13 ◦ [audio]
[Schneizel's voice is calm, composed, as ever. It is, perhaps, a little more drawn than usual, as if he's speaking part to himself. Such is only to be expected, after all - it's difficult not to be affected by those dreams, and even he is not immune.]The presentation was different this time, but they had the same herald. The dreams - I wonder, did
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Are you saying this has happened before? [ Not that what Schneizel said was unclear, but this is what happens when Guilford wakes up in a cold sweat, and with more confusion than he thought healthy. So many questions, and none of them made any sense. ]
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[His tone is more even now, smoother, like the topic calms his own unease. Whether or not that's the case, or if he's putting on the calm, or, indeed, was putting on the unease, is debateable.]
They manifested quite differently last time, however. Instead of being shown to us all in one, residents became... visitors, in the dreams of others.
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Though I am skeptical of such an idea being the truth, I cannot deny what I saw.
[ Rubbing his forehead. This was most frustrating. ] As you asked, I wore the crown to sleep, and my visions were numerous and lucid. It is my hope that another might have had some success at keeping these dreams at bay, and is willing to share their methods.
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[A pause, a little sigh, as if Guilford's frustration and unease are shared on some level. It's not untrue.]
None were yours, however?
[It isn't really a question.]
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Are there any we know who were unaffected?
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I'm sure there's something we could learn from them.
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Doubtlessly.
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The silence continues. She swallows, and one finger hovers over the key that will end the connection for a few seconds before she makes up her mind to form a response.]
That sort of thing has happened before. [It isn't a question. He's already made it clear that it has. But at least the small talk will fill the silence.] How often? Were you targeted last time as well?
The crown was in my grasp while I slept and I do not recall any of the dreams I might have had.
[She pauses, wanting to ask if he's okay, but she already knows that even if, by some small chance, he isn't, he will see to it that she never knows ( ... )
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Once, as far as any of us here remember. I did dream last time, also -
[ - of Clovis, he almost says. Of youth. Youth seems to be a recurring factor, but that's entirely unsurprising.]
In that case, even those without their own dreams experience those belonging to others... and the experiencing itself may be universal amongst us.
[There's a sigh followed by a moment more of quiet, as if she knows what she wished to ask, knows and is considering answering regardless, for better or worse.
Instead, he smiles thinly.]
Relevenance, Cornelia? To what end?
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[That isn't really what she means. She wonders whether the dream had any relevance to how he views himself, his life, the inner demons he surely faces for soiling his hands and his innocence in the name of Britannia. She wonders if there is a greater meaning that one should take from it. Regrets. Insecurities. Contrition. But that's not what she voices now.]
Does that mean this incident was no different than the last?
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It seemed like a bittersweet metaphor, but as to any streak of prophecy... I couldn't say.
[And he trails off, sounding a little frustrated at that. Being so marooned, so without his usual control, is not something he enjoys.]
The delivery was different, but the incident itself remains largely the same.
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