Event | Landfall | Dreaming

[ironwood]

Characters: Any and every!
Date: August 10th - 31, 2013
Location: The realm of Dreaming as accessed via Sinbrilee
Situation: Dreaming is but one of the three realms and here characters are subject to their fanciful thoughts.
Warnings/Rating: Please place content warnings in subject headers!

Sinbrilee | Dreaming | Death

Life. Dreaming. Death. Three realms overlaid upon one another and yet each distinctly their own. They dwell in Life and do so live upon the back of the great turtle as those of Sinbrilee did upon the shell of his sister. However, there stand numerous arches of marble throughout the ruined city that are inlaid with runes beyond understanding. Those that live and breathe which step through those whose runes glow with faint, iridescent light tread instead into the realm of Dreaming.

Here, there exists no single defining characteristic beyond the visitor's imagination. The landscape sculpts to their individual thoughts, the events to their dreams. From a drab gray nothing to the most brilliant of displays, the senses perceive all that they wish to perceive for all that nothing here truly exists. This far from Tu Vishan, the ability to shape their surroundings is all they have, for Sinbrilee's Dreaming does not have the energy to sustain powers, only the bodies of those that dwell here.

Should two parties near, then the Mesh begins. Dreams, you see, not only can be shared, but they strive to be. These visions sculpted into reality reach out for one another and blend. They begin an exchange akin to a linking of the minds, within which one visitor can learn the other's deepest thoughts. Their limitation is but compatibility, for two minds that cannot flow upon the same current cannot hold the Mesh.

Happiness or loss, the landscape and events play out memories and fancies with a most convincing air. The mood rises and falls with the tide of the visitor's mind, detached as they are from the soothing influence of a great turtle's mind. Nothing here, however, is real; 'constructs' simply fade if taken through the archways and even the greatest scientific minds or tools will reveal nothing of its source. This is an ancient magic of an ancient realm, long practised in concealing itself from any prying.

Note: Due to the fluid and highly individual nature of Dreaming, no official subheaders will be provided in the comments of this post. Feel free to post and thread however you like, so long as the rules of Dreaming are adhered to.

Comments

[imaginate]

'Yep,' he replies, cheerfully. He doesn't understand it himself, but some things are meant to be mysteries. After being Ion, he knows it firsthand. There's things no one should ever experience.

In answer to the question, he points to a ridge nearby, and treks over to it, sticking the staff in the sand where, surprisingly - it holds. They're overlooking a large plateau, with huts (three thousand six hundred of them, if anyone's counting) and a large, green structure in the middle. Sharp spires, reaching upwards. A burning light at the top, illuminating the ground below. There are no people. Only stillness, and silence, and the sound of their breathing in the night air.

[demon_brat]

Damian nods, as his statement is confirmed. That feels... pleasant.

Then he walks alongside the Lantern and stands beside beside, taking in the sight.

It is...

Calm. Serene. Raw and austere, and, at the same time, merciful with the absence of people, demands, expectations.

Failures.

He doesn't answer, only looks on ahead. Slowly, the tension from his time with the ring eases away, the purse of his lips softens.

After a long time, he finally moves, giving a small nod.

"Peace." And the knowledge that peace here means at least some measure of safety for those behind them. And rest. Just rest.

[imaginate]

'In a good way, I hope.'

He pulls down the hood, and sits. He's not Kyle, or a Lantern, he's Ion, with burning white eyes, deep green gloves, and the rest of him matches the starry sky. Power thrums off him, like it belongs there with every movement of his body. His in a way nobody could alter.

With a flick of his wrist, a small flame leaps off and races towards the centre, and the flame burns just a bit brighter before returning to its original intensity.

'Stay as long as you want.'

[demon_brat]

Ah.

But the guess that this is not only Kyle is still different from seeing the reality, and Damian tenses at the sight of those white eyes.

He's quiet for a long moment, focused on the figure in front of him, rather than the sight around them.

"Tell me he is well. Rayner."

They are separate, after all. And this... this has priority.

[imaginate]

They're indeed separate, but in a less clear sense than either Kyle or the entity would admit to being. When two have been one for such a long time, the lines blur.

'He is safe,' says Ion, quietly, fixing Damian with a soft expression. 'When he is with me, here. Out there, I wasn't so successful.'

The glow fades and it's Kyle's eyes looking at the boy. 'It's me. See?'

[demon_brat]

Damian tenses. Safe is not the only thing he asked after, and he purses his lips, ready to point that out (even if the admission to failure mollifies him, some), but then Kyle is there, and the boy does relax.

Almost smiles, even, before he cants his head.

"Joint decisions?"

That's important, after all. The difference between possession and potentially being all right with the state of things.

[imaginate]

'We are one. Nothing can be done if one half doesn't wish it.'

He blinks, and Ion is back, looking up at the stars. 'This is how he sees himself. Together, as me, when we guard what's ours.'

A pause, and its grip on the staff tightens.

'Not a problem, is it?'

I like being with him. I want to stay.

[demon_brat]

Damian nods, slightly, at Kyle's comment. The reassurance. They will talk about that, later.

For now, he'll take it as Kyle-Ion is talking about it. Together... at least right now. A part of him knows that Kyle is sharing the place of peace with him, (Ion doesn't know him the way Kyle does, even if Damian's a part of Ion, too) and he doesn't want to break it for him. He can. But he wills not to.

To the question, he just answers, firmly, "you know what would be a problem." Forcing Kyle into doing what he wouldn't do. What another being did to him, after he'd let it in. "If you go there, I will find a way to stop you."

It's not even said as a threat. Possibly because it is, in fact, a promise.

[imaginate]

'Peace, child,' it says, voice rumbling. 'I expect nothing less, of a sentinel.'

Then, it sits, cross-legged, hums quietly, inviting Damian to sit with it.

[demon_brat]

">Tt.< "

Damian does stop arguing, but he doesn't sit down - instead making a small circle around Ion, taking in more of the sights that this place that he's never likely to see awake shows him now.

Only after he's made his point - that he makes his own choices - does he settle beside Ion. As close to being in control of the situation... as anyone can be, by this being. But he's valiant in demonstrating it.

[imaginate]

The hooded figure hmms quietly. While its eyes appear to be trained on the empty houses in front of them, Damian will never quite escape the sensation of being watched, intently. This is still its own home.

They sit, and wait. Night turns to day, and day into night. A few sparks fly from the lantern, and the figure gets up to relight it, before returning to its seat. Finally, after a long watch, it speaks again.

'Are you comfortable?'

[demon_brat]

If he wasn't at least somewhat aware that he was dreaming, Damian would, by now, be demanding to leave, to be taken out to what needs to be done.

But time has different rules, in a dream.

And, for all that this is Ion, he has ascertained that it is Rayner, too. Him, Damian trusts. He would not keep him away from something important.

If for no other reason than because he wouldn't be able to stay away, himself.

So, at least physically, he lets himself relax, even as his mind tries not to spin itself in circles.

By the time the day returns, he's managed to find some peace within. Of sorts, at least. He looks up at the question, his head cocked to one side, curiously.

"Sufficiently. Are you?"