2014-04-03 - Starfall: The Second Dream
| Title: Starfall: The Second Dream | |
|---|---|
| Summary: This is an IC dream, experienced on the night of December 24th. Everyone had it, but if you OOCly don't want to deal with it for whatever reason, it's fine to have your character forget, as dreams are wont to be. It is recognizably related to the first dream; it has the same feel to it, as it were. | |
| Who: Joseph Greer | |
| Where: Asleep | |
| OOC - IC Date: 04-03-2014 - 12-24-2013 | |
With typical dream logic, perspective shifts in a blur from the ski lodge in Hokkaido, upwards, sideways. It's a roller-coaster ride, a little queasy to stomachs that ate too many sweets on Christmas Eve. Surely Santa Claus does not travel in such a way. The ocean is the sky, and the mountains the sea; then gradually, it resolves into Tokyo Bay. Soaring upwards from there not unlike a seabird catching a thermal, the vision soars through the urban jungle of skyscrapers, gaining momentum to only narrowly avoid crashing into them as it weaves between towers. The geography is unreal, with Escher-esque walls climbing into each other, forcing dream-gravity, that pernicious sense of 'down', to turn loops on itself, frantic to keep up.
It alights within a penthouse boardroom, and although the external building itself is hazy and indistinct, one of dozens of mirror-bright black glass spires, the details within are breathtaking. Sandalwood smoulders in a solid gold brazier in one corner, sending sweet-scented smoke curling through the air at absurd expense. The polished table itself is empty, until, that is, the chair at the head turns slowly, slowly, smooth, agonizing perfection on a swivel.
A man sits within. He is a man like many other men; one of a million faces in a razor-sharp suit tailored either by elves or grotesquely underpaid workers stored in a basement. Maybe both. His face is lined with age. His hair has mostly taken flight from his head, with only a little gray remaining. His hands have been bathed in every kind of figurative blood imaginable, but left the literal blood for other, lesser souls. His spectacles gleam with grandfatherly wisdom.
His eyes burn with greed.
In his lap is a chrome case. Opening it, he carefully removes a spectacular golden lotus. Even more amazing, however, is the blinding light that fills the room from the moment the lid is opened even a crack. It casts the high chamber into stark relief, washing out all color: a white face, craggy with black shadows.
He is hungry as he stares at the orb of radiance collected at the lotus' center, emenating from the very tips of the seven individual petals. He is starving in a way he has never been physically. This is not a new feeling -- his appetite for power has always been insatiable. He has been ravenous his entire life. His is a hungry soul.
Cupping it in his palms, he gazes deeply into his future. His voice is scratchy as he speaks, rough with desperation, and a burbling undertone of unholy glee. This is it -- at long last -- the one he's been waiting for.
"I wish to be the greatest man in the world! No, a god among men! The whole world laboring to fulfill my every desire -- my dream, the dream of the entire world!"
And the lotus detonates, filling everything with light, light, light...
The vision resolves from dazzling white, white everywhere to... glittering white. No, not glitter: snowflakes. The first one falls with the vision to impact an... eye?
His eye. The second one catches on one of his rare eyelashes. By the time the third flake falls, his eye has closed. The last thing he sees is the golden lotus fading from view, as though it had never been.
Zooming out, snow falls on Shinjuku. Snow falls on Tokyo. Snow falls on Japan, on Asia... everwhere. It is not a natural disaster; a light, powdery dusting. A worldwide miracle, the news will say later, outside of the dreams, for this is a true dreaming. A White Christmas for everyone, everywhere.
It is, however, an unnatural disaster, as first one, then thousands, then everyone falls into slumber, wherever they are. This will take the course of the day -- Christmas will begin happily, if sleepily. But by the time the sun goes down... the only eyes still open in the world will be those also open to the supernatural.
OOC: Merry Christmas! We encourage you to spend today (4/3/14, Christmas Part 1) engaged in holiday delight (since it's not immediately obvious that the world is falling asleep) -- and face OOC tomorrow, and the Starfall finale, fully equipped with knowledge!
