Description:
Since the spring soccer season is over, there isn't any more practice. Since the grades have already been handed in, there's basically no homework to so much as think of. What's a student to do? Well there is practice but he physically wasn't feeling up to it since he ended up staying up late to catch a game on TV. Of course, research has shown that visualization exercises help almost as much as practice.
That is why Roberto Miura is reclined under a tree with his visor tipped so low that it's touching his nose. His head is using his soccer ball for a pillow and to the outside world he's snoring loudly. To him, he's playing the game of his life in a world cup.
The crowd screams and roars, chanting Roberto's name in a thousand different accents and sixteen different languages as he makes that last run with ten seconds remaining. The crowd seethes palpably, threatening to break into a brutal riot with joy or horror depending on the outcome of this coming kick.
The goalie, a thin and lithe Thai man, has his arms spread, looking towards Roberto with determination. He shuffles to the left, then leans to the right in anticipation of the famous Long Shot...
He stops dead, leaning at an angle that no one could sustain without trick wires. The crowd, too, has fallen eerily silent. A look around reveals that the rest of the team has frozen, some of them half flung into the air by tackles.
There is also a purple-haired woman standing there, arms folded, perhaps fifteen yards away. She raises a hand and waves hello: she is the only thing moving in the entire stadium.
He blinks as everything comes to a dead halt... The soccer ball he was in the process of kicking? After traveling about two feet away, the soccer ball halts, likewise it's suspended in the air. He still realizes that he's dreaming and so he should be able to have some control over it? Not quite. He concentrates on the ball but it still remains stationary.
The ball forces him to acknowledge that he doesn't have as much control over his dream as he did before that purple haired woman showed up. He tips the visor as a greeting. Still he can't help but wear a confused look on his face.
Frida heads out into the village.
The woman steps closer. Rose may be recognizable, from hairstyle if nothing else, to Roberto. "This is a noble dream," she says, looking around. "It seems quite likely, too... nothing, of course, is certain, but..."
She's silent for a few more yards' worth of walking, coming within easy speaking distance of Roberto. "I see that you are playing against the Thai team, yes?" She gestures at the goalie suspended in time. "Why that team, in specific?"
"To be honest..." He falters for a moment as he attempts to put his thoughts into words. "To be completely honest, I didn't even consciously think about that. I just went into this dream to drill my moves." He step traps the suspended soccer ball back down to the ground and performs a couple stepovers and cuts as he steps closer.
"Of course, on the subconscious level..." He comes to a complete halt within a nice conversational distance with her "... It might be because of Vega's take over of Thailand. I've been hearing about it in the news and in school." Well that's the only logical explanation he can come up with. Of course though he has the sneaking suspicion that he'll be receiving an explanation that doesn't make as much sense to him.
The ball moves easily. Maybe the woman is letting it move, or maybe Roberto is simply closely connected to it, and all that she did was stop the flow of the main part of the dream itself.
"You're a very thoughtful young man," Rose says as she steps forwards, towards the goalie. She puts a finger to her chin, studying the wiry young man, and looks over towards Roberto again. "What do you think of that take over?" She then stands on the balls of her feet, seeming to count something - the number of Thai players on the field, most likely. She must not follow sports well enough to know a standard team's size.
Maybe it moves because the striker/goalie was constantly giving it physical nudges. Nevertheless, Roberto doesn't answer right away. There's actually a long pause that comes close to becoming awkward before he answers. "Before the coup, I didn't think of it much. I hadn't even /heard/ of Shadaloo before it happened. Now I can't help but wonder about the motivations behind it."
He looks at away from Rose, "I can't see what they have to gain by this or what makes them think they can get away with this type of thing." He looks down at the soccer ball. "I don't know much about the situation, but I know that something stinks about it."
Let's not get too hasty. Objects moving due to physical force can't be ruled out, though...
Rose folds her arms as she regards the goalie and is silent for a few moments. "What he seeks," she says, "is power; absolutely, and completely. This is not to say that he can acquire truly absolute power, as no such thing exists..." Her arms fold over her shoulders, before she looks over one back towards Roberto. "But his hunger for it - that is infinite."
She then lets her head tilt forwards. "Forgive me... I'm rambling. I have not even had the good manners to introduce myself." She turns, then, arms unfolding as she steps towards Roberto, offering one hand to him almost daintily. "I am Rose, and it is a pleasure to meet you, although I do wish it were under better circumstances."
His hand extends towards the fortune teller's with a slight smile his face. "I'm Roberto Miura but I'm sure that if you're here, you probably know that already." After he gives the hand a polite respectful shake he takes a half step backwards to look at the psychic. "Better circumstances? I don't quite understand what you mean by that though once again, if you're here, it would probably safe to assume that explanation would be forthcoming as well."
Rose accepts the hand and pumps it once. She smiles as she does so, although it's a rather tired smile. "You are a very bright young man!" she says, raising her fingertip afterwards and breathing in deeply. "Then... hm."
She looks out towards the assembled teams. "I need your aid," she says, as individual members of Roberto's team vanishes - not all of them, but a significant number. Perhaps a third. Rose's arms fold in front of her.
The Thai team starts vanishing as well, one by one. This takes longer, as Rose continues. "You may know that Vega is a threat - to peace, and to freedom, and to the safety of the world - but I suspect that you do not quite know the nature of that threat?"
"Aid, huh?" And then the team mates and opponents begin to disappear. As he watches this take place in his dream, he can't but wonder if this is a metaphor or some type of prophetic dream. He doesn't voice this question though it could be easily read from the expression on his face.
His hand runs through the portion of his hair, uncovered by the visor. "The nature? Hmmm..." A short pause as he draws in breath. "That would be an accurate assessment. And saying yes without knowing exactly what I'm getting into would be folly."
"I can give you a demonstration of the sort, if not the degree or precise nature, of his power," Rose says, tilting her head to the side. "However, this is more of a practical matter. You may be more interested in seeing the nature of the world he dreams of."
The Thailand team is now populated by a series of multi-ethnic girls with glassy eyes, blank expressions, and sporty vests, ties, and loose fighting pants. Their heads turn to regard Roberto, seemingly as one.
Rose is silent, otherwise.
Roberto looks at each of the girls one by one, taking in each girl one by one. As he looks over each one, he gets a cold sensation, worsening with each girl he looks at. It is not the individual creepy glass eyed expressions but rather in its uniform creepiness that seems add on to the disturbing factor exponentially.
There's another factor there that disturbs him. "So it will be a word of one gender?" Inwardly he doubts that scenario but with the images he's seeing right now, the question is still perfectly valid.
"No," Rose says, sweeping with one hand across the strange doll-like women. "It will be a world of one -person-. The only difference will be titles."
She turns to look at Roberto now, letting the 'dolls' revert back to the Thai team when no-one is looking. "It is fortunate," she continues, "because you are, I think, already in Southtown? You have heard of the young fighters' community center?"
Ok... Now this is alot for the soccer star to take in. And so he's a bit slow to respond. It's only after he regains his bearings and watches as the Thai team is restored that he speaks again. "I've heard about it from a friend of mine." He glances around at the area and then looks at the woman, "Why do you ask?"
"Because," Rose says with a faint smile, "I will meet you there, and answer all the questions that you might have. I would tell you more, now, but you will be waking up very soon now. I'm not quite sure why, but..."
She looks up towards the sky for a moment, even though there is nothing there, and then back to Roberto. "I hope to see you soon. Good luck!"
And then his eyes flutter and he looks up at a setting sun. And here he was trying to squeeze rest and practice in one act but even though he dozed off he feels like he got neither done. He would dismiss this as just an odd dream and to ignore everything that he just dreamt but it was just too strange to ignore. Instead he'll walk home and puzzle things out and try the YFCC asap.
Log created on 19:47:11 06/06/2007 by Rose, and last modified on 01:11:40 06/13/2007.