Dreamscape Event

[dreams_are_mine]

Characters: Rhode Kamelot and OPEN
When: Every night March 6th through 12th
Where: Rhode's dreams
Rating: R+
Summary: Rhode dreams. You dream with her.

Comments

[dreams_are_mine]

It may be a jarring transition, from table to a cliff, overlooking a coach on a road below. What might be even more jarring for Tyki is seeing himself standing there, shuffling a pack of cards, dressed up in his fancy clothes. Beside him is Rhode, carrying Lero, here eyes fixed on the prey below.

The scene carries out like a memory, the two of them ambushing an old man--a fierce Exorcist General as it turns out. Rhode fights, briefly, before Tyki takes over and subdues their victim. Rhode has her fun, and Tyki--not the one dreaming, but the one in the dream--watches in amusement before eventually stopping her and ensuring the General will die slowly in agony, leaving him hanging on a cross for his comrades to find.

The problem with the dream memory, as pleasant as the sensation of killing must be, is that it's never happened. Not for Tyki anyway. Still, the emotions in the dream are upbeat, thrilling. It's hardly an unpleasant dream to have--maybe it's a wishful thought, because there's no tension there. Rhode clings to the Tyki in the dream, scolding and bantering and laughing just as they ought to be.

There's no looming weight of pressure or feeling of being trapped. The scene is freedom itself, bloody and exhilarating.

Especially the moment in the dream where Tyki crushes the Innocence, all of them that the General carried, into a fine powder and scatters it to the winds. There's relief there, of something hated being dealt with.

[sleightofhearts]

Most certainly jarring. For a moment, Tyki almost doesn't recognize himself; his fingers curl in an anticipatory way, silently asking who the bloke is that gets to play these games - for they are the ~best kind~ of games - with Rhode. As soon as he fully recognizes who it is, however, he frowns. This isn't like any of his dreams. He can't recall ever dreaming about himself like this. It hasn't quite dawned on him that this may not be his dream after all, but he isn't quite in the right state of mind to think about that yet.

The Innocence erupts into a cloud of fine green dust and scatters in the wind, and Tyki closes his own fist; he's half-expecting to feel it in his own palm. When it isn't there, he opens his fist again and stares at the empty gloved hand. There's a brief moment where his breath catches in his throat at the nostalgic feeling of... freedom, good fucking God, freedom... and he finds himself choking on his own air.

It is not unlike the way water flows over a rockbed, the prickling feeling in his spine, like hundreds of thousands of electrical pinpricks. Bloodlust. How long has it been since he last felt it? How badly did he want it right now? Tyki doesn't realize his hands are starting to shake until he brings one up to run his fingers over his hair.

He inhales sharply, feeling cold seep into his lungs. This is what it was all about; this was always what it was all about. The thrill of stained gloves and petticoats, the sound of screaming and the sound of pain. It's exhilarating, thrilling -- the best he's felt in months. A part of him doesn't know what to do with it. The other part wants to toy more with the bloody, mangled body of the unknown General that his dream-self left behind.

And why not? It was something he could fucking choose to do.

Tyki steps off the cliff and strides along the air, intent to prowl down to the valley below while his other hand fishes for a cigarette.

[dreams_are_mine]

As Tyki steps down through the air the sky darkens, night falling too fast in the way of dreams. A full moon rises, casting everything in start black and white and grays. It's a very striking image, but it obscures the figure dying on the cross until the moment Tyki stops before it.

It's no longer the old General with his droopy mustache and bloody coat hanging crucified. The man on the cross is a teenager, and when he lifts golden eyes to meet Tyki's, blood flows down his face and hands--stigmata and crucifixion. The face of the teenager should be familiar enough, it's Tyki's own.

But the kid doesn't seem to be in pain. A grin stretches across his face, impossibly wide, and as he opens his mouth the whole world and sky seem to be engulfed, leaving his toothy smile the grinning moon, and Tyki standing in a large room with a high ceiling, a long haired man bent over in a chair, face buried in his hands, hidden. Shattered glass litters the floor, and the man in the chair is shirtless, a cross shaped scar marring his flesh.

Rhode sits at the edge of the room, staring at nothing, face and legs bleeding, a lollipop to her lips but obviously not really paying attention to the candy.

And no wonder, the pain the figure on the chair is experiencing is palpable.

[sleightofhearts]

The sound of his own teeth gritting is deafening between his ears. Christ, that was so long ago. And yet the pain from it is unforgettable. Tyki reaches out to touch the boy's face, except the dream changes before he can really get the chance to do so -- probably for the better, his hands are shaking even more, and he would really rather not dirty his gloves.

He finds himself having to look over his shoulder in order to see the scarred man. His eyes narrow at the sight of it, and he brings his hand back (why was it still outstretched?) to unconsciously run his fingers over the hollow of his throat, and down his chest. It's prickling in an uncomfortable way. Painful.

And then he spots Rhode, and stops. None of this is familiar. By all means, it should be familiar, but Tyki cannot for the life of him understand why. His shoes squeak on the floor as he steps toward her and crouches down.

"Rhode. What is this?"

[dreams_are_mine]

“Tell me Rhode. Please. What is this feeling...?” The words were spoken at the same time as Tyki spoke, in the same voice, from the man on the chair. Glass crunches beneath Tyki's boots as he crouches before the little girl, but when she looks at him it's not really like she's seeing him.

She lifts a hand and touches his cheek, staring through him almost. "It's okay, Tyki." She says gently, reassuring.

"It'll get better." A promise.

There's a noise, an inaudible whispering in the back ground. A maddening sort of chatter just at the edge of hearing.

[sleightofhearts]

The fact that it is his own voice he hears when his dream-self starts talking makes him start, and his head snaps up to look at the man. So the man was... him? But he hardly resembled him at all.

What.... what did this all mean?

It's okay, Tyki... and then there is a hand on his cheek. He turns back to Rhode, not bothering to move his face from her fingers. They're cool, comforting; but the tone in her voice sends a trickle of... something... down his spine that Tyki does not like at all. It'll get better...

He tips his cheek further into her hand, and reaches out to brush at the blood on her cheek. Color flushes across the fabric, a stark contrast to the white; it's starting to dawn on him, in a vague way that dreams are wont to allow, the significance of this. And he doesn't like it. At all.

"Rhode. I--" he stops, turning away from her hand again and in the direction of the whispering.

[dreams_are_mine]

The shards of glass on the floor are melting, flowing together like mercury, a silver, shifting, poisonous shape that slowly rises and begins to resolve into a man-like form. The only features of the creature are it's wide, inhuman grin, a predatory aura.

And the increased sound of sibilant murmuring--it's in a language that's so old it's no longer spoken, impossible to recognize and at the same time familiar. Something that Tyki might feel he should recognize and understand, even though it might as well be gibberish.

"Tyki?" Rhode's voice is started, surprised, and the scene pauses, freezing in place, silence falling abruptly, like a freeze frame or photo. The only movement and sound comes from Tyki and Rhode, except Rhode seems to have changed when Tyki looked away from her. She's in her school uniform, and there's no blood. She touches Tyki again, and this time she's looking at him directly.

"What are you doing here?"

[sleightofhearts]

Tyki fixes the mercury-silver thing with an intense gaze. He thinks he knows what this is - who this is, or, at least, who it will be. It makes his teeth ache, and fingers tingle.

Despite that, he doesn't move from where he is. His eyes narrow, and he opens his mouth to speak, but the scene is changing and Rhode is talking. Tyki turns back to look at her, cheek still in her hand.

"You called me here, didn't you?" At least, that's what he thinks. He's figured out in the last few moments that this isn't any of his dreams - that man... this just couldn't be one of his dreams. So why else would he be here?

[dreams_are_mine]

The scene is dissolving, fading like a photograph. Rhode looks confused, a little disturbed.

"I didn't call Tyki." She didn't call anyone. She doesn't usually bring people here. Dreams are her heart and soul, it's very personal to have someone traipsing about inside them. Not that she minds Tyki being here, but she didn't bring him, and he shouldn't have been able to come on his own, right?

She leans forward, to loop her arms around his shoulders, happy to see him, even if she's confused by his presence.

[sleightofhearts]

"... what?"

It's the only thing he can think to say, to ask. If she didn't call for him... why was he here?

He loops his arm around her, though, and even straightens her shirt a little (a lady must have at least a little modesty, after all) as he lifts her up.

"Rhode... what's happening?"

[dreams_are_mine]

She never cares, but it always pleases her that he fusses over her modesty. She makes it a point, sometimes, to be just a little more flamboyant because she always knows he'll take care of her. It's one of her games with herself.

Right now she just holds on to him though, confused as she settles in his arms.

She was off--mentally away, with Lucifer. They had victims to gather, and that's what she had been doing. But then why was Tyki in her dreams? It's impossible he wandered there accidentally.

"I don't know." But she intends to find out. The scene shifts, leaving them in the den of Cyril's mansion, lounging on a comfortable couch, Rhode in Tyki's arms and a dream Cyril fussing about at his desk as Rhode splits her attention--from this dream, with Tyki, to reaching out to find out what's happening, why he's here. She seems to grow distant as she does, a little transparent in his arms, still attentive enough to keep her mind from trying to eat him--or worse, embrace him--but not quite there all the same.

[sleightofhearts]

Tyki's brow furrows at the sight of dream-Cyril; he has to remind himself that the weird feeling in his gut is simply from eating another raw fish and not because he might miss his brother at all.

And for a moment, he seems occupied enough by the scene that he might as well have been a part of it, until he feels her shift. It isn't a pleasant feeling. Even though he knows what she's doing, he attempts to tighten his grip on her anyway. Don't leave.

[dreams_are_mine]

She's distant and occupied for a while anyway, returning to herself after a while to frown and crawl on top of Tyki more firmly.

"We were doing something. But they interfered. Somethings wrong with dreams." It disturbs and upsets her, actually, because this isn't her doing and she has no power over it.

[sleightofhearts]

His first question, naturally, is, "Who's 'we'?" But he doesn't ask. He has the feeling he knows, and the expression on his face darkens because of it. You see? He knew that guy was bad news.

Without thinking, he draws her closer. Perhaps, he's reacting to her displeasure. "I'm not supposed to be here." Merely... repeating what she's saying, only in so many words.

[dreams_are_mine]

She leans against him, sprawls on his lap, frowning with that same distant confusion. "No." she agrees. "But I like Tyki's company." It's not to make him feel better. She really does like that he's here. It's surprising, unexpected, but not unwelcome.

"Did you want to wake up?" She looks at him. She has, after all, taken him along in her dreams before--or has she yet? She can't remember. Either way she won't keep him if he'd rather return to himself.