Halfway

[applesaucemod]

Tonight each dreamer of Manhattan will find out they're half the person they used to be.

No, really. Or at least, they're half the human[oid] they used to be. One way or another, each dreamer has been transformed into a hybrid creature from mythology. Fortunately, they find themselves at stunning fjord where those of the more aquatic persuasion can relax in the calm waters (unless, of course, the rift decides to beach them for fun) while others remain on dry ground (then again, who says a centaur can't swim?). There are trees in which bird-people can roost and warm rocks on which the cold-blooded can sun themselves, and the water of the fjord is cool, clear, and inviting. There's nothing man-made to be seen, no hint of civilization other than the dreamers themselves…and in this state, are they really so civilized?


[OOC: The usual dream party rules apply: all players and characters welcome, regardless of whether or not the character (or any character of yours) is in the game. Despite the wording, characters who did not start out looking human are welcome. Characters may remember or forget everything that happens in the Dreaming at players' discretion.]

Comments

[mr_fring]

Gus turns sharply and without his usual languid grace, and jerks back to see the head of a man on a wildcat's body.

"Oh, god," he sputters, backing away in mild horror. "What are you? What is this place?"

[omnomnom_feels]

That is not a typical reaction, and it takes Rashad longer than it should to remember his current form and understand what the problem is. He cocks his head at the lizardman, tail slowly twitching back and forth. "It is a dream," he says in a tone meant to be reassuring. "And I am usually a man. What is your name?"

[mr_fring]

Another dream. Gus is going to have to get better at recognizing these when they occur. It seems obvious now, of course, but only in the way of sudden lucidity during an ordinary dream, not quite the awareness others seem to have with these shared ones. He does not like people getting the jump on him.

"Gus," he says. "I am... usually a man as well." He peers at the creature, trying to picture the head on a human body, but he's fairly sure they haven't met. "You are?"

[omnomnom_feels]

"Rashad Durant." Gus did not give his full name, but that is no reason for Rashad not to give his entire pseudonym. He's puzzled by the other comment; beastfolk are hardly held up as the pinnacle of evolution but they are men and women. "Are you not now?" he asks, confused.

[mr_fring]

Is that a joke? Gus takes a moment to size him up, deciding eventually that it was probably not meant to be a joke, and if it was, it was not a very good one.

"I am a male creature at present," he says, making his displeasure clear. "I am human, ordinarily. Is that not what you meant?"

[omnomnom_feels]

Now that Rashad looks at him, there are details that are wrong. Too much lizard and not quite enough man...but had they passed in the street in his own world he would hardly have spared Gus a glance. "I'm a common man myself," he lies. It's about as true as saying he's an angel. "Forgive me -- you look very similar to some of the people back home. I meant nothing by it."

[mr_fring]

Common man. Gus snorts, continuing to be unimpressed by this odd sphinx-person. He shakes dust from his clothes, peering again at their picturesque surroundings. "What sort of place is it you come from?" he asks. Sounds like another bizarre fantasy/science-fiction sort of place. Gus wishes vaguely that there were more normal people for him to meet, but that does not seem to be his destiny.

[omnomnom_feels]

"An ordinary one, in my experience," replies Rashad, undeterred. "I take it your home has only humans for sapients, like this one."

[mr_fring]

Gus' frown tightens at what having been put in his place, more or less. It's a fair point, but he doesn't have to like it.

"Correct," he says. "This sort of thing is not so much within my experience." He flicks his eyes up and down Rashad's sphinx body. "How long have you been here, then?"

[omnomnom_feels]

It was simply a statement of fact, was it not?

"Perhaps a week," he replies, completely failing to show any bashfulness when he sees Gus looking him up and down.. "I must admit the dreams are quite new to me. Have you been here long?"

[mr_fring]

"Longer than that," says Gus, softening only slightly. "But not very long, compared to the others I've met. A month or so." He nods around himself, indicating the dream. "They take some getting used to. I am not used to them yet. Where I come from, dreams are a private affair."

He likes it better that way. But this is as good a place to meet someone as any, he supposes dryly, especially someone who doesn't flinch at his current appearance. "Have you found a place to stay?" he asks in a fairly impressive effort to sound conversational.

[omnomnom_feels]

"That is the same in my world," agrees Rashad, though of course there are people with the power to make dreams other than private. He finds it uncomfortable to keep looking up at Gus, but such is life as a quadruped. It is fortunate he is not one of the shorter races in his waking body.

He's unable to read whether the question is an idle one or if it comes with the undercurrent of an offer. "I have not," he admits.

[mr_fring]

"Hm." Tired of standing still, Gus starts moving toward the water at a slow pace. "And have you been approached by anyone?" There's something about the way Rashad acts that leads Gus to think the most straightforward approach is the best one.

[omnomnom_feels]

Rashad paces along beside him, footfalls silent. "By a member of one of the factions, you mean," he surmises, glancing up at his reptilian companion. "I am...aware of them. But I have not been...approached, as you say."

He's been window shopping, Gus.

[mr_fring]

"I see." Good that he's already up to speed. Saves him the trouble of explaining, which he really doesn't want to do under such ridiculous circumstances. "And what conclusions have you come to? If I may ask. In the interest of curiosity."

[omnomnom_feels]

"Rumors abound," replies Rashad cryptically, though really he's only heard rumors from one source. "But it seems to me one side wishes to impose order while the other...does not." The way he says it sounds like a neutral statement, but he knows which stance he prefers at its core.

[mr_fring]

Gus casts a sidelong glance down at his strange acquaintance, trying to make heads of tails of that remark. An odd thing to say, and possibly a dangerous indication. Gus has become practiced at staying out of contact with Rebel types, but if this man is opposed to the so-called imposition of order - well. It has a way of making a man nervous, especially when the possible enemy is in the body of a wildcat.

"And what is your assessment of that?" he asks as tactfully as possible. "Do you feel there is any... need for organization?" He's always preferred that word to order. Much more innocuous.

[omnomnom_feels]

How else is order supposed to come about if one does not impose it? Rashad meant nearly the opposite of how Gus interpreted it, but of course he's none the wiser to that fact. He blinks up at the other man, unsure why that's even a question and wary now. Perhaps Gus is one of the rebels, one of those who does not see that the need for order in the world might trump personal desires. If it is so, what danger might he pose? Not a significant immediate danger, Rashad decides, and if the man is a rebel he does not intend to join them anyhow.

"Order is not the natural way of the world," he says. "It is up to the people who live in it to give the world order. There is always need for that."

[mr_fring]

Gus relaxes at once. It seems he'd judged mistakenly - though he's never quite met anyone so immediately devoted to the idea, with such lack of wariness or irony. It seems almost in danger of wandering toward the radical or fascistic, but Gus isn't exactly out to judge. Someone so dedicated might be useful, after all.

"We are in agreement there," he says, smiling for the first time since meeting Rashad, though not with any real warmth. He has always been something of a double agent for organizations like ROMAC, using them to blanket his true work; but he has no such work here. In some ways he realizes he is truly becoming what he's always pretended to be. Fittingly enough.

"I work for ROMAC; I'm actually in the recruiting department." If he had a card (and this weren't a dream), he'd give it over now. "I would be happy to place you within the organization - provide you with a place to stay, some necessaries, and a stipend. I could process you myself. If you remember this when you wake up, our offices are located in the Citigroup tower on Lexington and 53rd. Ask for Gustavo Fring."

There. Pitch given. He finds he's reached the water's edge, and stops, gazing down at it.

[omnomnom_feels]

If Rashad had feelings he'd be glad he encountered someone in ROMAC like this; he had been unsure how to go about attracting their attention without attracting that of the rebels instead...or of local law enforcement. He doesn't expect that anyone might be able to connect him with the death of the first man he encountered in this world, but he is not eager to make himself too widely known.

"I will ask for you," he says with a smile of his own. His, too, fails to convey real warmth. Despite his apparent openness, he does still have reservations. He is familiar enough with demons and mortals and angels to know that entropy may disguise itself as order. "But what of the rumors that ROMAC is keeping prisoners?"

[mr_fring]

Gus drags his gaze from the water to Rashad, briefly. "I would not call them prisoners," he answers, "and that isn't so much my department." Technically true, though he has been working toward the inner sanctum gradually enough and he's learned the vague details. He was educated on the disaster some months ago, the failure to keep an overly powerful being contained, the violent fallout of that. And he's heard of more recent failures, as well - two subsequent break-ins, followed by an utterly undetected escape. Heads are rolling over that. There may be an opening for him soon enough.

"It would be more accurate to say we sometimes have the need of containing dangerous persons - people or entities who might cause harm to us." This is the explanation Gus has been given by higher ups, and it suits his purposes every bit as well as it suits theirs. "The rift has brought forth many powerful and dangerous people. Part of imposing order is keeping these people under control, is it not?"

He looks back at the water, feeling only the mildest twinge of contempt. Rashad is a fool if he thinks his apparently sacred 'order' can be accomplished without the proverbial breaking of eggs. Order is not clean. It is brutal, built on fear, death and silence. It is what shattered Gus' world and built him up anew. It is Maximino's blood in the water.

He hates the water.

"You said it yourself, order is not the natural way," murmurs Gus. "We work to right chaos, and sometimes, there are those who must be dealt with."

[omnomnom_feels]

Rashad does not like the complications mortals bring to the basic tenets of the universe. What is the world, though, but one great complication? His tail twitches back and forth like it has a life of its own as he listens and considers. He is no stranger to violence in the service of order, nor to facing violence from the other side. The difficulty arises in finding the correct balance, in pursuing the action that will ultimately make one little part of the universe slot neatly into place.

He does not know Johnny's friends. He hardly knows Johnny. He does not know whether they are 'dangerous people.' And so it does not suit him to reveal that he has any connection to them, not even for the sake of inquiring as to why they were held captive. He will see for himself whether this ROMAC truly serves order, or if they merely wear it as a mask. That Gus did not deny the keeping of captives leads him to think perhaps Johnny was wrong about the organization; he had expected boldfaced lies denying it had happened at all.

He nods, pretending Gus is telling him something new and something that he can believe wholeheartedly. "There is no telling who -- or what the rift might bring through," he agrees. "Someone must take charge. I only asked because I must know the reasons for it."

[mr_fring]

"I understand." Gus is not entirely swayed by Rashad's overtly pragmatic manner. There's something going on there, beneath the surface, and he's not sure what to make of it yet. But it's only a dream. That knowledge helps him relax, once he's over the strangeness of it.

"Well, I have nothing to hide," he says, crouching down. He dips his hand into the water, which feels strange on his new, hard skin - colder, sharper. He must be cold blooded now. Natural for him to avoid water, then, stay where it's dry. His new form is fitting, in that way. He wonders whether it was his own subconscious that chose this body, or the rift.

"We can talk about this more thoroughly when we're awake and in our proper bodies," he says with good humor. There are, of course, things Rashad will not be privy to. Newcomers don't get to know everything simply because they ask the right questions. Gus has always known that. "I'll be keeping an eye out for you."

[omnomnom_feels]

"And I you," replies Rashad. "It will be a relief to have somewhere to rest my head." It won't, but that seems correct. He watches the not-beastman dabble in the water and wonders how it can be that this waking world does not have such beings. The cue to make his graceful exit from the conversation whooshes by over his head and he just stands there, as satisfied to remain next to Gus as he would be to go anywhere else.