[back dated: dream virus]
Jul. 1st, 2009 12:23 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
masked_godThe video opens into the middle of a dream, seen from the perspective of one of the characters. His (for Karakael is the viewer in this memoried dream) eyes are focused on a young woman, one who seems to be painted all in white - white hair, pale skin - the only color coming from the pinkish cloak thrown over her shoulders. She is speaking passionately to a large audience, but her words seem blurred, indecipherable. They instead bring to mind images, seen splashed in the background, of burning planets, pain and suffering, children fighting for unnecessary wars.
The faces of the children may seem familiar, to those who have met Karakaels childsoldiers.
The view quickly scans the audience, focusing on faces - two young men, their eyes filled with hatred for the other and brimming with an almost tangible power, a glance at an empty space that flickers with a figure who should have been there but died long before, an old woman face sad and lonely colored by memory into blue. And finally an elderly man, holding himself strong, his eyes kind, nodding slightly at the girls words. The view focuses closer on his face then spins back to the speaker. The image blurs as if the view is holding back tears.
Then the image clears, as if the viewer gained a new resolve. A hand raises, and shout can be heard. The words, just as those spoken by the girl, are warped by time, barely remembered. But the meaning is clear, as are the shocked expressions of the audience.
What is it like, watching oneself burn? A final glance at friends and companions, as flickering rainbow colors take over, and the vision darkens. The last images those of others bursting into flame as well, first the old man, image overlayed with that of what he was when he was young - Elloran. Then the others, ending as the lights dim with the white haired girl, tears turning into flames as they trickle down her face, smiling as she sees her end.
The faces of the children may seem familiar, to those who have met Karakaels childsoldiers.
The view quickly scans the audience, focusing on faces - two young men, their eyes filled with hatred for the other and brimming with an almost tangible power, a glance at an empty space that flickers with a figure who should have been there but died long before, an old woman face sad and lonely colored by memory into blue. And finally an elderly man, holding himself strong, his eyes kind, nodding slightly at the girls words. The view focuses closer on his face then spins back to the speaker. The image blurs as if the view is holding back tears.
Then the image clears, as if the viewer gained a new resolve. A hand raises, and shout can be heard. The words, just as those spoken by the girl, are warped by time, barely remembered. But the meaning is clear, as are the shocked expressions of the audience.
What is it like, watching oneself burn? A final glance at friends and companions, as flickering rainbow colors take over, and the vision darkens. The last images those of others bursting into flame as well, first the old man, image overlayed with that of what he was when he was young - Elloran. Then the others, ending as the lights dim with the white haired girl, tears turning into flames as they trickle down her face, smiling as she sees her end.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
[video post] : aftermath
Date: 2009-07-01 04:56 pm (UTC)As his breathing dies down he slumps, placing his head in his hands.
"Not again..."
The shaking has not stopped, and he leans over farther, muffling sobs, whispering barely heard names.
"Sirriss."
"Elloran."
The video cuts out as he buries his head in his hands and breaks.