a dream is a wish your heart makes ( raphael | ada )

[looting]

[ When Raphael stirs, the last thing he remembers is a distant, haunting melody. There are still so many questions... like why the reconstruction, and why do they have to be asleep for it? For how long? He remembers the ten-minute warning, and resisting the lull of sleep--wondering when or if he'd ever wake up, if he gave in. There's no way any of this could mean something good for them, but hey... a guy could dream.

He doesn't stay still for long, though. The morning sun beams on his face, which makes him regret opening his eyes, but nonetheless, he sits up, surrounded in a garden of flowers.

...

He rubs at his eyes. They must be playing tricks on him--and it's about then that he spots his hat a short distance away from where his head had been resting. Running a hand through his hair, he realizes that it really is his; so he reaches for it before a gust of wind kicks up to blow it away.

--Wow.

He clicks his tongue, but wears an amused expression as he goes after it--because of all the mundane things he could have woken up to, this had to be one of the most domestic and uneventful.

...Not that he can complain. He doesn't even realize where he is. It must be some magical place, where a missing hat is the worst of his problems.

Vaguely, he wonders if he's dead; but he intends to find out soon enough. ]

Comments

[occute]

[ she gives a stout nod in response. His words definitely comfort her to a degree. Being alone would be much worse than being with someone else - and Raphael ranks highly among people she'd prefer to be stuck with. They'd suffered through those tunnels together before - a sunny field seems like it can't be worse than that.

She hopes not, anyways. ]

Mm... I don't think so, either. It's probably a trap... [ she frowns, nervous. The pessimism is uncharacteristic for her, but even Ada Vessalius has had to face the facts here in Haven by now. ] They've done things like this before. We need to be careful...

[ her eyes linger on him for a moment more, then she glances behind herself, where she came from. ]

I... I don't think there's anything that way, so...

[looting]

[ She doesn't have to tell him twice. He's always careful, no matter what anyone who truly knows him says...! That is, he's not. At all. Nevertheless, he gives a shrug and takes a deep breath. ]

Let's hope you're right.

[ ...As they walk further, it becomes clear that it really is Haven, but... ]

I hardly recognize this place.

[occute]

[ despite the gentle surroundings, she stays close to his side as they walk. Everything seemed like it was there to put them at ease - and that's almost exactly why she doesn't trust it. As they continue - and familiar buildings become recognizable - the sinking feeling in her stomach grows. ]

It... is Haven, isn't it? This couldn't be what they were talking about.

[ it's too cozy. They'd never let the people of Haven rest easy like this. As they walk, she looks for signs of the red poppies or the other dangerous plants that used to grow in the garden, but she doesn't see them. Things just look vaguely overgrown - like the city had been left here for a while, almost. ]

But why...?

[looting]

Hmm.

[Raphael scratches at the back of his head. It's a good question, even though he doesn't know the answer to it. Eventually his hand wanders down to the scar he still feels around his neck, to this day...]

A change of heart, maybe?

[Doubt it.]

Not that it explains why the place is deserted, exactly. I wonder if the others are still in storage...

[occute]

[ the thought is repugnant to her, and she shakes her head faintly, brow creasing with worry. ]

T-that can't be. Why would it just be us...? [ she says in a small voice, uncertain. ] Unless... this really is a test, and they're splitting us up...

[ in which case, she'll be glad she was paired with one of her friends - at least until they make them turn against each other, or whatever awful thing Yao is no doubt planning.

While there aren't exactly any other people milling about, there are, oddly, signs of life in the place - lights on in some buildings, despite the absence of people. Flowers cultivated in windowsills. The faint buzz of a radio on somewhere. ]