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rakuen2013-01-29 08:21 pm
utopiamods) wrote in rakuen2013-01-29 08:21 pm
And so it ends
After the final two Players fall, they are whisked away to the grey room where they too can give a message, a memory, whatever they wish. Then the room shifts, sending its inhabitants into the soft light of a small hill overlooking Rakuen City.
They feel no more solid here, but the world around them is more real, the light warmer. The people of the city stand around them, all eyes turned towards the city that hums with the voices of the hillside. Looking around they can see the other members of the schools, lost friends and half-remembered faces. They are faint, like ghosts or imprints, but they are there and there may be time for a meaningful glance or a word, some brief statement of hope or understanding.
Because the feeling of freedom hasn't disappeared; it will be alright. This is for the best. The same vague certainty they felt when trying to remember agreeing to coming here. They might have not completely succeeded... but they left their mark. They made things better. Next time, thanks to them, things will be easier.
It is with that overwhelming sense of peace that they could let go now. Everything would turn out okay, in the end, even if they weren't there to see i. The noise gets louder and the world begins to brighten until characters can see nothing but a blaze of white that spreads into their thoughts and memories. Rakuen disappears into the light.
★★★★
Dawn came, and the sun rose over Rakuen. It was a crisp, cool day and high time for the city to wake. The schools lay silent and empty, of course, but the town had lives to live. Laughter and good-natured grumbling came from houses as children woke their parents, friends called up to windows, shopkeepers began to set up for the day. At the pet shop, the owner's son opened up the shutters as his younger brother set off with the dogs, his white hair blowing into his face in the wind.
Down the same street, red-haired twins ran out of a house with satchels in one hand and apples in the other. Shouting their goodbyes as they set off to their early morning martial arts club. Waving to a pair of boys, also twins, on their way to their favourite cafe.
A blue-haired child ran out of another house, waving goodbye to two women in the window. More children spilled out of doors; some of them didn't even seem human, sporting horns or wings or fangs. But no one seemed to mind, sometimes children were born with strange features. It just happened.
A young policeman winced as a tabby cat dug his claws into his leg, laughed and tried to disentangle it as a tall woman teased him.
More shops opened; a young chef batted at a dark-haired waiter who was trying to snaffle a free breakfast. An older white-haired man came in to place an order and seemed unimpressed with the third member of staff, who seemed to believe he can be waiter and cook all in one, and half the time eats the food instead of giving it to customers.
Back on the street another shorter brown-haired policeman hurried to the defense of his cat-bait coworker, though they sobered quickly as their chief passed; he wasn't much older than them, but any townsperson will tell you how passionate he is about his job and the law. The first young man, now sans cat, hurried on his way, stopping to talk to the man who worked in the flower shop.
The electronics shop near the bakery announced its opening with its usual obnoxious music; the seller, rarely seen without shades, stood behind the counter lazily. The young street performer nearby shot the shop a glare but then grinned and continued to juggle badly. A blond man stopped in his hurry to get to work to pick up one of the dropped juggling balls and throw it at the performer.
The sweet-shop opened a little later than usual, the woman who owned it grinning as she handed out free samples to the children passing on the way to kindergarten.
By the lake there stood a blue-haired man, come to get away from the hustle and bustle of town, looking out onto the lake. In him there was a deep, thoughtful silence, just as through the entire town, under the bustle and noise, was silence. A waiting. A low hum that no one could hear. Not unless you stood apart from the buildings, turned towards the centre, and listened.
One day, the train would arrive.
They feel no more solid here, but the world around them is more real, the light warmer. The people of the city stand around them, all eyes turned towards the city that hums with the voices of the hillside. Looking around they can see the other members of the schools, lost friends and half-remembered faces. They are faint, like ghosts or imprints, but they are there and there may be time for a meaningful glance or a word, some brief statement of hope or understanding.
Because the feeling of freedom hasn't disappeared; it will be alright. This is for the best. The same vague certainty they felt when trying to remember agreeing to coming here. They might have not completely succeeded... but they left their mark. They made things better. Next time, thanks to them, things will be easier.
It is with that overwhelming sense of peace that they could let go now. Everything would turn out okay, in the end, even if they weren't there to see i. The noise gets louder and the world begins to brighten until characters can see nothing but a blaze of white that spreads into their thoughts and memories. Rakuen disappears into the light.
Dawn came, and the sun rose over Rakuen. It was a crisp, cool day and high time for the city to wake. The schools lay silent and empty, of course, but the town had lives to live. Laughter and good-natured grumbling came from houses as children woke their parents, friends called up to windows, shopkeepers began to set up for the day. At the pet shop, the owner's son opened up the shutters as his younger brother set off with the dogs, his white hair blowing into his face in the wind.
Down the same street, red-haired twins ran out of a house with satchels in one hand and apples in the other. Shouting their goodbyes as they set off to their early morning martial arts club. Waving to a pair of boys, also twins, on their way to their favourite cafe.
A blue-haired child ran out of another house, waving goodbye to two women in the window. More children spilled out of doors; some of them didn't even seem human, sporting horns or wings or fangs. But no one seemed to mind, sometimes children were born with strange features. It just happened.
A young policeman winced as a tabby cat dug his claws into his leg, laughed and tried to disentangle it as a tall woman teased him.
More shops opened; a young chef batted at a dark-haired waiter who was trying to snaffle a free breakfast. An older white-haired man came in to place an order and seemed unimpressed with the third member of staff, who seemed to believe he can be waiter and cook all in one, and half the time eats the food instead of giving it to customers.
Back on the street another shorter brown-haired policeman hurried to the defense of his cat-bait coworker, though they sobered quickly as their chief passed; he wasn't much older than them, but any townsperson will tell you how passionate he is about his job and the law. The first young man, now sans cat, hurried on his way, stopping to talk to the man who worked in the flower shop.
The electronics shop near the bakery announced its opening with its usual obnoxious music; the seller, rarely seen without shades, stood behind the counter lazily. The young street performer nearby shot the shop a glare but then grinned and continued to juggle badly. A blond man stopped in his hurry to get to work to pick up one of the dropped juggling balls and throw it at the performer.
The sweet-shop opened a little later than usual, the woman who owned it grinning as she handed out free samples to the children passing on the way to kindergarten.
By the lake there stood a blue-haired man, come to get away from the hustle and bustle of town, looking out onto the lake. In him there was a deep, thoughtful silence, just as through the entire town, under the bustle and noise, was silence. A waiting. A low hum that no one could hear. Not unless you stood apart from the buildings, turned towards the centre, and listened.
One day, the train would arrive.