I don't own Zoids.
As Prozen awoke from his sleep, he faintly remembered his dream. The taste of blood on his lips made his body shiver, for he couldn't understand how it had settled there. He lay in bed wondering about life. His dream. There was so much light it was sickening! And who was that beautiful girl? He closed his eyes... and reality hit him hard. He sat up and stared out the window, into the blue sea. Freedom, something that he had only known painfully. Fighting was his life; well, what used to be his life. He wasn't even sure if he had one anymore.
So much pain, so much suffering... death everywhere...
"Huh? Who's there?" Prozen turned to his door to see nothing but air. He looked back to the window, and made nothing of the voice he had just heard.
Prozen piled the dishes high as he cleaned up the kitchen. Karl came downstairs just as Prozen washed the last plate.
"Morning," Karl said, with a tired look in his eyes.
"...Yeah... morning..." Prozen continued cleaning the kitchen, this time wiping the bench with a Scotch-Brite sponge.
Yeah! Scotch-Brite does wonders! Super clean, just the way you know I like it."
Karl walked over to Prozen and massaged his neck. Prozen shrugged Karl's hands off his shoulders and continued cleaning.
Karl, ignoring the clear "go away" signs from Prozen, said, "I had a really alluring dream about you last night."
Prozen grunted. He didn't want to hear about dreams. If he couldn't figure out his own, what use was someone else's?
Prozen turned around and met the emerald green eyes. So much power.
He glanced down, avoiding any more eye contact, and saw a shirtless chest and jeans. He was so handsome. His hair, the colour of gold, poked out from under his police-like hat. So irresistible...
"Karl,"
"Yeah?"
"Tell me your dream." Prozen walked over to the black leather couch. "Sit."
Karl sat with Prozen while the sun slowly crept through the windows, casting their shadows on the wall. "Well, we had finally worked up the courage to do... stuff, and ah... we'd just spent our first night together. I can't remember all of it but I do remember there was all this bright light and a girl stepped out of it. She had a sword in one hand and there was blood on it..."
That was the same girl from his dream! What was her name? Aka, no, Alimn, no, something like that. Even though he liked Karl, he felt a strong attraction for this girl as well.
I pity all those that dream without a fear...
That voice again! Who was it? Where was it coming from? He had to find out.
"Hey Prozen, are you listening to me?" Karl's eyes, hard but warm, burned into his.
"Karl, I'm sorry. I have to be alone."
"Why? Are you okay?"
"No." With that, Prozen stormed up to his room and locked the door behind him.
As Prozen awoke from his sleep, he faintly remembered his dream. The taste of blood on his lips made his body shiver, for he couldn't understand how it had settled there. He lay in bed wondering about life. His dream. There was so much light it was sickening! And who was that beautiful girl? He closed his eyes... and reality hit him hard. He sat up and stared out the window, into the blue sea. Freedom, something that he had only known painfully. Fighting was his life; well, what used to be his life. He wasn't even sure if he had one anymore.
So much pain, so much suffering... death everywhere...
"Huh? Who's there?" Prozen turned to his door to see nothing but air. He looked back to the window, and made nothing of the voice he had just heard.
Prozen piled the dishes high as he cleaned up the kitchen. Karl came downstairs just as Prozen washed the last plate.
"Morning," Karl said, with a tired look in his eyes.
"...Yeah... morning..." Prozen continued cleaning the kitchen, this time wiping the bench with a Scotch-Brite sponge.
Yeah! Scotch-Brite does wonders! Super clean, just the way you know I like it."
Karl walked over to Prozen and massaged his neck. Prozen shrugged Karl's hands off his shoulders and continued cleaning.
Karl, ignoring the clear "go away" signs from Prozen, said, "I had a really alluring dream about you last night."
Prozen grunted. He didn't want to hear about dreams. If he couldn't figure out his own, what use was someone else's?
Prozen turned around and met the emerald green eyes. So much power.
He glanced down, avoiding any more eye contact, and saw a shirtless chest and jeans. He was so handsome. His hair, the colour of gold, poked out from under his police-like hat. So irresistible...
"Karl,"
"Yeah?"
"Tell me your dream." Prozen walked over to the black leather couch. "Sit."
Karl sat with Prozen while the sun slowly crept through the windows, casting their shadows on the wall. "Well, we had finally worked up the courage to do... stuff, and ah... we'd just spent our first night together. I can't remember all of it but I do remember there was all this bright light and a girl stepped out of it. She had a sword in one hand and there was blood on it..."
That was the same girl from his dream! What was her name? Aka, no, Alimn, no, something like that. Even though he liked Karl, he felt a strong attraction for this girl as well.
I pity all those that dream without a fear...
That voice again! Who was it? Where was it coming from? He had to find out.
"Hey Prozen, are you listening to me?" Karl's eyes, hard but warm, burned into his.
"Karl, I'm sorry. I have to be alone."
"Why? Are you okay?"
"No." With that, Prozen stormed up to his room and locked the door behind him.