[ooc: So okay. Dream sequence post! If you want your pup to have a wacky dream sequence involving meeting Intuition, tag away! If you want more information about what the heck I'm talking about, ping at pythianhabenero!]
Intuition is dreaming.
For the first time since becoming human, she's dreaming as herself, properly abstract - drifting through
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She's on a ship at sea. The Alethea in everything but name, where they're in the middle of a pitched battle.
Every single face is someone Ruth recognises. Her crewmates, certainly, but a wide selection of women as well, dying apparently at random.
Ruth herself, dressed in a long flowing dress, is standing central to the main deck, the weapons in her hands constantly changing while no one comes close enough for her to use it.
At this second she's brandishing a stem rose.
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It's someone familiar, but that's not the same thing.
Intuition peers around the ship curiously. It's a good ship. It likes her. (All things do.)
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But this girl right here? She's the closest thing he's seen to a god.
He blinks and then he's at her side, reaching gingerly for her hair.
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"Hello," she says, and whether the name that comes after is Ruth or Jack is entirely unclear.
No need to introduce herself. She's Intuition. Ruth(jack) will know.
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(It was really a collapsed building.)
Now, in her mind, the same landscape takes shape around her -- barren, gray, empty, dead.
She reaches out to touch a broken wall, but her hand goes right through it.
She thinks she's dead, too.
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Also, there's a girl there full of rainbows, smiling.
Intuition says hello. She just doesn't bother with the out-loud part.
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She can feel the warmth her own blood. It's still flowing through her veins, she's not --
"Never had the chance to look up."
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"It's nice to meet you, Lenore."
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Nor is the nightlight.
What's there is a marble - a shining little marble, sitting on her bedspread.
It has the ocean in it.
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Bridgette leans over, eyes going wide as she looks into the marble. Her dream-self doesn't need to breathe - doesn't need to blink - so she doesn't.
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On the ship there is a glint - a glimmer -
A rainbow, you might say.
When she looks up, the same rainbow is standing in her room, blinking at her.
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When Long dreams, he doesn't appear as he is in life, bound in some ridiculously frail, stupid human body. Long curls around the labyrinth as he is truly, one great and glowing serpentine dragon, bright blue but glittering with silvers, greens and violets. The walls of the maze aren't obstacles for him: He slides through them as if they were water.
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For some reason, however, she doesn't feel comfortable appearing as herself here. Instead, she finds herself hovering gently in the body of a simple hummingbird, green and red and blue and gold.
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Long knows every part of this dream, and he can smell something that isn't meant to be there. The dragon curls around until its face is level with the hummingbird.
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That's not at issue. It's his dream, his space. She is, perhaps, less welcome here than she would be in the dream of a human, but she is still Intuition, and therefore a part of every dream whether she appears there or not.
Why don't you like me?
He didn't answer when he was awake. Perhaps he'll speak more clearly now, in this unreal realm. The hummingbird (whose blurred, bright wings are shrouded for a moment in rainbows) doesn't know. She waits patiently for an answer, or the lack of one.
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Tonight, he's huge.
Huge and helpless, because although he's in the shop with planet Earth neatly dissected and spread and pinned like a dead butterfly to be inspected under magnifying glasses the size of continents -- he can't find a path back to Intuition. Not one. Not anywhere.
In this instance, the lack of pathways represents brokenness -- because how can a world without them be right and whole? -- and the fact that he can't fix it is... well. It seems that it's possible, in a dream, to be tiny at the same time as large. At least, Gabriel's managing it.
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After a moment of this, it/they/she speaks.
I've missed you, Gabriel.
She's been wandering dreams for a long time.
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Delight delight.
But also concern.
"I-- I'm here, I'll always be here." He looks up and around, trying to find something to comfort, but it's like trying to look at God.
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Somehow Inty manages to make appearing out of thin air graceful and subtle and gradual; in the next moment, there she is, hugging him and snuggling her head into his chest, both of them larger than worlds.
I met a reader of truth, she says, because with Gabriel here she can be everywhere and herself at the same time, and she doesn't want to lift her head from snuggling to speak with vocal words.
The shared feeling/image of Jack(Ruth) is complex: that talent, shining brightly, connecting him(her) to Intuition's very nature - but as a matter of course, the comparison along with it. Truth is a large part of Intuition, and the reading of it moreso, but it is not all of her. Gabriel's place as part of her is secure. He's still the only one who sees as she does, and the only one she can share these impressions with so deeply.
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