hadriel_logs | Event Post: Dreamwalker the Second

Entry tags:

Event Post: Dreamwalker the Second

Who: All characters participating in the event
What: The event log for the second half of the Dreamwalker Part Two event
Where: All over the city!
When: October 23rd-29th
Warnings: All different kinds of dreams falling under Fear, Love, Confusion, and Tranquility

It was over - at least, it seemed to be. The dreams stopped, and maybe you were a little disappointed, or maybe you were just relieved. Maybe, though, you noticed that only four of the gods had been influencing you. Sure, that might have been it, but was there really a chance of that? So, just for a few days, you slept (or didn't sleep) normally.

Until it started again. Those deep, unavoidable sleeps, taking you into vivid and emotional dreams. This time, the other four gods are getting in on the act. Expect some nightmares,
some embarrassingly schmoopy dreams - or dreams that don't make sense, or dreams that leave you calm and centered. You can't force these dreams to be anything but what they are,
so you might as well give in and enjoy the ride. Maybe it won't be so bad.

And of course, there are visitors this time, too. Just when you thought it might be safe to have a candy-colored dream about your secret crush, well... turn around and they might be standing right there, wondering what the hell is going on. By now, people know what to expect, but that doesn't give them any better control over things. Let's hope there's no good blackmail material in these dreams.

► This log covers October 23rd-29th.
► 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 slept so terribly that you trip over a rock and die, please let us know here.

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The house itself isn't unusual: it's one of those pre-war models, the kind that are all more-or-less identical in construction, but made unique by those living within. There's a row of bushes just outside the front window, a walkway that leads from the sidewalk to the front door, and a mailbox outside with letters painted across it to let everyone who might pass by know just who lives there: Valentine. It's not like the apartment the original Nick and Jenny had stayed in when they moved to Boston, but a home: inside has a few bedrooms, the kitchen, a cozy den -- perfect for a family.

And as it turns out, in this dream world inspired by the gods, it's a family who lives there rather than a synthetic individual all on his lonesome. Nick doesn't sleep -- not usually, unless he's shut himself down for maintenance -- but when the gods set their dreams upon the city, he just can't help but succumb to their influence. He couldn't last time, when he was met with a dream that resulted in a lot of anger and confusion that still lasts to this day; he can't this time either, but the dream is far more pleasant than before. He has a family here, one much like the family he'd had in the illusionary world Tranquility and Confusion trapped them in only a few months ago. That world might not have been real, but the emotions he'd felt there, the feelings he'd had for Rey as his daughter, and even her mother, in a strange way -- they'd been painfully genuine.

And while he might not admit it in the waking world, he'd liked it. He'd liked having something of his own, liked the love he'd felt. He'd liked having the family neither he, nor the original Nick, would never have.

But things are different in dreams. Nick's coat hangs by the door on the rack, along with his hat, both set aside after he'd come in for the evening. He stoops by the old record player for only a moment, rifling through the collection he's got before he finally picks out one of his favorites.

Their favorites.

"You remember that first time we danced?" he asks aloud, setting the record on the player, his metal hand carefully aligning the needle with the edge. The first few seconds are dry scratching before the piano cuts him, as always -- he's heard this record enough times that it'll forever be burned into his memory, something he holds near and dear to him when times get tough.

There aren't very many tough times in a world like this, though. That's just how dreams are sometimes.

In this, not much has changed. Undine is still a memory; her very presence likely a combination of the two dreamers that share this pleasant world. She is still the brilliant woman with the varying degrees that make her the most qualified to care for her family.

Only they weren't always family -- and now they are. That's all that matters. She looks after them; takes care of them. When they have doubts, she is there.

~~It's what Rey wants more than anything.~~

Undine sits nearby, sunken into the sofa with a new medical journal in her lap. Scientific studies of artificial intelligence on the psychological scale has expanded much these days, but it's more to her than just a job. Always has been. This is her life.

"Danced? If that slow side-to-side exercise can constitute as a dance, then yeah, I remember that very well," Undine replies playfully, her eyes not leaving the blurred words on the pages at her fingertips. She doesn't question the illegibility of it. "Admittedly, there's not a whole lot of hopping and bopping to be done to Billie Holiday."

But she's always been fond of the blues. Of fragments of times long passed. There is history in those notes, in those voices. Like herself, those echoes are ghosts themselves.

The entire dream is more fragments of memory than reality, filled with more ghosts than a haunted house. Undine herself is but an echo from Rey's memories, filtered into Nick's dreams through the gods' influence; the house they own is one he's never seen, but the real Nick saw the likes of plenty of times. The love he feels, the desire for a family -- he can't even place if either of those are any realer than he is at times. He has struggled often with his identity, but Undine, Rey, his synthetic body -- those are all associated with Nick as he is now, the Nick he's been ever since he woke up in that trash pile.

Or, perhaps, he escaped the Institute. Memories, even those belonging to synthetic beings, can be faulty.

"If we'd been any livelier, I might've lost a leg," he remarks with a smile. Faulty memory or not, he recalls that night well: having heard Skinny Malone was back in town and looking to start trouble, he'd been canvassing the charity ball and banquet that had been planned for weeks. It was the talk of the town -- a night to celebrate the pursuit of science while raising money for those who were helping make AI possible. Despite his obviously mechanical nature, Nick was more interested in making sure the night went smoothly and that a bunch of thugs didn't show up looking to take the money and run.

And then, as he was looking over the crowd for anyone who might be a goon in a tux, his gaze crossed paths with hers. Nick might not have had any real investment in the nitty-gritty when it came to artificial intelligence, but he knew who she was; it was impossible to be a machine and not have heard of Dr. Undine Stransky.

"I'm lucky that leg stayed on," he continues, glancing out the window before he looks back toward the woman who changed his life. "What was it that made you agree to dance with an old bot like me?"

Edited 2017-10-25 02:58 (UTC)

While many machine and AI would recognize the woman that is Dr. Undine Stransky, there are few that would do anything about that fact. Despite being a woman with a warrant for her arrest on account of 'stolen government property', Undine refused to live out the rest of her life looking over her shoulder. Things are good now, and she has a new name. Most got used to addressing her as Dr. Marina Strøm, taking after her mother's maiden name.

To Nick, however, she is no one else. She can be Undine, just as Rey can be herself without hiding under fake monikers throughout their many runs across the country... until they landed on the complete opposite coast of where they were. They could make a life for themselves, where Undine can continue her aspirations in bettering the lives of her family and those like them.

She loves it here, and she knows that Rey does, too. Although she can't work under the old impressive credentials that the name 'Dr. Stransky' holds, 'Marina' does her just fine.

And at home, she is Undine again, and no one else -- just a mother and wife, as well as an activist for the livelihood of artificial humans. A philosophical view that does not win her many favors with her peers.

Lowering the journal, her light green eyes shift over to Nick by the record player. His lighthearted self-flagellation does not go over her, as she slides onto her feet and makes her way over to Nick. A machine to most, but a husband to her... and a father to Rey. He is a person all the same.

"Maybe it had something to do with your charming personality and rugged good looks." She smiles as she wraps herself under his arms, embracing her husband from behind.

While the 'good looks' might be subjective, he's certainly rugged these days. Nick has never thought of himself as much of a looker -- he never really had a reason to, given his dedication to his work... and what he is, where he comes from. His job and the ravages of time weren't kind to his synthetic skin, but Undine must have seen past that -- seen something she liked about him that he just couldn't see, no matter how much of a gumshoe he is.

Nick rests his hand atop hers, leaning his head back to rest against his wife's own. He's lucky his left hand still has skin, as getting a wedding ring to stay on his bare one would be a real trick.

"Bet you never thought that night that you'd end up marrying that old bot eventually," he remarks, his tone lighter as he smiles. If there's anyone who can bring out that warmth in him, it's her.

A quiet laugh hums from her closed lips as Undine tilts her chin upward, pressing her forehead in the crook of Nick's neck when he leans into her.

"If you're suggesting that I was clairvoyant, I'm not quite that good." She chuckles, closing her eyes in content. "But I'm fairly sure that I can say I loved you the second I saw you."

Where many people see machines and technological property, Undine sees people. An unpopular perspective in her field of study, but one that she maintains with strong conviction.

Nick rocks side to side with the music, reveling in memories he hasn't fully realized are just as manufactured as the rest of this scenario, as the love they feel for one another, as her -- and this world's -- very existence.

"At the dance that night?" he asks, smirking. "Or when you showed up in my office months later?"

He recalls that night with clarity, as well. He hadn't expected to see Undine again after the ball -- when a night ends with Skinny Malone and his crew arriving just in time to take the money, only for his latest squeeze to double-cross him in a rain of bullets, one can't expect to be the most memorable part of the evening. Still, she must have remembered him when she came through the door to his agency, looking for help.

And that's what Nick Valentine does: he helps whomever he can, however he can.

"Maybe the moment you made it obvious that you knew who I was, and didn't tell a soul." She smiles. Swaying to the mellow tune from the player, Undine rests her cheek against his shoulder and sighs.

It was no secret to anyone in Nick's line of work that an Undine Stransky was a high profiled fugitive. She would have done the smart thing and skipped the country, but with Rey in tow, she couldn't take the risk. Her only hope was hopping from state to state, under the cloak of Gregory's satellite network. Her first synthetic seemed to have his own reasons to aid her, offering both his proficiency and silence to keep Undine hidden. But fabricating files and identities for Undine and her daughter could only go so far. She did her best to change her appearance, but for one with a keen sense for detail such as Nick Valentine, it didn't take much for him to notice who she really was up close.

And when it became clear to her that he had no intention of turning her and her daughter in to the authorities that night, she decided that he was someone she could trust. A good man with a good heart.

She smiles thinking about it. It was a few years ago, and time has passed. Yet she remembers it all in vivid detail.

Edited 2017-10-26 00:06 (UTC)

Letting go of Undine's hand, Nick turns in her grasp, his hand finding hers. The other goes for waist, resting lightly on it as he leads her in a gentle dance, swaying back and forth to the tune.

"Maybe I just wanted you all to myself."

Of course, that hadn't been his first thought when he saw her the second time around. She'd been on the run for some time at that point, fleeing from one end of the country to the other with another synthetic lifeform: her daughter, Rey. Nick was good at finding people, but when it came to Undine Stransky, she found him -- and she wanted him to make sure no one ever found her again. Maybe it was her story, maybe it was all the good she'd done for synthetics -- not that Nick cared much for them himself, being an Institute model -- or maybe it was the way his mechanical heart ticked just a little bit faster when she looked at him and said his name, but he was willing to do anything he could to help her.

It never crossed his mind when she came looking for help that evening that he'd be asking her to make an honest man out of him just a few years down the line.

"Ellie said you were trouble," he continues, still smiling. She said that about a lot of cases, but she might have been right about this one.

Welcoming the abrupt shift, Undine's free hand immediately finds Nick's shoulder, her fingers clasping within his in her other hand. She steps into the rhythm of the music as smooth as water, loving both the cool hum of the song and how quick her husband is to step into time with her. He himself is like someone who is beyond his own years. Maybe Undine has a type, but she has to tell herself that she got it right this time.

"Frankly, I can think of far worse captors."

After all, she could be in prison -- or, worse, back in Niflheim, where she would either be a political prisoner or forced to continue her work for the state. Undine doesn't worry about herself so much as what they would do to Rey, however, as she would suffer a much greater punishment in Undine's stead. Forced into termination, her entire being destroyed and ultimately killed. Undine's mind is too valuable to erase from existence, but Rey... To them, her daughter is a mistake.

But she feels safe here. Both of them. Not just in this city, with the aid of synthetics keeping their identity in complete secrecy, but here, with Nick. In his arms, in synch with him.

Her own smile turns a little mischievous at Nick's comment. "Well, I am by all counts a criminal, so she's not wrong."

Not that she is proud of that fact. She would just be lying if she said she had regrets over her actions. When she thinks about her daughter, she reminds herself that there are some rules worth breaking.

"A former cop hiding a fugitive," Nick remarks, turning as the music shifts. "We're the kind of couple Skinny would envy if he knew. Hell, he'd probably congratulate me."

Knowing Skinny and how far back their rivalry (of sorts) goes, Nick knows it'd be the latter. He laughs quietly to himself before sharing the source of his amusement. "I ever tell you about that box that showed up at the office on the day of our wedding?"

When he puts it that way, it all just sounds so scandalous. Not that it isn't, in truth. Plenty of scandals have been stirred over much more mundane affairs.

Any ideas of poking jests at him are forgotten, however, when Nick mentions a mysterious box. Undine cocks her head to the side.

"I don't believe you ever did. What was inside?"

Come on, Nick. You don't drop stuff like that and leave a gal hanging.

The way Undine cants her head just gets another grin from her husband. He loves it when she does that, the way she looks at him, the feeling of her in his arms.

"You remember that grey suit I had at the party where I met you." He starts with a statement, because he has no doubt she does remember that suit. Despite it being a fancy affair, his outfit was a little out of place by comparison: it was faded, a little wrinkled, and had a patch on the arm that was a shade darker than the rest of it. "That was the only suit I owned all the way up until we got married. Things are better for synths than they used to be, but there are still a lot of places that won't serve anyone they even suspect is a machine."

His grip at her waist tightens just a little as he pulls her closer to him. "I was out that day getting ready for the main event, but when I swing by the office, Ellie says there's this box waiting for me. Wasn't there when she opened, but by the time she got back with the paper, it was on the stoop. Someone must've waited for her to leave before dropping it off. She says it's probably a bomb, but I opened it anyway. Inside is a tuxedo. Tie, shirt, cufflinks -- the works."

And grey suit or not, he did have a tux for the wedding.

"Thing had to have been made to fit me. Everything else I'd tried at every place that would let me through the door was off in one way or another, but this suit is perfect. The box has no note inside, no return address. Now, I don't have proof, but I only know one person who has a thing for tuxedos and has had every tailor and seamstress in Boston on his payroll at some point."

It's so simple, and yet the fact that Nick phrases his words as a statement than a question almost feels like a testament to how well he knows her. That Undine does remember. That he doesn't need to talk down to her, second guess her. He knows her, and she smiles as she listens to him, sliding her hands up over his shoulders when he reels her in closer to him. There's a breathless moment as she looks up at him, studying his weathered features warm with the genuine emotion that he feels for her, and there is something to be proud of in that. Not only is it a potential in synthetics that she's always believed in, but that they're capable of accepting her just as well as she accepts and loves them. It is both inspiring and exhillerating.

She can't help herself from laughing at Nick's final reveal. Honestly, she could play the skeptic and list a dozen other potential donors, but knowing him, his instincts are usually spot on.

"So, your theory is that your adversary took it upon himself to tailor a handsome suit just for you."

If it was anyone else, Undine would take a dozen other shots at the potential donor. But this is Nick.

The creases around her smile brighten her eyes and she accepts the story for what it is. She brings her hand to Nick's cheek. "You seem to encourage that sort of thing in a lot of people. Even if it's just a trace of good, you find it."

Nick smiles, leaning his face into her hand just a little, the receptors in his synthetic skin picking up on the temperature of her hand, the bare heat of her skin against him. They send signals through his wiring to his processor committing the texture of her fingers and the light pressure she places upon his cheek to memory. His glowing eyes follow the curves of her smile, meeting her gaze.

"And what about you?" he asks as the music slows, his face closer to hers. "You've got more good in you than anyone I know, but it was all there well before you met me."

Her fingers curve over the roughness of Nick's face; she holds her breath for a moment when he comes closer.

"I might be. Some consider me a madwoman, though. A naïve idealist who thinks she knows what's best. Good intentions, and all that." She pauses, her smile turning into a wry one. "I'm also a thief, by all counts."

Nick's hand slides up Undine's back, his metal fingertips resting gently between her shoulderblades; he puts some light pressure against her with his palm, encouraging his wife to get close. If he closes his eyes, he feels he can commit this exact moment to memory: the smell of his lover's hair, the weight of her against him, the way their hearts beat -- his mechanical, hers organic -- in tandem with the music and one another. Her breath is warm against him, as full of life as she is -- as they both are, despite themselves.

It all feels so real, even if neither of them truly is.

"You are," he agrees, his brow grazing against Undine's as he leans in closer still. "You stole something right out from under my nose. I didn't even notice until it was too late."

Edited 2017-10-29 10:32 (UTC)

Many would find the feeling of raw, synthetic skin to be hardly tantalizing. For Undine, her back curves with every inch graced by his fingers, more than pleased to the touch. His hands are different from a human's, but not much unlike the coarse surface of a hard worker. And Nick puts his heart into his work, among everything else he does.

Her expression warms, cheeks redden at her husband's sentimental implication.

"You really are a romantic. I guess I shouldn't be surprised, coming from someone who dresses like Humphrey Bogart."

Not that she minds. She loves the way he dresses; she loves everything about him, taking all of that in with every passing second they spend entwined together.

Though as synthetic as they come, Nick's expression is as natural and legitimate as any real person: the creases in his face deepen as he smirks at the comparison, his eyes aglow as his hand traces Undine's jawline, drawing her face toward his.

"I can say he was right about one thing," he whispers, his lips brushing against hers. "I've certainly been living since you loved me."

What a hopeless sap. And she is no better. An idealist and a romantic make quite a pair.

She tilts her head up, only a little in order to meet Nick's lips with her own, and savors it for every lasting moment they're together.

"You're so sweet," Undine says, breathy and humming against his mouth.

"Only because I've got a good reason to be."

Nick remains close to Undine for another moment, his internal sensors picking up on the heat of her breath and her body, processing them in a way his mechanical frame can comprehend, but can never truly feel. Old memories of the real Nick's come to him though, even through dreams, reminding him of what it felt like to sweat with passion, to have a fire blazing in his chest, to really be human.

It wasn't him, he has to remind himself sometimes, but when he's this close to the love of his life... he feels like it could be.

"Maybe we should take a walk before Rey gets home," he suggests quietly. "Cool off in the night air. See the sights."

The same sights they've seen each time, but he'll never complain so long as he has her company.

For a moment, she relishes the closeness of her husband. Head pressed to his shoulder, arms linked around him and taking in everything about him.

His offer almost makes her laugh, her expression exuberant when she pulls back to look at him. Undine knew coming into this not to expect the normal activities that come with most relationships. There will be no dinner dates, where they can share a glass of wine and eat together. She knew that going in, though, and had already come to accept the alternatives to how this would go. And she has been plenty happy with it so far.

"I would love that." She goes to take his good hand in an affectionate gesture, her eyes bright when she tilts her chin at him. "I could use some air to catch my breath, seeing that you have taken it so suddenly."

Two can play at that cheesy game.

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Event Post: Dreamwalker the Second

[love - closed to Rey]

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