applesaucedream | Tender Lumplings Everywhere, Life's No Fun Without A Good Scare [Open to All]

Current Music: Evening July 27th/Morning July 28th

Tender Lumplings Everywhere, Life's No Fun Without A Good Scare [Open to All]

The woods are dark and deep, but not particularly lovely. If anything, they feel dangerous, as if something terrible might come lurching out from behind any given tree and tear into the nearest warm body. What that terrible thing might be is anyone's guess. A cat with hands? Slenderman? Stegosaurus? Actual cannibal Shia LaBeouf? All of the above in a horrible mob? It's anyone's guess. But every dreamer will be absolutely convinced that there is something unspeakable out there, and that it's after them.

The dreamers have two things on their side. The first is that there is actually nothing dangerous lurking in these woods (with the possible exception of other dreamers). The pervasive terror the dreamers are feeling is just that: a rift-given feeling, nothing more and nothing less. That snapping twig or rustle in the undergrowth is almost certainly just a squirrel or something else equally harmless.

The second is that no dreamer is alone. They all will be reunited with - or introduced to - their dæmons, a source of comfort in this dark, intimidating wilderness. However frightened the dreamers might be, at least they have someone with them who definitely doesn't want them dead.

[OOC: as ever, any and all are welcome! You don't have to be in the game to join the fun. Dreamers can remember or forget the events of the dream at the players' discretion. And the party only stops when you want it to; feel free to backtag forever.]

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"I wouldn't worry. You know if Daniel sees anything," says Aliyah matter-of-factly, piping up before Daniel can respond, "he'll probably just do something stupidly heroic to put a stop to it, like throwing himself dramatically in the way." The 'you idiot' goes unworded but is painfully implicit.

Daniel levels an expression that's meant to be a stern glare at her but in actuality ends up halfway between bafflement and guilt.

"Okay, that? Now, now that -" he begins with self-righteous indignation before abruptly deflating, "doesn't sound too far off, actually."

He's not sure what this constitutes. Is he arguing with himself in a roundabout sort of way? He's fairly sure internally debating the specifics won't do much by way of understanding why the manifestation of his soul is making loud (and uncomfortably astute) observations about his probable disaster reactions. He'll settle for trying to scowl at her with little success.

Seth tries really hard not to smirk at Aliyah's comment, he really, really tries. And fails.

Well, at least Daniel is aware of it. They thankfully haven't been in a situation in the waking world where it would be necessary, but it's enough of a pattern in the dreams.

"Well, at least that's actually dealing with a problem," Sephronia comments pointedly, nudging Seth's leg. "Instead of shutting himself in and pretending it doesn't exist."

"Oh, you too, huh?" Seth answers, clearly not amused. "Great, thanks."

It's not entirely unfair. Then again, you'd probably be unlikely to get an unfair character assessment from your own soul. Unless you're that deeply in denial, which, Seth isn't even sure that's possible.

"Guess we're two-for-two on the whole 'scary personality insight' thing," Daniel answers, vaguely amused by their respective souls' complete lack of tact but sobering a little in response to Sephronia's little comment nonetheless.

"Well yes," Aliyah says, sounding thoroughly exasperated. "When your frequent humanitarian impulses get you, us even, killed on a semi-regular basis, one tends to notice."

That's fair. In fact, Daniel won't even pretend to protest at that one. He scratches the fur on the top of her head and shoves his hands back into the relative kinesic safety of his BDU pockets.

"What've you been up to, then?" he asks in a poorly concealed attempt to shift the subject away from (a) uncomfortably accurate portraits of personal attributes and (b) the resurgence of anxiety that prickles at the nape of his neck. It feels an awful lot like something's watching him, however much Daniel tries to convince himself that it's the dream equivalent of a psychosomatic reaction.

Seth's just going to go ahead and pick Sephronia up before she can make any more comments, holding her for a second before letting her settle around his shoulders, gripping onto his jacket with her claws for balance. Considering she's a tree cat, balance and climbing is something she does rather well.

"Same old," he answers with a shrug, which causes Sephronia to bat at his nose to remind him to maybe not move his shoulders as much when she's up here.

"Um, but yeah, Johnny said you'd met in that underwater dream," he says, remembering suddenly what they were talking about before Aliyah had distracted them. "He's a friend of mine, and neighbour. I said I could invite you both over sometime, so you could meet outside of horrific nightmare settings," he continues with a small smile.

He can't suppress his amused look at the sight of Sephronia balancing on Seth's shoulders. The image manages to present itself as both completely natural and faintly ridiculous, something Daniel's one hundred percent certain only Seth could achieve.

"Yeah, okay, I remember. Er, kinda." He wracks his brains for a minute. "Not sure how great an impression I made, using his leg for leverage so I wouldn't drown. Pretty sure we saved each other's lives though, so I guess that's something. Non-horrific nightmare settings would probably be preferable to...yeah, that."

He remembers pieces and shreds of it - at some point they'd both mentioned knowing Lucy, and then Johnny had almost been strangled by that masked thing, and there's some inconclusive bits about ankles and needles that Daniel's not sure he wants to examine too closely.

Seth is about to comment that Daniel seemed to save several people's lives in that dream, but then they don't really need the reminder that in the end he had tried and failed with Seth. It's not a thing he wishes to dwell on, and it had been a slightly too intense way to get to know someone.

"He said you seemed like a nice guy, so it can't have been too bad," he reassures with a smile instead. "I met him through Gabe, sort of. They're a couple."

At this Sephronia gives him a look which he staunchly ignores. Yeah, it's possible he's mostly mentioning that to first of all see how Daniel feels about guys dating. It's kind of difficult to ask about these things without being obvious.

"Really?" Daniel cocks his head, chewing on his lower lip thoughtfully. "Huh. The archangel thing isn't an issue? Is that technically an interspecies relationship? Oh god, don't tell either of them I said that out loud."

Aliyah nudges him, none too gently, and Daniel winces. Yeah, he can definitely see how that'd be interpreted as insensitive.

"Sorry, sorry. Just - what about the different lifespans? Isn't Gabe like, you know...ageless?"

Seth smiles a little at Daniel's instant realisation that he said something inappropriate. But he didn't even seem to blink at the gay thing - well, not gay, Seth corrects himself, presumably they're both bisexual. If you could even ascribe such labels to an archangel. Who knows.

"Questions they are dealing plenty with, yeah," Seth answers with a nod. He stops himself from shrugging again. He also stops himself from talking any more about that, since, well, it's not really his place, especially to share it with Daniel who they barely even know.

"Every relationship's gotta end sometime, right?" he says, and the sort of subdued way he says it and how Sephronia gently nuzzles his neck afterwards probably hints at his personal history with that.

End.

"Yeah," whispers Daniel.

His typical verbosity isn't an option; the back of his throat has closed. He has a long and intimate relationship with the concept of the end, primarily because his experience with it disallowed a definition that was easily categorized. It never happened in one panicked instant. It happened gradually and over an aching, protracted period of time, broken up in the periodic snatches of optimism and the fragility of hope, in an erratic, inexorable downward pull, and once it happened Daniel couldn't even wrestle at the ridges of his own distorted grief because that grief expended itself, had been expending itself since the end began.

Years ago. It was years ago.

And Daniel shouldn't be tangling with those memories right now.

"Yeah," is all he can say a second time, uselessly, and his hands clench in their pockets. He can see his own muted regret mirrored in the slope of Seth's shoulders and the slant of his head, and takes comfort in that there's very little he can say to alleviate that for either of them. One can't fix the damaged space the mind exists in after that collision with the mindlessness of grief. One just learns to live there.

Seth can tell pretty easily that Daniel's had some personal experience with this too. He's curious about it, but mainly it just upsets him to see him so quickly change from his talkative, optimistic self, to someone who can barely get two words out, and it's the same word twice.

At Daniel's continued silence, Seth steps over quietly and nudges him gently with his elbow. "Wanna talk about it?" he asks softly, as Sephronia reaches out and paws softly at Daniel's shoulder. There clearly is an 'it' here, and if Seth can help in any way, he'd very much like to. Only fair, with all the support Daniel's given him so far.

"Ah," says Daniel, adopting the automatic conversational reticence that usually follows that particular inquiry aimed at that particular spot in his life. Sephronia offers a stabilizing paw to his shoulder for reassurance and for a minute Daniel is seized with the absurd urge to grab hold of it in completion of the implicit 'helping hand' metaphor.

The distracted regret lingering in his expression crumbles under the pressure of the fluid half-smile he shoots at Seth in response.

"I'm not the only person in the world who's familiar with the concept of loss," he replies easily. "It'll happen regardless of who you are or how dangerous your job is. We're just two of its many victims."

An appropriately blanket-like statement, designed to carefully ease the pathway of discussion away from the harsh specifics. Daniel's a little guilty to be employing such an obviously political tactic but it's currently the best way he can think of to inform Seth that, no, now wouldn't be the best time for talking about the weighty and ambiguous 'it' or dissecting any of the associated emotions. The dream environment is damaging his sensory reflexes enough as it is.

Seth nods, not pressing the subject. Not the best time or place to discuss it - generally you'd have to feel pretty safe to talk about that sort of stuff, and this dream definitely does not lend itself to 'safe'. Not even slightly, in fact it seems to be actively working against 'safe'.

He wants to make some sort of quip, a joking comment to lighten the mood, but with the subject it's hard to think of anything that wouldn't backfire terribly. Well hey, at least yours probably didn't turn into a zombie and try to murder your girlfriend, right? No, it just wouldn't work.

"How very politician-like of you," he comments mildly, with a joking but gentle smile. "One could almost think you were a diplomat or something."

Daniel looks at the ground, expression pained.

"Caught that, did you?" he mutters bitterly, a poor and failed attempt at lighter-hearted, self-reproachful charm. "Yeah I know, real subtle of me. Just not a topic I typically enjoy breaking out in the casual danger dialogue sense."

Which is definitely a faulty premise seeing as they're in no obvious danger to speak of, but the sentiment applies. Aliyah nudges his knee in gentle reassurance and he unconsciously drops one hand to stroke at her. Oh yeah. Stirring up all sorts of happy memories and emotions tonight.

"Hey," he says mildly, worried at his failed attempt to lighten the mood, and now it's his turn to put a comforting hand on Daniel's shoulder. He's not generally that quick to resort to physical comfort, but when Daniel looks like this it happens almost instinctually. Daniel comes across as so much more put-together than Seth, so when he's not, it's just really jarring and Seth gets the intense urge to fix it.

"I was only offering. You don't have to explain anything," he continues gently, watching Daniel carefully. "But, uh.. You offered to be there for me, you know? Just saying, if you wanna talk, or anything, not now but at some point, I.. You know, I'd like to return the favour."

He's not doing a good job at comforting, it sounds terribly awkward and overly sentimental, but he hopes the meaning behind it carries.

He flicks his eyes shut and steadies himself with a sharp intake of breath. It's not something he needs to dwell on, not right now and not while in such an overtly unfriendly environment.

Daniel's second attempt at a smile comes across as much more complete, though no less ruefully self-critical.

"Careful, there." There it is, the apologetic jocularity, his paper-thin, insufferably complex psychological armor. "You realize that now that you've offered there's no escape. You're just going to have to put up with a couple hours of contrived tangents about the cultural diversity of funerary rites, maybe stirring in a little omphaloskeptic discussion about what it all means if I'm feeling especially peppy."

As if he could ignore that old grief by virtue of loquaciousness alone. It's Daniel's favored tactic of tonal shift, this much is both true and glaringly obvious.

"I'm sure I'll manage to suffer through it," Seth replies with a smile he hopes is encouraging. "Who knows, maybe some of it will stick and I'll even learn something. Like what the hell omphalo- whatever means." Which sounds a bit like he's making a reference to the vast difference in education between them, and let's just sail right past that. They don't need any more self-pity or self-critique in this conversation.

"Just as long as you don't quiz me on it afterwards, I think we'll be okay," he adds, giving Daniel's shoulder a pat before stuff his hands back in his pockets.

Daniel's smile softens into something a little less raw, grateful for the offer of support. But he'll seize the subject shift and pursue it mercilessly until they're well away from the onset of painful memories.

"Mm, form of meditation. Very boring, allegedly, but I'm not a reliable party to ask. I tend to be biased in favor of meditation just on principle."

Aliyah huffs in a manner reminiscent of a long-suffering head shake.

"Because you do it all the time?" she asks unhelpfully, full well knowing the answer. Daniel fires her a Look and she stares evenly back, tail flicking innocently.

Seth's smile becomes a bit more relaxed and natural at Aliyah's comment. It is simultaneously very easy and very difficult to imagine Daniel meditating.

"You know, as nice as their company is, they're not very helpful, are they?" he comments, carefully reaching up to give Sephronia a gentle scratch, ignoring when she flicks him in the face with her tail.

"I think it's more an issue of lacking a filter," Daniel observes, raising a faintly amused eyebrow at Sephronia's antics.

"Appropriate, don't you think?" Aliyah retorts. "Seeing as you also lack a filter. Of any kind, really. How many times did that get you killed again?"

He considers that for a moment, corner of his mouth twitching when he concludes that the assessment is more than fair.

"All right, so maybe there's some minor hypocrisy." One hand darts out to ruffle at the fur behind her neck but Aliyah evades his grasp easily. "So we're the proud owners of a couple of glass houses, what can I say?"

Sephronia is keeping pretty quiet throughout this, so Seth thinks it's probably just Daniel and Aliyah who really lack the filter. Sephronia leans more towards merely voicing things Seth's already kind of thinking and wants to say but can't quite bring himself to share. At least that's happened a few times so far. Like just a while earlier when she revealed to Johnny that Seth has a thing for Daniel. Seth is very glad she doesn't consider it a good idea to tell Daniel the same thing. Though he can't pretend that thought doesn't have him a little bit worried.

"At least these two are kind of self reliant," he points out. "Johnny's was a little rabbit. But I also met a wolf. And apparently Gabe's a damn griffin, so."

"Gabe's a griffin?" Daniel halts, frowning sharply at some distant point between the trees. "No, okay. He's an archangel, so that - that actually makes sense." Sort of, anyway. He imagines it has something to do with the whole celestial origins thing, which stirs up a few memories of the other curiosities he's run into here and there.

"Some of these soul-animal things, these bits of ourselves? I guess they can get pretty intense," he remarks, watching Aliyah sniff at an innocuous root with a concentration that's not fully warranted. "Like okay, get this - met a guy with this big red cat that had wings. And an anatomically correct Lycian chimaera. I guess they're representations of us, you know, reflections of our inner selves."

Daniel's uncertain of the meaning of having a snow leopard as the physical extension of his soul, but he doesn't particularly mind it either. Aliyah operates in good synchrony with him, right down to the scintillating, blazingly perceptive stare.

And then there's the matter of her name. Whether it's something the dream picked out or a fundamental fact of Daniel, he finds its meaning to be unsettling and reassuring in equal quantities.

Daniel seems to have about the same reaction to Gabe being a griffin as Seth did, although his was a bit muted, a bit more resigned. Of course Gabe would be a griffin, that's perfectly ridiculous and impressive, both scary and kind of beautiful. He wonders if griffins have a tendency to make innuendo-filled comments a lot. Probably not.

Seth frowns at the news of someone with a literal chimera, though. That's... That doesn't sound like someone he wants to bump into. "Did you get his name?" he asks, trying not to sound worried.

"Um. Wait no, hang on, I know this." He has to shut his eyes, pinching the bridge of his nose to concentrate. Dreams are not temporally linear and that makes them infinitely more frustrating - that little encounter could have happened before or after this one, or even contemporaneously because dreams here are just like that, ever-diverging and tangling and splicing into one another with shameless abandon.

"Er. Wait. Wait wait wait." Yes, okay, this is good. He's remembering. Well, sort of. "Zagreus? Yeah, Zagreus. I remember, I asked him if that was, you know, as in the Dionysian god but he said there was no relation."

His recollection of that meeting runs thin at that point. Daniel gives his head a firm shake but the action stirs up nothing more.

Seth frowns at the name. It does sort of ring a bell, and he doesn't think it's because of the Dionysian god. But he hears a lot of names, many of them very strange, so it's difficult to remember the context. Finally he just shakes his head, giving up.

"Well, noted. Don't think we've met. And I don't think I want to if his soul is a chimera," he says.

Daniel shrugs and makes a noncommittal noise. That's fair, especially seeing as he can't really remember how amiable that exchange had been.

"Glad I ran into you, at least," he says with a nascent grin. "As opposed to, say, Lucifer." Now that would really not be a fun thing to run into.

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Tender Lumplings Everywhere, Life's No Fun Without A Good Scare [Open to All]

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