Never Lie, Never Sin, Tell Us What A Mess We're In [Open to Multiple]

[all_the_gifts]

Melanie stares at the door to her cell. There is something different about it today. She's having a little trouble placing it, but she knows there's something off. It's concerning. She has been so clear about what ROMAC needs to do to keep everyone else safe from her, and the suspicion that they're messing up somehow makes her very, very nervous.

It's the locks, she realizes after a few moments of intense scrutiny. That is what's wrong. There are supposed to be five, but she only counts four. That can't be right. Melanie approaches the door with a little frown on her face, her fingertips hovering a few inches from the metal, wary of the shock she'll get if she actually touches it. Her hand flits from lock to lock like a hummingbird. Now there are six. How are there six? She counts again, baffled to find that the number has halved itself to three.

She tries to count again, but this time, there are none.

Now she does reach out to touch the door, she can't help it - she can't believe it. They can't have taken the locks away. They're important. Hasn't she made it clear how incredibly important it is that they keep her in here?

The door does not shock her. Instead, it swings open beneath her hand, smooth and silent.

Melanie presses her lips together, her mouth a thin, disapproving line. She doesn't like the thought of leaving her room, but someone has to be told about this so they can get it fixed. Keeping her movements slow and even, as if she's trying to sneak past a group of hungries, Melanie carefully steps out into the hall to look for help.

Comments

[bibliophale]

Well, now. This is different. It's not like the others, so directionless and all-encompassing, so crowded with mental presence - here, there's only the one. This is a particular dream, one person's mind. How curious.

Once again, he doesn't really remember falling asleep. This has got to stop happening. He frowns sternly at the surroundings and pokes around for a bit. Strange, that he can wander around without directly interacting with the dreamer.

Or - who's that, there? Someone's rounded the corner of the long, vaguely corporate-looking corridor. Someone... not familiar. Someone very small.

She's the dreamer? But who is she? She feels... different, somehow. Something's off, not quite human, not quite a singular mind. He can't pin down what it is he's sensing. Maybe some sort of... dream static. He brushes it aside for now.

"Er," he says. Children. Oh dear. He's not good with children. He rubs his palms on his trousers. "Hello." He bends down a little, trying to appear affable. He has no idea how to approach this - does she know she's dreaming? Should he tell her?

He settles for a straightforward, "Are you all right?"

[all_the_gifts]

Melanie can tell at a glance that he - whoever he is - is on the wrong floor. He's not wearing the uniform, and he's acting lost. Which means, she realizes with mingled disappointment and fear, that he can't help her, and that she's a danger to him.

And he doesn't even know. Multiverse aside, she's not sure she'll ever get used to the way people don't know.

"I shouldn't be out like this," she says, both a complaint and a warning. Frowning dubiously, she adds, "And you shouldn't be here, either. You need to go."

[bibliophale]

"Oh," he says uncertainly, having absolutely no idea what she means. Out of her head? Out of... this location, presuming she believes the dream to be reality? Difficult to say. It's not exactly what he expected from someone of her apparent age¹. In his extremely limited experience, children usually want to make messes and watch telly. They certainly aren't concerned with being out at the wrong time.

Well, better see what she knows. "Do you know where we are?" he asks as kindly as he knows how, which is just shy of full-on patronizing, and mostly avoids being that because he is legitimately asking. Whether he means the dream or the building is up to her, and her answer will be telling.


¹ Aziraphale's visual comprehension of human age is rather shaky as it is. If asked, he might put Melanie somewhere in the 3-5 range, though she is quite apparently ten.

[all_the_gifts]

For a moment, Melanie just stares at him while her mind ticks over the possibilities. She's been told the rift grants strange powers, but what are the odds that someone could - or would - use such a power to get this far into ROMAC without having any apparent clue as to what they were doing? And even if that was the case, the guards should have stopped him by now. But there are no guards. The halls are deserted aside from her and this man.

And the cameras. Melanie's gaze flicks to one of the security cameras mounted in its dark glass dome, and she remembers her lessons, back before the base fell. She remembers having one arm carefully unstrapped so she could do writing exercises or calculus equations. So she could be tested.

Melanie's frown deepens, and she takes a slow, deliberate step backwards. "You're in ROMAC's high security wing," she explains, her voice clipped and furious. "And I'm guessing you only got this far because they want to see what I might do to you."

[bibliophale]

Aziraphale takes a moment to study her, considering her answer. She seems very certain of herself, very aware of her surroundings, fabricated though they may be. He knows humans are capable of creating a great deal in their dreams, but this seems far too specific. From what he's learned of ROMAC from Crowley and general hearsay, it's not at all unlikely that they do have this sort of 'high-security' area, but to what purpose? And why is this little girl dreaming she is there?

Even more confounding is her little theory. She delivers it with a seriousness he's never seen in a child, and he is inclined to match her gravitas, if only to play along.

"What do you mean?" he says, cautious, curious, only a little indulgent. "What might you 'do' to me?"

[all_the_gifts]

That's the wrong question. The right question is something more like, 'what should she do to him?' If they're testing her self-control, if that is the experiment, then what is the hypothesis? Either they think she'll march right back to her room like a good girl, or they think she'll attack him. She doesn't want to attack him, but she can't just think about what she wants - or what he wants. She has to think about what's best for everyone.

It might be best for everyone if she could prove to her observers that the threat is very real, and very serious.

Melanie shifts up onto the balls of her feet and fists her hands, tense and unhappy. Why can't they just believe her without testing her against this nice man who sounds like home? It's not fair. It's wrong. her little face screws up into a tormented expression, and she cries, "I'll fucking dismantle you! You have to go!"

[bibliophale]

Oh dear. Oh no. The child is crying. The child used a very bad word indeed, and is crying. Aziraphale has no idea what has happened, but he straightens up, startled, mildly scandalized, and hugely uncomfortable.

"What?" he blurts unhelpfully. "Wh - no, no, you won't... dismantle me, how silly." Poor thing, what an odd and unfortunate nightmare. He takes a step closer, not knowing what to do, if he should try to make contact, or what - he raises his hands slightly, a bit like he's approaching a strange dog. "There, there. You mustn't worry. This is just a dream, you see."

That'll make everything better, right?

[all_the_gifts]

Melanie shakes her head, primed for action but rooted to the spot. The only thing that stops her from bolting back the way she came is the belated realization that she can't smell him. Even as he steps forward, there's no enticing waft of humanity. She drops onto her heels, literally floored, and glances between his hand and his face. E-blocker? But he doesn't smell like chemicals, either. She doesn't smell anything.

Before she can really process the sensory loss, he tells her they're dreaming, and Melanie puts a hand to the wall. It feels solid, steadying. But how else could she explain the scent loss, unless he's got a very strange rift power and is using it on her...

Melanie worries her lip between her teeth for a moment. "I don't normally dream," she says, sounding faintly accusatory. "And you don't understand. I'm dangerous." She gives his outstretched hand an uneasy look. "I could hurt you."

[bibliophale]

He frowns, perplexed by her insistence that she's dangerous, even in spite of the dream explanation. She does not seem confused or irrational, rather she sounds like she knows exactly what she's talking about. But she's so small, and clearly good-hearted, what is it about her that makes her dangerous?

"Nor do I," he says, "dream, that is. Not normally. It's something the rift does, pulls us into dreams together. This is your first time, I take it?" He offers her a faint smile, trying to appear calm and composed for the both of them.

"I promise you won't hurt me," he adds, a little more properly soothing this time. "For one thing, I'm quite a bit stronger than I look. But more importantly, nothing that happens in dreams will affect us when we wake up. We may remember each other, but that's all." He strengthens the smile a bit, encouraging.

"My name's Aziraphale," he says. "What's yours?"

[all_the_gifts]

Melanie's stronger than she looks, too, so that isn't much of a reassurance. She drops her hand from the wall and links her fingers together behind her back, as if in weak imitation of being handcuffed.

She's still not sure about this dream stuff, but regardless of what's really going on, all that's happening so far is this man talking to her. If things continue in this vein, that wouldn't be so bad. She doesn't want to hurt him, and it seems she doesn't have to.

"Melanie," she answers. "My name is Melanie." Her eyebrows quirk as she looks up at him and repeats, "Aziraphale?" That's like nothing she's ever heard before. She silently mouths the name to herself, committing it to memory. Then, with careful good manners, "It's nice to meet you." She hesitates for a few long seconds, then takes a few steps forward, halts, and gingerly extends a hand, like she's seen adults do when they meet one another.

[peacefulexplorer]

This place has lots of hallways and cameras and doors and it is perfectly, unnervingly silent, so Daniel decides on principle that he doesn't like it. He can't imagine what possessed him to think that coming here was a good idea in the first place except that - he can't remember how he got here. His understanding of any sort of recent timeline is thoroughly muddled.

A dream, then? Something Rift-related? He can only hypothesize.

In any case, Daniel decides that getting out makes for a solid plan. The place does have the air of something official, strictly functional. So not a military base, but perhaps something along those lines. And Daniel is good with military bases. All right, so he's good with one particular military base. He's still going to put that one in his plus column.

The only issue here is that at least military bases have the good grace to label everything and the halls and walls here are all distressingly identical. Daniel realizes this too late as he enters yet another hallway that looks exactly like all the others he's passed through, and is about to wonder if he can forcefully wake himself up - assuming this is a dream, which he's beginning to suspect it is as it's begun to resemble a few of his less pleasant dreams - when he notices her: a girl, small and alone and probably no more than nine or ten.

Worries about indistinguishable hallways immediately forgotten, Daniel makes a beeline for her.

"Hello?" he calls, slowing as he approaches. Last he checked he didn't think he cut a very intimidating figure, but if this girl has been all alone here for a while there's no way of telling what she might find scary. A strange man showing up out of nowhere might make the list.

[all_the_gifts]

That is not Aziraphale.

Worse, he's a soldier - not a ROMAC guard, but a proper soldier, like any of the ones that used to live at the base. He could have been strapping her into a wheelchair, or holding her at gunpoint, or calling her a frigging abortion. Melanie stiffens like a startled cat, then darts back a few yards, bare feet pattering on the floor in an unsettlingly rapid tattoo.

"Stay away from me!" she snaps. This time, it's less clear whether it's his safety that concerns her, or her own.

[peacefulexplorer]

"Woah!" Daniel's hands fly up, palms out, and he backs away slowly in what's intended to be a peaceable, reassuring gesture. "Hey, it's okay. It's okay."

All right, so yes. Intimidating. Definitely intimidating. Other than perhaps his stature Daniel can't imagine why - he's lacking even the bare minimum of a sidearm which is really just basic oversight on the part of -

And then he looks down, and realizes.

Yes.

He's back in his old olive green BDUs. Thoroughly militarian in appearance, even if the shirt is unbuttoned in a definitely non-regulatory fashion.

Daniel looks back up, wincing, and concludes that this is definitely a dream. And it's already not going well.

"I'm sorry," he says, voice low and quiet and hopefully consoling. "I didn't mean to startle you."

[all_the_gifts]

Melanie retreats further, ducking sideways down a hall so she can peer at the soldier from around the corner, leaving only half of her head and a few pale fingers visible. She doesn't see a gun, but that doesn't mean he hasn't got one tucked away, and she doesn't want to present an easy target.

"Who are you?" she asks, eyes (or eye, from his perspective) narrowing in suspicion. "How did you get in here?"

[peacefulexplorer]

He backs up a few more paces just for good measure. The girl seems intent on putting a good amount of distance between them, so he'll just...help her out with that until she can see that he's quite harmless. He's not even armed and in the same thought he really really hopes that they are the only two people in the vicinity right now.

"It's okay," Daniel repeats, straining to see the small figure peeking out from the other side of the hallway. He doesn't think simple repetition will do any good, so he starts with answering her questions. Perfectly reasonable questions. "My name's Daniel. I just, I came in here, I was lost and I was just looking for a way out. I'm sorry if I startled you."

He keeps his hands away from his sides in an effort to look nonthreatening, though in her defense he can see why a six foot man in BDUs might seem intimidating even if he currently feels like the farthest thing from it.

[all_the_gifts]

This is a dream, Melanie reminds herself. According to Aziraphale, that means neither of them can get hurt - or if they can, it'll be gone when they wake up. It's a little reassuring, but only a little. The wall feels real, and the floor feels real, and she imagines getting shot would feel pretty real, too.

"Daniel," she repeats, leaning out just enough to glare at him with both eyes instead of just one. Daniel, like that Bible story Miss Justineau read them once. "In the lions' den," she says aloud. It might even be true. She'd sure like to think that she's a bigger danger to him than he is to her. And he does seem to be trying not to frighten her.

Melanie gives him a dubious once-over, then orders, "Hold your arms out straight to the side. And hold still."

[peacefulexplorer]

He smiles a little at the biblical reference, both to continue to look friendly and in bemusement at her immediate association.

"That's right," he replies, "like the lions' den." He'd like to say something about not hurting the lions or the lions not hurting him but that would be drawing false parallels with some rather disturbing implications. He elects to stay where he is while the girl gives him orders with an authority that belies her physical age, though Daniel knows by now that appearances can be deceiving. He obeys in slow, precise movements, worried that any sudden motion could be misconstrued as a threat.

"It's okay," he says again, completely unsure if the words are having their desired effect. "I promise I'm not going to hurt you."

[all_the_gifts]

He's clearly trying to be friendly, but the uniform makes her disinclined to trust him. Maybe it's some sort of trick. Or maybe he thinks he's telling the truth, but he'll change his mind in a hurry once he finds out what she is.

Either way, she needs to reassure herself that he's unarmed. Melanie edges out from around the corner, then slowly makes her way toward him, ready to bolt if he makes any sudden moves. But he doesn't, and she comes to an uneasy halt a few paces away. "I'm going to check for weapons," she explains, eyes already seeking out any tell-tale bulges where a holster might be hidden. "Okay?"

[peacefulexplorer]

"Okay." All right then, so she clearly knows what she's doing. And seeing as she can't be more than ten Daniel finds that...concerning. She's just a kid. She shouldn't have to know or care about weapons but - okay, he's just going to go along with it if it helps put her at ease.

"I'm unarmed," he says as she draws closer, holding himself as still as he possibly can. Daniel's pretty sure he is, anyway, because he didn't actually check and there's always the chance that the dream could have dropped some of his old gear into the setting along with him. Assuming it is a dream. He's not sure if the girl knows or suspects it. But he's missing the familiar weight of a sidearm or the bulk of the tac vest so he can only stand, proverbial fingers crossed, and pray that the Rift didn't go farther than BDUs.

[interndana]

As far as dreams go, wandering the halls at work seems entirely mundane compared to some of the things Dana's seen. She isn't too concerned, the tile floors have a familiar pattern, even if the hallway is darker than it should be and the color of the paint is slightly off. She turns at a junction, and oh, no, this isn't the kitchen, this is someplace else.

She frowns, looking down the hall for any sign of something familiar. Perhaps she ended up on the wrong floor? Anxiety starts to creep in; Dana doesn't want to get lost here, she doesn't want to be lost ever again. She's just about to turn around and look for an elevator, or a floor map, when she catches sight of movement further down the hall. Oh thank goodness, she's not alone.

Dana hurries walks calmly like a not-lost person toward the other dreamer.

"Excuse me," she calls, trying to catch sight of whoever's there. "Do you know where I am?"

[all_the_gifts]

And here's another one - but it's a woman this time. Now that Melanie's getting used to this whole dreaming thing, she's a bit less surprised and a lot less worried at meeting another person. So she stills, letting the woman catch up to her.

"It's okay," she says, looking up at the woman. She reminds her, a little, of Aziraphale. They both have such nice, fluffy hair. "We're dreaming. It's not real."

[interndana]

Oh, it's a little girl. And she knows it's a dream at least, that bypasses a lot of potential confusion.

"Thank you," says Dana with a smile. "I've been in dreams like this before. I was only wondering because I thought this was where I work, but it doesn't quite seem right." She wonders for a moment if it's too much a breach of protocol to mention where she works, but dreams, what's the harm. "If...if this is ROMAC, I don't think this is a part of the building I'm familiar with."

She crouches down to be more on the girl's level, it's only polite. "My name's Dana," she says, tilting her head a little. "Is this your dream?"

[all_the_gifts]

"It is ROMAC!" Melanie says, pleasantly surprised to learn that the woman works there. She's never seen her before, but ROMAC is in a big building, so that isn't so surprising. "We're downstairs. I don't think too many people are allowed down here." But, this being a dream, it hardly matters.

"I'm Melanie." It doesn't occur to her that she should be anything but forthcoming with someone who works for ROMAC, or that what goes on in the basement might not technically be any of Dana's business. "And… I think so. I've never had a dream like this before." It's so nice to not have to be extra careful with what she says. "Normally, I don't dream at all."

[interndana]

"Hmm, I probably don't have access to the basement." Dana wonders just how far down the levels even go. "The most important things I have to do are usually fixing paper jams. Or getting lunch." Being an intern here has so far been a lot less life-threatening than back home, and if Dana's perfectly honest with herself, it's almost kind of boring, not dealing with supernatural horrors every day.¹

She wonders why Melanie is down here, though. "Are you familiar with this level at all?" she asks slowly, trying out phrasing in her head before she speaks. "Does one of your parents work here, or..." there is another possibility, of course, she's heard of this circumstance in passing but never actually encountered anyone subject to more restricted living conditions. "Um, did the Rift do something bad to you?"


¹ This is not to say that Dana feels as though she were owed mountains of bones, but you have to admit that the idea of Rift monitoring and management holds a little more promise of adventure than the reality of wrangling the Keurig.

[all_the_gifts]

Melanie hesitates for a beat, then shakes her head. "I don't have parents, and the rift didn't do anything to me." Except bring her here, which is arguably damage enough. She might have enjoyed the chance to see what the world was like before the Breakdown if she wasn't carrying the seeds of another Breakdown inside of her. "I'm the one who's dangerous."

"But I don't want to hurt anyone!" she hastens to add, taking a little step back. "And I don't think I could in a dream like this. It wouldn't be real, Aziraphale said." That's all assuming the dream stays pleasant, of course. She already knows how real the bad parts can feel.