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)
driftfleet2019-01-20 07:25 pm
thespaceopera) wrote in driftfleet2019-01-20 07:25 pm
Entry tags:
- !event,
- !mingle,
- adrian "alucard" tepes,
- baku,
- bentley "ben" douglass,
- ciel phantomhive,
- connor,
- felix gaeta,
- glenn rhee,
- grievous,
- haggar,
- james tiberius kirk (au),
- kaname buccaneer,
- katherine "kitty" pryde,
- keith,
- krolia,
- lance,
- libra,
- loki,
- lorden gesh,
- lup,
- magnus burnsides,
- manji,
- messer ihlefeld,
- mikleo,
- nico di angelo,
- pavel chekov,
- prompto argentum,
- remy lebeau,
- sorey,
- taako,
- the vision,
- thor odinson,
- tyrion lannister,
- vash the stampede,
- veronica,
- victor frankenstein,
- wanda maximoff
dreams in digital
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(last updated: 1/21/19)
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Great!
[ She pretty much beams as she takes it from him. She doesn't even need to look at the list of ingredients, she knows this one like the back of her hand - forwards, backwards, and upside down! Absolutely a no-brainer. She sets it down, grabs everything she needs off of the shelves behind her: water, two types of medicinal herbs, and a strikingly green liquid. She tosses all of them into the cauldron, gives it a stir...
... There's a flash of light, and once it subsides, Libra is in... a completely different atelier. There's still a cauldron, but it's set in the middle of what looks like a tiny house. There aren't may other objects in here - definitely nowhere near as many supplies, books, or honestly much of anything useful. But a 12/13-year-old Escha is still standing at the cauldron, stirring away - with nowhere near the confidence she had in the original room.
The cauldron isn't warm enough. Libra just knows this - as dream states are wont to have people know things - and he's probably also aware that she's stirring too fast, her rushed movements causing breaks in the thick liquid that's attempting to form. Escha frowns when she finally notices it too, and she looks near tears. She lets go of the handle she's using to stir, turns to try and turn up the gas for the fire beneath the cauldron, but it's too little too late. When she turns back to the cauldron, her entire concoction is a mess, like a broken sauce that's impossible to recover.
Her arms drop to her side in defeat, and she hangs her head... and then the tears start. She takes a few seconds to sniffle and cry, rubbing at her eyes with the huge pink sleeves of her shirt. But once she's let all of that out, She straightens her posture, gives a firm nod to absolutely no one (but herself), and grabs the cauldron with both hands to tip it over and let the contents drain. Time to try again.
"I'll do this." Her voice cracks a little from the tears she'd just cut short. But her determination shines through anyway. "I can do this. I promise, mom. I'll keep trying."
... And with another flash of light, everything is back as it was before! Escha uses a wooden paddle to scoop out a measure of healing salve from the cauldron and portions it into a simple-looking white container. It looks perfect, made from top-quality ingredients and imbued with some of the best healing properties she could pull from the materials. She smiles brightly as she sets it down on the table near him. ]
We did it! That was perfect - thank you so much for helping! [ She beams at him, completely unaware of what just happened. ]
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I'm happy to help, Miss...?
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Oh! I didn't even introduce myself before roping you into work... I'm sorry! Um, my name is Escha. What's yours?
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[ The topmost cards are now:
→ Healing Salve - M (cw: grieving / mention of parental death)
→ Bomb
→ Airship Part - Automatic Drive
→ Neutralizer - Red
→ Goddess's Shield
Or, if anything else in the room catches your eye instead, those are all still options! ]
no subject
no subject
[ She tosses everything in - some silvery clay, a bright green gem, a blue teardrop-shaped gem, and a small bundle of golden threads - and gives it a stir...
... There's a flash of light, and the scene shifts again, but not very much this time. It's still inside the atelier, everything is still where it was before, but there's a silver-haired boy standing in front of the couch. Escha is standing in front of him, tears beginning to form in the corners of her eyes as she listens to him beating himself up about an incident in his past - about how he has no right to continue research... her heart breaks for him. This isn't the Logy she knows. She pulls him into a tight hug, and fusses at him and tells him what-for while he... tries to figure out why she's the one crying and not him! (She's not crying!! *sniffle!*)
As they smile at each other, and everything seems to have calmed back down, the memory ends. Libra's standing where he was before, and Escha's holding a six-sided metal shield roughly as long as her forearm. It glows with an innate magical quality, though it's almost imperceptible if you're not looking for it. ]
Here it is! All done.