riverviewlogs | OPEN | Dreamscapes

Entry tags:

OPEN | Dreamscapes

who: Ciel Phantomhive and YOU
what: Memory Sharing
when: October 9th-23rd
where: In dreamland...
warnings: Warning for child torture, murder, general murder

ONE - Ciel watching his fiancee fight on the ~~Titan~~ Campania
TWO - The night his parents died.
THREE - Branded
FOUR - Almost eaten
FIVE - Warm milk after bedtime
SIX - Dreams for the future
SEVEN - The Ripper's last victim

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[If you look around, it's clear you're on a cruise ship of some kind. Water has flooded in by a couple inches, chairs and tables are throw around haphazardly. A boy, Ciel, is sitting in the water, watching in horror as a group of what looks like zombies start to converge on a girl around his age, with blonde hair and wearing a tailcoat over her slip.]

Ah! My leg... Lizzie, Run!

[But the girl doesn't get up and Ciel draws a gun from his vest, firing off several shots into the heads of the zombies until his clip is emptied. And he can't stop any more from reaching her.]

I wanted you to think of me as cute. Until the very end.

[She's crying and there are too many of the zombies. Just as she's blocked off from sight-]

LIZZIE!

[But then one had a sword thrust through it's head and the blade is held by the girl, who proceeds to cut them to pieces, leaping on another to pull a matching sword from a display on the wall. And then she continues cutting them to bits, each step she takes like a dance step. Equal parts terrifying and elegant. And then she thrusts the sword at a pair that snuck up behind Ciel.]

This... this uncute appearance. I didn't want you of all people to see me in such a state. But... this time, I will protect you!

[She turns quickly, blades held out to her sides.]

I am the daughter of the leader of the Order of the British Knights: Marquis Alexis Leon Midford: Elizabeth! Wife of the Queen's Watchdog!

[And again, she dances along through the water, cutting them to pieces, stopping only when none are left and lunging for a man holding a chainsaw, with long red hair. Only to have her blade grabbed a a butler with crimson eyes.

video if you'd like]

Edited 2017-10-11 04:23 (UTC)

[It's eerily quiet in the house as a pair of twin boys run through the halls.]

Mother! father!

[The first pushes open the door to a study but stops. Near the now open door is a large black dog in a pool of blood that, when his eyes follow it, lead to a couple. The man, dark haired and wearing a suit, is holding tightly to a woman, golden haired and in a fine dress. Both are dead. And the child turns and runs, his twin on his heels again.]

Somebody! Anybody! Help!

[The only person they find is an old man, fending off someone they can't see, but he turns his attention to them]

Lord Ciel! You shouldn't be here, run-

[And the old butler is stabbed in the back, the twin in the back covering his brothers eyes before they're both grabbed.]

Let's take 'em with us. He'll fetch a good price. There's this thing called idle curiosity and it's got deep pockets.

Edited 2017-10-21 01:50 (UTC)

[In the center of a large room with an altar in the center of it, surrounded by cages filled with children all dirty and half-starved, a young Ciel is being held and fighting against several adults, one pulls his shirt up to show his back.]

I shall give you the Mark of the Noble Beast.

[And he's screaming and crying, as if this is something he's seen before and doesn't want to endure but he's small, just a child, and a hot brand it pressed into his back, making him scream again.]

[Ciel lays in the center of a very large bed, much too large for someone his size. He wears a hospital gown and the right side of his face is carefully wrapped in bandages. His eyes don't seem to focus anywhere. Beside the bed is a teenaged boy with a head of blonde hair, just keeping Ciel company, until there's a knock at the door.]

"Ah, Sebas- oops."

[The man walks right past the teen and into the room.]

Finny? Will you leave for awhile?

[One the bed, Ciel already starts to go into a panic at the sound, huddling into the blankets as if they offer from protection.]

"B-but"

I have something very important to discuss with the young master.

N-no! Go away!

[The teen very quickly throws himself between the man and Ciel.]

Did you hear what I said? Please leave.

"P-please, wait! The young master still isn't-"

[But his wrist is grabbed by the man and he's dragged from the room, even as the teen digs his heels into the floor. As he shuts the door, the man adds, very coolly:]

Thank you for caring for the young master. It won't be necessary anymore.

[And the door is slammed shut, the man approaching the bed once more where Ciel has now cocooned himself in the blankets.]

We received a letter from the Queen. And... it seems we'll be thrown out of this village tomorrow morning. Brooding over your fears and regrets, curled up in your blanket... is not what you should be doing right now. Come, get out of bed.

[But the boy doesn't budge and a black smoke starts to surround the man, almost oozing from him and crawling onto the bed.]

Very well. You won't have to experience any more hardships if you're no longer the Queen's Watchdog. No one will blame you for not wanting that forever. The servants will surely treat you well. However...

[The smoke has covered the room, the bed, and suddenly it rips Ciel out from under the blankets and into the air. The mans eyes are slits and his teeth are fangs.]

Abandoning your revenge mid-way is against the contract! What an utterly boring end.

[He grabs Ciel by the face, looking bored and disappointed.]

I feel sorry for all the people that became a victim to your boring existence. Well, since you're going to be disappearing now anyway, it's not as if you care.

[The smoke rips away the bandage covering his face and right eye.]

It's not what I was hoping for but... it might fill me up a little bit.

[The smoke covers him bit by bit, converging on the pentagram etched into his right eye. He goes limp and then something in him seems to snap.]

SEBASTIAN! You bastard! Let me go, right now!! That's an order!

[And he's dropped onto the bed, breathing heavily and the smoke dissipates.]

Dammit! I've never had such a terrible wake-up call! This is terrible behavior towards your master, Sebastian!

[Sebastian just smiles. As if he's done absolutely nothing wrong.]

Yes. Do forgive me, you were tossing and turning so badly. [He kneels.] Good morning, my lord.

[Ciel watches him, smiles himself. And then kicks the man in the shoulder, scowling.]

You... really tried to eat me just now, didn't you?

No, no, I was only ninety percent serious!

Edited 2017-10-11 04:24 (UTC)

[It's night and in a room that had two large canopied beds. One bed is empty, the other has a young Ciel laying under his quilts, coughing and trying to catch his breath. The door to the room creaks open and an identical child enters the room, slipping to his brothers side and placing a hand on his shoulder.]

Ciel..?

I warmed up some milk for you.

[In his hand is a steaming cup and the sickly twin sits up, taking the cup in both hands as the healthy one sits on the edge.]

It's full of honey so it'll be yummy and good for your throat. It's hot so drink slowly.

[And he sips at it, smiling.]

-It's good. [Almost like he's surprised that his brother managed it but his brother always was amazing to him. Strong and healthy and kind, there wasn't anything he couldn't do.

Once the cup is empty, they curl up together in bed.]

Don't tell Gramps! "Nothing sweet before bedtime! You'll get cavities!"

[And the sickly twin giggles, turned towards his brother.]

Ah-ha-ha! You sound just like him!

[And that's how they stay until they fall asleep.]

[The twin Ciel's appear again, this time in a church, both dressed in matching outfits, like little gentleman. Behind them, their father talks with the Vicar about the St. Micheal Festival, neither twin cares.]

An earl sure has a lot of work to do, huh?

Yeah.

I think you'll make a terrific earl, just like father, when you're big!

You think so?

For sure!

[The one twin seems excited for his brother, encouraging his brother regarding his decided future. And then he turns a little serious.]

I want to grow up to be a fine man like father too. I was to be a little brother you'll be proud of, Ciel.

[The other is surprised, like he never even thought about his brother being anything but perfect.]

You already are! What do you want to be when you grow up? A vicar? A doctor?

[The other is suddenly bashful, hands held behind his back, flushing.]

Umm... Well, I... [Immediately he gets excited.] ... want to go to London and open a toy store!

[The other is just shocked.]

Huh? N-nobles don't sell toys! Why don't you become a vicar or a doctor and live nearby?

See, I wish... there were more toys for children to play with inside. [It's something personal for him, who is often too sickly to play outside.] Maybe I can't be like father, or you, Ciel... but I want to become capable in my own right. It's just like Uncle Diedrich said.

[His brother is visibly upset, as if he might start crying.]

Why're you saying this stuff?

What?

We could always be together if you took up the vicarage on our estate. So why do you want to leave me all alone?

All alone..? But Elizabeth will come here as your bride, Ciel! Then you'll always be together, just like mother and father!

[The twin is unconvinced, still pouting.]

Ciel?

[It's a cemetery in the spring, and there are only a few people standing in it. Ciel stands there in a suit, hair neatly combed back and covered by a tophat. Only a few feet away is his butler, and nearer still is an asian man, muttered something in Ciel's ear before walking away.

The young earl looks serious.]

Sebastian. We have someplace to be. Come.

[They cross the cemetery to where a man in all black and long silver-hair sits on a gravestone, the plot for it fresh.]

Undertaker, are you done?

Of course. I cleaned her up and buried her. See? [He gestures to the grave. "Mary Jane Kelly" it says. Sebastian stares at the grave in shock.]

My last client from the Jack the Ripper incident. It seems she was an immigrant from overseas. We could not find a soul to claim her body. [Undertaker slips behind Ciel, one long sleeve draped over one shoulder and lightly poking a long black nail into Ciel cheek on the other side.]

And so the kind earl built a grave for the nameless whooore!

I am not kind. I... knew. I knew that I would not... be able to save this woman. If I had only... thought of her life first... there were any number of ways to rescue her that night. But I did not attempt any of them. I knew she could have been rescued... but my first priority was to capture Jack the Ripper. I knew... that I would not... save her life. I knew... and I let her die. Just as I let my own flesh and blood die...

{Undertaker looks curiously at the earl.] Do you regret it?

No. Jack the Ripper is no more. The pall cast on Queen Victoria has been lifted.

Queen Victoria, hm? Can't say I like her onnnne bit! She only looks from afar... and makes the earl handle aaaaall the tough dirty work.

That is the fate of our family. [Ciel brings a ring settled on his thumb, a blue diamond, to his lips.] It has been handed down for generations together with this ring.

That ring is practically a collar, hmm? [He has both hands on Ciel's shoulders now, and he's almost leering.] It binds you to the Queen through the chains of fate.

[He pulls away and turns to face Undertaker.] The one who decided to put that collar around this neck... was I.

[Quickly enough that neither Ciel or Sebastian can stop him, Undertaker has grabbed Ciel by the tie and pulled him up and to him.] I pray you do not hang yourself with it someday. I would find that gravely disappointing.

[He lets the tie go and starts walking away.] Feel free to visit me. Milord and Master Butler are welcome any time. Hee hee...!

[Sebastian moves to fix his masters clothing.] -You truly are kind.

Do not make me repeat myself. I am no such thing-

Oh, but you are. Or would you rather... I address you as "coward"?

[From what he can see, whoever it is is trying to stay quite hidden. It isn't clear at first who it is, or what this strange dream is, but he's been in a place like this before. A quick look around ensures that he is alone this time, much to his added confusion, so he turns to watch the dream memory play out.]

[It isn't long before the fear starts to creep in on him, slowly, and then faster as he realizes he recognizes the voice screaming out from within the blanket fort. On the fog bank of a dream before him, the young blonde man seems to be having a losing discussion with someone he recognizes well enough. All at once, he is equal parts anger and fear as the intensity of the emotion taking him starts to ramp up - Undertaker does not handle fear well.]

[By the time the demon has made it clear that he intends to devour the boy, the anger and fear are intense enough that he is trembling, torn between stepping into the memory, where he will do no good, and backing away. But now, there is a new element. There is a threat to the child. He cannot allow this.]

[He will not.]

[A hand reaches back behind him, fingers trembling, grasping under his hair and collar for the one sotoba that he carries with him always and finds it not there.]

What?!

[It is gone. This is a dream world, but his beloved death scythe is gone. He doesn't have time to contemplate this though. The sensations running through him intensify once again; in the images, the butler is shedding his human form, preparing to devour the boy whole.]

[And then it ends. Ciel comes back to himself, the demon retreats, and all seems almost normal again. But the torrent of emotion Undertaker is left in hasn't faded, and he snaps awake in an instant, world suddenly thrown into the darkness of his bedroom. Eyes wide with the urgency of it all, body trembling in his fury and terror, he manages to spot the one living person in this world or any other that means anything to him anymore.]

He's in danger. The boy is in danger.

[Ciel is curled comfortably in bed, sleeping soundly, but in his mind he doesn't see it as such. It doesn't take a second more to consider that before the reaper is up in an instant, tearing the sheets off, hand going to - and this time finding - the sotoba. With a shout, he swings it toward the first thing that moves in the glowing green of his weapon, what he thinks through his crippled vision is an intruder. The satisfying scream he should hear as the now death scythe cuts through the curtain cleanly is unexpectedly replaced by the sounds of shattering glass - two, to be sure. There, he pauses.]

[Something doesn't quite feel right here. The room smells familiar, the feel of his scythe blade slicing through the enemy isn't as solid as it should be. He stands still for a moment, straining his other senses for the sounds of anything, the smells of anything that shouldn't be as it is. And then he realizes where he is. Some of the tension drains from him, draining away the fear and anger bit by bit as he looks around, then down at his hands, where the scythe grip rests cool and solid. He looks then to where he'd swung and finds the window to his shared bedroom, shattered.]

[Confused, he frowns and soothes the scythe, the green glow dulling to nothing.]

[He's not expecting the sound of Undertaker's harsh awakening, he's not expecting the sound of glass shattering or his roommate shouting. Undertaker is the one he can't really imagine ever losing his cool, succumbing to nightmares the way he does.

So the sudden noise wakes the teen, panic clutching at his own heart, making him gasps and reach almost wildly for the switch to his bedside lamp. He definitely isn't expecting to see Undertaker standing, scythe in hand, and window shattered.

His voice is still a bit thick with sleep, but the confusion and concern seeps in:] Undertaker..?

[The sounds of shifting on the bed behind him draw his attention and he turns, ignoring the sharp stab of something in his foot as he does so. On the bed, Ciel has been rudely awakened and the sudden realization anchors him back into reality. The sensations plaguing him during the dream still hold tendrils around his chest, but their grip is fading as fast as they had come.]

Milord...

[He looks down at the scythe in his hand and returns it to its former state. Something in his foot stabs at him again as he steps once to lean it against the wall, at a place where the glass from the window hasn't been spread around.]

Everything is fine, milord.

[He's still waking up but there's enough going on that he just rubs at his eyes and focuses on Undertaker.

Ciel has had this dream, memory, often enough that he's getting better at holding the panic in but it doesn't occur to him that Undertaker had seen and felt it all. He can hear something as Undertaker moves, and slips to the edge of the bed to look.]

Everything- there's glass..! [And he realizes that Undertaker has been standing in it and on the pieces. And he's more worried about that than anything else, the teen scrambling off the bed to get a towel.]

[The window. He looked back to it and then at the floor and... Why were there two spots with broken glass? The one near the window, he could explain away. The second one, smaller than the first but with larger shards, he couldn't, not until he looked up and saw the lighting fixture was no longer in one piece.]

[He sighed and moved to sit at the edge of the bed, mindful this time of the sting in his foot. Broken glass. Of course. He was going to need to fix this. Before he could sit, the Earl jumped up and rushed from the room.] Milord, be ca... reful.

[But the teen was gone. Ciel would know well enough to watch his footing, but they had no idea how far the shards had gone. He turned his head to call back to the boy and felt his braid tug against something else, something in his shoulder, and grimaced at it, but ignored it for the moment.]

Please put your shoes on before you come back in here, milord.

[He doesn't bother paying attention to what towel he grabs, just that it's a clean one, before he hears Undertaker call for him to put on his shoes. He almost didn't register it but it gets through just as he's about to head in, stopping and just slipping them on, grabbing Undertaker's as well, before going back to his guardian.

He can hear the glass crunching under his shoes as he comes back in, not worrying about it now that his feet are covered, settling on the bed beside Undertaker... eyes drawn to his shoulder and paling.]

Y-you... [With Sullivan and Wolfe, it had been easier to keep his calm. He hadn't been truly invested in their well-being, he'd been able to focus and take charge.]

Your shoulder...

[While he waited for Ciel to return, his foot took his attention. He lifted it and, rested across the opposite knee, he could turn it over and see the bottom where a streak of red had started to form around a sliver of glass that had embedded itself there. It stung and his skin protested as he felt around for the part that remained outside of him and tugged it easily free. Once that was done, he lifted the piece closer to get a look at it, then set it aside on the nightstand and sighed in dismay at his foot. That was going to stain the carpet if he'd bled on it, and that was the worst of it.]

[As he was about to try and see what his braid had caught on - likely more glass, likely from the lighting fixture - the teen returned, and wearing shoes. He was glad of it. Only one of them would be hurt tonight and that was still one too many. He'd opened his mouth to thank the Earl, but something caught the boy's eye.]

[He gave a soft sound and tried to look over his shoulder at what it was and could make out the lines of a piece of glass sticking up from the muscle across his shoulder blade. He blinked, then grinned.]

Well, look at that. Right through the shirt, isn't it?

[ Jason's boot's moved through the graveyard, following the scene as it played before his eyes. He knew he should be betetr at blocking these things, but the more he's seen the more he's learned and if anything it's showing him how right he had been. Ciel Phantomhive and Bruce Wayne were kindred spirits.

More than that, the important bit isn't even his friend, or the Undertaker, or the fact he could finally see the butler. It was the grave that pushed him forward. He wasn't sure if this dream was like other's where they could interact or not but he wanted to touch that stone. ]

Mary Jane Kelly, the last victim of Jack the Ripper. [ his breath caught in his throat. THIS, this was history left out of books, the case had been solved? This boy had stopped the ripper? Still as he spoke it he moved to stand close to the stone to look at it and the fresh earth. What a life the young earl lived.]

[He wishes he's grabbed the medkit but his mind had just been focused on a quick and easily solution for the time being. Not a complete one though, as it now appeared.

Very carefully, Ciel moves Undertaker's braid so it doesn't tug at the piece of glass, getting a better look at it before handing Undertaker the towel, in case he wanted to tear a piece for his foot.]

Mm, I can't tell how deep it is though...

[He's seen, and done, worse, but this makes his stomach twist and turn. He's afraid to try to help with it at all.]

[He took the towel offered and held it against his foot, drying the blood up there before he turned his attention to the one in his back.]

It feels deep enough I might need to stitch it. We'll see. [As he said that, he felt a thin trail of blood began to trickle its way down his back and sighed again, more in exasperation than anything.] Milord, I do apologize for putting you through this. If I clean this up and fashion a bandage to hold the wound closed, would you be able to help me place it?

[Ciel, the current one, steps forward, watching his past self and then focuses on Jason. Not the worst he could have seen, after the formation of his contract with Sebastian.

Lightly, he lets his own hand reach out to touch the grave and then lets it fall to his side.]

One of them but the last official victim. The Queen was glad to see an end to the murders, enjoyment of the Season was being disrupted.

[Ciel abruptly shakes his head. The shirt, even with the blood, could probably be saved once the glass was out. His next words though make the earl's eyes flash towards his face, wide.]

Stitch? We don't have anything for that! [He doesn't think so anyway. And normal thread wouldn't help, it could be cleaned, it was thin.]

I can help with the bandage but if you need stitches... we should call someone.

Edited 2017-10-12 04:36 (UTC)

Nonsense. We have what I need here. It's nothing I haven't done before. [He reached back around to feel for the edges of the injury, grimacing faintly at the complaints his skin gave as it was disturbed.] Little hard to reach, but I can manage.

Ah, don't bother with it. Have you seen the rest of me? I'm hardly worried about looking pretty anymore. Besides. [He gestured to the window, in pieces on the floor and in its frame.] I've that to take care of and I'd like it not to wait.

I'm more worried about you than a window. We'll just be a bit chilled.

[He'll curl up against Undertaker with both their blankets atop them. They'd manage.

He can't help but frown though, watching Undertaker reaching for the wound. It didn't seem like it was a good enough reach. His stomach is still uneasy but he can't let Undertaker do this on his own.]

Tell me what you need. I... I'll do it.

Precisely. You being ill on my account is the last thing we need. [He reached down and patted at his back, where the blood had dripped, to keep it from moving down to the rim of his pants. Bad enough that he had ruined one clothing item tonight, among other things. Once done, he lifted the bottom of his shirt and carefully, carefully lifted it up and over the glass and over his head, letting his braid slide out through the neck hole against his front. Top now gone, it wouldn't be hard for Ciel to see the scars lacing his arms and back and chest. This definitely was not his first attempt at mending his own wounds.]

[That the boy was willing to help him, it touched a place in his chest. The grin softened.]

I'll need a few minutes to get everything cleaned and ready, but I'm in no hurry. Until then, milord, I'll ask you to please just relax. [That was... a terrible dream that he'd seen, that had caused him to jump up in such a rush.] I've had another dream with you in it, but we can talk about it later. [He turned, then, to face the boy evenly.] Are you okay?

We'd just stay bundled up. [He wouldn't be able to get away with just a nightshirt in that case but he'd live. And that was the most argument he gave, instead making himself watch so that the glass didn't get caught on the shirt as he tugged it off.

And couldn't help but eye all the scars. He'd never realized just how expansive they were. It isn't comfort enough for him though, knowing Undertaker has dealt with anything like this before.]

I'll get warm water then. [It's a good distraction but his next words give the boy pause.] I'm alright. As alright as I can be when you have glass sticking out of you.

[He tilted his head back and groaned at the ceiling.] What am I going to do with you?

[Rather than fuss about it further, he moved to shift his seat and crawl back over the bed, careful not to set his feet down where more glass had fallen and give himself yet another cut. Two was enough.] No, don't trouble yourself. This will need more than that and I'm not bleeding all over the sheets. Been too much of that tonight as it is.

[Heel lifted so as not to touch the floor, he limped his way into the bathroom and tossed his ruined shirt into the trash bin there. One flick of a finger had the lights on and he reached into the cabinet under the sink for a wash cloth, then sat himself on the edge of the tub, back to the wall, and started the water running.]

[First order of business was to clean his hands and nails, then clean and bandage the cut on his foot. The glass there had been small and he wasn't worried about that one too much. Once that was in place, he set about dealing with the other. He'd left the glass in it as he worked to keep the blood from dripping too much while he dealt with the smaller of the two, but now he reached back and removed it in one slow, smooth motion. As with the first piece, he looked at this one, to determine the depth of the wound more than anything.]

Nasty little thing, aren't you?

[He hummed and set it aside, then reached back over his shoulder and gingerly set a fingernail into the wound, frowning as he did. This wasn't pleasant. It never had been. If he needed to stitch it, it would be even less so. He hoped it wouldn't have to come down to that.]

Not much to do but tolerate me, I suppose. [He manages, leaning over the bed to slip his shoes back on, following him into the bathroom in case he needs an extra set of hands. Of course, he absolutely is going to continue to trouble himself. He cares about Undertaker's well-being.

He stands in the doorway for the moment, turning his face away when Undertaker just pulls the glass from his shoulder, reminding himself he's seen worse. He wanted his brother get stabbed, shot a man, saw Grell impale his aunt or Undertaker impale his butler. There were worse images in his memory.

And then he glances back, nearly gagging at the sight of his nail in the wound.]

Is it alright?

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OPEN | Dreamscapes

ONE

TWO

THREE

FOUR

FIVE

SIX

SEVEN

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