dreamwalk two | ota

[firstroar]

CHARACTERS: Blue, any sleepin folks out there
LOCATION: Someone's subconscious
DATE: Late Oct/Early Nov, pre-mission things
CONTENT: Psychics gon' psychic, dreams gon' dream...it's free dream/memshare real estate
WARNINGS: none in the tl; tagged as needed

---

It happens one of two ways:

outside

When he sleeps, Blue's subconscious stretches itself outward, instinctively drawn to things familiar to itself: Feelings, imagery, names...bonds already made or half-formed. It's in a Mu's nature to connect in this way, to be linked in thought and emotion, and this happens even in sleeping. The universe he hails from lacks much of the color and diversity and freedoms of others', but there are common lived experiences to be tethered to, for better or worse.

Peril and pain, longing and loss, hope and harmony...while Blue reprocesses his own volume of them, he unconsciously seeks out meaning in those notions which might flicker throughout the station in minds other than his own.

That means a routine recollection or predictable dream comes with something new this time.

inside

The door swings both ways, for when Blue is asleep, he can't consciously keep it locked, can he? So those who have even a passing capability to perceive matters of the mind or heart, be it magic or something more, could find themselves drifting out of their own dreamspace and into his own, where pastel marble floors mold effortlessly with sheer metal surfaces dappled with clouds that shouldn't hold any weight, let alone a person's.

It's where the sky is no sky, but a gaping field of stars not unlike the view outside a station window...save for the massive, red planet crowning the horizon. Beyond it, a pale blue dot no bigger than what Earth's moon would be glimmers in the dark. A lyre's strings are plucked from some unseen place, filling the place as one would fill a vast, empty room, and Soldier Blue stands at the edge of the horizon in his old, familiar vestments and headgear, absorbed in...something...until the shuddering of the dream's veil prompts him to acknowledge the presence passing through.

Red eyes turn to fix on the interloper, unsure of what they are perceiving yet.

This is still simply a dream, after all.

Comments

[petsthedog]

[Shinjiro jerks backward when he is touched, the particular circumstances of this memory making the feel of hands on his shoulders akin to a red-hot brand. The roof didn't collapse on Blue even as he stood in the path of the debris, but the dream still has just enough of a hold, because this is a thread of thought that hasn't left him since the day it occurred--he's dangerous. He has to keep his distance, for others' safety. He is especially unsafe right now, with Castor rampaging again and again in the distance.

The fear has not faded along with the pain; any moment now, his subconscious says, it could start all over again. He could end up killing this man, and then what would he do? He cannot bear the thought.]

D-don't touch me.

[Memory, dream, or reality, he'd rather suffer it than let anyone else do so. After a moment's breath, he tries again, a little more steadily:]

Where do we go?

[firstroar]

[Blue remains in place even as the boy - well, he's less a boy by the moment, isn't he? - flinches, hands lingering where they had lain for but a moment.]

Walking from this moment may lead us somewhere different. But it won't change until we move, will it? [after all, nothing changed until he moved in here.]

[petsthedog]

[Somewhere different. Shinjiro takes a moment to look back over his shoulder, watching Castor crash into walls behind him. There's a thread of guilt that tells him no, he shouldn't leave. He deserves to stay here, forever, because what has been done can never be forgotten.

But he is tired, and the man -- Blue, he'd said -- does not belong here, either. He should not be forced to bear witness to this tragedy over and over.]

Okay.

[He says, and he steps forward, back into the street. Echoes of the Ximilia are still out in the distance, but they don't feel reachable, from here. Only the painful stillness of the streets backlit with green sky, water turned to blood.

Even as he leads the first couple steps, they're hesitant, as though waiting for this strange man to show them where they have to go next.]

[firstroar]

[Blue lingers near enough to touch him, but doesn't move to do so. as uncertainty reverberates from Shinjiro's form, it prompts Blue to take a longer stride forward to match pace beside him, eyes forward.

the dubious trust placed in him...Blue has to take care of it. so while the echoes of horror become just that - echoes - he won't erase them entirely. doing so...is the source of his own regret, is the reason he can even be here, after all.

bloodied concrete and debris gives way to smoother, marble-like surfaces, and the cruel light of day blooms to something paler, more artificial. Blue imposes memories on his own to draw out ahead of them, placing them along a wide corridor. to their right, the windows are filled with stars - a sight that can easily tie into and relate to Shinjiro's own familiarity with the Ximilia.

what is different, however, is the gentle, distant plucking of lyre strings - something to counter the nightmarish echo.]

[petsthedog]

[As the Dark Hour fades behind them, Shinjiro looks around at the new scenery surrounding them. It is indeed reminiscent of the Ximilia, though it's unlike those flashes of the crew before. There is nobody else here but them.

...And whoever is playing the lyre, he supposes. It's certainly a far cry from the raucous chords of the electric guitar Newt's partial to.]

Where is this?

[Asked carefully; he does not like talking about his own past, and he does not mean to trespass upon someone else's.]

[firstroar]

I've brought us to a memory of mine. [as if that wasn't obvious, but who knows? dreams are funny things.] The Shangri-La.

This was my home for hundreds of years.

[petsthedog]

{Blue gives the name of the place, but those last two syllables are particularly difficult to pronounce for him, and he gives up on it before even making the attempt.

It helps that he's handily distracted by the second part.]

You're hundreds of years old?

[This guy doesn't even look much older than him??? What the heckie.]

[firstroar]

[Blue smiles.]

Yes. My kind seem to live much longer than humans do, and most stop aging after a certain point. There are some exceptions, but...not many as far as we've discovered.

[to that point, they pass by some figments of people who look much older, dressed much the same as Blue is. there are faint, colored auras around each - the colors Blue can perceive with his extra sense.]

Are there only humans where you are from, then? [he's not sure he'd consider what monster anything remotely like a persona, after all.]

[petsthedog]

Pretty much, yeah.

[He does not count Personas and Shadows in this question because they're not what he considers people, whereas Blue clearly is.]

So you're...basically immortal, then?

[Some people might see that as a blessing, or something to be envious of; Shinjiro mostly finds himself thinking that would be exhausting. He has not even reached a tenth of this man's lifespan and he is tired down to his bones.]

[firstroar]

Oh, I...I doubt that's true. I don't know how long, but surely...we'll find our end, just as humans do. [naturally or unnaturally.]

No one's seen the full, natural lifespan of a Mu yet. Perhaps they will learn it one day.

[or those aboard Ximilia will. but that doesn't seem to be useful information to them, does it?

he won't linger on it for much longer, in any case. the corridor leads them into a greater opening lined with artificial grass and winding walkways, ringed by a tremendously high ceiling. the sun room on steroids, in a way.]

This is the kind of place...that would come to mind when the children had their terrors and nightmares. They could run to us here in dreaming and be consoled.

[petsthedog]

[None of them have ever died of old age, despite living hundreds of years. But they might've died for other reasons, it sounds like. Shinjiro doesn't press on the matter, at least not just yet.]

...That's nice.

[He can't remember the last time he had a safe place like that. He would've been a very small child -- the orphanage might have fed and sheltered him, but it certainly wasn't a place that went out of its way to nurture and raise its kids.

He isn't a child tho, he's already eighteen. Don't get it twisted :V]

That mean your dreams are always connected, or what?

[firstroar]

Not always, but often. As connected as our thoughts are at any given time. Sometimes we wish to think on things on our own...but even alone, we are rarely far from someone else.

[and with the way Blue speaks of it, it's a comforting thing.]

Though it is strange...straying into a human dream. I wonder if, somehow...you called me.

[petsthedog]

Wait, seriously? You're all in each other's heads most of the time?

[The man makes it sound like a good thing, but all Shinjiro can think is how miserable it is to exist within his own mind, and for that to seep out into everyone around him just by virtue of existing. He already tries to keep a distance to ease that burden, but on the Ximilia there is nowhere to run away to. He must share this space if he is to undo his regret.]

Sounds exhausting.

[He rubs at his neck, glancing away.]

...Geez, hope I ain't your first human dream. Shitty as hell introduction.

[firstroar]

[Blue looks over with a gentle smile.]

It's true that...I don't understand that terrible memory, but I understand the feelings behind it. Those aren't different between us, Mu and humans. So even though it wasn't a happy thing to encounter...I'm grateful for the chance to help. Even if only for a moment.

cw for passive suicidal feelings

[petsthedog]

[Shinjiro can feel his cheeks grow hot at that assertion. Grateful for the chance to help. Had he truly projected that he was in such need of it...? That's embarrassing. He doesn't want anyone to help him. Doesn't think he deserves it, frankly. He just wants to undo his regret and be finished with things if he can, see them through as long as he needs to otherwise.]

...The kid's the one that needs the help. You saw that woman back there--she was his mom. That's why I'm here.

[firstroar]

[Blue's expression sobers as that understanding settles in.

to save that woman...his regret...

...wait...

he frowns. there's not enough understanding here.]

But...you weren't...the one who did that. [standing there yelling, that...that isn't the trigger.]

[petsthedog]

[Shinjiro shakes his head.]

No, it was my fault. That thing came from my soul. I lost control of 'im that night. He didn't stop thrashin' like that 'til I passed out from the strain.

[firstroar]

[from his...soul?

Blue gives him a more careful look.]

...It is not psionic. [unless it is some breed yet unknown to his senses. possible, but--] I don't understand.

dw where is my fuckin notif

[petsthedog]

[wtf is a psionic]

No, it's a Persona. They're from my world. Only a handful of us who can summon 'em.

[It would be easier just to show him, but even if Shinjiro didn't typically have reservations about using Castor outside of intense life or death emergency, he especially isn't in a place to do it right now, after the memory of the fourth.]

anti-mu activity again smh

[firstroar]

[true enough: prying too far could lead that foul memory back into the forefront, negating all the effort put through right now.]

I've never encountered such a thing before... [but then, Shinjiro never heard of a Mu either!]

But the ferocity of those emotions...that moment...that's precisely what pulled you into the Ximilia.

I'm so sorry.

cw: suicidal feelings, self-loathing

[petsthedog]

[It's that last bit that seems to hit a sore point; something in the line of his shoulders tightens, and he looks off to the side, uncomfortable.]

Why're you sorry for me? I'm the one who fucked up.

[Shinjiro has never been able to be kind to himself about this. He rejects it from others, because it feels like a dismissal. He should get over it and move on, should stop blaming himself, should stop feeling so much guilt. Should, should, should. He should have just died in Japan and stopped existing already, but he's already more than aware that most things are not as they should be.]

Spend your sympathy on someone who actually deserves it.

[firstroar]

[Blue's gaze is unflinching in light of this, as though almost by instinct, but it's rather because he sees the negativity influencing that recoil. Shinjiro's case is something new in many glaring ways, but...feelings seem to be the same, universe to universe.]

...I didn't sense intent there. In that memory. The intention to do harm.

You...didn't want to do that, did you?

[petsthedog]

[Again. There it is again. Even if Blue wasn't literally within his mind right now, he would likely be able to feel the surge of frustration that flares out from Shinjiro. It's always the same. You didn't mean to, it was an accident, when are you going to move on?

Maybe that's why he clings to his relationship with Erik despite the discomfort it causes them both; he's the only one who doesn't fling the words you didn't mean to at him like they're a kindness. The only one that seems to understand the suffering he caused regardless of what he wanted.

He takes a deep breath. Two. Digs his nails into his hands until angry red marks bloom on his palm. He doesn't want to yell at this guy who eased a stranger out of the nightmare they were having apparently just because he could, but it's hard. He's carried this misery in his heart for so long and he is so tired. Should Blue actually reach out, look further than the currently overflowing surface, a high tide on the beach -- he will find an endless ocean of grief and despair, poisoned through with guilt. Guilt is so pervasive in this psyche it seems to taint every fiber of him, as though if it were taken away he might simply crumple like a marionette doll with its strings cut.

He simply breathes until the urge to shout passes; his voice is terribly quiet when he finally answers:]

That doesn't matter. It was my fault. Intentions don't make her less dead.

[firstroar]

[of all the things to feel familiarity with, a survivor's guilt is nothing new or surprising here, especially given what he'd witnessed upon arriving here. there's a moment there where he does fear having to brace against that surging tide, but this is clearly not a new type of encounter for the boy.

...boy is right: he's still quite young, isn't he? too young. yet another world where children are subject to horrors...it makes Blue's heart ache.]

No, they don't. [...] But to encounter someone...suffering so much for such a thing...would you not sympathize, yourself?

[he shakes his head a little.]

It isn't my place to say you're absolved; absolution is...such a personal thing, after all. And it's not something I can give you.

[petsthedog]

[Shinjiro shakes his head.]

I ain't got any business judgin' anyone else, but I ain't gonna feel sorry for 'em either, if that's what you mean.

[Sympathy and pity are so easy to entangle, especially when all feelings have been soaked so thoroughly in guilt and self-loathing.]

Suffering... [He scoffs, hands shoved roughly in his pockets.] Yeah, right. I'm the one that ruined that kid's life, not the other way around.

[It's a twisted aspect to how he sees himself, a refusal to acknowledge his own pain, as though it would diminish his culpability to do so. It does not take psionic power to see the wreckage that night has left of Shinjiro, but as always, he defers to the guilt--the only emotion he allows himself to lay claim to.]