hadriel_logs | Event Log: Dreamwalker the Second

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Event Log: Dreamwalker the Second

Who: All characters participating in the event
What: The event log for the Dreamwalker part 2 event
Where: In your dreams
When: October 14th-20th (the second log will go up on Oct 23rd, please keep the two weeks of the event separate!)
Warnings: All different kinds of dreams falling under the umbrella of Delight, Rage, Sorrow, and Hope.

This time, the weird stuff doesn't happen when you're awake- as a matter of fact, your waking hours are the normal ones. That's because you're forced to sleep by some unknown entity, getting more and more exhausted by the moment as night falls. Better make sure you're always around a soft pillow.

Once asleep, it doesn't get any less weird- your dreams will be influenced by one of the four gods that make up the first week. Something to make you smile, something to make you angry- or something that reminds you of your deepest regret or most vulnerable hope, they're all things that you're dreaming about now for some reason, no matter how hard you may try to pull away from them.

To make matters more complicated, there are others intruding on your dreams who definitely don't belong there, and while they may seem like manifestations at first, it becomes clear that these others are actually the consciousness of other members of Hadriel, getting some top quality exposure to your angriest, happiest, most sorrowful moments. Hope it doesn't get awkward when you see them tomorrow...

► This log covers October 14th-20th.
► Feel free to make your own logs as well
► Please tag headers of threads with content warnings where they apply
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!
► If you die in dreams you don't die in real life, but if you somehow die in real life anyway, please let us know here.

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Ephemera knows, logically, that there's not always a reason. People die and sometimes there's no good reason for why. There was a fight and somebody won. He survived because he wasn't there. Ephemera take a breath. Holds it. Listens to Drake's heartbeat, steady and impossibly slow.

"What would I even say?"

"...what's the truth?"

Does Ephemera really want to keep hurting him over and over until he snaps back and they begin the murder cycle?

"I don't think you'll ever be drinking buddies, but. You don't have to be at each other's throats. Maybe you'll be able to walk past each other without reacting at all, someday. And for that you're gonna have to know him a little. Be able to at least trust he won't hurt your people."

"The truth..."

Hah. The truth is, every time Ephemera looks at Washington or hears his name, he thinks about how fucking unfair it is that Washington is alive and Ephemera's family is gone.

He shivers. Keeps his eyes closed.

"I should have died with them."

He admits it quietly.

"I wanted to. And now--now I have to look at him, and let it go."

Drake tenses at that, and like this he can't hide it. His fingers go still in his friend's hair and he lets out a slow breath before his grip tightens again. Careful not to scratch as he holds on.

"I'm glad you didn't," he tells Ephemera softly, "even though it hurts."

He's going to die anyway, they both know, but. That's not here. Here, he's going to be fine. He's going to deal with this shit.

"Maybe it'll help, if you could see him as something other than a killer."

It's an awful thing to say, to let another person hear. Ephemera keeps his eyes closed, trying to breathe normally. He focuses on how Drake is holding him, the way he tenses up and holds him steady. It doesn't hurt. It's careful. "He helped me. In the dream."

It wasn't real, but it's something.

"I should. Thank him for that."

Drake considers that, gives a little nod that Ephemera can feel. His chin brushing against the other man's hair.

"I think that's a good place to start."

It's--something. A start, like Drake says.

Ephemera puts his hand on Drake's arm. Squeezes just a little. The nightmare feels further away now. This is better. Safer. He can hear Drake breathing and the solidness of him is comforting. This is real. It's not going to fade if he opens his eyes.

"Can we just--stay? For a little."

Just for a little.

The correct response to that escapes Drake, and for a moment he feels vaguely guilty. Sit on it, Sweets told him. So he will. But he knows, and Ephemera doesn't, and it doesn't seem fair to lie here enjoying this in any way when he's supposed to be. What? Just helping. Guiding his friend through something traumatic and difficult and not thinking about what it means that they're lying tangled together while doing so.

He breathes, realizes he's taking too long to answer. But he certainly hasn't let go.

"Yeah. I'm not going anywhere."

The answer doesn't come right away and Ephemera almost starts to think he did something wrong, that he was--too much. But in the end, Drake stays. Holds him gently, and Ephemera just nods. Keeps his eyes closed. What they have is important and Ephemera desperately wants to keep it. The connection. This moment, Drake's arm draped over him and his breathing strong and steady. He'd gotten used to being alone, in most ways. And now, suddenly, he's not.

Except that Drake has Liv and--

Well.

Ephemera shifts a little, leaning back against Drake, and just breathes.

Eventually the guilt and worry pass, leaving Drake just feeling tired. He leans his head against the back of the couch and considers whether or not it would be okay to fall asleep again, or if that's asking for trouble. For more people wandering into his dreams, seeing things he doesn't want them to. Maybe they should have made coffee after all, but he's loathe to move Ephemera now. In case this is the last time they're like this with each other, because he really needs to pull it together.

Despite wanting to stay awake, he dozes. And when he wakes up, Ephemera is snoring softly against his chest and there's light streaming in the living room windows.

"Hey." He jostles his friend lightly. "It's morning, man."

It's just for a moment. They'll linger and when it's done, they'll play cards. Ephemera will curse and struggle to keep up, and Drake will win fewer hands than he could. There's comfort in the repetition, in knowing exactly how it will end. And he doesn't intend to sleep, but Drake is warm and steady and Ephemera keeps his eyes closed. Breathes.

Lets go.

There are no dreams. And when Ephemera wakes up, blinking, there's sunlight in the room.

Drake is still there. He stayed the whole time.

Ephemera rubs his face with a groan. "Oh."

Morning means he has to get up.

He shifts to meet Drake's eyes briefly. "Thanks. For staying."

It ought to be said.

"Anytime," Drake tells him, and means it. No matter what's going on in his head, whatever distance he has to find, he'll never not be there. His hands slip away as Ephemera sits up and stretches a little, stiff from the position they'd been in.

"Can I take you up on that coffee now?"

Strangely, Ephemera remembers the twins then. Crashing between them on the floor of a pelican and waking up to find them both clinging in the morning, Chica threatening to take pictures. The way he always slept well between them, never had any nightmares that couldn't be conquered. How he always felt safe listening to them breathing.

He never wanted to reach out and kiss them when he woke up, though.

Ephemera tucks the cards into his sweatshirt pocket and decides he's not going to think about that. "Coffee I can do. I've even got sugar."

"Perfect. I'll be right there."

He gets up and tugs his sweatshirt down where it's ridden up, probably due to the lack of shirt underneath. Now that it's daytime, he's wondering if coming over in just pajama pants was really the best idea. Oh well. Nobody cares. He'll go home and change after caffeinating... for now he heads down the hall to Ephemera's bathroom to wash his face.

It takes a few tries, but Ephemera prods his coffee maker into obedience. Food would be a good idea too. Or would have been, if he had anything for Drake. No--brains.

He considers that a moment. Wonders if it ought to seem weirder than it does.

Probably. But that's life.

He's prodding the coffee maker when Drake comes back out, frowning at it. "This thing has way too many buttons."

Hey, he still eats normal food, too, still needs the nutrition, it just doesn't keep him human. But he's not expecting breakfast when he comes back into the kitchen.

"Everything here does, I don't think half of them do anything." He peers at the coffeemaker -- it's brewing, that's good enough for him.

"Did you have patrol today?"

Ephemera huffs, frowning at the coffee maker. "Not today. I was gonna go out and look for parts. Need to fix my armor."

Somehow. He's not an engineer.

"You going out later?"

"Going out?" He tilts his head, curious. "Like to the Speakeasy or something?"

Not that there's many other places to go.

He thinks, maybe, he should speak to Lance again, but doesn't know what good it would do. He just wants to talk to someone and the psychologist is the only one who knows.

Ephemera clears his throat. Bad phrasing. "Patrolling, I mean. I'm not awake yet."

"Oh -- no, I'm not scheduled. Not sure what I'm gonna do, actually. Get a workout in, at least, I've kinda been slacking."

The coffee maker gives a mechanical beep. Coffee's ready. Ephemera fills two mugs, holding one out to Drake. "You wanna train with me?"

Drake takes the mug, waits for Ephemera to break out the sugar. "Always. You said we should start using real weapons?"

Then, warily, "...were you going to talk to Washington today?"

Sugar is next. Ephemera likes his coffee sweet, unless he's trying to force himself to wake up. And it's here, so why not enjoy?

Ephemera tightens his mouth at the question. Last night, it had seemed--

Different, somehow. With Drake holding him.

But now he's wake and--

You promised, Ephemera reminds himself furiously. You promised so straighten the fuck out, soldier.

"Yeah. After I train."

Work out some of the anger.

"Sounds like a plan," Drake agrees, claiming a spoon and helping himself to a little sugar before backing up to sit down at the kitchen table.

"So, weapons?" And they discuss that for awhile, what to use and basic safety when swinging at each other with actually sharp things, while they sip their coffee. It's weirdly domestic, but things are normal. He didn't screw things up the night before, he just has to watch himself from now on.

Eventually, the coffee's gone, and Drake sets his mug in Ephemera's sink and stretches one more time before resigning himself to the fact he has to face the rest of the world. Maybe Liv, if she hasn't already left for the clinic. What time is it, anyway?

He checks his phone and it's still early, but she was probably gone. He's oddly relieved about that, and there's the guilt again. No. No avoidance. Go home, get changed, get your weapons, he tells himself. After that, you can go visit her at the clinic. Plan something for dinner. Even if something tells him he's probably going to wind up back here later tonight, after Ephemera talks to Washington.

He'll be here. He promised.

"Okay. I'll meet you in an hour." That's enough time to get breakfast and his head on straight. Ephemera nods his agreement and follows Drake to the door to see him out.

They open it to see Ephemera's neighbor in her doorway, doing the same thing with her overnight guest.

W h o o p s.

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Event Log: Dreamwalker the Second

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