Just something small. I don't own anything here except the words coming from my head, I am not that good. Sigh.


Falling Dreams-

A white line glistened in the sky, telling Dio nothing except that the race was almost over and that there was no one ahead of him. It glittered to him, flipping and twirling amongst the fury of the Grand Stream.

Their vanship was lighter than Immelman's, giving them the lead that they needed to win.

The nose of Dio's vanship broke through the glittering line, scattering it like a thousand rainbirds on the wing. It all felt so familiar, he had the strongest sensation of déjà vu, except it all seemed wrong as well. Almost like the events passed had happened differently. The feeling nibbled at his mind for a few seconds before being pushed back by a flood of emotions for the moment.

Dio turned in his seat, letting his helmet fold back into his collar. He wanted to see by how much he had beaten Immelman, but mostly he wanted to share in the glory of their victory with his only true friend.

Luciola wasn't there, the navi's seat sat empty. The feelings of wrongness intensified, the strangeness from earlier just being compounded by the fact that his constant had disappeared.

In apparent disbelief Dio called out Luciola's name, thinking in a desperate attempt at hope, that maybe his normally stoic companion was hiding, ducked down where he could not be seen. When there was no immediate response Dio climbed out of his seat trying no to think that his blithe comment about jumping out had been taken seriously. He pulled himself onto the smooth metal of the vanship, the blurry glass in front of the navi's seat stretching away from his reaching fingers. He fought the wind to stay clinging to the slick surface, it seemed the Grand Stream did not want him to find out what had become of his friend, instead wishing him to stay in the clutches of a dream that wasn't quite right.

Still adhering to the thin glimmer that Luciola was hiding from him, Dio managed to stretch the last mile to curl his fingers of the top of the windshield. Winds exceeding 120 knots slammed into him from all sides, not just pulling at him, but tearing. His silver hair whipping into his face, stinging his exposed cheeks, forehead and eyes, Dio didn't care, the sight of the empty pit had numbed him.

In a state of shock Dio's fingers loosened, allowing a particularly strong gust to yank him from his perch. In a reaction that was involuntary but far to slow to be effective, Dio grabbed at the smooth metal and was taken by the winds without much resistance.

In his dream, Dio was falling now, it wasn't a normal falling dream like he had experienced before. Normally, if he fell in a dream there wasn't the sensation of turmoil, there weren't the knifing winds that tried to tear him to pieces, split skin from bone. Most of all, Luciola wouldn't have been gone. He'd have been falling next to his friend. When Dio dreamed of falling, he was really flying through an endless sky, finally escaping from the being that stalked him in his nightmares and waking life the same.

It felt real, but Dio knew that he had to be locked within the confines of a new nightmare. He and Luciola were inseparable. Once Dio was convinced that he was dreaming it was easier to separate himself from the terrible feelings being imposed upon him in the dream. He was able to think his situation through with a sort of detachment that was similar to the time he observed the bodies of that starfish pilot. Interesting, but not something to worry over.

He wasn't given the time to ponder over this new sort of dream he was experiencing before the mighty winds of the Grand Stream swallowed him in their fury.