretches. Itself awakening from a dream unknown. One feeling resounding however within it. A feeling that it cannot ignore.
...Hunger...
Sun now breaking on the horizon, don't much like the sand. But for whatever reason. I was there anyway. Towel is at my back. fingers though can feel it. That dusty substance beneath them. Its a ad damp though. Chances are the tide goes up this far at one point. I know that, I was waiting for someone. Who? I can't remember. Why? Theres something there. But still fuzzy. My hand, almost by itself reaches to the jacket pocket. Reaching in, pulling out. Hankerchief. That smell again. Wind begins to blow. Hankerchief is caught in it. Whipping in my grasp. As if it wanted to fly off into the sea breeze. Wanted to fly into the water. As if it wanted to be free. Kept my grip on it though. Pulled it down to my face. The cloth. Silken. Soft. It reminded me of something. Something that stirred inside. A bell rang out in the distance. Shock. I looked for the source of the noise.But in that distraction. My grip on the hankerchief failed. And off into the wind it flew. Legs shot up. It was strange. Reaching into the air for this hankerchief. As if it was something precious. Watching my own actions. Yet I felt as if I had no control.
Ran towards the beach. Sun was hot even in the dusk light. Sand was slowing me down. Tripped on a rock. Fell face first into the ocean spray. Fingers gripped into the sand. Pushed back up. And dived. Hand outstretched for the hankerchief. For a face on the horizon.
Wind whipped through the alley way. Cat looked up at the figure. Something blowing through the alley. Soaked in rain water. Time seemed to almost slow as it came closer to the dark figure and the cat. The figure reached up. Hand outstretched. And grabbed it.
Staring at the hankerchief in his hands for a few moments. Yellow eyes shared.
...Hunger....shared.
- Word Count: 942
- Total Word Count: 2861
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| | | | Ethereal
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| | Subject: Re: Ghost in the Alley. The Meaning of Dreams. Mon Oct 11, 2010 9:59 am | |
| So what is this vague sense of mystery beyond reason. Why do we wait. We wern't ones for doing that kind of thing, or where we? Really the question was something that would never truely be answered. Not yet anyways. What secets did this thing have, this thing that we held onto with such abandon. How strange that we held onto it whilst e waited. Here on the beach once more. Eyes frozen on this thing that sits in my hand. A feeling from it. The fragrence. That stirr of a memory. Looking up at that woman through the white eyes of a dead man. Seeing her pet away those tears and throw this thing down onto my face. I was waiting. So was I waiting for her? Just like before. Before the noise came. We were sitting. Not sure of what t do with ourselvs. Trapped in dreams. Or...were they memories? A sense of relief flooded us as we held onto this bobble. This pathetic item. Naught more than a hankerchief. So why did we feel such an importance wrapped around it? Pulled it into and embrace as we turned in the air. The elation felt over the fact we had it now replacing with a creeping sense of fear about just what was to happen as a result of our wreckless actions.
The cold sting of ocean water. It bubbled up and over our face. Breaking through the nostils....but even then. It was only a mild after thought. The sound of bells ringing out in the distance once more. Just here did those bells ring from? A church?....that sounded...familar.....and yet..even that was gettng swept away by this tide. This tide of maness that flowed through everyting. It touched everything within us, broke our minds, shattered that semblance of a heart. And yet all the way through all we could do was grin. Grin and laugh. Laugh and cry. Nothing more. And like a dream. Memories of the thoughts and feelings....all gone. Drowning like we were in this ocean. A hand outtrtched. Hping for help. Buried alive in the grave yard. Mud surrounding us. Screaming fr help. In the class. The grinning bastard loking on. wanting to scream. Again. Nothing. Dreams all together....did they have a deeper meaning. Were they connected? Even now as we drowned in this ocean. The waves above reflecting an amber sky. We held onto this hanker chief that seemed to hold some semblence of our former life. A scent we couldn't quite remember.
A tale that we couldn't quite recall.
In this perhaps was our own nightmare. Our own sense of self despair and loss. Our own sense of helplessness. A dream that we couldn't awaken from A dream that we were trapped in the middle f. Had we ever truely woken up. Mitens and I? Pennywise and I? Who was to say. There were thoughts there. emories of what fun we had together. The cat. The man. And the stump of a lizard head. But then. There wee also other things. Those memories seemed hazed over. Like themselves little more than a dream. little more than a nightmare we were trapped in. That red apple. A forbideen fruit. A butterfly. And this hanker chief. Grip around it....tightening....almost as if my thoughts actually made an impact on this dream theatre.
Eyes remained open. Staring into the wall opposite. Hand still outstretched. The hankerchief tightly clutched within his grasp. But beyond that there was little other signs of moving. Mittens the cat at his eet seemed to be waiting. Much like her master. However unlike him she hardly seemed caught in this strange trance like sleep. But one thing was fore sure. She did not seem to be herslef. much like her master the cat had not moved fro is vigil. It hd stretched. Cleaned itself. But remined looking at Pennywise in a way that adquested to a strange sense of longing.
Eyes darted between the man and the hankerchief. Something about it that was iportant. Smething about it which may awaken him from this strange sleep.
Floating now, still falling deeper into the water...or are we? Honestly....I stpped trying to keep track of that a long time ago. The bells and the drums...all something connected. Yet all something different. ust what did that mean? Mean t me? Mean to the world? Mean to anyone else?! So many questions...so little time to answer it. Theres a fear now rising up from this figure in my dream. From the me that is in there. A fear that if we hit the bottom we'll never be able to crawl back to the top again. But then. This is the ocean. Isn't it? Couldn't we just swim back to the top? Maybe. But then we might lose the hankerchief. Fucking bobble. Why was it so important to this dream me? Was it really worth losing ourselves completely to this oblivion? Then again, those thoughts rising. As if my watching made any difference to this. Perhaps we wern't so helpless after all. Perhaps there was something that we could do. Something else now. I can hear it even beyond the bells and the drums and the thumping of blood in my head and my mind.Theres something else. A current. A sound, something just beyond the tones of the others...barely visible. But there. A twitch in my dream self, perhaps he hears this as well. Or perhaps th water has just finally drowned him. Perhpas it is merely death throes that he is ging through. Not any sorrow for him. Stupid man. Stupid hankerchief. Then again, not as if we haven't gone through smething like this before. Have we?
Yes, it was there. A mild memory of deatht that had come before. Something to get lost in. Something to forget about. A rest. A sleep. One that as only supposed to last till the daylight. And yet, here we were again. Or...was it here? Did we down? Did we die in a war? Did we die bloodied in the sreets of some nameless city? Memories beyond us. Everything. So far away. So out of reach.
Everything. But the hankerchief. That fucking bobble.
Suddenly. The dream me. His eyes open. And once again. We're waiting there. Waiting on the beach. The bells are ringing and the wind is blowing. He reaches into his pocket and pulls out the hankerchief. He stares at it again. And like before. It falls from his grasp and is caught in the wind. Seems to be repeating itself this dream....have I been here before? No this time its different. The wind dies down, the hankerchief rests in the aand. Ocean seems calmer. This time the waves seem to be pushing towards us. Warding us back. I bend down. Pick up the hankerchief. Look at it for a moment and then...someone else is watching.
- Word Count: 1192
- Total Word Count: 4053
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| | | | KyroShiori
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| | Subject: Re: Ghost in the Alley. The Meaning of Dreams. Mon Oct 11, 2010 9:52 pm | |
| I smell the ocean. Where am I? I can't see yet. My eyes do not wish to open. But I hear it now to. Am I blind? I don't know. My toes dig into the soft sand. I'm bare foot. Why? So many questions and I can't seem to answer them. My mind does not wish to work as I will it to. Its moving slower than I wish. I want to open my eyes. Can I now? Who am I asking these questions to? Myself? Am I going insane again? Talking to myself isn't healthy. I don't want the drums to return. I'm doing okay now. At least that's what I have come to believe. Tucked away safely she sleeps. Curls up within expensive sheets. But though she is safe, her sleep is not so peaceful. A frown marrs her lips and her brow is furrowed as if confused or worried. She cannot wake yet. No. Something must be seen. Something... Someone must be remembered. Must be returned. A movement. She curls further under the sheets, hand fisting beside her face in the linens...My eyes suddenly blink open and I am blinded by light. My hands lift to shield my sensitive eyes and I slowly blink to allow them to adjust. I look down at my feet to try and focus my blurry vision. It takes a moment and I wipe lingering wetness from my eyes to aide myself in seeing. The picture focus almost sharply. Too defined. I can see my half buried toes. I can see each gain of sand. They are like bit of glass, catching and relecting light. Diamonds. Yes. A beach of glittering sand that make it look like thousands of diamonds. I lift my gaze slowly, not wanting to get blinded again. I don't like it. The ocean is heard. A calm lapping at the shore. My hands fall to my sides and I look down at myself again. A pretty dress make of soft bluish white linens cover me. It reminds me of a halloween costume I once did of a water fairy. It makes me smile. Its very pretty and a the soft wind makes it flutter softly around me. So pretty. But I have to remember myself. Why am I dressed like some fairy princesss? Where am I? Why am I here? Questions return and make me lift my gaze from the dress. Am I alone? I don't like that question. I hug myself and look around. A small blackness a bit ahead. Is it someone? I don't like being alone here. But can I move? I try. My feet are a bit unwilling but they seem to let me walk. Walking turns to running. I don't want to be alone in this place. I'm scared. Why am I scared? I must do something. But what? So many questions. They circle and bite at me almost angrily. Within the bed she tosses and turns now, mewing in her sleep, legs kicking at random moments as if they are running along with the dream. Sweat dots her brow and her face is still frowning. That frown will not vanish. I run and run. The figure looks so far away and I want to just stop and sob for them to come closer. But I keep running. Why can't I get closer? My feet catch on something and I fall to the sand. Diamonds fly into the air, but the fall doesn't hurt. I want to cry. But I can't. I have to get to the figure. It needs me. Right? That's why I want to go towards it. Right? Questions again. I sit up and I look in surprise. The figure is now right in front od me. I look at the figures back as I get to my feet, not a grain of sand clinging to me. The wind died down when I fell. But its gentle once more. Who is this person? Why must I see them? The person is picking something up and I tilt my head curiously. What do they have? I take a step closer and reach out toward the figure. I want what they have. Why? Questions. So many of them. Please stop asking. -710 Picture of Dream Shiori | |
| | | | Ethereal
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| | Subject: Re: Ghost in the Alley. The Meaning of Dreams. Tue Oct 12, 2010 5:43 am | |
| Yes there was someone else watching this spectical, not just me. And yet there was again, the sense of familarity about this person who was watching. She wasn't quite here yet. Yet she was on the beac. That much I could tell. Yet this other me. Could not quite sense them. Maybe it was all part of that dream. Or was it really a dream? Confusion was previlent in the mind of both myself. And the dream me. It was like watching your life through a shattered mior a reflectin of yourself printed upon another. There are points where you recognise certain aspects but over all theres still something foriegn about the whole experience. And thats when this person came closer. Was it my dream? OOr hers, there seemed something all too real about it after all. Something real and yet something fake. Couldn't be real. Could it? No. After all we're watching. Can't put in much contorl over what happens. We're just there. A transluesant guest within the mind of this body. This dream. his...memory?
Teres someone running now. The dream appears to recognise this. He turns, shes there, a sad almost desprate look printed on her face. A look that screamed of being alone. A look that this one in th dream seemed to recognise all too much. He looked at her now in a confused manner. Didn't seem to know much. But there again, that feeling the memory that almost rose to the sruface before bubbling back down once again into the depths of this proverbial ocean. A moment of silence between them now. Looking at one another. The girl dressed in a dress, that seemed to rather suit the occasion. Was it a dress made for this place then? Doubtful. After all there was still that odd sense of concious thought behind this other person. She wasn't like the grinning bastard.Wasn't like the pupils in the class room.
She was something real.
There, a sad tug now on the side of the mans face. Trying to think now was he. Well we could offer no assistance. After all as much a part of him as we were. Thinking was all that we'd done since the start f this bloody dream and internal monolgue. He looked back up at her. Yellow eyes staring with an almost cloudy look that foretold of a memory forgotten. He knew her from somewhere. Or rather. We knew her from somewhere. Eyes were drawn to the hankerchief. The bells rang out from a church in the distance once more. We rememebered then I think. All three of us. The dream. Myself. And Mittens. That we had been waiting on someone. Our fingers lodged into the sand. Towel at our back. Someone important. Someone who we couldn't remember.
Someone who cried for us.
The dream looked up at the woman. A half hearted false smile on his face. As if to bare forward his wounds. To ask the question that had been haunting us since the start of this damned dream. He lifted the hankerchief. And I awaited his words. We had to know, did he remember who we were waiting for? "...Are you?.....". He stopped for a second. Hesitating. Trying to remember. " My wife?....". Then...something strange began to happen. The bells tolled louder. No longer the bells of a wedding. but those of a funeral. Strm clouds moved in quickly. The ground beneath his feet shook asunder. The dream was swallowed up by the earth and sand. Falling into a proverbial grave. The sand formed around him. Sucking him in. Pulling him down....The hanker chief floated on the wind. To fall at the feet of the woman.....
Now ...Mittens looked up at her master as he drew that hankerchief in. The alleyway was cold and quiet. Sirens in the distance....needed somewhere warm. Something hot to eat.....but she would not leav her vigil...not until he was finished waiting...
- Word Count:676
- Total Word Count:4729
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| | | | KyroShiori
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| | Subject: Re: Ghost in the Alley. The Meaning of Dreams. Tue Oct 12, 2010 10:52 pm | |
| The person is standing there. Who are they? Quiet. Please Quiet. I'm tired of the constant words circling in my head. A shift and the person turns. A man. Do I know him? Questions return. I'm lost. I don't want to be alone here. But I know this man. I know I do. Something so familiar here. But I cannot remember what. We look at one another as the ocean just continues to lap softly at the shore.
Quiet. So quiet here. I want to speak and cannot. Or can it be that I just don't wish to speak and break the tangible silence between us? A soft beat of a heart. Could it be mine? But the beat stirs a memory. Maddness and drums. I don't hear them anymore. They let me go. The beat fades. Yes. I remember I escaped the drums. But now there are bells.
Smile. Smile. He is so sad. Why? Questions. So many. I can't answer them all. He has the thing in his hand and then he makes more questions. I frown. Wife? No. Never married. Right? But his question make the silence shatter and I step away. He is swallowed by the earth and the cloth he held is at my feet. He is gone. Alone again. I don't want to be. So tired of being alone. My knee touch the sand and my hands scoop up the cloth.
The beach vanishes in a sickening jerk of colors. I blink. An alley. I'm not me. I see through another's eyes for the world is black and white. A tilt of the head and a seated figure is seen. Memories rush back. The man remembered. The dream is ended, but the image of the broken man remains.
Sweat drenched sheets tangled around me as I sit up and scream. "Penny!" His name tears from my lips before I can stop it. I sit in my bed panting, trying to breath, my heart hammering in my chest. I bury my face in my hands. What in the hell had that been? It had felt so real. My mother once told me she had the ability to dream hop when someone needed her. It was random, but helpful. I had seen him. Alone and looking like he wanted to die.
I pull myself from my bed, stripping off my sweat soaked bed clothes. I look at the time. Four a.m. Kyouya will kill me. But I need to know. Penny had never been hated by me. Sure he had been a bit of trouble, but I had never seen any true evil from him. I pull on some clothes, cell phone in had as I call Kyouya to get up and meet me with the car. I had to find him. That image of him so still and silent bothers me.
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| | | | Ethereal
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| | Subject: Re: Ghost in the Alley. The Meaning of Dreams. Wed Oct 13, 2010 3:30 am | |
| Mittens is looking up at him rather oddly. Someone behind her eyes and she knows it. Its a strange feeling and she doesn't quite know what to do about it. Yet it didn't feel too dangerous. So for the mot part she just tried to ignore it. Despite Mittens being a relatively normal sight around Pennywise. No one quite knew just what the true nature of this cat. Who seemed to be a spirit truely was. Well. All but Pennywise himself. Although for the most part lately he seemed to be a man of two ( or more) minds. In truth mittens was just another facit of Pennywise's own form. But...seperate. It was a complicated process. But in Beast form Mittens would come together with Pennywise. And the two would effectively be one. In that meaning. Mittens supposed that she took on the role of Pennywise's familar. Despite her role in his life being far more complicated than that.
She scratched the back of her neck with her right paw rather absentmindedly. Just looking up at her Master. The sounds of drums had stopped for him, and like before. He had just come to a hault. As if there was nothing fuelling him anymore. A complete lack of purpose. They'd both stopped for awhile. Now and again she would wake up. She'd eat, whatever came to close to her. Then she'd slip back into the dream. However. This time it was different. Her master had moved like her. But it was almost as if he was still asleep. Merely moving through the death throes. But then. Such a thing was impossible. Wasn't it? He had. They had. Already died once.
This time. Mittens didn't quite feel like slipping under the master. She felt like staying awake. Just as they had when the drums were sounding. But no matter her mewing. No matter how she rubbed against him. He would not move. Just sat in the alley way. His eyes now open. Yellow like hers. Staring into space. Not even affording her a glance. He was little more than a corpse. Caught in this strange comatose state. Despite being part of him, and moving within his dreams. Mittens was not quite aware of all her masters thoughts wills and goals. Although considering his strange behaviour, the madness of being an Oni. The latter seemed hardly neccisary. But...now she wasn't so sure. The master was waiting. That much was obvious from the dream. But what was he waiting for? His wife? That was a ridiculous notion. And he himself would laugh at the thought if he'd just been awake.
Likely it was little more than a fragment. A memory of his human self. Back before they were cast into the pits to change. Before who he had been. Became who he was.
Thinking however. Mittens began to lick herself. She'd become slightly dirty since the last awakening. Had to keep up the cleanliness of her coat. But in that cleaning she began to ponder about the woman in the dress on the beach. She had looked awfully familar. Strange scents returned to her. For. In a way this was how creatures as she was. Retained her own memory. Coffee? Yes, that was part of it. A warm lap. Coffee in her hand. But there was something else to her scent. A loneliness that she saught to cover up and indulge in. Mittens, if it were possible. Rolled her eyes. Remembering just who the woman was. She had been nice. And the master seemed to have liked her. If only as a bit of a plaything. Like Mittens liked mice. But then again. He hadn't quite gotten his claws out with her. And of course...just what was she doing in that dream? Mittens let out another soft mew like yawn. Once again staring up at her master.
So much to think about for just one cat.
- Word Count: 671
- Total Word Count:5400
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| | | | KyroShiori
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| | Subject: Re: Ghost in the Alley. The Meaning of Dreams. Wed Oct 13, 2010 9:28 am | |
| "You want to what?" comes the cool, biting voice of my assistant. I sigh softly as I tug my boots on, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt I got from Sousuke's little brother for Eternal Eclipse, Sou's band. I grab my jacket and slip it on while holding the cell to my ear. I can hear Kyouya getting dressed.
"Kyou. Please. I just need to do this. Its the weekend tomorrow so we are both off. I know I'm being selfish. But I can't shake this," I say to him as I scoop up my house keys and shove them in my pocket. I then head back to my bathroom and grab towels then grab a quilt. Why? I don't know. But the sharp image I saw... Penny looked dead. Which seems impossible since he is an oni and therefore died a mortal death already.
"Fine. Meet me in the garage." And the line goes dead as he hangs up on me. I smile a bit. Kyouya tolerates me just like his uncle tolerates my grandmother. This is the connection the Ootori and the Kyro have. Its ingrained in us. Our families act as one unit with two names. Though the Kyro have always been the leaders. However there is a hidden thing withing. While we are the figure heads, the one chosen to serve the head of the family is also like a business partner. We don't mention it. Because we don't want it known that there is someone beside us that can step in and continue things as they were if something should happen.
With towels and a quilt in my arms I make it out of my penthouse, stumbling a bit and I have to pull the door shut with my foot. Thank Kami not many people live in this building. This whole floor belongs to me. I frown as I go to the elevator and carefully balance things to hit the button for the garage. If I find Penny. I can't bring him back here. I chew on my lower lip. The spiritnet would kill him. I think for a moment. I could go and open up the penthouse grandmother offered me in East City. Not as close to work. But it will for a short time. I know its still close for me to drive into Metro, but in turn Pennywise would be safe. I don't even know if I'm going to find him. My heart sinks. He and I had separated when I went to the past to train myself to get a better handle on my power. And that dream disturbed me greatly.
The elevator opens and I step out and Kyouya is standing there. He looked ruffled. His hair has only been brushed out and not styled. Also.. My eyes widen at the jeans and button up polo. I whistle lowly. "Not bad Kyouya. You really should try this look more," I say to him and he rolled his eyes, taking the towels from me as we walk to the car. Its a nice car. A sleek ebony mustang that even I have to admit is sexy. Kyouya fishes my keys right out of my pocket and hits the button to unlock the car and shut off the alarm. I open my door, the door pulling outwards, a request of mine. I dislike cars that have doors that go up. Annoys me. I throw the quilt in the back seat and shut my door, Kyouya doing the same, but getting in the driver's seat. It wouldn't be proper for him to be in the passenger seat with me. A Kyro doesn't drive unless without their assistant.
He starts the car and I put on my seatbelt then turn on my radio, Sou-kun's new cd within it. I relax as I listen to his voice. I really have to go visit him. Kyouya pulls out of the garage then pauses to look at me. "Where are we going?" he asks and I peer into his eyes, remembering the alleyway. I only know one place that would be that rotting and desolate.
"The Lower Commons."
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| | | | Ethereal
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| | Subject: Re: Ghost in the Alley. The Meaning of Dreams. Wed Oct 13, 2010 10:02 am | |
| ...A few weeks Earlier...
All of these minor tales have some events that lead up to it. Fr Pennywise this case happened a few weeks ago on a pale moon filled night. Moon filled simply because the size f the moon was oddly large in comparison to the regular moon. This memory in particular was easy to point out for both Pennywise and Mittens. Mittens because she thought that rat hunting would be easy with such a moon illuminating th streets. And Pennywise. Well. Much the same. Although. Replace rats with...well whatever caught his fancy. They'd been seperated from Shiori or awhile. Not that it really much mattered. Despite having a strange connection with the girl Pennywise in reality had only met up with her twice. Even if the second time did involve the twitching of tong- a rat running into an alleyway. Mittens running off after it.
Pennywise gave chase as always. After all what kind of cruel hearted master wouldn't run after his little kitty when it was going ater a big mean rat? Then again. Mittens despite her size was one hell of a wicked rat killer. After all. She was part of Pennywise. And so shared his spiritual nature. Rats were absolutely no match for her. And sure enough before Penny had even passed the first garbage can into the alleyway. there she was, proudly padding towards him. Dragging the rat by the tail held in her mouth. " My what a big one that is....whos a good kitty...yes you are!". He bent down to scratch the fur behind her ears when something odd happened.
The sounds of the drums. The eternal noise that had been driving him since his awakening in the city of sin. They had...stopped.
He waited. Listened. A sudden strike of fear hoping. Wanting them to stat again. Hoping that it was some kind of mistake. Over and over the words began to repeat themselves in his head. Missed your chance. Missed your chance. Missed your chance! Eyes went cloudy. Vision began to blur as his limbs stiffened. Mittens looked up. Confusion across her cute little kitten features. Her master, moved like a zombie deeper into the alleyway. Got about half way before his back hit the wall...and he slid on down there till his ass hit the concrete....hat blew away in the wind. But he made no effort to catch it. Nor even look at it. Mittens abandoned her catch of the rat and ran over to her master. Thinking that he must be tired.
Little did she know. She was closer to the truth than she thought.
Curled up between his legs. She began to sleep with him...
....End flashback sequence...
Word Count: 476
Total Word Count:5876
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| | | | KyroShiori
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| | Subject: Re: Ghost in the Alley. The Meaning of Dreams. Wed Oct 13, 2010 10:36 am | |
| Kyouya frowns with those words but begins driving the desolate streets for the Lower Commons. He doesn't like it there. But he knows I use to actively hunt within the decaying part of SaiCity. Its a place where I learned so much, yet in turn lost things as well. Like Jyn. My hunting. My disappearing for adventure and for sanity. I lost him because of that place. Because of the woman I was. I've changed. Almost as if I am a butterfly who is finally out in the world and drying its wings so it can take flight.
I sigh as we drive, relaxing in the comfortable leather seat, my eyes looking out the window. I only met Pennywise a couple of times. But he had made an impression. He had left a mark unlike others. Its confusing. I don't understand. I honestly can't believe I'm going out like this because of a dream. But.. My mother taught me before she passed away that when a dream compells you so vividly, you have to seek out the meaning of it or you will regret it. Idly I wonder if she taught my twin the same thing. I'll have to ask Shioriko when I go visit her. Though now it looks like I might not be seeing her this weekend. If we find Pennywise.. God he looked in bad shape. And he was so still. I shiver. The dream had been so odd. A question returns. 'Are you my wife?' I frown. That's an odd thing. But then some parts of dreams are not meant to make any sense at all.
It takes us about an hour to make it to the Lower Commons from the penthouse in Metro. Kyouya parks and I get out, as does he. He stands beside the car and I look at him and realize he has his gun with him. "Stay with the car. I'll be okay searching," I say to him and he frowns, yet sighs and nods, knowing I can handle things and that my car needs to be protected. I tug my coat better around myself, the night quite chilly. I walk away, hands tucked into my jacket pockets. I turn down and alley away from Kyouya and start my search. But.. The lower commons is so huge. How am I going to find him in all of this rot?
I shake the negative thoughts away and press on, the streets empty on this cold night. THe bums are sheltering themselves to make sure they do not freeze. Even the demons aren't as tempted to brave this chill. I should have brought a scarf. But too late for that thought. Metro is a bit warmer since the buildings block alot of the wind. But here... A sharp wind cuts the chill right into me and I whimper. I've never been good in the cold.
I feel numb as I walk for some time, looking down every alley for a sign of the oni known as Pennywise. Finally I stop and look around me. "Penny!" I finally call out. Maybe he's fine and will come out of somewhere, laughing at me for being a stupid woman. I continue walking and every so often I call out his name.
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| | | | Ethereal
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| | Subject: Re: Ghost in the Alley. The Meaning of Dreams. Wed Oct 13, 2010 10:58 am | |
| Still nothing. Just the cold. Looked like her master wouldn't be returning to her after all. Not this night anyways. She wished however that he'd at least picked a better place to do this. Like Arden. That place was never cold. Always warm. Too warm she had thought at one stage. Same with Penny though. He didn't like the heat. Not that much of it anyways. Always missed the rain. Loved the rain. So did she, at least she had for awhile. But now it had been so many nights with just the cold wind and down pours. Mitten would take the heat of hell over this any day. At least for awhile it would be a change from the shivering cold. Should have ate that rat. Thought came back to her, thinking back to those weeks when the cat had caught that little bastard in the alley. It was more of a prize. But now with a stomach well past empty ( even if she was a spirit) she couldn't help but feel somewhat unsatisfied.
Then there was something. Barely audiable to the ears of a human. But to the enhanced ears of a cat. It was as if it was very close. Someone was shouting after her master. Someone was looking for him. How odd. Nobody looked for him, or them. They after all didn't really have many friends bar one another. So, curious. And perhaps with a sense of hope that this person whoever they were could help her master. She took one last look at Pennywise. And then moved away, stalking to the mouth of the alley. The person was close by. She could get there. But she was cautious. As curious as the kitten was. Mittens wasn't as foolish as her form indicated.
She took a scent in, and picked up something. The smell of coffee and....You think you can hide your corruption? Carpets arn't the only things that its hard to wash out of...The resounding voice of her master through her mind as that scent came into play. No mistaking it. It was the nice lady with the coffee and rack. Mittens made her way towards the scent and sound with some haste, but keeping caution about her. After all, tough or no. She was still but a tiny thing. It wouldn't be long before Shiori came into view. Mittens sat by a trash can slightly out of her view determining just what she should do. Judging by her size. She'd best be quick about getting this womans attention. Otherwise she might grab her and well...she wouldn't be able to worm her way out of her grasp to lead the woman back to the master.
First thing Shiori would see would be those yellow eyes. The ones Mittens shared with the master. She quickly came over to Shiori. Letting out a purring sound. And rubbing against her right leg. Then. Moving through the middle and rubbing against the left. Before darting back a few feet from the direction she came. She let out a soft meow. Before running back from where she came. Not so quickly that the human couldn't follow. But quick enough that she wouldn't catch her without effort. Finally made a turn into the alleyway. And moved back between the masters legs. Cloudy eyed and staring into the wall. Just as he had been before. Word Count:578
Total Word Count:6454
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| | | | KyroShiori
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| | Subject: Re: Ghost in the Alley. The Meaning of Dreams. Wed Oct 13, 2010 11:50 am | |
| Fucking hell its cold. I huddle in my jacket and shiver. Least its not raining tonight. Kami that would suck. I'm cold. I want hot cocoa and a good book right now. I sigh, breath a white fog from my lips. At least I can get some from the twenty four hour market on the way home. Maybe I'll invite Kyouya for some. I hate being so alone in my penthouse. I realize then.. I've never really lived alone. I've always lived with someone. The dream flickers in my mind. I was scared in it. Because I thought I was alone. I stop on the sidewalk, looking down at my feet. Am I really that pathetic? But.. I've never liked being alone. Even as a kid I clung to the butterfly fairy doll my mother made for me just before she died. It was my only friend. I couldn't go anyway without it. But I was always forced to leave her behind when I had to go to high class parties. I push the thoughts away. I need to grow up. Because with the way things look. I'll always be alone.
I nearly jump as I suddenly find myself looking into a pair of bright yellow eyes. I blink. I know those eyes. "Mittens.." I whisper, shocked to see the kitten belonging to the oni I've been searching for on this cold morning. She rubs against me and the moves away. She mews at me then takes off. "Wait.. Mittens!" I call out and take off after the shadow kitten. My boots clomp along the sidewalk as I run after the kitten. "Dammit.. Mittens.." I pant for breath. It hurts to breath so sharply in this cold weather. But I push myself to keep up with her. Finally she darts down an alley and I slow down, hunching over and placing my hands on my knees as I suck in greedy gulps of air. It doesn't help with how cold the air is. Makes it worse. But I try to calm my heart to ease laboring lungs. It takes a moment, but I calm and straighten. I step into the alley, nose scrunching at the vile smells around me, the cold air seeming to freeze it in place.
I step over garbage and other things I don't wish to name. I see Mittens and then my breath catches. "Penny.." I breath out his name and hurry over to him. I kneel close to him, not caring if I ruin my jeans. I reach out to touch his face. "Penny?" I say softly, my voice shaking. Can demons die in the same manner as humans? Every time I kill one they tend to turn to ash after a bit. He's cold. "Penny... Can you hear me?"
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| | | | Ethereal
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| | Subject: Re: Ghost in the Alley. The Meaning of Dreams. Wed Oct 13, 2010 1:35 pm | |
| Eyes had been closed for awhile now. Hadn't much cared to open them. Dream was more interesting. It held more secrets. More answers for a man who really needed them. To him it had been the drums that had given him guidance and purpose. WHere they were strongest he followed. Delivering the message of the drums. And then. To have that all taken away from him. He was reverted back to what he had been in Arden. Just another sad pathetic sight. Little more than a statue. Despite what mittens thought. He did have times when the dream ended. And another began. Those few times when he was awake, but never really bothered moving. Just tried to go back into the dream. As terrifying, or pointless as it was. After all. Why bother moving? What was the god damned purpose to it all? What was he going to do? What was there for him to do? At least with the sound of drums. He had something to follow. Now all that remained was his own mind. Full of questions. Full of memories that the drums had once drowned out. His mind hurt. Forced them all into dreams. Into things he could explore. Into a place he could escape from the pointlessness of everything.
Mittens seemed to have run off for awhile. He didn't know why. Which was odd. Usually the little cat told him just where she was going. Not that she had moved lately, just like him. Or had she? Maybe she did while he slept. Who could know? Who really cared? It didn't take long for little Miss Mittens to return. She snuggled up once more under his legs. But he didn't move. Kept taring ahead. Another came into the alleyway. He didn't much care. Trying to force himself back into the dreams. Maybe there was more to unlock. To learn. To discover. Something to escape. Then there was the sound of rot and garbage being moved aside as someone came closer. Almost there now. Almost back on the beach....or would it be somewhere else this time?
However. A scent brought him back to reality. Something that triggered a memory. He focused himself as he felt a hand on his cheek. He flinched slightly, just as he had done the first time she had touched his cheek in such a manner. No one ever touches us. Mittens let out a soft purr as Shiori spoke his name and asked her question. He let out the briefest of smirks. His eyes for once. Looking back up at her. For a moment when he stared into her eyes. He thought he'd hear the drum beat again. Thought maybe...he'd have a purpose once more! But no. As he stared into those orbs. There was no sound. No drum. Just the silence. A deafening silence. "...Yes......yes yes......no noise...to drown you out....everything has been so....quiet....". Eyes drifting into a cloudy nature again. He brought his right hand up to his face and looked at the hankerchief within tha he had caught in the rain. Little black butterfly patterns adorned it. Reminded him of the butterflies in hell. In that forest of self death.
He took a sniff of the air. Once again, his eyes lit up, the cloud faded from them. "...Ah.....so then you did manage to clean your carpet after all....". He let out a light snicker before falling quiet again. Of course, he didn't mean her carpet in the literal sense.
" No drums now...no purpose.....just the silence....and the dreams.....So what brings you....here then?".
- Word Count:601
- Total Word Count:7055
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| | | | KyroShiori
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| | Subject: Re: Ghost in the Alley. The Meaning of Dreams. Wed Oct 13, 2010 4:32 pm | |
| He flinches as I touch him. I nearly sigh in relief. His lips twitch into a faint smirk and his eyes turn to me. I feel a twisting in my gut. He looks.. Empty. What happened to the giggling man I met? I remember the times we met. He was witty, funny even. He was smarter than he would let on, but I had seen glimpses of that intelligence. But its snuffed out now. I frown when he speaks and look around us. I don't understand. Why would silence matter? He moves and I look at him again, noticing the hankerchief. I arch a brow at the filthy piece of cloth. Why was he holding it.
My eyes widen as he makes a comment that sounds more like the Penny I know. I smile slightly. "I told you before. Hardwood floors are much easier to clean," I comment without being able to stop myself. He goes quiet again and I peer at him. Whispered words spill from his lips then a question. I sigh softly and touch his cheek again. He's freezing. Can oni catch colds? Honestly I don't know how their biological make up works. But I'm still concerned. He spoke of no purpose. And now I know the drums stopped for him as well. That's a good thing, ne?
"I was looking for you," I say to him. "I had.. Well I had this weird dream and saw you in an alley.." I pause and sigh. "Honestly, Penny. I don't know why I'm here. But something told me to find you. Now come on. I'll take you somewhere safe and get you warmed up. Also we'll get some food on the way that I can cook you. Want some tea also?" I ask him, my voice gentle as if I were speaking to a lost child.
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| | | | Ethereal
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| | Subject: Re: Ghost in the Alley. The Meaning of Dreams. Wed Oct 13, 2010 4:59 pm | |
| He placed a finger in his mouth. " Hmm...yes...makes sense...tends to wipe right off hard wood...". Or did it? That was a more complicated matter than he thought. Really depended on the grain of the wood, the age. Was it polished and just how often did she clean it? Hm. Yes but more often than not it did wipe right off. With those little thoughts in mind he barely noticed when she touched his cheek again. Her hand was warm. Far warmer than he had expected. Leting out a little gasp from him as he began to realise just how cold he was. At his feet Mittens gave a little meow of approval. She had already sensed at this point. Through that animal magic of hers. Or through simple womans intuition. That Pennywise just needed this jolt, this sense of curiouity to jump him back into reality. Of course that wasn't to say he wasn't going to sink back in. But the little cat was glad to hear that the woman was willing to take him somewhere warm and at least look after him for awhile. Although...she was rather suspicious of her motivations in this matter.
And when she mentioned looking for him. And the dream. Pennywise raised his own eyebrow. The cloud that filled his eyes with emptiness faded again for the moment. That glimmer o an inner intellegence sparkling as he thought. " Interesting. So you've been dreaming about me then? Glad to know that my manly charm doesn't go to waste". It was, at least for someone used to seeing it. Obvious that behind that comment Pennywise was actually analysing the whole situation concerning her and the dream. Yes. Now he recognised her. It had been her in that dress. The one who the dream version of himself had asked if. Oh dear wasn't this an akward place to be. Luckily she mentioned taking him away. Changing the subject entirely. Allowing him to break off from it.
" Hm...food....why bother?...I think I already know what I'd like to eat".
One of those odd quirks about his biology again, one eye moved whilst the other remained perfectly focused on her. The one that went down. Looking at her rack. And to a lesser extent her ass. Eye moved back up. Finger popping out his mouth. " But yet I have an odd feeling thats off the menu today....so....Chicken soup!...". He stood up. Stiff and freezing. Yet he wouldn't complain. Merely wipe the dust and cobwebs off him. " Everyone likes chicken soup...". And then she mentioned Tea. Pennywise bent down and grabbed Mittens. Lifting her up to his chest. " And tea!...my Mittens...this must be our lucky day....". He moved forward to walk, yet his stiff muscles caused him to stumble slightly. But he caught his balance. " Oh dear...it would seem I've developed a rather odd case of stiffness downstairs...and not the enjoyable kind....mind giving me a hand to the car?.....you....brought a car....right?...".
- Word Count: 504
- Total Word Count:7559
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| | | | KyroShiori
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| | Subject: Re: Ghost in the Alley. The Meaning of Dreams. Thu Oct 14, 2010 10:49 pm | |
| He pops a finger into his mouth and I nearly wince. It looks a bit dirty. But then, do germs affect oni? I honestly want to study the oni and the kami. I wanna know how they tick. Its a bit cruel to do so. But if we could understand them better. Knew how they ticked, wouldn't that help us humans? I know a couple of our R&D have been dieing for some 'demons' to study. But we haven't found a way to safely transport them into Metro to our labs. I've been thinking lately that maybe we should have a branch of Nyte Industries located in East City on the cusp of Metro, but where we wouldn't worry about the spiritnet.
I blink back from my thoughts when he speaks about me dreaming about him and I have to roll my eyes and fight the urge to whack him upside the head for being a pervert. I kneel beside him still, shivering a bit as the cold seeps through my jeans. As he is thinking I fish out my cell phone and text Kyouya really quick. He has a gps locator to find me through my phone. I tuck it back in my pocket when Pennywise speaks again and I find myself looking at him and quickly blushing as he catches me off guard with his comment about eating and then looking at me like a meal. Pervert.
But then he stops checking me out and chirps about chicken soup. I sigh and smile, getting to my feet. Kyrojin is giggling and asking if I can just kill the demon. I ignore the spirit of my naginata, use to his quips. My inner thigh heats up where his tattoo is on my body and I force myself to ignore his attempt to get me aroused. Jigoku is cracking up and Reirei is shaking his head and muttering about idiots. I close them out, having learned how in the past.
I sigh, breath a white puff before my face and I wince as Penny gets up and stumbles. I move over to him and gently let him lean on me as a car horn sounds outside the alley. "Yes. My assistant came with me. I had him stay with my car," I say softly move to help him to the car. "A warm bath will help with the joints when we get to my other penthouse. We'll have to grab a few things at a twenty four hour market since I don't live at this location. But.. Since your Oni I can't take you to my penthouse in Metro.." I frown at that. "Stupid spiritnet.." I mutter and Kyouya comes to the mouth of the alley, frowning.
"Shiori-sama. Do you need help?"
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| | | | Ethereal
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| | Subject: Re: Ghost in the Alley. The Meaning of Dreams. Fri Oct 15, 2010 2:52 am | |
| Just mere testing, But indeed he was right before. Like when a shark takes its first bite. Like when the dog growls or the cat hisses. Its a case of testing their prey. In this case Pennywises flirtations and perveted comments were merely like that first nibble. To see just if Shiori had changed. Before. She would have returned his comments in stride. Making lude statements of her own. But now...now there was something else in there. Was it because the drums had gone? He didn't understand how she lived without their guidance, Their constant beat. After all. He had failed dramatically and look where he ended up. But did the end of the drums, the silence. Give way to something else that gave her the meaning. The right to live? If that was indeed the case then he was going to have to make it his own personal goal to find out just what made her tick now. Just how she lived without the drums. What it had changed about her. And why. Regardless of the why. There was obviously still enough of whatever connection there had been between them to lead her into his coma like dream. Or memory. Or indeed. A mix of the two. He never really figured that one out. However he suspected it was more the latter.
It was good to hear that Shiori did indeed bring a car. Now as far away from the world as he had been. The world changing so much from what he could have remembered. He had learned that the big metal beasts used for transport by modern day humans were called cars. And knew a journey was much quicker in them. He passed Mittens into his right hand. And learned his left over Shiori. Balancing at least some of his weight on her. Enough to allow him to walk in an albiet slow pace. He petted his trouser pocket and removed a packet of wet and soggy cigarettes. Cursing his luck he tossed the packet away.
" Damned cigarettes...."
He saw the car pull up in front of them with Shiori mentioning something about an assistant. And then a bath. Yes a bath would indeed be lovely. And Mittens could probably use one as well. As if in tune to that thought she let out a mild, but annoyed meow. He merely gave the smallest of grins to the tiny kitten as they continued to walk towards it. Spirit net. Now that was a new term. Apparantly something that stopped people of his....demenor. Entering the metro area. How disappointing. " Fiddlesticks...and here I was hoping to see that hard wood floor of yours....oh well...perhaps another time....Who knows...one may find a way around such a thing....". Her assistant came into view. A rather stark fellow with an unimpressed look printed on his face. "...Quite alright chap...The Boss Lady has been enough of a hand....I can make it from here...". He moved off Shiori. And despite the pain in his joints. Forced himself to walk towards the car. Open the backdoor and climb into the backseat.
Really he wasn't that interested in the 24 hour market. Food had become somewhat of an afterthought. Right now what he lacked wasn't a full stomach. But a reason beyond the drums. And. If Shiori had found one. Perhaps she could show him how to live in the silence too.
- Word Count: 574
- Total Word Count: 8133
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| | | | KyroShiori
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| | Subject: Re: Ghost in the Alley. The Meaning of Dreams. Fri Oct 15, 2010 4:29 pm | |
| I look at Kyouya and nod. He knows Penny is an Oni and its unnerving him for me to be so close like this. I look at Pennywise as he tosses aside a pack of soggy cigarettes. Nope. Won't think about them. I quit ages ago. But lately I have had the urge to pick them up again. Its the stress in my life. Really surprised I haven't broken down and started sucking down the nicotine sticks. My eye twitches as Penny makes a comment about my 'hardwood floors', Kyouya arching a brow and I know the gears in his head are turning. I see him get the meaning behind the comment when his eyes grow cold. Lovely. Now Kyouya is going to develop a distaste for Pennywise. The Ootori men are sort of... The over protective brother types.
I let Penny walk on his own, feeling a bit bad. Kyouya opens the door for Penny and lets him climb into the back seat of my mustang. I follow and adjust my seat before sitting. I look back at Pennywise and offer him a warm smile. "Use the blanket to keep warm. We'll put on the heater also," I say as Kyouya get in and after a quick buckle of the seat belt he takes off toward East City.
We drive for a bit, the music set to something soothing. We pull up to a market close to the other penthouse. I hop out and walk in to pick up things we will need in the other penthouse since I've never been there. I even grab something Penny might enjoy and a temptation I'll have to resist.
Kyouya sits, hands gripped on the wheel and waits till Shiori is in the market. He peers into the rear view mirror, eyeing the demon that Shiori refered to as Penny. "I won't hesitate to shoot you in the head should you try to harm, Shiori-sama," he finally spoke, his voice chilly and showing he would not hesitate to forefill his threat on the oni. "She is a kind woman. As you can see by her rescuing you like this. Honestly. When have you ever heard of a human saving a demon from rotting in an alley. Which means she thinks your worth saving. Don't betray this faint trust she has placed in you. Shiori-sama is a sensitive woman, though she refuses to show it. It would crush her quite a bit should you go and betray her," he finished speaking, his eyes never leaving Pennywise in the rearview mirror.
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| | | | Ethereal
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| | Subject: Re: Ghost in the Alley. The Meaning of Dreams. Fri Oct 15, 2010 4:57 pm | |
|
He kept his eyes closed for the most part. But he already felt the cold stare of that human on him. It was even more freezing than the cold wind outside. Still as the car got moving and Pennywise pulled the blanket over himself and the cat. There was a mild purring from mittens as the heat within the car, and the blanket began to return the much needed warmth to his flesh. When Shiori got into the front and they moved off. He opened his eyes again. Watching as the cars journey took them through to the east part of the city. The cloudyness in his eyes. reflecting a deep thought and dream like state. The car came to a sudden and abrupt halt. Shiori got out and headed into the place. The twenty four hour market. A concept that Pennywise thought was ingenius, and yet he wondered just how such a thing would work. Could a bunch of stalls stay open for twenty four hours. Would the merchants not get tired? Or perhaps...it was just one of these new things in this modern world that he was to get used to. The humans cold eyes. Now took on a cold tone. And began to speak his threats. Shooting him in the head if he harmed the human girl.
"...Shoot me in the head...interesting...I wonder if it would work...".
Pennywise adjusted himself so that although he wouldn't wake Mittens. He could look at this mirror. And see the eyes of the human. The intellegent glare in his eyes lit up once more. "....Saving a demon from rotting in an alleyway...yes it is a rather odd sentiment wouldn't you agree?...And yes I'm quite aware of her sensativity...even if she does not wish to show it...her body langauge speaks volumes....She lacks flirtation. She rolls her eyes when I make such comments....she is infatuated with someone I think....". He grinned. " And would it now?....then I suppose I shall just not have to betray her....". With that. He wash nearly finished talking with this human.
"....Besides....it does not serve my best interests to betray her....she is...interesting...".
Closing his eyes and letting out a light yawn. Pennywise snuggled in with the purring kitten resting on his chest. He doubted the girl would be long. And that the human was only making these threats because otherwise he would be repremanded in her presense. "...Think of that...what you will human...".
- Word Count: 406
- Total Word Count: 8538
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| | | | Ethereal
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| | Subject: Re: Ghost in the Alley. The Meaning of Dreams. Sat Oct 16, 2010 10:02 am | |
| Mid-Thread Claim:
Exp: +8538
OOC: Just thought since I'm doing my updates I may as well get this out of the way. Total Word Count for Pennywise after this post reverts to 0. | |
| | | | KyroShiori
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| | Subject: Re: Ghost in the Alley. The Meaning of Dreams. Sat Oct 16, 2010 1:00 pm | |
| Kyouya clenches his jaw, nearly grinding his teeth. But he hears the demon out. Pennywise seemed to be no true threat to Shiori as of this moment. Kyouya knew humans who were more of one. One in particular. Asei Jyn. He didn't like the man. Hated how he toyed around with two women instead of choosing one. Shiori had a delicate heart. She had only known a cold household growing up. He was the same in a sense, though his mother was a kind woman. Shiori had never really had that once her mother died. No. Love just was never around her till she met Jyn. She had nearly given up her birthright for him. Kyouya wondered if she would yet again. Finally he sighed, watching Penny settle within the quilt to rest. "Kyouya." he corrected. "My name is Kyouya," he look out the window the offering of his name a tiny olive branch between them. For now Pennywise would be tolerated by the man who was Shiori's assistant.
I smile as I return to the car and load up the trunk. I get back into the car, smiling. "Aww look. You both behaved," I joke and look back at Penny, smiling warmly. I watch him for a moment before turning my gaze to Kyouya. "Let's go then."
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| | | | Ethereal
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| | Subject: Re: Ghost in the Alley. The Meaning of Dreams. Sat Oct 16, 2010 1:24 pm | |
| Pennywise had gotten rather comfortable. At least. As much as was possible within this car. And it seemed that by, extending his name. This man was attempting to at least be civil between himself and Penny. The man actually brought up a good point however. A human name. If Pennywise was going to be hanging around Shiori then he would need to have a name that he could seperate his true Oni self from. " Hm...very well Kyouya it is...I suppose you can call me...". He thought for a moment. A human name to take. " Wiseman...yes...that will do I suppose...if I am to exist in this human world...and hide my true self....I will take that name...". Shiori got back into the car and made her own coment about how they were both behaving.
He was silent for the moment. There were a lot of things traveling through his head. Most of all however was this pulse of silence. One that awakened within him. Ambition? He would need to return to hell...and set things going there. Perhaps...there was something to this silence. Shiori was using it to develop her own carrer...so perhaps he should do the same. Rise in the ranks of demons and become...a lord?
It made sense. At least. For him. And he owned Shiori his life. And...ultimately gratitude.
However..he'd think of that later. Mittens jumped out of his lap and onto Shioris. Fiddling about with her and grabbing a pair of keys. Then jumping back to Pennywise. The car would come to a hault. And before Shiori knew it. Pennywise and Mittens would be standing outside the car. The door hadn't even opened. Shadow Teleportation. So useful at night.Even the bag of shopping in her hands were gone. " I'll show myself in...go get some sleep...". With that. He fade away again into the shadows.....
Word Count: 309 | |
| | | | KyroShiori
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| | Subject: Re: Ghost in the Alley. The Meaning of Dreams. Sat Oct 16, 2010 2:14 pm | |
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