ᘚ a passing mod (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
passingmod) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
onepassingnight2012-12-15 09:24 am
passingmod) wrote in onepassingnight2012-12-15 09:24 am
[Mingle Post] Holidays
Who: Everyone! Open to All
What: Holiday Mingle Log
When: the holiday season
Where: Locations in comments, or add your own.
Tonight, dreams take the form of the winter holidays. Everything is imagined in grand scale, from a winter wonderlandscape to a glorious feast, to gifts under the tree and the inevitable mistletoe. All of everyone's favorite things have made their way into the dreams. And it feels so vivid and real.
(ooc: This is a post to keep threads together for winter holiday antics. Separate posts are also fine, and this one is optional. Feel free to use the location subthreads as prompts, or to add something entirely different. These include hints of the dreams crossing into waking life; those are small and entirely optional as well.)
What: Holiday Mingle Log
When: the holiday season
Where: Locations in comments, or add your own.
Tonight, dreams take the form of the winter holidays. Everything is imagined in grand scale, from a winter wonderlandscape to a glorious feast, to gifts under the tree and the inevitable mistletoe. All of everyone's favorite things have made their way into the dreams. And it feels so vivid and real.
(ooc: This is a post to keep threads together for winter holiday antics. Separate posts are also fine, and this one is optional. Feel free to use the location subthreads as prompts, or to add something entirely different. These include hints of the dreams crossing into waking life; those are small and entirely optional as well.)
no subject
But she's had years teaching her not to do that, years teaching her that following a heart is following something unreliable, and likely to break. There is no room for it on the battlefield, she's been told. And her life, she's been told, is made for the battlefield. She knows it herself.
It's a cruel irony, that at the moment she hears words she's wanted to hear from anyone, just to hear them, just once, she has to stop her ears to them. There's little sign of it in her posture, yet, as she keeps her back straight and only the tight grip of her hands betrays her.
"I don't intend to abandon my world." The words are tight, not with anger, but with the effort to remind herself and make herself say them.
no subject
Even if he wanted to say yes.
"I can't think of a better person to ask her that."
It's part of the few words he can muster, among many more he is left to think as he rises his helmet to see her. The small unruly teenager he first met in Econtra was now a grown woman with the fate of a world in front of her, that matured and would get to shape her own life.
She had grown so much.
I'll face a lot of strong enemies, and you're the strongest person that I know. You're also the person I'm grown to trust for years, and I can't imagine going out there without even dreaming of you.
"I know you can't." He concedes. "But if I go home... I want to be with you."
Even if it would involve treason to either of their sides.
no subject
She says nothing. She can't let the words in her mind escape her mouth. Instead, she stays with her back and stiff shoulders turned halfway to him, hiding her expression, which a surge of effort keeps neutral.
"Good luck to you, then."
no subject
He feels as if he was leaving Ami to die aboard a ship.
His feet cross through the snow, closing the distance between himself and the woman. One of his armored hands grab one of Ami's, while the other kindly puts the small box on her palm.
Inside, there is a familiar comb.
"Goodbye, Ami." He nods. "I'm glad I got to meet you."
He feels old words coming back to haunt him as he turns his back on her. Don't look back, Spartan. The worn armor walks towards the storm blazing behind them, rifle at the ready. For moments, it wavers between a howling dark hidden amidst the snow, and a familiar tower.
His silhouette disappears within the blizzard.
still ami; icon for emotion
By then, he's already walking away. For a moment, she watches him go with no change in her expression. She remembers fighting together, planning together, sharing together. A word, a well-timed shot, a hand on her shoulder. Slowly, the bland neutrality gives way to something introspective, and then to something painful and raw.
There's something chilling in the dream, a mood that doesn't even depend on the events around her, a sense of everyone leaving, of missing them all at once with a futile desperation, separated by divorce and death and the barriers between worlds.
"I want to go!" she calls out as she breaks into a sudden run, but he is too far ahead. She can't even see him. Unthinkably, there are tears. She runs after him until she falls to her knees from fatigue, but no one hears her as she yells into the ice and snow with useless frustration. "I really wanted to go!"
When she wakes up, the emotion of the dream seems unreal next to the still, quiet darkness of her room; but as she touches them, she realizes her eyelashes are still damp.