johnny_truant: (numb)
Johnny Truant ([personal profile] johnny_truant) wrote in [community profile] applesaucedream2015-07-26 10:40 am

they say you're getting better, but you don't feel any better [closed]

He dreams more and more of the house, more like the days before the rift when it haunted him almost every night and he stopped knowing the difference between sleep and hallucination. Sometimes he doesn't know they're dreams; often he does, and he knows there's help to be summoned if he wants it, but he doesn't want it. He deserves this. It's drawing him in, growing larger and larger at the back of his head, fed by too much probing and rearranging, fed by his own unwillingness to escape.

Tonight he knows. He stands in a massive, almost decadent foyer, never what Zampanò described, this would never be the house that Will Navidson and Karen Green moved their children into, but it doesn't matter, because the house can look like whatever it wants.

He stands for a moment, noting the stairways and the halls feeding into other rooms, and the various choices of doors. Just stands and observes, calmly, impassively, like he's memorizing it for something.

He has to pick a direction. He has to go somewhere.

His body tilts gently and pivots him to his left, toward the door that should be a coat closet, and he knows is not.

He opens it and steps through, letting himself cross into the belly of the beast, the true house interior, where everything is dark and ashen and quiet and cold. He moves forward, dread weighing him down heavily but not enough to pull him back, afraid but not enough to run. He moves like he's in a trance, like he has no choice (and he doesn't). The house is pulling him in, like it always does, it wants so heavily, so hungrily, and for whatever fucking reason it wants him.

He walks into the darkening, narrowing passage until he finds stairs, and then he descends.
endless_epithumia: (due consideration)

[personal profile] endless_epithumia 2015-07-27 07:37 pm (UTC)(link)
This world has been for the most part so dull that Desire prefers to spend most of their time in this strange approximation of the Dreaming. It's much more comfortable here, they can create a facsimile of their Threshold to live in, and lie low until they can discern what this dimension-entity wants with them.

They're aware that their body is sleeping somewhere, and it's a minor annoyance that they are, apparently, required to have a physical form here, but for the most part watching the dreams of mortals has been enough of a distraction that they haven't worried too much about it.

But this, now, this is something they haven't encountered before. Some sort of presence, familiar and foreign at the same time. Desire is roused from their idleness; they need to explore this thing. They wander through the arterial corridors of their illusion-home, feeling out the presence and letting their own dream mingle with this other one. The scenery shifts, and Desire finds themself standing in their gallery, or some poor excuse for it. They frown in distaste as they see the row of portraits: the frames are full of buzzing static where their siblings should be, the plinths empty of sigils, as if to illustrate just how very alone they are here. Desire shudders.

They turn away and catch sight of a hole in the wall where there would not be, not if this was their actual residence. They are certain it didn't exist a moment ago. And there is no sign of where it might lead, because there is nothing but darkness, but Desire approaches it anyway because that strange presence is stronger here, this is what they've been looking for. They stand in the doorway and peer inside, noting the way the walls seem to absorb the light coming from Desire's dream. Oh this is interesting. They reach through and give the wall a light stroke, exploratory, and smile at the coolness, the hush of expectation.

"Well hello," they say with a smile, and cross over into the darkness. "Aren't you lovely."
endless_epithumia: (vanity)

hijinks ensue

[personal profile] endless_epithumia 2015-07-28 02:53 am (UTC)(link)
It appears the entity has resolved itself into a more compact form, judging by the figure who steps out of the welcoming dark. Desire smiles, still fondling the wall. They suppose it is rather convenient to have this sort of shape, or perhaps the dimension has trapped this presence in the same way, tied them to existing in a limited humanoid fashion. This shape doesn't give Desire terribly many clues about its nature, other than it is vaguely male and not outwardly hostile and reasonably pleasing to the eye.

"Hello," they say with a smile. "I might ask you the same thing." They will be friendly; they still can't get a read on what it is, but it feels close enough to something they can converse with, if not one of their own kind. It would be better in this prison to have a compatriot than an enemy.
endless_epithumia: (smoking | vice)

[personal profile] endless_epithumia 2015-07-29 06:18 am (UTC)(link)
What a curious thing, this Johnny. He certainly doesn't conduct himself in a manner befitting his scale, if Desire is in any way correct in their assessment of this place. It could go on forever, and the thought makes their heart pang a little.

They sidle closer to him, and tilt their head just a bit; it's confusing, they cannot yet discern enough of his nature, though they can sense his attraction, sharp and superficial. How odd. A more direct approach is required, perhaps: they reach out and stroke his hand and even in this dream state they can tell how concentrated he is, physical and finite and not at all the vast cold thing they were expecting.

"Oh," they say softly, the tiniest bit bewildered, "but you're a...human being."
endless_epithumia: (due consideration)

[personal profile] endless_epithumia 2015-07-29 06:37 am (UTC)(link)
They smirk, amused at his suggestion. "Oh no, certainly not." And that's all the answer he'll get from them, he doesn't need to know any more.

"You say this is your dream," they continue, intrigued by this mortal all the same, "but this place, it's more than that, surely. How is it that you can be so human and yet this is a part of you?" Because that other, deeper consciousness is still there, Desire is aware of it, somehow attached to this small and meek creature. He's more interesting than any of the other humans they've observed, of that they're certain.
endless_epithumia: (Default)


[personal profile] endless_epithumia 2015-08-01 06:30 am (UTC)(link)
Oh isn't that darling, he's playing pretend. Desire smirks a little at him, but keeps their tone gentle, not accusing.

"I've more experience with dreams than you might expect, and it's not terribly difficult to tell that you are...conjoined with this one, as it were. It has the weight of history behind it, it's palpable." They punctuate their statement with a squeeze to Johnny's hand. This little mystery feels like a present, one that they'll take their time unwrapping.
endless_epithumia: (you're mine)

[personal profile] endless_epithumia 2015-08-03 07:39 pm (UTC)(link)
They expected some measure of aggression, but this is not territorial as Desire would have thought. He's afraid, and isn't that interesting. They keep hold of his hand easily, running their thumb over the soft ridges of bone and tendon. However vast this presence may be, Johnny is but a human, small and fragile, and easy enough for Desire to overpower. He will be their point of ingress.

"I'm only curious," they murmur, leaning into him. "You can tell me, I assure you I'll understand."
endless_epithumia: (you want dis)

[personal profile] endless_epithumia 2015-08-07 01:12 am (UTC)(link)
Johnny has no way of knowing how wrong that assertion is, but Desire smiles all the same. He'll learn soon enough.
"Not for me?" they echo, with a tilt of the head. "Is that so."

They lean in until they make contact, brushing their chest up against him, one hand on the (pleasantly cold) wall beside Johnny's head, the other still gripping his hand. "Well," the murmur, their lips ghosting over his neck. "What about you, then?"