And the Boats Drift On [Open to All]

[applesaucemod]

The water is calm, and the night sky is filled with stars. The only light is natural: a patchy, bioluminescent glow coming from the water below, and the bright swath of the Milky Way above. It's not much, but it's more than enough to see by.

The dreamers will find themselves sitting in their own little rowboats, each stocked with two oars, a length of rope, some cushions, and a little picnic basket full of snacks. There is no visible shoreline, but it won't take the dreamers long to realize theirs are not the only boats in this shallow sea. Anything stirring in the water, be it fish or paddle, causes phosphorescent plankton to glow a bright blue, so there isn't really anywhere to hide.

Feel free to paddle around and visit the other dreamers, perhaps tying your boats together and sharing your snacks in an impromptu picnic. Or you could go for a swim - the bioluminescence makes it difficult to see the bottom, but it's not too terribly deep, so the risk of drowning is all but nonexistent. This setting, unlike the last one, isn't actively out to kill you. Or you could simply lie back and look at the stars.



[ooc: Same drill as always, folks. All are welcome, regardless of whether or not your character is in the game. Characters may remember or forget dream shenanigans at the player's discretion.]

Comments

[theoldgirl]

Oh heavens no. The list of things she would tolerate happening to her while sitting in a small boat is prohibitively small, and Zagreus is nowhere close to being on it. And he has the nerve to not even let her retreat; one moment she feels his noxious presence spike against her awareness and the next he's almost bumping into the stern of her boat.

She twists around in her seat and immediately regrets it, bristling wildly both at him and the sudden swaying of this useless vessel. "Get lost--" she hisses but then trails off, surprised to see a strange mark on his face. It's not like him to look different unless made to, even in a dream, and the thing doesn't even seem entirely his, somehow. She narrows her eyes to stare at it with a kind of malicious curiosity reserved only for him. "What happened to you?"

[antitimelord]

She would pick up on it, naturally, wretched old heap. It's his turn to bristle, shoulders up in a hawkish defensive display. He ought to have remembered, tried to erase it, but now it's too late, she'd notice that too. Assuming he could manage it in the first place; something tells him that might not be the case, for all his powers over the dreaming. "Someone made a mistake." He glares, daring her to comment further on something that clearly doesn't concern her. "What were you looking for?" Because she had been looking, scanning for something, he could tell.

[theoldgirl]

Well isn't that interesting. It must be a weakness, to make him feel so on edge so easily, and that means a new way of defending herself. Which she is going to need, as he helpfully reminds her by trying to dig at her own despair. Her expression tightens, though she tries not to let her defensiveness show. "Nothing I'm going to tell you."

Rather than give him a chance to pry further, she tilts her head in consideration. "A mistake you can't undo? That ought to be a familiar task for you." Rassilon would be so disappointed. "Was it Gabriel?" He's the first one she can think of who could hurt Zagreus in any lasting way.

[antitimelord]

No, of course she won't tell him, but it's good to check how much of a vulnerability it is. He thinks he perhaps hasn't been keeping an eye on her as much as he ought to have been lately, very regrettable. For instance, there definitely seems to be something very much the matter, and although he has a suspicion, he should have a certainty. For a nonperson her poker face has never been the best, but her line of inquiry distracts him immediately.

"Gabriel? No, no," he laughs incredulously. Her gibe he ignores completely; that hasn't been his purview in a crow's age. "I haven't yet tried to undo it. It's of no consequence. Not my mistake."

[theoldgirl]

Even she can see what a liar he's being. As though she's going to believe that it's of no consequence, after all that glaring and hunching. And if it wasn't Gabriel, then there's someone else here who can hurt him, which is helpful information indeed.

She carefully shifts a little more to better eye the scar, even leans forward a bit. Normally she would just strive to get away as fast as possible, but if there's something to gain from this, she might as well be contrary. Better to examine his distress than her own, anyway.

"Then whose? It doesn't look easily undone." It almost seems woven into his presence, not very deeply, but deep enough to be permanent, perhaps. "In fact, it looks as though it would remain even if you changed shape." She might just be baiting him to try, with her faintly mocking tone.

[antitimelord]

It wouldn't be like her to lie, though it's also quite shocking to hear her volunteer information that he can find helpful, even clearly meant to aggravate as it is. Against his better judgment he touches the mark again, scar tissue invested with ink, a permanent fixture of his dreaming self now? He frowns grievously at the thought, waves off her question irritably. It's not a bad suggestion though, however mockingly she'd meant it, and the idea of taking chimera form floats to the top of his mind, only to likewise be waved away. For one thing, he'd probably swamp the boat. And he certainly doesn't need the TARDIS to play mirror, what an atrocity of an idea.

"It was Johnny's mistake," he says, bright tone doing nothing to hide how aggravating it is to be scrutinised. "But don't rough him up for it too much, his account's settled up." And that's that. "Why not tell me? When have I ever been less than helpful."

[theoldgirl]

It's satisfying to see her remarks having an effect on him, but she doesn't get to enjoy it for long, completely taken aback by his answer. She almost thinks he's trying to lie again, but why would he blame Johnny, of all people, if it wasn't true? Inevitably she feels anger and protectiveness rising in her, replacing her surprised frown with a glare.

She wants to know what he did to the boy this time, what exactly to hate him for now, but before she can ask as much she realizes that it won't help Johnny anymore. Whatever happened, happened, and he is probably safely awake by now, if further traumatized. What she can do is to find out more about this strange injury.

His absurd question is easily ignored, and her glare punctuated with an incredulously raised eyebrow, though the mocking air has left her for good. "And how could the boy possibly have inflicted any lasting damage on you?"