Melding Dreams

[liralen]

My dreams are melding my inputs now. It's nicer than the fragmenting I've been having for a while as I learned the combat system of DMC and absorbed a bunch of Bleach and Cardcaptor Sakura.



This morning there were cliffs of granite on either side, with small ledges that I could leap up off of in sequence, flash fast. I had a sword, feeling is a light katana, not one of Dante's meat cleavers, and I was in shinigami uniform and something was after me. Fast, smart, and good and scary powerful. I also had firearms and some protective and healing magics, but they were for after. *grin* The sword was neater and better for when I could feel my enemy.

And I was leaping hard, randomizing my side moves and up moves, just making it harder for it to hit me. Still knew I was going to get hit. And that I had to swing when I felt/heard the wind of it's passage and presence. I couldn't rely on my eyes, it would be too slow. And I felt good doing it. Knowing this was what had to be done, and that it would kill me if I didn't take care of it the way it should be taken care of, so the choices didn't bother me at all.



I also dreamed something that turned into a short Bleach fanfic. It's got spoilers from the Soul Society arc of sorts, so I've cut it, too. It came from a very intense conversation I had with incandescens about good and bad captains and some of the differences.


An Answer of Sorts

Soi Fong is a shadow again. She follows with quiet steps the strides of Yoruichi-sama through the Fourth Division's hospital wards. Soi Fong doesn't want to be here. The quiet whiteness of the sheets, the rooms, the people, the scents and sounds of illness and weakness and pain.

Slender, strong Yoruichi-sama stops at a particular door. Gold eyes catch Soi Fong's gaze, and then swing into the room. They walk in. The sound of the respirator rasps against Soi Fong's nerves, softly, steadily. She looks at the pale face of Hinamori-chan. She looks up at Yoruichi-sama, who is simply watching the girl breathe. The butterflies of Suzumebachi's kiss are still patterned on her body, fading, but still delicate swirls against the dark skin. For a while Soi Fong simply waits.

The respirator gets to her, though.  Soi Fong finally says, "Why are we here..." the pause is automatic, still, "Yoruichi-sama?"

Yoruichi's head tilts to the side, eyes slitting half closed, "It's part of my answer, Soi Fong-taichou."

Soi Fong blinks at the words and her title.  "This is why you left... without...?"  She cannot finish the sentence in front of another, even if the other is unconscious.  "You didn't want me in a hospital?" she asks, incredulously, "How is this like us?  How would... doing as I asked have done this?"

Yoruichi swings about, suddenly almost chest to chest with Soi Fong. Soi Fong breathes Yoruichi's breath and it makes her catch her breath, but she stands firm, not giving way to the sudden incursion into her space.

Yoruichi smiles, all the way to her eyes. "You are stronger."

Soi Fong's chin goes up on reflex, "I had to be."

"Exactly." Yoruichi nods and slips past Soi Fong to exit the room. Soi Fong's eyes widen and she stands there for a few moments, hearing Yoruichi's steps pad off.

For a moment, she thinks about running after Yoruichi again, and then Yoruichi's voice saying "Soi Fong-taichou," sounds in her memory. Soi Fong-taichou. I am taichou now. I have responsibilities.

Soi Fong squares her shoulders and walks the other way, in the direction of her office.

Yoruichi, in the shadows, nods again and flashes away.