𝐨𝐫𝐢𝐩𝐡𝐢 🌼 (
hearthwarming) wrote in
songerein2022-01-06 10:27 am
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Entry tags:
( open ) kiss your perfect day goodbye
Who: Oriphi and anyone!
Which: Interactive dream with open and closed prompts.
Where: Dreamscape
What: A nightmare going from bad to worse to the worst.
Warnings: Some descriptions of injury and violence.
1 ✧ all aboard the bad dream bus ✧ ota
2 ✧ liar, liar, pants on fire ✧ closed to existing cr
3 ✧ and an obligatory childhood-flavored prompt ✧ ota
(( ooc: although I wrote the prompts kind of as one continuous nightmare, please feel free to have your character jump in at any point! the prompts are meant to be flexible and the character doesn't have to have seen the whole thing basically. feel free to reach out to me at
camerata if you have any questions or something else you want to plot out with me! ))
Which: Interactive dream with open and closed prompts.
Where: Dreamscape
What: A nightmare going from bad to worse to the worst.
Warnings: Some descriptions of injury and violence.
1 ✧ all aboard the bad dream bus ✧ ota
[ The kingdom of Duskvale is bathed in, well - the light of dusk. It feels like a beautiful, bustling city, but it doesn't take longer than a moment to notice that there's something incredibly stifling and wrong and suffocating about the place, and especially so in the version of it that exists within this nightmare of Oriphi's. Though there are people on the streets, every human and elf and half-elf alike carries themselves as though they carry the weight of a thousand men on their shoulders, the burden of silence and isolation. Where there are conversations, words are chosen carefully and warily and voices are low, hushed, secretive.
And the middle of it all is a small tiefling woman. Ori trails behind her friends, almost like she's being slowed down by all the staring and whispering that they garner as they pass through. "What are those people doing here?" "Don't they know what it's like, here?" "The Divine Ruler will deal with them soon enough."
Ori has heard all of this before. She remembers it all clearly, because it feels like it happened yesterday - except, did it? Why does it feel like yesterday and two months ago all at once?
A small child runs up to her, then, tugging on her clothes in question. When Ori stops and glances down at the child, they say:
"Why couldn't you stop her, Oriphi?"]
Wh... How do you know my name?
[ "How could you let this happen? Why couldn't you stop her?" ]
Please, I-I don't... understand...
2 ✧ liar, liar, pants on fire ✧ closed to existing cr
[ In the span of what feels like a mere minute, the kingdom of Duskvale is engulfed in searing, purple flames and in the sky - finally freed from its frozen dusk and gone well into the dark of night - soars a dragon. The crushing atmosphere turns into one of desperation, the weighted gait of the townsfolk turns into running for survival, and the hushed whispers of the townsfolk and passersby have turned into screaming and cries for help.
And there Ori is, still in the middle of it all, and when she turns back around she finds herself facing her friends in various states of injury and unconsciousness. Kneeling and leaning against the weight of his sword, utterly spent, is a half-orc, her ever-brave paladin of a friend, and next to him lays an elven monk, an open gash across his chest as the paladin lays a hand upon the other man in a vain attempt to heal his wounds. Elsewhere is an elven woman with braided dark hair, her quiver emptied of all arrows as she lays slump against whimpering wolven companions - and a cloaked figure wearing a mask which has now split clean in half, revealing a face of alabaster skin, similarly unmoving. And just past them, a white-haired elf wielding a blade made of pure arcane energy, dragging himself to stand with all the energy he has left. And finally - a tall, half-elven man with his long, dark hair loose all around him, clutching his bloodied abdomen and barely sitting upright against the rubble of a broken fountain, barely conscious. ]
This isn't—
[ right. We fought the dragon, and we— ]
I have to help. I can still help. I can save everyone!
[ Except that as she lifts her hands to cast a spell, she's greeted by dead air. The half-elven man gives her a wry smile and with a hoarse voice says, "She destroyed my home, Ori. Why couldn't you stop her?" ]
It's all my fault...
3 ✧ and an obligatory childhood-flavored prompt ✧ ota
[ Ori feels a tug on her clothing and looks down and finds - not the child that had appeared to her in another nightmare - but her younger sister, Valphi, as a child. The young, red-skinned tiefling with white hair clings to Ori.
And though the nightmare had started with her in the streets of Duskvale, in another blink of an eye the surroundings are swept away into the landscape of a small village, and where once there were flames, things are now frozen, encased in ice. When the scenery is finally set once more, Ori appears as a child, herself, ostensibly older than the red tiefling by a few years. And despite being the older sibling, it's now the younger tiefling that seems to be the one in a protective stance.
"Those two girls are nothing but trouble. Look at what the younger one did now!" A villager exclaims, starting a chain of similarly charged remarks from others.
"It might have been an accident, but the truth is that they don't know how to control their magic and it's dangerous to have them around!"
"And where does the older one keep disappearing to in the forest? She always comes back not remembering where she'd been. What is wrong with them? I swear, that old man was foolish to have taken them in..."
Ori rests a hand on her younger sister's shoulder and says, ]
Val... don't. Let's just go. Please? I don't want to be here anymore.
[ But where her sister would have backed down and gone away with Ori, she instead says, in a cacaphonous voice that seems to echo the the voice of a grown woman which is then joined by the voices of several others,
"Why do you keep running away, Ori?"
But it's too late, and the young Ori runs without thinking, crashing into whomever as she tries to run in the direction of the woods nearby. ]
(( ooc: although I wrote the prompts kind of as one continuous nightmare, please feel free to have your character jump in at any point! the prompts are meant to be flexible and the character doesn't have to have seen the whole thing basically. feel free to reach out to me at
2
The sound of a familiar voice snaps him out of it, and he remembers that there are more important things than his own trauma that need to be dealt with in the here and now. And, more importantly, he remembers that he's no longer the weak boy he once was.]
Ori!
[He runs off to find her, drawing his sword to fight and defend as necessary. The search isn't a long one, and he's able to quickly piece together what it is she's seeing. These must be the friends she's spoken so highly of. That she cares so deeply about. And they're suffering and dying.
They aren't dead in real life. They can't be. Ori isn't the sort of person who can bury her emotions enough to hide the kind of pain that comes with this level of loss. She isn't him.
Right?]
Ori, look at me. I'm here to help you.
[He holds onto her shoulders for dear life, as if letting go would be to lose her in the trauma of the nightmare entirely.]
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And that is precisely why she's so damn afraid of letting her loved ones down in exactly the ways this nightmare is showing her, and why the pull of this imagined hell has an iron grip on her dreaming form. It's such that she's not even entirely aware that she's dreaming in a dream at this moment. Perhaps, she's awoken from the wonderful, warm dream she had been having in Reverein, and now she's paying the consequences for even a small piece of her subconscious having run away. She's so caught up in it, in fact, that she forgets that they had defeated this dragon and that this nightmare is a twisted, dire version of what really happened.
Diluc's voice and his grip - even as firm as it is - barely seem to register to the tiefling, and when she looks up at him, tears well up in her eyes and it's as though she's looking past him, at her friends and the purple flames all around them. ]
I'm... so sorry...
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She's panicking, and Diluc has practically no idea how to help her. He's a fighter, a vigilante, the sort of person who solves problems by gathering information and striking at the heart of the cause. Dreams cannot be conquered that way, especially when they aren't his, and that makes him resent this place and what happens within it just a little bit more.
Of course, that's no reason for him not to try. He certainly can't abandon her to suffer this alone. So he gives her a bit of a shake and reaches for her jaw with one hand, tilting her head up to force her to look at him rather than past him.]
Oriphi. Your friends are fine. This isn't real.
[His voice is firm, stern without being angry. If she can't anchor himself, then he'll have to be her anchor.
Of course, there's also a dragon wrecking everything in its sight. Diluc almost misses its approach, given his laser focus on her, but he notices in just enough time to get out of the way of the fresh set of flames it breathes over the area. He holds Ori close to his chest with one arm, almost instinctively protective, and holds his claymore out with the other.
He doesn't want to fight it. But he will if he has to.]
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The train of thought is derailed when the dragon's approach pulls her back into the depths of her fears and this nightmare, but only for an instant as Diluc's movement and protective gesture seems to shake her enough to further bring her into awareness. Not completely so, but now, at least— ]
Diluc...!
[ —she can put a name to the face. ]
Why are you here? You—you have to go. I can't protect anyone...
[ She doesn't seem to understand, still, that this is a nightmare. ]
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[The words come out of his mouth almost instantly in response to her doubts. He has no right to speak with any authority, not knowing the full extent of her history, but he does so all the same. He has to, or he has no chance of snapping her out of the torture the dream is putting her through.]
You can, and you have. This is a dream, Ori. Don't let it overwhelm you.
[Keeping an eye on their surroundings, he starts to move them both to a more covered position. Getting her back to her senses will mean nothing if they're killed on the spot. As he walks, his hold on her tightens slightly and he keeps talking to her.]
I need you to focus. What really happened in this city?
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3
Turning, she finds a girl who she catches by the arm before she can fall over herself.]
Whoa, careful.
[Her grip is as gentle as her voice as she sets her upright again.]
Are you okay?
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I-I'm sorry!
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No need to be. I'm the one intruding.
[So Tifa should be the one apologizing!
Her eyes flick to the others waiting several feet away and she frowns, but her focus turns back to Ori quickly. Had something happened there that made her want to run the other way?]
Where were you headed? Maybe you could show me around?
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The pressure of their collective gaze seems to weigh on the young tiefling. When she answers, her voice is quiet and as shrunken as her form, like she's afraid of taking up any space. She casts her own quick glance up at Tifa and finds the woman's patient smile to be something entirely unfamiliar, but not unwelcomed, and so despite everything she still answers. ]
To the forest... It's quiet there. But if you come with me people will talk about you, too...
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3
The child tiefling, in her quest to flee, knocks into him. He does not stagger from the clash, but instead steadies her on her feet with his hand. ]
Why do you flee, child.
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I'm... scared...
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[ The dream had suggested that she runs, but her sister remains in the village. Fear causes one to forget of others, for it is self-preserving. ]
The forest, or the village?
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Ori's small hands go up to her ears, covering them, in a vain attempt to escape the words. ]
I want to go to the forest... it's quiet in the forest.
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3 joining the bitty train
Oof—!
[—and the smaller body that slams into his own. Such a force would have been nothing had he been older, but as he's now ten, he stumbles and falls back.]
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I'm so sorry! I didn't mean to.
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—Oriphi?
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How do you know my name...?
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1
His attention is drawn to the tiefling woman he spots trailing behind a group of people who appear to be dressed for travel, and a frown pulls at his fine lips as he sees the startled look that crosses her face when a child reaches out to pull at her sleeve, demanding her attention. He recognizes her in passing, knows he has at least spoken to her through the journals, though they have never properly met in person.
It matters little. He knows not what lies at the heart of this dream, but he recognizes distress when he sees it, feels it permeate the air surrounding. He approaches the child that continues to question her, bending down to lay a hand against their shoulder even as he looks to Oriphi herself, his expression drawn with concern.]
I am certain she did her very best.
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She did do her very best, didn't she? That's what she's always thought.
But why didn't it ever feel like enough? ]
I...
[ The child looks at Dohalim, and then back up at Oriphi, giving her a piercing gaze almost like they can read the tiefling's mind - naturally so, given that they're a product of the aforementioned mind in itself. When they next speak, their voice seems to ring out with the voices of others, none of which sound like voices that belong to a child.
"What if your best wasn't enough?"
Ori glances down at Dohalim, then, giving him an apologetic glance. ]
Sir, I'm very sorry for taking up your time. I-I don't know what's going on.
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It's a question that resonates with him more strongly than he'd expected, his expression shifting as he frowns, his brows drawing downward. How is one supposed to answer such a thing?
He shakes his head at Oriphi's apology, his manner patient in all respects.]
You need not apologize. Are you aware of where we are?
[Whether she speaks of this being a dream or names the city within it, it will help him to decide how to proceed— but for now, he turns his attention to the child in question, drawing back up to his full height.]
It is true that sometimes our best is not enough— but when one gives all that they have, there is nothing left to offer. Whatever has taken place here, it is clear that all are burdened by grief.
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[ Strangely enough, even though Ori is sure that her answer is correct, she also feels an uncertainty tugging at her when she says it. This is Duskvale, indeed, but it feels... off. And the man speaking to her seems just as out of place as she and her friends are.
His words catch her for at a loss for words for a moment, though— and once more, there's a pull she feels at the back of her mind, something close to the feeling of recognition or realization, but just barely. Almost as if in response, the townsfolk lining the streets shift, each turning to face Ori and Dohalim as they speak out in a dissonant unison:
"It's her fault we're all going to die. It's all your fault, Oriphi." ]
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2 (with a lil side of 1)
Too much like Inazuma was.
And then in a flash, the tension snaps and fire rends the sky, a terrible creature descending. Ori’s friends – he assumes they’re her friends, her traveling companions – are scattered away from her, broken and bleeding, and Thoma sees plain as day the burdens that Ori has placed upon herself. This is not her fault and yet these apparitions would lay it on her shoulders.
The dragon circles overhead, maw dropping open to unleash a blast of terrible flame, and Thoma suddenly decides that he’s done watching. ]
Ori!
[ He flings his hands out, purple fire slamming into a barrier of soft yellow-orange light that springs out from his palms. His feet slide back in the rubble with the force of it, but he presses forward. ]
You need to listen to me! This isn’t your fault.
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Somewhere in the back of her dreaming mind, something seems to call out— ]
Thoma...
[ As soon as she mutters it, she looks surprised to have said it. Where did that come from, is that his name? That very something urges, spurs her to reach out and gently take a hold of the fabric of his sleeves as her words seem to spill out of her unconsciously. ]
I've let everyone down. It is my fault. I could have stopped all of this if I was just... enough.
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Ori, no…
[ At last, the gout of flame ceases as the dragon takes to the sky again, circling for another pass. Thoma turns fully to face her, his hands finding hers almost automatically. His fingers curl around hers tightly, warm and sure and real, an anchor in the chaos. There are so many things he wants to say, so many apologies he needs to make, but now isn’t the time. Not while Ori is so stuck in this nightmare. ]
No one person, no matter how mighty, can do everything. You’re so compassionate and strong – way stronger than you give yourself credit for. I know that you would have fought with everything you have to save these people and this place.
You’re enough, Ori. More than enough. This is just a bad dream.
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And when she hears him say all that he does, she feels as though she could actually believe it. That she can fight, that she can be strong. And that everything around them is a cruel trick that her mind is playing on her. ]
Thoma.
[ When she repeats his name, this time, her voice is knowing and present and most of all thankful. With their hands still entwined, she lifts them up and presses her forehead against his hands. And then, with a deep breath, she focuses on erasing the parts of this landscape that were borne out of her fears, focusing instead of what they did achieve. Almost as though the scene has begun anew, it plays out more like a memory - where her friends fight the dragon valiantly, defeating it before it destroys much more of the city. That's right, Ori thinks, this is just a bad dream.
When Ori looks back up and lowers their hands, the dragon crashes down into the town square where they stand, its roar shaking the city for one final time before its last breath escapes its throat. Those who remain erupt into celebration, though some in more muted, tired ways than others.
Ori, meanwhile, looks back over at Thoma, and with a sad smile says, ]
I've missed you.
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