Dion't blame the moon, it only glows

[lest_ye_become]

Another night comes to the station. Or night cycle, anyway. And with it come the usual phantasmagorias of sleep... though tonight, there's something special. Here and there might be a shape out the corner of an eye, or a figure glimpsed dimly in the distance. Closer-up it's a thing like an adult, womanly shape, carved out of shadow and specks of

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[wheelsandbeats]

In his dream, it isn't Tavros who notices the interloper. Tinkerbull does. Unfortunately, even in Tavros's dreams, his lusus is nearly useless. The warning noises the bull offers to Tavros are drowned out by the sound of hooves and the last of the other riders disemboweling herself messily.

k1LL METhe words appear scrawled across Tinkerbull's side, this time in the blood colour they share. If he wasn't already crying his eyes out, he probably would have started again as he dismounted, walked a few steps-of course he could walk, why wouldn't he be able to?-and skewered his guardian without a moment's hesitation. As his lance hit, an infinitely long, thin lance pierces him from the sky, passing clean through his stomach and jabbing into the ground. His knees give out and the boy slides down to the ground with a cry

[wheelsandbeats]

"Oh." He could accept that explanation. Why not? There was just one more weird thing on top of the hundreds he had experienced. "So you were just checking me, then, just in case? Do you always do that when people are having, er, dreams, such as the one I was having?"

Which is to say nightmares. Bad, awful nightmares.

[lest_ye_become]

"The intensity got my attention, that's all." Outside, the mer-accountants seem to be having a dance-off with a group of bipedal clams. "Wild dreams are my glory, when I have the time to seen them." The star-figure reaches over to edge one of the windows open, since it's a little stuffy in the submarine. The water very conscientiously stays outside. "It's very busy work, most of the time."

[wheelsandbeats]

He emitted a little worried noise when she moved to open the window, but relaxed when the water failed to take advantage of the opening. He thought he was starting to get the hang of dream logic. Or the lack of it.

"So, you probably don't have a lot of free time, then." A hopeful little idea died before it could reach fruition. Oh well. He barely hesitated before continuing: "Are there a lot of them, then, uh, these creatures, and what are they like? Do they talk?"

Getting to know a monster as cool as those might be really interesting, assuming they were susceptible to his psychic abilities.

[lest_ye_become]

"They have white eyes-solid white-but if one speaks, it would be better to carve your ears out than listen." The tone remains conversational, despite the rather grisly content. The figure's head turns: a desire to change the subject, unspoken.

[wheelsandbeats]

"What do they say?" Tavros asks before he decodes her body language. He regrets it as soon as he does, and acts with his usual conversational grace to change the subject. "Wait, um, actually, they make me think of lusii like Tinkerbull, who you saw, probably, before you saved me. When I killed him with my lance, I mean, which never actually happened except for in a fake dream way. Err, lusii all have white eyes, so that's why I thought of them."

[lest_ye_become]

"The cho" (there's a certain odd tinge in the otherwise bland accent when the being says the word) "look normal until you see their eyes. They pass for what they were, once-man or beast or more terrifying things."

A long pause.

[wheelsandbeats]

A long pause. What does it mean? He squirms in the seat, his eyes going to the bipedal clams who are still lingering beyond the windows, although their dance-off just finished up to rousing applause from the limpets around the window.

His mouth opens, he swallows, and tries valiantly to drag the conversation in a less painful direction. Or just restart it in any way possible. "So, you're like a hero, right, for hunting them. Or something like it."

He's doing his best to keep her around. Not just because he's curious, but because he's optimistically sure that while she's around, he won't dream about anything that'll leave him soaked in blood.

[lest_ye_become]

"The members of of my order don't seek much recognition. It's better that way." The figure gestures vaguely with the hand that's not holding a teacup. "We are always there, among the people we protect... even when we're not, because the things we hunt have to always watch over their shoulders."

A pause. The subtext remains: monsters hunting monsters. Silver moon-disc eyes give the impression of watching him intensely, though there's not enough detail to the shape to even give away a facial expression. But the proportions of the figure have shifted slightly, again-smaller, gentler. Trying to compensate, maybe, for the impression that admission will give.