だけどそれは夢で

maki sonomura, affiliated with arietta.

[megaten]

I have this headache that won’t go away

[satanaelesque-blog]

Once you get past the empty faces and the background noise, it’s just like any other city. After running around in the woods for days, wouldn’t you find reprieve in a place like this? Running water, working electricity, stalls to purchase anything you’d need…

It’s just a matter of rounding the block at the right time in the right way. Otherwise that arcade you’ve been looking forward to might just become a restaurant.

Akira’s used to it by now. He’s lost track of how many times he’s come to this place. It’s his – he can feel it in his bones – but others are due to gather.

He turns to his companion, someone with a face to remember, and asks her calmly, “Do you think we’re really here?”

@compactprism

[compactprism]

his voice is clear and crisp, cutting through the buzzing cacophony of the city ongoings. she tenses and looks up, her widened eyes darting about his face. 

“i ... i’m not sure. it feels real, but ...” her voice trails off, and she looks out into the crowd of people filing past. their faces blur and meld - unlike his - leaving nothing distinct to hold onto. 

“aren’t illusions meant to feel real?” 

at that, a gurgle erupts from her stomach. her hands fly to her gut as heat rises to her cheeks, and she drops her head to stare at the ground.

[compactprism]

iii. (LOL) & viii.

iii. Why did you decide to join Arietta?

JOKER

well!! i can at least say that i helped create arietta because i wanted my friends to have a comfortable space for rp! i didn’t really expect it to grow beyond that, but i’m so thankful that it has, and that it’s given me the opportunity to make new friends! it might sound cliche, but this community never would’ve grown the way it has if it wasn’t for everyone involved. arietta isn’t just my brainchild, but everyone else’s, too. 

viii. Is your muse prone to nightmares? How would you incorporate this at Arietta? 

maki struggles with guilt and self-hatred, and has many nightmares concerning her past mistakes. the evergreens is a delicate place, and any negativity permeates into the surroundings. she may find herself fracturing the overall tranquility of the dreamworld, creating a more volatile and dangerous environment. she may even twist herself; it wouldn’t be the first time she’s taken a nightmarish form. 

[compactprism]

ᴀʀɪᴇᴛᴛᴀ ᴀsᴋ ᴍᴇᴍᴇ

i. Can you name someone else's glade that you really like?

ii. What was the process behind creating your muse's glade?

iii. Why did you decide to join Arietta?

iv. What's your favorite aspect about the group?

v. Name another muse you've considered bringing to Arietta!

vi. Can you name a relationship dynamic between your muse and another's you like?

vii. Is there someone you want your muse to meet?

viii. Is your muse prone to nightmares? How would you incorporate this at Arietta?

ix. [ reblog with your own questions! ]

[princelytunes]

Visit Original Link

galileo galilei doudemoii

[compactprism]

felicitaes:

                    the garden of eve, she calls it — a heavenly place some distance away from her own paradisal haven. it’s the one glimmer of her mind that hasn’t been completely enveloped by her darker persona & she’s trying her hardest to make sure it doesn’t. it has only been existence for a short time  (  when exactly, she can’t say for sure — but she’s thankful for the reprieve nonetheless.  )  but she knows of no other place - save for the arms of one - that would grant her such comfort. perhaps it’s the last representation of rika’s happiness & well-being; then shall this place, as well, be destroyed by her own hands  ?

                    her thoughts are interrupted by a wind rushing past her face, a gentle caress across her cheek. green eyes open slowly to an ever-beautiful forest, sunlight peeking through the leaves of trees & the softest scents of flowers surrounding her. it takes a moment, rika simply soaking in the experience, before her lips gently smile. ah, she supposes, if this world is doomed to tragedy, then she may as well enjoy it as it lasts. she rises from her resting position on the grass, brushing off blades  (  both physical & mental  )  from her body. it’s only now that she acknowledges the woman standing some ways away; the words leave her lips before she could even control them.  ❛  …it seems my dream is over.  ❜  it’s quiet at first, rika speaking to no one in particular, before turning her attention to the stranger. her voice grows louder, but nevertheless soft.  ❛  may i ask who you are  ?  i don’t receive many visitors here.  ❜  // @compactprism

“o-oh, i’m sorry,” she says, taking a tentative step back. she had never meant to intrude upon someone else, she had only been searching for answers to her ever growing questions--what this place was, why she was here, why others were here. she had brought her sketchbook as well, as she had not expected to find the answers quite so quickly. when she stumbled upon the little garden, the girl had appeared asleep, and maki had no intention of waking her. but her eyes had fluttered open all the same, and she sat staring at her, expectant. 

“i--i’m maki, but please don’t let me interrupt,” she bows her head, clutching her sketchbook to her chest as if it were protecting her. she makes a move to leave, turning away. 

[saintemia-deactivated20170513]

//; a ruined show.

[compactprism]

saintemia:

          i’m sorry.

lips part with the softest utterance, a barely audible sigh amid the still vibrant noises around them. something strikes at her chest with its hearing but her composure regains and remains unmoved once more, fingers lacing in their own grasp as she shakes her head in disagreement to the first question asked. 

          “ you didn’t. we weren’t exactly friends. ”

a laugh leaves her in the guise of a huff, nails grazing against the skin of her palm as she pauses — searching for an answer to something that she is still uncertain of. the bits of a home lost to her in later years is raising doubt in a heart more confident than this; another weakness to be rid of, she notes.

          “ i don’t know if i am, but being lost matters little to me. ”

her honesty comes with a bluntness she almost deems unnecessary, and she grows quiet. her attention shifting to the sun before a blink allows her focus to glance back onto stark white.

          “ were you sketching something? ”

a blush rises to her cheeks, and she smiles meekly when the girl laughs. it was, indeed, a silly thing to say. she admonishes herself for speaking without thinking first. 

her next answer surprises her. she has an oddly poetic manner of speaking, and maki struggles to think of an answer before the girl speaks yet again.

“were you sketching something?”

the question startles her, and she is suddenly reminded of the book she carries with her. that’s right, she came out to draw, to find something to distract herself with.

“oh, um, well, i was going to--”

she brings the sketchbook forward, but her fumbling fingers betray her. it slips out of her grasp and lands with a thunk upon the dirt, open like a story about to be read. the forest seems to take interest in this, as suddenly the wind picks up, scattering about the loose pages in a whirl of white. 

her mouth is open, unable to comprehend what had happened in just a few seconds time. then she starts snatching, furiously grabbing at the papers from the air where they float and twirl as if suspended in space. some show sketches of flowers and animals, while others show dark smudges and crosses, strange colors and shapes; yet another shows the profile of a boy with a pierced ear.

“i-i’m sorry, i didn’t mean--i’m not sure what’s going on,” she stutters out, gripping the pages close to her chest to keep the wind from taking them again. some still insist on freedom, and seem to be pulled from her grasp, entering the air again with gusto.  

[supportagonist]

one thing left

[supportagonist]

His smile remains, even when her eyes fill with tears, but his eyes soften as he looks down at her.

“It’s okay, we all knew it wasn’t you. Even Brown, and he’s so far up his own a- You know what, nevermind. I’m just-”  his voice is steady. He’s spent so long suppressing his own emotions that the wellspring of happiness and intense sadness feels like a butterfly trapped inside a box of ice in his rib cage.

“I’m happy to see you. I’m glad you’re okay. The last time I saw you, you were-”

“A monster. A piece of a angry goddess of chaos that twisted and writhed and lashed out at all the people who loved you”

“You weren’t yourself and you were trying to convince us you were. So, it was a little weird.”

He places a hand on his neck and finally looks away. He can’t say the next thing he has to say while looking at her.

“You’ve got nothing to be sorry for. We- I, wasn’t a very good friend. You were alone for two long with only Mark for company. He must have driven you fucking crazy.”

[compactprism]

“i don’t ... deserve that,” she looks away from him, staring down at knees scraped and muddied in the dirt. her fingers dig into the stem of the flower she held, breaking it in two.

she had hurt him, intentionally; had put him and the people she loved through unfathomable horrors. she could not ask for forgiveness, and had never expected it.

so why was he saying she had nothing to apologize for?

she takes a deep, shaking breath, trying desperately to keep the flow of tears at bay. her hands, still clutching the flower, lift to wipe away the wetness on her face. she takes another unsteady breath. pauses. she does not look at him, keeping her eyes only on the wilted bloom that lay within her grasp.

“what if i ... what if i did this too? what if i trapped us all here again?”

her fingers tighten around the flower. 

“would you forgive me then?”

[saintemia-deactivated20170513]

//; a ruined show.

          “ ah. ”

it’s loud.

her surroundings look familiar, but they shouldn’t be. the months had blurred together in a mix of regret and joy, yet here she was: outside of her once home hearing the usual drowning of heated noises that often slipped as much as laughter did. the wooden entrance to the brothel allowed a forgotten ache to thrum inside her chest, fingers curling as they gripped at the ends of her sleeves. she remembers too much all at once — the screams, the second carriage, the warm splatter of blood across tear-stained cheeks. eyes instinctively shut in a poor attempt to block out the memories but flutter open to a sea of greens and browns. her hand raises to hide her face from the sun, but her vision adjusts as quickly as she adapts.

          “ it… wasn’t real. ”

her voice is a whisper despite the silence that crept in with the change, lips turning in the faintest of frowns at the momentary loss. but the silence disappears in the wake of chirping, her gaze following the noise as best as her ears allowed the direction to be perceived. she waits, assuming the quiet would take its place again, but her features soften as the singing continues. she rarely allows her curiosity to lead her places, but the forest she finds herself in is not one her memory shows any signs of recollecting. it feels unending as she makes her way through, fallen leaves crunching beneath her steps as she shortens the distance between her and the would-be songstress. its source is something yellow and black, and not the dove she was expecting. she’s careful to not alarm it, hand stretching outwards once it was within her grasp…

snap.

a blotch of yellow feathers dance downward with the bird’s fleeing, her head turning towards the interruption with a glare that barely showed beneath the cover of her hood. she sees white in the hands of a just as lost girl and she straightens herself out, a glance given to where the bird was before returning to the other before her. her throat untangles itself from the potential raspiness her voice would’ve let slip but it, as usual, comes out far more silvery than her liking.

          “ were you watching her? ”

[compactprism]

the forest offers her a respite she could not have imagined. she still does not know where she is, or how she arrived, but she accepts it as a gift. anything would be, in comparison to a hospital bed.

she finds the sketchbook in the strange room that feels familiar, and she decides to bring it with her as she searches for answers. in this place, her hands do not shake and her vision does not spin and blur. another gift.

when the song reaches her ears, she knows it is not far away. she follows the trilling, because she has nothing else to follow.  she takes a step through the brush and—

the glare meets her eyes first, before she sees a glimpse of fallen feathers. a girl stands before her, hooded, looking as if she had stepped out of a fairy tale.

were you watching her?

maki does not understand at first, and only blinks. when she realizes the girl was talking of the bird, she quickly clears her throat and stutters:

“i...i’m sorry. no, i was only...i didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“are you, um, are you lost too?”

[supportagonist]

one thing left

@compactprism

He finds her, fittingly enough, sitting in the middle of a clearing in the forest filled with flowers. The clearing, for one reason or another lacks the bright and vibrant sun of the rest of the forest and has a softer overcast glow.

It suits her. 

He’s not really surprised to see her but he is surprised to see this version of her. Her hair lacks the healthy shine in her hair, the rosy pink blush and the light muscle tone in her arms. The Maki he looks at is sickly and pale, her eyes marked by a portrait of dark circles.

 But, he wouldn’t trade this Maki for the other one. Never.

He walks to stand behind her as quietly as he can, letting her get lost in the sights of the tall grass and blooms. Picking a small purple one with velvety petals and a delicate stem, he tucks it behind her ear.

“Long time no see.”

[compactprism]

it was a sanctuary before he came.

no, that was wrong. there was nothing that could give her peace. it was merely a distraction, a diversion from what lay within herself. the ache remained, but its presence had been subdued.

until he touched her, gently.

she startles, her eyes widening at the sound of his voice. first in surprise, then in panic. it’s him, it’s him - but how? she knew this world was not of her own making, though it felt similar.

she whips around to confirm her fears, and as she looks up into his face, her eyes well with tears.

“i’m...i’m sorry,” her voice breaks as she speaks. “i’m so sorry, naoya.”

[nicht-alles-gold]

I’ve been thinking about Persona (1) a lot for some reason. Maybe it’s secret P5 hype manifesting itself? I’m gonna turn into a shadow and be like, rarr, I don’t even want to play P5!!

[pavaal]

we are made of our smallest thoughts

[supportagonist]

♟

Patching up a wound 

Memories of helping Maki limp to the infirmary when an attempt at landing a kick ended in bloody knees, of her shaking making it too hard to hold a pencil and writing notes for her and of when her eyes clouded over in the middle of lunch and she had to be lead by the hand to the faculty office filter in and out Naoya’s thoughts.

The arm gently wrapped around his waist and propping him up is the same arm that belonged to the girl from those memories; just as fragile now as she was then, but the atmosphere around her has completely changed. 

A firey determination in a young woman pushes two sets of wobbly legs into her temporary housing, pushes him down in a creaky wicker chair with a faded floral print and returns to her half-dazed and bloody companion with cotton balls and a bottle of…..something Naoya’s hazy mind can’t put a name too.

Maki’s hands soak the cotton balls in the liquid with practiced ease and reach out to dab at his wounds-

“Ah, sh– gAH. What the f-”

The pain is unbearable and he can barely hold back a torrent of swear words as she mops up his blood soaked face.

“- inal fantasy…..”

He can hear her starting to giggle and as his vision clears he thinks he can see the outlines of a smile on her face. 

“I’m glad one of us is having fun because I -Ouch! ….I am not.”

[yvonnegabena-deactivated2015041]

✿ܓ

Send me “✿ܓ” in an ask and I will give you a compliment!

“Honestly… It looks like I could eat you up. Distant and fragile but yet possess such a strong aura. You remind me a lot of my childhood friend, X.

However there is something about you that X lacks dearly, and that is beauty! You are adorable, I love your sense of style… Can I braid your hair? 

[compactprism]

✿ܓ

“ahh, your clothes are very cute! i wish i could pull off such stylish things.” 

[compactprism]

Begonia, goldenrod, pansy.

begonia - what do you find yourself thinking about the most?

she glances away.

“i… i suppose i’ve had a lot of things on my mind lately. i hope… everything is okay, back home.”

goldenrod - do you find yourself more often giving encouragement or receiving it?

“ahh, i’m very… very lucky to have friends who have always been kind and supportive of me. i couldn’t hope to offer anything close to what they have given, but i try.” 

pansy - do you find yourself randomly thinking about someone special?

“someone… special?”

her eyes widen, a blush rising to her cheeks.

“i… um, i don’t… i mean, no, there’s not… anyone like that, no.”

[saravalt]

    ❝That’s the purpose of the safe zone. Anyone is free to live within it and be protected. Kagerou is capable of offering financial support and housing, he already has proven this with the orphanage he runs. He is trying to offer at least one sector in which no one has to sleep with one eye open and all that believe in his cause will be accepted with open arms. We’d love to have you, honestly .. !❞

[compactprism]

“i... that’s very kind of you, thank you. but i... i couldn’t. i’m sure there are people who need it more than i do.”