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Who; Ino & you
What; Nightmares.
Where; In ur dreams ;)
When; Anytime between October 5-8
Rating; Generally PG-13, may progress to R depending on which route you take

[Nightmares are never fun, no matter where you go. But things take a bit of a turn for the worse when you've jumped into the mind of a ninja. A ninja that can look into other people's heads, to be exact.

So which path will you pick?]

HIDAN | KAKUZU | BAD END | ALONE | SOMETHING ELSE?

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[Maybe you're a fighter and maybe you're not, but the fact is that most of the people you know probably are, and most of them went off to fight against a terrifying enemy that promised to bring death and destruction to your homeland. And they most certainly have, if the bodies strewn across the open fields have anything to say with it. Some are long dead, others aren't quite there yet, but it feels a lot like you failed to save any of them.]

[Oh God.

Oh, God.

This is...this is too much. A field silent save for the moans of the dying, and Jane was far too weak to help anyone. There's no way some patching up will help those who still hang on, and there was no way she could have stopped the devastation, even if she had fought. Even if she could fight. How useless.]

Guh-

[She falls to her knees and vomits into the grass.]

[Somewhere amidst the bodies, there is one that is still alive -- though just barely, if all the blood splattered all over her and the massive wound in her side is any indication. The vomiting catches her attention, and she'll croak out:]

... Jane?

[She hears you as she pauses to catch her breath, and her head shoots up.]

H-Hello...? [Rising on wobbly legs, she looks for the source of the sound.] Who's...where are you?!

[She can't really move, but she'll try to speak again]

Here. [Hopefully Jane can follow the sound of her voice]

[Was it...there! She hurries over-

...Oh, NO...]

Ino! Oh my God!!!

[Don't be sick again don't be sick again, keep it together Jane! She's groping for her skirt and trying to rip the hem off. That's what they do for bandages in Jake's movies, right? Rip up clothes?]

What happened?!

[You're gonna need a whole lot of hem to bandage up that gaping hole in her side, Jane. She just coughs a little, blood dripping from her mouth]

Don't bother. [She'll pause] The enemy ...

[Oh fuck it, this thing isn't tearing. She's going to press some of it into your side.] Whoever did this is long gone by now, just - hold on, alright?

[She looks around. Isn't there anyone else around who could help??]

[Not a soul, Jane. Anyone else around that's still alive is in no shape to be helping anyone but themselves]

Jane ... stop. [She closes her eyes, squeezing them, trying to keep the tears in] Just listen. You can't -- you can't go back there ...

Go back where?! [She presses harder.] I'm not leaving you here like this! If anything, I'd be taking you with me...

To the castle. You'll be -- [she cuts off, coughing harder now]

[How would they even go back? Jane doesn't know. Her hand shakes as she presses as hard as she can. If only there was something she could do...]

T-Try not to strain yourself, please!!

[it takes her a moment to regain what strength she has left to finish her sentence]

It's not safe there.

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cyan_maid - 2012-10-06 23:35 (UTC) - Expand

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ino - 2012-10-07 00:07 (UTC) - Expand

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cyan_maid - 2012-10-07 00:20 (UTC) - Expand

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ino - 2012-10-07 00:47 (UTC) - Expand

[It's completely nonsensical, disjointed and unrealistic, but the dream swallows him whole and he can't seem to notice or care.

His impassive, objective shell has shattered. It's all ragged, raw emotion now; mostly anger, but there are threads underneath it, loss and grief and failure so acute it makes him ill.

(Everything for nothing.)]

There you are, you've had your noble stand. For what? For this?

[He's shouting at nothing, twisting in place, nearly feral in his movements. It hardly matters now whether he keeps his sanity or lets it fray around the edges. He laughs, a painful sound.]

Brilliant. Well done, the lot of you.

[Unfortunately, the sound of his voice simply echoes. There is no one left to answer him.

No one except maybe the young, blonde girl laying right near his feet. She doesn't know him -- not well enough to recognize him in this state, anyways -- but someone alive and well is always someone to reach for when you're dying. To pass on your message, to let them know what you died for.

Unfortunately, the wound in her side is gaping, and it keeps her from doing much other than coughing harshly]

[He is nothing if not (terribly, painfully) hyper-aware, even in his scattered state of mind. Movement, sound, anything in this place is like a beacon for his starved attention.

He latches onto it, and crouches next to her, staring. (He is not a doctor.) His eyes scan her face and her wound, unrefined information-gathering. (John is a doctor.) There's nothing he can do.

(John is also a soldier.)

Anger swells, claws at the back of his throat. He doesn't even know her, doesn't have a reason to care, but how dare she still be alive when she's just going to die, too.

He doesn't say anything, just leans forward to put pressure on her wound. It's stupid and pointless, his mind screams, but his hands don't seem to have gotten the message.]

[She, too, is a doctor -- which means she knew already that it was hopeless. She reaches up, weakly, to touch his arm, looking at him. She can't speak, but the look in her eyes says it all: Don't bother. There's no point.]

[He glares at her.]

Shut up. I don't need you to tell me that.

[But still, he doesn't let up. If anything, he presses more firmly.]

[She just coughs pitifully in response, blood dribbling down her chin now. She grasps his arm tighter, now, and tilts her head in the opposite direction, indicating for him to look that way.

If he does look, he'll see that there is still an enemy on the battlefield. Someone in a dark cloak with red clouds, who has just ran through an opponent that dared to challenge him.]

Run ...

[He scowls at her hand, then his eyes flicker from it to her face to the expanse of field in the direction she indicated.

He watches that enemy, watches that person fall, and the anger in his expression drains, makes way for something more like resignation.

He shrugs, as much as he can with his hands braced over her sides, and looks back down into her face.]

What for?

[Her eyes widen, looking at him like he's crazy. If he has a chance to survive, why wouldn't he take it? She very clearly doesn't understand, pleading with a look for him to go and save himself]

You want me to run. For the sake of argument, let's say I'm successful. What then?

[He doesn't lift his head to check on their enemy. This conversation doesn't work unless he can read her expression, and at this point he can't find it in himself to care.]

Wasting away until it's time to run again. Sounds tedious, honestly.

[Then you live for a little bit longer, Sherlock! Duh!!

She just continues to look baffled. If you had the chance to live a little longer, why not take it?]

[He quirks one eyebrow.]

Not much different from what you've done, is it?

[She shakes her head carefully, flexing the fingers in the hand not gripping his sleeve. When her palm is opened, it reveals a kunai. She's a fighter, Sherlock, and you aren't]

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workaphilic - 2012-10-10 05:25 (UTC) - Expand

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