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31_days2007-01-19 12:33 am
amethystlight.livejournal.com) wrote in 31_days2007-01-19 12:33 am
[Jan 19] [Gundam X] Mind Echo Part Three
Title: Mind Echo Part Three
Day/Theme: Jan 19 / No, no, thank you
Series: Gundam X
Characters: Olba Frost, misc extras
Rating: PG
He dreamed of going to a real park. Literally -- twice now in one week he had visions at night of a great grassy area with neat rows of trees lining paved walkways. He appeared to be seven years old in the dream and he was carrying a ball. Shagia was dutifully watching over his younger brother. Their parents remained no where in sight.
There were other children playing around them, many with parents and even a dog or two. It didn't bother the two brothers that they were missing something. It didn't matter. They had each other and their special link. To the rest of the world they were silently tossing a ball back and forth. Meanwhile, they were also telepathically playing word association games. It helped Olba learn and Shagia enjoyed teaching.
It was totally incongruous to what they had actually been doing when Olba was seven -- there were certainly no parks to enjoy at that time in the planet's recovery. Skills were being tested but not so casually. Either way, his brother was there when no one else was.
The second time he woke from the dream he glared bitterly at the ceiling, resenting the images. No such peace had existed and he didn't want to delude himself with them. Imagining such fiction did nothing to help. He was recovering physically, he even spent half his day just relaxing, reading or drawing, in the arboretum. But he had yet to go outside, and there was no point imagining what lay beyond the inner sanctum of the hospital. Certainly no parks, nor playing children, nor families, nor his brother.
The gap in his mind was still ever-present but he was on the verge of acceptance that he would never hear Shagia again. Three months of the distinct mental silence had been a strain, was still testing him daily. Slowly he was conditioning himself to realize that a response was not coming.
Yet still he could not help calling out.
In the dreams he could still feel the connection.
Olba turned onto his side to stare at the wall, then he turned the other way toward the door and the window looking out on the hallway. The horizontal blinds were open just enough to let in the bluish overnight lights for his wing of the hospital. No one would be wandering around at this time of night. He sat up, threw aside the blankets, and put on a robe before grabbing his sketching supplies.
It hadn't occurred to him before to go out at night; he half-wondered if an alarm would go off. But when he opened the door nothing happened. Just the usual click of the latch. He checked it to make sure it wouldn't lock, then closed it and walked down the hallway. The blinds on every window were closed. He rarely saw any of his fellow patients during the day so it figured he couldn't catch a glimpse of them now.
The arboretum was almost as dark as the hallways. When Olba looked up through the skylight he saw clouds -- not a bit of sky to be seen. That would make it difficult to draw. He should have requested a booklight.
The dim illumination gave a whole new atmosphere to the trees. He began to feel like he was somewhere else altogether. His dreams had always shown events in the daytime. Darkness, and nighttime, suddenly seemed foreign. He tightened his grip on his book. Ridiculous. This was nothing to be anxious about. It was the same place with a lot less light.
He approached the bench and glanced it over before sitting. He studied the leaves on the closest tree then began to draw. The shadows made all the difference.
~*~
The shadows held other images. Olba looked over the three pages of consecutive sketches, torn out of the book and lined up on the bench seat. Between the leaves were other things; distant objects but he knew what they represented. Two armies. A rebel group. A disparate cluster of nobodies who happened to hold the fate of everyone else in their hands. The great weapon, D.O.M.E.. They were all at war.
And the Frost brothers were not in the spread. There was no Virsago or Ashtaron to stop this time. They were not there at all, not hidden amongst the shadows and shapes. Olba wondered how things would have turned out if they hadn't been in that battle. Yet...they had been the instigators. How could things have progressed at all without them? Would Earthlings and Spacenoids have naturally locked horns again no matter what those who owned gundams were doing?
But the gundams had merely been tools. He and his brother could have accomplished what they needed with any other resources.
Couldn't they?
The gundams had left them in the condition they were in now -- Olba missing a part of himself and Shagia...missing. He studied the drawings. They were both missing.
He briefly wondered if this was a new manifestation of his Newtype abilities. Here he envisioned an alternate past. Would he begin to predict possible futures? He had lost his previous ability. It made sense that a new one would arise, because he would always be a Newtype.
At least that's what he told himself. He wasn't much of anyone special without his brother.
The longer he stared at the drawing, the more he felt the mental blockade around the hole in his mind shake. Suddenly he realized he had a choice laying before him. He could let that blockade fall...or he could push it back in place and forget this image of a war zone.
He grabbed the pages and crumpled them up. There was no immediate place to throw them out so he held them tightly for several moments, his knuckles turning white. He exhaled and looked toward the arboretum.
A faint whitish light began to play over the trees from above. There must have been a break in the cloud cover. He stared, lifting his gaze to the skylight. The moon shown high above. He flinched for just a second, but the feeling of terror passed.
A faint reprise of Shagia's scream rang through his mind then all was silent.
He dropped the crumpled papers and took up his pencils once more to begin another drawing. The shadows with the moonlight made all the difference.
Day/Theme: Jan 19 / No, no, thank you
Series: Gundam X
Characters: Olba Frost, misc extras
Rating: PG
He dreamed of going to a real park. Literally -- twice now in one week he had visions at night of a great grassy area with neat rows of trees lining paved walkways. He appeared to be seven years old in the dream and he was carrying a ball. Shagia was dutifully watching over his younger brother. Their parents remained no where in sight.
There were other children playing around them, many with parents and even a dog or two. It didn't bother the two brothers that they were missing something. It didn't matter. They had each other and their special link. To the rest of the world they were silently tossing a ball back and forth. Meanwhile, they were also telepathically playing word association games. It helped Olba learn and Shagia enjoyed teaching.
It was totally incongruous to what they had actually been doing when Olba was seven -- there were certainly no parks to enjoy at that time in the planet's recovery. Skills were being tested but not so casually. Either way, his brother was there when no one else was.
The second time he woke from the dream he glared bitterly at the ceiling, resenting the images. No such peace had existed and he didn't want to delude himself with them. Imagining such fiction did nothing to help. He was recovering physically, he even spent half his day just relaxing, reading or drawing, in the arboretum. But he had yet to go outside, and there was no point imagining what lay beyond the inner sanctum of the hospital. Certainly no parks, nor playing children, nor families, nor his brother.
The gap in his mind was still ever-present but he was on the verge of acceptance that he would never hear Shagia again. Three months of the distinct mental silence had been a strain, was still testing him daily. Slowly he was conditioning himself to realize that a response was not coming.
Yet still he could not help calling out.
In the dreams he could still feel the connection.
Olba turned onto his side to stare at the wall, then he turned the other way toward the door and the window looking out on the hallway. The horizontal blinds were open just enough to let in the bluish overnight lights for his wing of the hospital. No one would be wandering around at this time of night. He sat up, threw aside the blankets, and put on a robe before grabbing his sketching supplies.
It hadn't occurred to him before to go out at night; he half-wondered if an alarm would go off. But when he opened the door nothing happened. Just the usual click of the latch. He checked it to make sure it wouldn't lock, then closed it and walked down the hallway. The blinds on every window were closed. He rarely saw any of his fellow patients during the day so it figured he couldn't catch a glimpse of them now.
The arboretum was almost as dark as the hallways. When Olba looked up through the skylight he saw clouds -- not a bit of sky to be seen. That would make it difficult to draw. He should have requested a booklight.
The dim illumination gave a whole new atmosphere to the trees. He began to feel like he was somewhere else altogether. His dreams had always shown events in the daytime. Darkness, and nighttime, suddenly seemed foreign. He tightened his grip on his book. Ridiculous. This was nothing to be anxious about. It was the same place with a lot less light.
He approached the bench and glanced it over before sitting. He studied the leaves on the closest tree then began to draw. The shadows made all the difference.
~*~
The shadows held other images. Olba looked over the three pages of consecutive sketches, torn out of the book and lined up on the bench seat. Between the leaves were other things; distant objects but he knew what they represented. Two armies. A rebel group. A disparate cluster of nobodies who happened to hold the fate of everyone else in their hands. The great weapon, D.O.M.E.. They were all at war.
And the Frost brothers were not in the spread. There was no Virsago or Ashtaron to stop this time. They were not there at all, not hidden amongst the shadows and shapes. Olba wondered how things would have turned out if they hadn't been in that battle. Yet...they had been the instigators. How could things have progressed at all without them? Would Earthlings and Spacenoids have naturally locked horns again no matter what those who owned gundams were doing?
But the gundams had merely been tools. He and his brother could have accomplished what they needed with any other resources.
Couldn't they?
The gundams had left them in the condition they were in now -- Olba missing a part of himself and Shagia...missing. He studied the drawings. They were both missing.
He briefly wondered if this was a new manifestation of his Newtype abilities. Here he envisioned an alternate past. Would he begin to predict possible futures? He had lost his previous ability. It made sense that a new one would arise, because he would always be a Newtype.
At least that's what he told himself. He wasn't much of anyone special without his brother.
The longer he stared at the drawing, the more he felt the mental blockade around the hole in his mind shake. Suddenly he realized he had a choice laying before him. He could let that blockade fall...or he could push it back in place and forget this image of a war zone.
He grabbed the pages and crumpled them up. There was no immediate place to throw them out so he held them tightly for several moments, his knuckles turning white. He exhaled and looked toward the arboretum.
A faint whitish light began to play over the trees from above. There must have been a break in the cloud cover. He stared, lifting his gaze to the skylight. The moon shown high above. He flinched for just a second, but the feeling of terror passed.
A faint reprise of Shagia's scream rang through his mind then all was silent.
He dropped the crumpled papers and took up his pencils once more to begin another drawing. The shadows with the moonlight made all the difference.