In which there is much purple prose
Sep. 10th, 2012 08:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
katzenstreuAuthor: Katzenstreu Gesicht
Date Written: September 10th, 2012
Fandom: Crossover, Eternal Sonata/One Man Cleanup Crew
Rating: G
Author's Notes: I'm a third of the way done! ;__; <3 Tomorrow's prompt is for DLM, but I think I'll be saving that one for the last day, due to reasons I shall keep secret for now. But oh god, Eternal Sonata OST. So beautiful there are no words.
Most places within the Realm of Lingering are small, composed entirely of a room where those that traversed the place found comfort in denial of their current state. Others were lucky enough in their lot of life to create a whole building, a replica of their childhood home and the like. Each place was familiar by design, in every trick of the light, in every object carefully laid about, and in every scent that hung in the air. But never before could Death recall a case where a person created a whole world within, large, complex, new and with just the barest resemblance to the one whom created it.
There were strange creatures at every turn, onion-like and with beady black eyes, and every member in a crowd of dreamed up citizens were dressed to the nines, even the common street urchins that starved for bread. Was the maker of this place so isolated from the world think create these things, was it one whom viewed the world rose-tinted, or was it mere personal preference by someone whom realized their own ability to control things here and did so fro their own amusement?
In this veritable maze of a realm, Death knew it must make haste. Powerful minds made for powerful ghouls or ghosts or whatever you happened to place your faith in.
It wasn't hard to locate the source. Finding these sort of things was part instinctual, and another part like hearing something distant when you were only half-listening. It was like a warbling song that turned to an unearthly scream, then the chime of a bell, the slow sob of a violin and the careful strokes made on ebony and ivory keys. It was enough to drive anyone else mad, but Death had heard the same song, with only a difference in instruments, time and time again. It came from a forest and through it until it stopped at a field of flowers, which gave off a cold and distant violet light like the stars. Bathed in their light were two people, one not a child but certainly not a woman, and the other was evidently the source of all this. The girl, in her red and clover decorated shoes, faced the man and spoke.
"Frederic," she said, in voice so sweet, "you said before that this whole world was just a dream you're having, right? But if this is your dream and you can be so positive that what's happening is just a dream..." she frowned. "How can you tell which is the real world, if what you're experiencing in the dream is that realistic to you?"
They talked for a bit after her rather enlightening statement, and the girl left, laughing at the silliness of worlds made up of dreams. But her companion seemed lost in thought about the whole affair, so Death took the chance to speak. "She raises a valid point, you must realize." Frederic started, as if woken from another sort of dream, and searched for the voice, but found that the owner was not present. At least to the naked eye.
Death would wait for this one, just to see what all might transpire.
Date Written: September 10th, 2012
Fandom: Crossover, Eternal Sonata/One Man Cleanup Crew
Rating: G
Author's Notes: I'm a third of the way done! ;__; <3 Tomorrow's prompt is for DLM, but I think I'll be saving that one for the last day, due to reasons I shall keep secret for now. But oh god, Eternal Sonata OST. So beautiful there are no words.
Most places within the Realm of Lingering are small, composed entirely of a room where those that traversed the place found comfort in denial of their current state. Others were lucky enough in their lot of life to create a whole building, a replica of their childhood home and the like. Each place was familiar by design, in every trick of the light, in every object carefully laid about, and in every scent that hung in the air. But never before could Death recall a case where a person created a whole world within, large, complex, new and with just the barest resemblance to the one whom created it.
There were strange creatures at every turn, onion-like and with beady black eyes, and every member in a crowd of dreamed up citizens were dressed to the nines, even the common street urchins that starved for bread. Was the maker of this place so isolated from the world think create these things, was it one whom viewed the world rose-tinted, or was it mere personal preference by someone whom realized their own ability to control things here and did so fro their own amusement?
In this veritable maze of a realm, Death knew it must make haste. Powerful minds made for powerful ghouls or ghosts or whatever you happened to place your faith in.
It wasn't hard to locate the source. Finding these sort of things was part instinctual, and another part like hearing something distant when you were only half-listening. It was like a warbling song that turned to an unearthly scream, then the chime of a bell, the slow sob of a violin and the careful strokes made on ebony and ivory keys. It was enough to drive anyone else mad, but Death had heard the same song, with only a difference in instruments, time and time again. It came from a forest and through it until it stopped at a field of flowers, which gave off a cold and distant violet light like the stars. Bathed in their light were two people, one not a child but certainly not a woman, and the other was evidently the source of all this. The girl, in her red and clover decorated shoes, faced the man and spoke.
"Frederic," she said, in voice so sweet, "you said before that this whole world was just a dream you're having, right? But if this is your dream and you can be so positive that what's happening is just a dream..." she frowned. "How can you tell which is the real world, if what you're experiencing in the dream is that realistic to you?"
They talked for a bit after her rather enlightening statement, and the girl left, laughing at the silliness of worlds made up of dreams. But her companion seemed lost in thought about the whole affair, so Death took the chance to speak. "She raises a valid point, you must realize." Frederic started, as if woken from another sort of dream, and searched for the voice, but found that the owner was not present. At least to the naked eye.
Death would wait for this one, just to see what all might transpire.
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Date: 2012-09-11 06:06 am (UTC)SLOW DOWN I CAN'T KEEP UP AUGH
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Date: 2012-09-11 06:14 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-11 06:15 am (UTC)NEVER STOP /grim
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Date: 2012-09-11 06:19 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2012-09-11 09:55 pm (UTC)CAN'T STOP WON'T STOP
especially when it comes to writing! i'll catch up on this someday. in the meantime, keep writing.
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Date: 2012-09-11 11:12 pm (UTC)(also i tried to smile at your response, ha. man, formspring spoiled me)
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Date: 2012-09-12 12:00 am (UTC)