oo33 [ voice ]
Feb. 7th, 2011 12:00 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
affronter[ Xion's always had this thing for dreaming. Although, back home, it was memories... memories and meanings she couldn't understand. Dreams of the ocean and the sound of waves, dreams of a boy in red...
Her dreams are so often memories. After all, what is she but memories? Just a doll, made to live off of the memories of a boy like some kind of parasite. But now she has memories all her own... so many of them. And she dreams about those, too.
They aren't always good dreams. Sometimes they are dark and full of blood.
It's a shame she fell asleep with her journal on the covers -- because when she wakes up, shooting up into a sitting position with a shout, the journal of course falls open and records her cry.
Nothing can be seen -- after all, the room is dark. But the sound of her panting breaths come through -- the only sound, for a moment, until she gathers herself enough to sigh. ]
Come on, Xion, get it together.
[ And she'd been having an easier time getting to sleep, too, after all the help everyone had given her...
Somewhat reflexively, she'll scoop up her journal as she gets out of bed, temporarily cutting off the feed. However, it's only a few moments later that the journal is reopened -- still in darkness, only barely leavened by the moonlight drifting in through the window. However, there is a new sound.
Xion is ... singing.
Bits and pieces, at a slower tempo, of a song that someone once played for her. Of course, there are no words, but her voice is actually ... kind of sweet, and soft, floating and tumbling between the notes. It goes like this for a few quiet moments, with some other soft sounds in the background as she gets some water.
And when she turns around, she will realize the journal did not stay upright where she set it, and fell open. Again. Of course. SIGH. Oh well. She'll move over to the table and sit, lightly tapping on the page that's been recording her. ]
... is anyone even awake at this hour? And I guess... well, if you heard me ... what's your favorite song?
(ooc; actually, pretty tired! gonna hit the hay. tags tomorrow! oh, and I'd imagine this whole thing went down... somewhere around 4 AM. ps her voice, with bonus ironic lyrics.)
Her dreams are so often memories. After all, what is she but memories? Just a doll, made to live off of the memories of a boy like some kind of parasite. But now she has memories all her own... so many of them. And she dreams about those, too.
They aren't always good dreams. Sometimes they are dark and full of blood.
It's a shame she fell asleep with her journal on the covers -- because when she wakes up, shooting up into a sitting position with a shout, the journal of course falls open and records her cry.
Nothing can be seen -- after all, the room is dark. But the sound of her panting breaths come through -- the only sound, for a moment, until she gathers herself enough to sigh. ]
Come on, Xion, get it together.
[ And she'd been having an easier time getting to sleep, too, after all the help everyone had given her...
Somewhat reflexively, she'll scoop up her journal as she gets out of bed, temporarily cutting off the feed. However, it's only a few moments later that the journal is reopened -- still in darkness, only barely leavened by the moonlight drifting in through the window. However, there is a new sound.
Xion is ... singing.
Bits and pieces, at a slower tempo, of a song that someone once played for her. Of course, there are no words, but her voice is actually ... kind of sweet, and soft, floating and tumbling between the notes. It goes like this for a few quiet moments, with some other soft sounds in the background as she gets some water.
And when she turns around, she will realize the journal did not stay upright where she set it, and fell open. Again. Of course. SIGH. Oh well. She'll move over to the table and sit, lightly tapping on the page that's been recording her. ]
... is anyone even awake at this hour? And I guess... well, if you heard me ... what's your favorite song?
(ooc; actually, pretty tired! gonna hit the hay. tags tomorrow! oh, and I'd imagine this whole thing went down... somewhere around 4 AM. ps her voice, with bonus ironic lyrics.)
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
[voice]
Date: 2011-02-08 01:18 am (UTC)...It-
[C-cough]
...I'm not sure of the title, but...I remember hearing it as a child.
The...um, th-the lyrics aren't as nice as the melody, though.
[voice]
Date: 2011-02-08 03:39 am (UTC)[voice]
Date: 2011-02-08 03:48 am (UTC)...Jennifer. It's just Jennifer.
...I-I don't think we've ever met, miss.
[voice]
Date: 2011-02-08 04:06 am (UTC)[voice]
Date: 2011-02-08 04:40 am (UTC)I would hear it playing on the phonograph.
[The details remain fuzzy. But Jennifer grasps hold of the few fuzzy memories she has of it, of twirling around in the washroom and letting her dress flare out around as she cooed the stanzas of the song to herself, dropping her voice to a hum for whatever words she couldn't remember.
There was just something so dreadfully adult and romantic about it.]
[voice]
Date: 2011-02-09 01:42 am (UTC)[voice]
Date: 2011-02-09 01:53 am (UTC)O-oh, I'm sorry....I didn't think-
...Um...it's just...
...Something that plays music.
[voice]
Date: 2011-02-09 02:09 am (UTC)[voice]
Date: 2011-02-09 02:14 am (UTC)...A little. A phonograph can only play gramophone records though...
[Oh, she probably doesn't know what that is either-]
Um...that's just something used to record music.
[voice]
Date: 2011-02-09 03:32 am (UTC)[voice]
Date: 2011-02-09 03:44 am (UTC)[voice]
Date: 2011-02-09 05:36 am (UTC)[voice]
Date: 2011-02-09 05:49 am (UTC)[voice]
Date: 2011-02-09 05:55 am (UTC)[voice]
Date: 2011-02-09 06:29 am (UTC)...Did you really not have anything like that, where you were from?
[Most people she had met had come from places far more advanced than her own home.]
[voice]
Date: 2011-02-09 11:02 pm (UTC)