(Untitled)

[marreddreams]

[Tonight was promising to be a quiet night in the dressing room. The Tykis may be lounging in the miscellaneous bars and pubs, and the Allens are probably curled up in piles of blankets. Who knows where the Crosses are, but that's nothing new. And Lavis? Well... they're probably head-first in a book, drooling and getting ink on themselves. Yes,

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[sleepingpath]

[He's standing in a hallway. Or, rather, poking his head out of a bedroom doorway, looking down a hall. There's the unmistakable smell of cinnamon, cedar, coffee, and chocolate chip cookies wafting from the staircase at the end of it, and he's quite excited about this.]

[It's more like a memory, than a dream. One that's been tucked away for a long, long time.]

[selfdeluded]

[And look who's there beside him now, peering down that hallway. If it were anyone else - he'd get the hell out of there, because he knows this is Road's doing. It's her. It makes his eye ache and sets his bones on edge, but--

...but it was Sleeper. Hobo wasn't leaving him alone in Road's world.] ...It smells nice.

Wow, I mucked that one up badly.

[sleepingpath]

[There's a very soft, and very quiet voice in Hobollen's right ear, like a little girl's (but not Road's) whisper: We're safe here... Should Hobollen turn in that direction, he'll see a little girl in a pink nightie standing there, blond hair falling in perfect ringlets around her face.]

[Sleeper looks up at her first, grinnning, and then turns the smile toward Hobollen.] I think it's Christmas.

No worries dude.

[selfdeluded]

[It actually startles him, that whisper, and he does indeed whirl around expecting to see Road-- but the little girl standing there instead makes him pause and stare in a slightly baffled sort of way.

But. But Sleeper seems to know her. And she doesn't seem like Road as far as he can tell.. so he turns his gaze back to Sleeper and smiles just slightly in return.] ...Christmas Eve? Or Christmas day?

;;

[sleepingpath]

[Not Road. Probably no one he's met before. But she does grin at him, and give him a little wave. Hi!]

[Sleeper steps out of the doorway, wearing a pair of very warm-looking flannel pajamas. The little girl scurries toward him and wraps her arms around his middle. He doesn't hug back, but he doesn't look particularly disturbed by this.]

It's Christmas day. Smell the cookies?

<3

[selfdeluded]

[She certainly doesn't look familiar. But Sleeper seems.. comfortable with her, so he won't question her place in this dream. Not yet. He inclines his head to the wave, but does little else.]

Is that how you tell? [Blinks. He can't really remember celebrating Christmas. But there are a lot of things he can't remember.]

...Are you going to go down?

[sleepingpath]

Yeah! Mum's making them. Come on, I'm sure there will be some for you too!

[Sleeper steps on ahead of Hobollen, the little girl still clinging to his middle with her cheek against his back. Look closely. It looks like there's blood dripping down from the back of her head.]

[selfdeluded]

I wasn't exactly invited... [but he smiles slightly anyway, moving to follow after Sleeper - until, that is, he notices the blood, soaking through those blond ringlets, and he freezes. No, no-- he should have known not to trust her, and now she was holding on to Sleeper. Damn it. Damn it. He steps forward quickly, though, not wanting for Sleeper and the child to get ahead of him, and reaches a hand out towards the other's shoulder.]

Allen--

[sleepingpath]

Mum always makes more than we need, it'll be fine. [The girl lets out a gasp and hugs tighter to Sleeper, giving Hobollen a frightened sort of look that seems to ask, "Are you taking him away?" Still, Sleeper doesn't seem to know she's there at all.]

[Hobollen's hand ghosts straight through her when it meets Sleeper's shoulder, and Sleeper turns around, giving the other a confused sort of look.]

Are you coming?

[selfdeluded]

[And that look makes him pause, especially so when his hand seems to go right through her - he pulls back immediately, almost worried he might have... harmed her being there somehow, until he realizes he shouldn't think that at all, she might be dangerous.

...Still. She seems a lot more worried about losing Sleeper than she does intending to cause him harm.] O-oh... yes, of course.

[He spares the girl another glance though, uncertain of what to tell her, before taking one of Sleeper's hands and heading down the stairs.]

[sleepingpath]

[Sleeper leads the way, heading down the stairs. Despite how much she's clinging to him, she seems to keep up with him with perfect ease. The stairs spill out into a kitchen, filled with the smell of baking chocolate chip cookies. There's a plate on the table that's full of them, fresh-bakes and warm. Sleeper grabs the plate and holds it up.]

Here! You get first choice.

[The girl peeks around Sleeper and looks up at Hobollen with an expectant look. Mama makes 'em best.]

[selfdeluded]

[Despite himself, he occasionally glances at the girl as they head down the stairs, but when they get to the kitchen the smell is enough to make his mouth water a bit. Loves baked goods when they're still warm. >:

He pauses when Sleeper holds up the plate, of course, not... really used to being offered things 'first'. It seems odd. But he smiles slightly, uncertainly, and takes a cookie off the top of the pile.] Thank you. [He takes a bite, though the girl... the odd whispering, it makes him frown, even if the cookie is probably the best cookie he's ever had. ...Sleeper's sister..?]

[sleepingpath]

[The little girl nods, as if having heard the internal question, and buries her nose even moreso into Sleeper's back. If Hobollen's listening close enough, he may even hear a little giggle, like a lingering sound in the back of his mind.]

[The cookie may very well be the best-tasting cookie Hobollen's ever tasted - likely a reflection of the limited memories that Sleeper does have of being young and innocent. Sleeper nods and grins as Hobollen takes a bite of his cookie, and snatches one for himself.]

It's almost time for presents. [He moves to pour two more glasses of milk and slides one to Hobollen before snatching one more cookie.]

[selfdeluded]

[He's doing his best to listen, really, even if the voices in the back of his skull are just the slightest bit alarming, and so he does hear the giggle, however quiet. So... Sleeper had a sister. A... a dead little sister. But how old was he supposed to be while this dream was happening..?

Truth be told, he's never had a homemade cookie. His mother was a terrible cook, one of her few faults, and his father... mum didn't let him use the kitchen, he remembers, though he's not sure why. They ate out a lot.]

O-oh-- do you think your mum would mind if I stayed...? [He finishes off that cookie and grabs another, taking the glass of milk that was poured for him with a quick word of thanks.]

[sleepingpath]

[Sleeper isn't likely to remember this dream - even if he could, it isn't likely he'd even remember how old he was at all. He takes a moment to gulp down half a glass of milk before answering.]

... Mum? Of course she wouldn't! You probably have some presents under the tree, too!

[He grins again and swipes a third cookie before leading the way into a living room. It looks more like a study, than a living room, given how the hearth in the fireplace is wall-to-wall and has bookshelves carved into the brick. The tree in the corner is huge and decorated in white lights and tinsel and crystal ornaments. And there are presents everywhere. All shapes, sizes, and colors. There are even stockings, too, hanging over the fireplace. Five, actually. Four of them look like they might have had names on them, but the lettering as been smudged. The fifth has the name "Allen

[selfdeluded]

...Oh.. ah, that's-- Thanks. [Because how else do you react to potentially having presents under someone else's tree? It seems rather odd.

Sipping tentatively at the milk for a moment, before he sets the glass down and follows Sleeper into the living room, nibbling on his second cookie along the way. The sheer amount of presents is a little bit amazing - no, the whole room is a little amazing - and when Sleeper reaches through the sleeping old man, it isn't quite as surprising as it had been the first time around with the little girl.

He takes the stocking offered to him a bit awkwardly, holding on with both hands as though uncertain of just what to do with it, and when he glances over at the little girl a frown tugs at his features. He pauses, shifting his weight, before stepping over to the hearth and tugging the small stocking free. He sets it down for the little girl, and then moves to plop down on the floor beside Sleeper's ottoman.] ...Shouldn't you have the one that says Allen?