Voices from Heaven (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thespaceopera) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
driftfleet2015-10-20 11:18 am
thespaceopera) wrote in driftfleet2015-10-20 11:18 am
Entry tags:
- !event,
- ahsoka tano,
- coil lenn,
- margaret "peggy" carter,
- nami,
- natasha romanoff,
- nelkeila tarid,
- nyssa al ghul,
- octavia blake,
- one,
- phèdre nó delaunay de montrève,
- r. daneel olivaw,
- rapunzel,
- remy lebeau,
- riku,
- robin redbreast,
- rogue,
- santanico pandemonium,
- shawn hunter,
- sokka,
- stefan salvatore,
- steve rogers (ou),
- steven quartz universe,
- stiles stilinski,
- syeira,
- tadashi hamada,
- tekhetsio,
- the vision,
- vash the stampede,
- vima sunrider,
- wanda maximoff,
- wrath,
- yamanaka ino
...And also these.
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Wait, was that funny?
[Calm down, Shawn, it's not like she succeeded in attacking him... He takes a deep breath, focusing on the photos now. Maybe there'll be a nice one to look at here.]
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[The pictures on the wall range from a family, a mom and dad with their son and daughter smiling at the camera. What's perhaps disconcerting about this picture is that the mom and dad's faces appear to be scratched out. Another picture is of a young man with gray-white hair stemming from dark brown roots. He is looking at something not pictured, off to the right of the frame. He looks concerned, determined to do something about whatever he is looking at. A third picture is of some sort of scepter with a bladed end holding a blue, swirling gem in place. The fourth picture is actually a newspaper clipping, a picture of six figures, each one clad in a uniform of some kind. The fifth and final picture is of a cityscape. The buildings looking somewhat debilitated, but there is a certain warm feeling of "home" to it.]
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In the end, he decides against it, instead focusing on the picture of the young man. Shawn can get that determination, and well - he kind of admires that spirit, so he reaches out to touch it.]
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[People start to fade into existence around you, they are all running, sprinting towards something to your left. Their faces and features are blurred, but it's somehow clear that they are running in a state of panic. Turning to your left, you see large aircraft with an open tops, boarding ramps open and ready to accept these fleeing specters. Something tells you that these are rescue ships; in fact, a strange sense of joy and hope pass over you for a moment. But then, a new figure crosses right in front of you. This one's features are clear, easy to see. He is a brown haired man, with his trimmed close to his head in a sort of military cut. His uniform is unique, but it seems to be archery-related in theme. The glove on his arm, and the empty quiver on his back serving as further proof of this. The name "Hawkeye" swims in your mind.]
[The man run towards a small child, a boy lying trapped in the rubble. He's able to pull the boy to safety, scooping him up in his arms. He turns, begins to carry him back towards the ships. However, he stops in his tracks when he hears the whirling sound of helicopter blades, and the unmistakable revving of a machine gun warming up. Sure enough, the aircraft appears, swooping in on the man and child. The gun starts firing, carving a path towards them. The man's face is grim, accepting the fate that inevitably seems to be barreling towards him. He turns his back to the aircraft, attempting to shield the boy with his body. But then, just before the hail of bullets reaches him, a silver blur streaks past, and suddenly the man and child are gone.]
[In their place is the silver-haired young man from the picture. Bullet holes in his torso where the shots ripped straight through him. He stands, shudders, makes eye contact with the man and boy he saved, now kneeling safely behind a car slightly to your right. He says something to the man, but you can't make it out. The silver-haired one falls to the ground, dead.]
[Before you can even move or react to this scene, you hear a scream pierce right through you. You turn around, trying to locate the source of that agonized cry behind you. Instead, a wave of scarlet, blood-red energy washes over you. Everything goes black.]
[You are back in the prison cell now. Everything as it previously was, except now the little girl in the corner is now studying you with a curious expression. She doesn't speak, only stares.]
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Shawn's heart beats faster and faster as he watches everything around him - the city was evacuating? The city was in danger, and that guy was just about to leave on one of those rescue ships when he... he...
As he returns to the prison cell, he staggers back, landing on his butt and trying to take deep, steadying breaths. This was someone else's memory. Someone who clearly loved this young man with all of her heart and--
He forces himself to get up, dusting himself off as he turns back to the girl in the corner.]
I'm sorry. [He stares down at his shoes.] I'm sorry, I shouldn't have brought that up.
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[After a moment, Shawn will notice that one of her small wooden blocks has floated over to him and is levitating in place before his face. It spins slowly, looking safe to touch. There is a faint, yet discernibly sympathetic smile on the girl's face.]
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Thank you.
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If she's really that interested in it, Shawn figures he should at least be polite and bring it over to her.]
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[There's a man, or rather a robot. Eyes glowing red, yet you sense no hostility from this figure. A deep, throaty laughter comes out of his mouth. In a weird way, there is something almost charismatic about him. Like something is drawing you to him, to want to trust him. But then suddenly, anger and rage, he is yelling, screaming something unintelligible.]
[A new vision, a gigantic slab of Earth falling through the sky. A city, carved out of the very ground it is now crashing down towards. Your perspective moves outward. The city hits the ground, a cataclysmic explosion shockwaves out across the entire planet's surface. You don't have to get a close look to know that whatever life was on that planet has been thoroughly extinguished.]
[The robot appears back before you again, his eyes clear with malice now. What had once been a sense of loyalty, even admiration, is now replaced with a sensation of fear and righteous fury. You know this robotic man is responsible for the sight you just witnessed. Responsible for ripping an entire city out of the ground, only to drop it back down, wiping out all life on that planet. So many innocents, their lives taken in an instant.]
[Then, a new image. This time you are getting a bird's eye view of street riddled with turned over cars, bits of earth and debris scattered about as well. In the middle a single body, lying on the street. You are able to tell it's a boy with silver hair and brown roots. His eyes are cold, looking off in the distance. The bullet holes in his torso tell you he's dead. A sensation of deep loss overcomes you. You don't know who this dead young man is, but you know that this sight cuts you to your core.]
[The robotic figure appears before you once more. This time, he is lying in the wreckage of a cable car. Clearly injured, and moving only but a little. You approach him. A deep, burning anger in your chest. There is nothing else but the fury, all of your hatred, directed at this figure... this monster. He is responsible for the silver-haired boy's death, and you want revenge. He turns to look at you, unable to lift himself up or defend himself. He says something to you, but the words barely register. You feel your mouth open, you respond to whatever he just said; however, you cannot make out even your own words. Instead, your arm extends out, it is wrapped in glowing, etheric scarlet colored energy. The robot man writhes in pain, agony. His chest pops open, being ripped open from the inside. Something flies out of his chest, landing squarely in your outstretched palm. You look at casually, before turning back to the now dying robot.]
It felt like that...
[The words come out of your mouth, but they don't feel like yours. However, the vision quickly fades out, and you find yourself back in the prison cell.]