Sweeter than the First Time [Open to All]

[applesaucemod]

Hello, dreamers of Manhattan. The Rift knows that things have been kind of rough, lately. The last dream didn't go as well as it had hoped. Consider this an apology of sorts, and a hearkening back to the good times you've shared.

It's a grand old (and potentially familiar) cabin house that the dreamers will find themselves wandering. The furniture is plentiful and comfortable, the floors are strewn with cushions and blankets, and there are cheerful fires burning in the grates. It seems a little odd that the house still manages to be on the chilly side despite looking so warm, yet it is.

Oh, well. You'll just have to find another dreamer or two and spoon up and fall asleep like little baby cats get cozy. It shouldn't be difficult; most of the dreamers (excepting those with strong telepathic defenses or deeply ingrained cuddle-averse personalities) will find themselves feeling friendlier than usual, along with an almost overwhelming desire to snuggle up to someone. How convenient that the house seems designed for that very purpose!

And if some of the cushions are Hello Kitty themed, well, that's just coincidence.


[OOC: Standard dream party rules apply. Characters will be affected by the dream-whammy to whatever degree makes the most sense for them, and will remember or forget the events of the dream at the player's discretion. Backtag into infinity.]

Comments

[noteasybeingblue]

This is truly a curious symbiote. It prefers not to follow, not to lead, but to learn.

"I came into being upon my world's conception," Illyria tells it solemnly. "In the time of the Primordials, there was no learning except in the ways in which we dismembered our foes. In living so long and knowing so much, my knowledge is infinite, but the space it occupies," she looks at her shell in utter disgust, "finite."

[all_the_gifts]

Melanie can't help but be intrigued by the phrase 'infinite knowledge,' and she gives Illyria a reassessing look. "I don't need to learn how to dismember my foes," she replies, almost an even match for the god's solemnity. The hungry part of her already knows how to do that. "But I like learning other things, like maths and science and the arts. And I like stories."

She loves stories.

"Maybe there are things you could teach me," she hazards. Illyria might not like the idea. Aziraphale might not like the idea. But if he doesn't already know about Illyria, he probably should meet her, right? "About plants--the green?"

[noteasybeingblue]

She looks at the symbiote in complete bemusement. It is a strange blend, human but not purely. Mortal, likely. Illyria had not considered that vermin would come in such varied sizes. It has no interest in harnessing its powers to its own advantage, but would prefer to dismiss them entirely simply to better understand the world it occupies? Illyria has seen this world, its physics and its place, and she finds it utterly beneath her interest.

"I hear them," she tells the child-thing. "I hear their song. There was a time when I could not, and there was a time when no Rift would stop me from visiting whichever world I pleased." She looks at the thing in its eyes with a direct, penetrating blue stare. "Do you wish to know what your voices say?"

[all_the_gifts]

"I already know what my voices say," Melanie replies, meeting Illyria's gaze steadily. "That's why I keep them in a box." She touches her fingertips to her chest, just below her sternum. The box isn't real, but that's where she feels it would be, if it was. "But I can't hear any of the others, like the grass or the trees."

[noteasybeingblue]

She cocks her shell's head.

"Box."

She sees no box. The symbiote has given no indication of a box. Human biology is fairly incompatible with containing boxes within, as boxes are typically meant to encase things in an external.

Illyria was once kept in a box. Her essence was intended to remain contained until the end of time. A simple box could not hold a god, however, and she circumvented that pitiful boundary to be reborn.

"They are in your blood," she says evenly, displaying a minimum of confusion. Gods do not experience confusion, particularly not over small symbiote-children who speak of nonexistent boxes. "Within you. Not within any box."

[all_the_gifts]

"Not a literal box," Melanie explains, a little surprised by Illyria's confusion. Doesn't infinite knowledge cover metaphors? "An imaginary one, where I put the hunger so it can't hurt people." She shrugs once, gently. "When I don't listen to the voices, it's like I'm putting them in a box."

[noteasybeingblue]

That is a uselessly perplexing expression. Illyria decides it is not worth much of her time in determining the specifics; human colloquialisms are so very incomprehensible in their ever-changing, nonsensical fluidity.

"An unusual strategem." And not one she wishes to occupy herself examining. "You are intriguing to me. I will endeavor to locate you upon waking."

[all_the_gifts]

She's not sure she likes being referred to as 'intriguing,' but Illyria's promised not to harm her. And she's interesting in her own right. Melanie wouldn't mind hearing what other plants have to say, if she can talk the god into translating.

Still, that blunt promise to find her is a little bit off-putting. She doesn't think Aziraphale would like that. "I'm warded," she says instead. She doesn't know if the angel's protective magic would work on Illyria, but she doesn't want the god bouncing off of it and getting upset. "You'll have to ask Aziraphale."

[noteasybeingblue]

Warded is a peculiar measure but Illyria disregards it, disparaging. Wards cannot keep her out, nor have they ever. Perhaps magic functions in a different capacity here; she will tear to shreds such a thing if it happens to be the case.

The symbiote's next words elicit a flare of subdued interest.

"You live with the principality?" Coincidence or fate, it means little to Illyria. The principality may not be pleased to see her after their previous interaction, but she cares little for what it may think of her. She is a god, and she goes where she pleases. If she wishes to speak to the principality's symbiote, she will do so.

[all_the_gifts]

"Yes. He keeps me safe." Keeps everyone else safe from her, really, but he might also want to keep her safe from curious god-kings. "You know him?" she asks with a faint trace of hope. Maybe they're on good terms? She's not sure how an angel would get along with a god who probably has nothing to do with the god they're used to.

[noteasybeingblue]

"I do." Though their relations are somewhat more dubious now. The principality has been a highly useful source of information regarding this infuriating little prison of a world. Perhaps it would be prudent for Illyria to visit it once again and demand further explanation.

"The principality is an honorable opponent in battle, and has told me much of this world." This is entirely too favorable an evaluation of the creature's character, but it has been some time since they last exchanged blows. The principality can do very little to prevent a god from achieving what she wishes, if she so chooses to visit its symbiote.

[all_the_gifts]

Battle? So much for them being on good terms. Aziraphale might not like this at all. Melanie purses her lips in preemptive disapproval of Illyria trying to fight her angel, though she's not quite sure how to prevent it. Illyria already seems determined to visit. Melanie might know how to negotiate with a soldier like Parks, or other humans - people who ultimately don't want to fight if they can help it. She's not so sure about god-kings who seem to like the idea of battle.

But she also isn't afraid, not in this dream, so she folds her arms. "If you want to see me, you have to promise not to fight Aziraphale."

[noteasybeingblue]

The god gives the child a look intended to be cold and unyielding. Within this shell it perhaps looks vaguely stern.

"It was not my choice the second time we engaged," she informs the symbiote coolly. "The principality took my phone. I was merely attempting to retrieve it."

[all_the_gifts]

"Fighting is always a choice," Melanie replies, unappeased. "If you had asked, he probably would have given your phone back." She might not know the exact circumstances, but she has a hard time believing they had to have a fight over something as small as a phone. It must have been some kind of misunderstanding.

[noteasybeingblue]

"I did." Illyria had done much better than ask. She had commanded, and even that had not been enough. The principality is a worthwhile foe, but a wholly aggravating one. Oddly possessive of what had clearly been marked as belonging to Illyria.

Annoyed and dismissive, she adds, "its demon Pit-thing helped it show sense. We clashed only briefly."

[all_the_gifts]

So Crowley had to break them up. If Illyria comes to the flat, there won't be any Crowley to stop Illyria from using violence to settle any disagreements. She's so snooty, too, she reminds Melanie of someone. Not someone she knows, someone from a story. She thinks for a moment, and then she has it: the god-king talks just like Colin from The Secret Garden. Well, the words she chooses are different, but her attitude is just the same.

Well. Melanie lifts her chin stubbornly. "If you try to hurt Aziraphale for any reason, I won't say a single thing to you. I'll stare at the floor. You'll have wasted a trip."

[noteasybeingblue]

Illyria makes another irritable noise. She does not bow to small symbiote-children, nor does she meet any creature's demands but her own.

"The principality was unhurt," she tells it regardless. "We had come to an understanding."

No further blows were exchanged aside from those generated from its audacity in attempting to wrest one of Illyria's few possessions from her, and the conflict did not last long. Illyria emerged the obvious victor, but even now that battle is long past. Whatever physical injuries either of them sustained did not last long.

[all_the_gifts]

Melanie hums in consideration. She doesn't think Illyria is lying, but she's still not sure the god-king plans on behaving herself.

"Then we should have an understanding, too," she says, quite reasonably. "You agree not to hurt Aziraphale, and I..." she pauses a moment, less than eager to make this offer, but fairly certain Illyria will like it, "I'll tell you about how I helped conquer the earth, before the rift took me."

[noteasybeingblue]

She considers this pensively. Under the circumstances of her former self, she would not be in the habit of bargaining, particularly not with little symbiote-creatures that are so small and young, and resembling the vermin Illyria so detests. But she is no longer her former self, and the child's offer is one that appeals to a god.

"It is a good trade," she agrees at last. "In the days that follow, I will find you again."