picture prompt meme;

[countofthree]

the picture prompt meme

— Comment with your character and any preferences.
— Others will leave a picture (or two, or three...)
— Reply to them with a setting or text thread based on the picture.
— Link to any pictures that are NSFW, please.
— Be aware that this meme will be image-heavy.

Comments

[firstroar]

[for Soldier Blue, it's rare to have a dreamless sleep. in the Shangri-La, that collection of refugees of like minds and abilities, the intricate web of thoughts and feelings is ever-present in waking and sleeping...yet somehow, suddenly it is not, and Blue has no means nor time to dread its absence before becoming lucid as foreign concern and confusion probes him.

his eyes flutter open, wide and alert in contrast to how frail and sluggish the rest of him is in rousing. that's how it is of late, his already delicate body growing weaker even as his grasp on the breadth of his abilities gets stronger.

after the initial jolt of consciousness, Blue's eyes fix on the man over him, finding no familiarity beyond the color of concern. it's different, not like a Mu. he's--]

Human...?!

[the exclamation of thought leaves him and passes to the man's mind, unbarred. there's a number of questions that bubble up, but first things first:]

Who are you? Show me--

[he can't risk being left in the dark; he'll probe right away to be certain he's not now in the hands of Mother!]

[upheavals]

[ it's too much of a shock to register anything but shock when it hits. like being run over by a wyvern at top-speed, trampling all other thoughts but was that just in my head --

his head hurts. his body hurts. his worries are many, ranging from his current situation to those of his future, of how the alliance might be doing, are his people safe? where is he, and how soon could he find his way back? there's a lot to see and claude's seeing them right alongside whoever it is that's seeing them (his head, his memories, and claude's always been more aware of his thoughts than most), but with nothing more than a broad question of who are you? to guide him, there's not much in the way of solid answers. only that he's claude (born khalid), his memories full of lands of different environments, people of different upbringings, feats of magic and crests, a childhood riddled with uncertainty and danger, and.

the pandemonium set into his thoughts by the sheer overflow of them has claude flinching back, for his senses to go momentarily overwhelmed by the flash of pain that explodes along his temples at the sudden movement. his vision is spotty when he tries to blink at the man that'd spoken-but-not, brows furrowing as he tries to consider what just happened when the answer was obviously, ]

Hey, easy. [ ow?? ] My head's been pounding enough on its own already, even without a mage trying to add their own punches into the mix.

[ he's disgruntled and disoriented, and he still can't see past the blur of pain, but there's something to be said about adrenaline and its effects on someone's focus, he supposed. he can't falter. grabbing a hold of his thoughts and focusing on the topic at hand lends him some strength, even if trying to keep his tone light was taking more out of him than he expects. ]

How about you calm down and ask me what you want to know instead of doing -- whatever it is that you're doing. That is you that's doing it, right?

[firstroar]

[there is some morbid sense of security in how quickly Blue's mind can dive into these confusing, mashed-up memories that erupt from his question, but they are still exactly that: confusing and mashed-up, sights he's never seen and can't understand on their own. no sign of ships, of towers of glass and steel, no mention of Mother...

what is going on?

Claude's pain comes through to Blue like a sudden blotting of color or sharp sound that makes him withdraw his mind's reach, his eyes squeezing shut as he grimaces. slowly, a hand reaches up to his head, shielding his eyes before pressing his palm against his temple. there the hand remains as the man talks. absently, his other arm shifts a little in a half-hearted and soon-forgotten attempt to sit up.]

Why... [his voice is raspy from disuse; he gives up on it.] I don't...understand. What is happening? Have you...brought me here? [his eyes slowly open in a squint.]

This isn't...a dream...?

[upheavals]

[ well, there goes that hope. did dreams usually hope that they were dreams? not often, right?

claude sits back and lets the man find his equilibrium, appearing as disoriented as claude feels but slightly worse for the wear. he's a skinny one, dressed in an attire that claude's never seen before. his hair reminds him briefly of lysithea, of edelgard, and then his focus is drawn back to -- well, a lot of things. the man's voice, the man's sort-of voice (in his head? was that in his head?), his words, his confusion, his two questions. of which only one had a definitive answer that claude could stand by as the truth. ]

Sorry, but that'd be two for two on the 'no' front. I'm not the one who brought you here, and this isn't turning out to be much of a dream either.

[ too bad. if either of those had been true, this guy probably would've had it easier. sorry 'bout that, but also: not. ]

Now that I've answered your questions, how about taking a stab at a few of mine? [ namely, ] You seem to be talking without actually talking. Care to enlighten me on how?

[firstroar]

[there's no lie in the man's words -- nor the thoughts behind them; he seems as confused and out-of-sorts as Blue is!

...well, a bit more lucid, but that's probably a good thing. better, too, that the reaction to hearing telepathy isn't immediately kill the Mu!

it may be strange, but he'll take that as a blessing.

slowly, Blue pushes himself to sit up, feeling as though he were trying to move through molasses.]

It is one of my psionic abilities. [even saying that much seems to stoke any instant ire. curiouser and curiouser.

now upright, he exhales heavily, his head dipping down.]

It is strange for this to not be a dream; I have been asleep for many years now. [he lifts his eyes just enough to peer through his bangs at Claude.]

But I can't feel the presence of my people. Even in dreaming, I always could.

[he hasn't been this alone in a long, long time.]