Between the Roots and Branches [Open to All]

[applesaucemod]

Don't worry, dreamers of Manhattan. There will be no humiliating episodes of sudden-onset-clumsiness tonight - at least, nothing more severe than what you might experience naturally. Your physical and mental faculties will be left perfectly intact. What a treat! And what luck, because if you do lose your footing, it's a long way down to the forest floor.

But hey, who wants to be on the boring old ground when there are so many wonderful treehouses to explore? There are dozens of them spread throughout the surrounding forest, connected by a series of bridges and catwalks (some, admittedly, a bit more stable than others). It's easy to forget - or fail to notice - that there really is no easy or conventional way down to the ground when you're surrounded by such splendor.

The houses' styles range from charming and rustic to modern and sleek, with many falling somewhere in between. There are viewing platforms for bird-watching or simply taking in the scenery (trees, mostly, though if you venture high enough, you'll be treated the sight of the forest canopy stretched across a valley far below). But the insides of the treehouses are comfortably furnished to varying degrees as well, so there's no need to immerse yourself in nature if you'd really rather not. Some are complete houses in their own right, with all the amenities of a Manhattan apartment and then some.

Go for a climb, or kick back and relax. The only enemies you'll find here are other dreamers... and, potentially, gravity.

Comments

[postictal]

Tim utters a tiny, darkly amused snort, relaxing fractionally in the slight release of dry humor.

"Probably not. He doesn't really go out either." Though he's pretty sure no one would forget him, the way he lugs cameras around wherever he goes. He hovers one hand in front of his eye, a loosely cupped vertical arc - a camera in pantomime. "Jay. Hauls a camera around. Films everything." The hand drops. "He's a paranoid bastard, what can I say."

Not to say that Tim isn't. He's just a little better at not broadcasting it, usually. He's been doing a miserable job of it so far here, but his dreams have never built themselves into a forgiving landscape.

[stronglikebear]

"Oh," says Yuri for what feels like the fifteenth time. "No-o. No, I don't know him?" He does sound pretty distinctive; Yuri's pretty sure he would remember someone who always went around pointing a camera at everyone (and hasn't anyone told him to, like, not do that around the base? Maybe he hasn't really been in the base). "Are you guys in the apartments? I'm in the, uh, base. Spend most of my time down there."

[postictal]

Tim's expression shifts, briefly, hardening into something more definitively unsettled. He doesn't want to think about the Base or those - those things down there, those things that were cats without being cats.

"Yeah," he says shortly. "Apartments. I'm just - staying out of the whole political thing. I'm not - I don't - "

He makes a jerking, abortive movement with his chin and glances away. If this guy's at the Base he's probably in full support of these Rebel people. Tim wishes he hadn't given him his name at all. It's safer that way. It's always safer that way. What was he thinking.

"I try to stay out of it," he finishes unhelpfully, shrugging with a too-rigid shoulder. "Much as I can."

[stronglikebear]

"...But you do live in our apartments," clarifies Yuri dubiously, not even realizing until after he says it just how much ownership of the organization he's taking in that statement. Still, though -- if the guy wants to 'stay out of it,' that's okay (he guesses), but it strikes Yuri as distinctly not cool that he'd say that and avoid registering and then take advantage of them anyway.

"It's not even political," he protests, failing to remember that the point of this conversation was to put Tim at his ease, not to suss out his apparent mooching. "We're just trying to help people."

[postictal]

The pronoun use hasn't escaped him. The full power of Tim's uneven wariness sharpens fully, fixing on the man in front of him - who seems friendly and earnest and set in his belief that he must be helping people, he must be, he - he can't not be.

The complete lack of self-awareness about his own naivete. The initial disarming approach. The overwhelming desire to help, to convince Tim that he's trying to help.

Well. It's one hundred percent Jay. It's the exact same fucking tactic, except that won't work on Tim twice.

"Sure," Tim says sharply, dubiously, hand tight around the tiny orange bottle in his pocket that is going to stay in his pocket, well and truly out of sight. "Sure you are. And it's my personal choice to stay out of it."

[stronglikebear]

Yuri's brow darkens and his mouth sets into a hard line. He feels...hurt, really. How can someone act like the Rebels are out to get him when he hasn't even given them a chance? When he's practically stealing from them when all they'd even want in exchange for a place to live is to account for him and make sure he has the things he actually needs instead of leaving him to couch surf?

But Tim is practically panicking over trees, too, and Yuri does his best to rain in the urge to snap back at him. "You're not being fair," he grumbles, not resisting entirely perfectly.

[postictal]

He meets Yuri's stare steadily, more steady and firm and adamant than he's been this entire dream.

He's right. Talking did help ground him. Suddenly he's not quite so preoccupied by the trees anymore. He's more concerned about the million other things wrong with his life, with his entire situation, with the fact that he's just given himself away to someone who might very well draw attention to him in the waking world. That's not what he needs. Not on top of everything else.

Sure handled this interaction well, didn't he? He isn't Jay and he isn't Alex - he should be better at this.

"You don't get what I've dealt with," Tim says flatly. "There are reasons for it, and trust me when I say that it is far," he hesitates, knowing the risk he might be taking with the word choice but he's been more or less backed into a corner at this point and if it'll keep Yuri from mentioning this to anyone once he's awake - "safer," Tim says finally, carefully, eyes dark and meaningful, "this way."

[stronglikebear]

If Tim means to turn Yuri away from informing on him to the Rebels, he is saying all the wrong things right now. Maybe Tim thinks he knows how to handle whatever his problem is by himself, but if it's something that's not safe it kind of strikes Yuri as counterintuitive to have him living in secret among registered people who don't know what his deal might be.

And maybe it's nothing, anyway. He wouldn't be the first rifty to just plain be paranoid.

"Maybe other people have dealt with things you don't get," he points out. He huffs and shakes his head, still cleaving to a sense of duty telling him to stay here and help Tim deal with his...tree...thing, but also trying to decide whether that was a threat just now.

[postictal]

He looks away for a minute, swallowing hard, fighting back the choking sensation of guilt. It's ridiculous. He shouldn't be -

"I get that," Tim answers. "I do. And believe me when I say that I wish -" He forces himself to look the guy in the eyes, straining for some sincerity. He's not a liar. He's not. He's just - he's just trying to not fuck something up for once. For once. Let him deal with this, oh god let him deal with this and not have it - all of it - come back to bite him in the ass.

"It's not a permanent solution," he says quietly, carefully. "I know that. And it's not meant to be. It's just until I can find someplace - better," he finishes vaguely, opening a hand.

[stronglikebear]

That...doesn't really solve the original problem, and it doesn't really reassure Yuri. He's somewhat mollified, though, by Tim's implied promise to eventually stop living the way he has been, even if it doesn't sound like he means to actually come clean. Yuri sighs and rubs his neck. It isn't going to help if he pushes really hard, but he can't help but try.

"Just, you know," he says, "maybe people could help you if you gave them a chance."

[postictal]

He looks to be backing off. That's - good. Hopefully he won't go reporting him to the Base, or whatever it is people aligned with the Rebels do. He doesn't know if that's a thing. He doesn't care. He wishes he hadn't shared as much as he did but he hadn't been thinking, he hadn't been focused on what was important. He'd been too preoccupied over trying to breathe for all the goddamn trees.

In the end, it hadn't really been anything. Just Tim. Stupid, panicking Tim with his dishonesty and his paranoia.

"Yeah," he says darkly. "Haven't heard that one before."

Of course, he's now kind of living with the last guy who tried, repeatedly and unsuccessfully, to help.

Well. Tim's always known he's a fucking hypocrite.

He takes a short breath and holds out his hand, palm flat.

"I'd like my lighter back."

[stronglikebear]

And more weird hostility, okay. Yuri beetles his brow at Tim, more than a little hurt and annoyed that he won't even try to let what worked for Yuri work for him, that he's being so -- so -- standoffish. That he's rapidly changed his mind about the lighter is unsettling, but it is his lighter even if Yuri feels uneasy as he digs in his pocket for it.

"Yeah," he says curtly, putting it in Tim's hand. "Here. Seriously, if you just -- you can look me up, when you're awake." Tim should look him up when he's awake, is what he means.

[postictal]

Great, so now he's pissed him off. Tim's just so good at that, isn't he? He can even pinpoint the exact moment the conversation went south, and that was when it turned personal. People asking questions. Questions about Tim, and Tim's life, and topics he shouldn't be disclosing. He should have gone for the tired lies. Those are always safer.

He shoves the thing back in his pocket without giving it a second look.

"I'll think on it." It just comes so fucking naturally to him, the distant neutrality, dodging the questions. "Right now I think I'm just gonna - yeah."

With an evasive shrug of one shoulder, he ducks out of the weird spherical treehouse and starts navigating the stairs up and away, praying the guy won't follow. Tim's got enough problems without getting on the bad side of his indirect providers.

[stronglikebear]

Yuri turns, ducking to stick his own head and shoulders out the door and watch Tim go, brow furrowed tight enough it'll start hurting his face if he keeps it up. Tim, he repeats to himself mentally. Lives with Jay, who always has a camera.

Hopefully he'll remember this in the morning.