hadriel_logs | Event Log: Dreamwalker

Entry tags:

Event Log: Dreamwalker

Who: Everyone!
What: The Dreamwalker event
Where: In your comfy bed and your sleepy head.
When: May 16th-26th
Warnings: Good dreams, weird dreams, bad dreams, straight-up nightmares. Please remember to tag for warnings in the header if things are going to be bad!

Have you been having trouble getting a good night's sleep? Tossing and turning, unable to rest those tired eyes? Or maybe you don't sleep at all, and never have. Not to worry! For a little while, you'll have no trouble at all falling asleep - in fact, as night falls, you'll find yourself overwhelmed with exhaustion whether you want to sleep or not. Lay down and rest your weary head, friends. Everyone could use a little extra sleep.

But what will your dreams bring? Something happy, images of a perfect day? Something hopeful, something you've wanted for a long time? Maybe you'll dream of anger, of the face of your worst enemy. Or maybe - just maybe - you'll have a horrific nightmare, and wake screaming, covered in cold sweat.

Not before others have time to see it, though. As you sleep, as you dream, the other residents of Hadriel, friends and enemies and people you've only met once, might find their way into your dreams. Or you might find your way into theirs - and then have to deal with someone's else's nightmares, or hopes, or anger. For the next ten nights, you'll find yourself either a host or a visitor, and no matter how you try you won't be able to stay awake once night falls.

Sweet dreams, Hadriel. Don't let the asshole fear gods bite.

► This log covers May 16th-26th.
► 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!
► You can't die in the dreams, but if you somehow manage to trip and fall and kill yourself getting out of bed, please report it on the death post.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Such a tiny connoisseur of all things indeed. It's hard to tell what to expect. Whether this kid is going to hassle her or take her down an alley to get jumped or actually follow through with his word.

Despite all possibilities, she does go with him. He's fast, but she has little trouble keeping up, even in the strange clothes that she's been wearing.

As they stop in front of the saloon, Rey graces it with a wary look. Not that the tough-looking customers trouble her any, being rather tough-looking herself.

"This is it?"

She's never seen anything like this before. Everything feels like something out of one of her brother's favored old movies, but... different. More real, despite how oddly unreal this all seems in a much different way.

He would like to just lead her into another alley and mug her, but he felt that grip when she was holding him. She’s strong, and it’d be hard to trick her now.

So he’s stuck, but at least he has a chance to get something if he plays along. As they walk, he wonders what her angle is—why help him?

He frowns at what he thinks may be skepticism in her tone. “Yeah, this is it. You got a problem?”

The closer they get, the more detail comes into the building. Firo doesn’t seem to notice this discrepancy with the others as he nonchalantly walks in. He was kicked out of here the one time he tried to come in, but now that he’s with somebody who can pay, hopefully it’ll be different. Besides, ragged as he is, he’d definitely get the boot if he went in any place nicer than this.

There are stools along a long counter, and Firo scrambles up onto one.

For someone who is used to places that are trash on the outside but serve amazing food within, Rey isn't one to judge a book by it's cover. She shakes her head, folding her arms before entering. "No, not at all."

The saloon lives up to her expectations on the inside as much as it does on the out. Which isn't saying much, since she wasn't expecting a whole lot to start. Her mouth twists as she seats herself on the stool beside the boy, unaware but having somewhat of a good idea as to what he must be thinking about her at this point. She keeps her money close and from the boy's reach.

"What's your name, anyway?" Rey asks as she's deciding what to order.

Firo's definitely trying to stay aware of where the money is, just as he tries to take note of where her hands are and how she's moving. It's all important stuff, and he needs to keep track of his opportunities and threats.

He looks at her a moment as he considers how truthfully he should answer. But what difference does it make in the end? "Firo Prochainezo. What's yours?"

No shitting way.

"Firo?" She blinks, turning her head to look at the kid fully. "Wait, you're Firo...?"

Come to think of it, he does have the look, just... younger. It would also explain a lot about this place. He mentioned being from New York, a little after the Prohibition...

If she says anything, chances are he won't believe her. It'd taken Rey some time to work through some of her own dreams, so why would Firo's be any different?

"Um, I'm Rey. Just Rey," she says, trying to cover her initial surprise.

Edited 2016-05-30 16:42 (UTC)

It's not a common name in the least--his last isn't either, but especially his first. He's certainly not friendly enough with anyone for people to know of him in a good way... but maybe his criminal exploits have built up his reputation.

Maybe she's a cop--he'd heard they had some woman officers to look after kids in other cities.

Immediately, he's tense. Only the promise of food and his own curiosity keep him from trying to attack her or running right now. "How do you know my name?"

Rare as it is, Rey has a hard time believing that there could be anyone else going by that same name. It isn't a common one, even for the time period. And if the last few nights had taught her anything, it's that there are no coincidences. This is definitely the Firo Prochainezo that she knows, and this is his dream. She's aware of that.

Telling him all of this would only confuse him, make him run away. While that could be one way to put an end to this dream, she isn't certain if she is in such a rush. After all, her curiosity is piqued.

Now it's just a matter of figuring out an excuse.

"Might've heard a thing or two on the street." She forces a casual shrug as she pretends to pay more attention on what to order than the boy's wariness.

If Rey’s looking for a menu, she won’t find one anywhere. While there are other shadowy figures clustered at the other end of the bar, their plates don’t seem to have anything on them. The saloonkeeper—just as vague and nebulous as the other “people”—has his back to them, so it looks like she’ll have to summon him if she wants some food.

Firo, meanwhile, seems to have nearly forgotten about the food. Hunger is a constant to him, so now it takes a backseat to the more acute worry of possible immediate death or harm. She knows him? It can’t have been anything good.

Of course, he can’t ask for the names of her sources if she really is a criminal. That would just mark him as a nosy kid to be eliminated. So, instead, he decides to feel her out in the other direction. He frowns at her, “Are you a cop?”

Indeed Rey is looking for a menu, or some type of display listing the selection. She turns back to the boy, about to ask when he shoots her a question of his own.

Rey just stares at Firo, her brows furrowing. "A cop? Hell no. Far from it."

If she told him that she was a soldier, he really wouldn't believe her, would he? She thinks for a moment, and her brother suddenly comes to mind.

"I'm a professional gambler." Well, Orion had taught her enough that she could probably play off as one. People did that back in Firo's day, didn't they? It wasn't totally illegal or anything, was it?

...

Oh, shit.

Anyone can say they’re not a cop, so the denial doesn’t do anything to relax the skeptical glare he’s giving her.

…And it only intensifies when she tries to offer another profession. Still, there’s a hint of a smug grin somewhere—too mean to be called a smile. “If you were, you wouldn’t be dumb enough to say it straight like that.”

No gambler talks that way, especially not to a kid they don’t even know. Anybody truly involved in even the less violent corners of the criminal underworld would know to be more subtle ("eh, I do this and that" or "I get by") or would simply cuff him over the head and tell him to shut up.

There's no cuffing or even the slightest hint of subtlety with Rey. And this really isn't going as well as she'd have hoped.

"Okay, fine. But if I told you what I really am, you wouldn't believe me." She huffs. "Do you want to eat something or not? Because I can always just take my money and leave."

Either they sit here going back and forth all day (or for the duration of this dream, it would seem), or this starved kid can get some actual food for the first time in what looks like his whole life.

She has him there. He wants to ask more, but he can’t say no to the real goal here. “Fine, fine!”

He leans forward on the bar to get a look at the barkeep. The man doesn’t turn around, and Firo doesn’t seem to register at all that he doesn’t look quite defined. All he sees is an adult.

He frowns and looks back at Rey. “You ask him.” He doesn’t think he’d get very far, though he scrubs his cheek with the back of his hand to try and make himself more presentable. All it does is smear the dirt around.

Ask him what? she wants to reply, but Rey is suddenly distracted by the tiny Firo's pitiable attempt to tidy himself up. She sighs, grabbing a napkin and handing it to the kid. Here, this should make it easier.

...At least she isn't stepping over her boundaries and trying to clean up his face herself. That would be a little weird.

Afterwards, she turns her head towards the barkeep and blinks. He's really ignoring them, isn't he? Rude.

"Hey," she calls out to the bartender. "What've you got to eat in this place?"

Briefly, Firo considers the napkin, then her face. He snatches it out of her hand and wipes up, revealing pale skin under the grime. He doesn’t offer any words of thanks—doesn’t even think to—he just goes back to eagerly and anxiously watching the man behind the counter, still clutching the napkin.

Wordlessly, the saloonkeeper turns and hands them each a plate with a can on it. No can-opener, but somehow they open just fine at the first touch. The contents are some sort of mystery meat. Maybe.

Whatever subconscious is dreaming this up apparently isn’t too well-versed in the niceties of how restaurants work. Firo doesn’t seem to see anything amiss, though, and simply holds his can up to his face to frantically gnaw and slurp at what he can reach. Table manners Rey would be proud of.

Totally making Rey proud right now, Firo.

Granted, she'd be less taken aback by the kid's eating tendencies, considering the dish that's displayed before her. With one finger, she peels back the tin and peeks inside, her nose wrinkling at its contents.

Really? This is it? This is the best Firo can dream up? She lets go of the tin and glances back to him, devouring the mysterious meat from his tin like it's a gourmet meal.

"You know, I'm surprised that this is even remotely edible."

Or not liable to turn them into wendigos, for that matter. Now that wouldn't surprise her.

Firo hardly lowers the can from his face, only enough to peek out over the top at her. “Huh?”

He swallows another mouthful. “What’s your problem with it?”

At least the can means there’s some level of safety to it, not like fresh stuff that seems to rot far too quickly. That's all far beyond what Firo thinks he could ever afford, too.

Rey sighs, not touching her can anymore. She can barely stomach to look at it.

"You've never been to a real restaurant before, have you?"

As outsiders, she starts to wonder how much influence they have over these dreams. If, perhaps, it's possible to try and meddle with things a little bit. While she may be out of her element here, there's no pain in trying, at least.

Is there?

Firo could give her the truth and confirm her guess, that he never has. He’s watched a few, though, and he’s seen them in movies, so he’s sure he can try to argue she’s wrong. Fake it ‘til you make it.

He lowers the can now and draws himself up to his full height. “Sure I have! I’ve been to tons!”

This world is rather plastic, perhaps because so much of it is shadowy and undefined. If Rey chooses to mess with the environment or the people around them, she’ll find that she’s capable of doing so with a little effort.

"Sure you have," she echoes, a vague hint of skepticism in her tones.

Putting her hands on the counter, she pushes herself out of the stool. She's not even going to touch her can of mystery meat. While Rey may not be the pickiest person when it comes to food, she has standards.

Despite this, she places some cash on the counter, paying for the meal anyway and looks to Firo.

"Come on. What's the nearest Chinese place you know?"

Time to change this around a little.

Firo may not be the most emotionally intelligent person, but he knows she’s secretly laughing at him. He puffs out his cheeks and prepares himself to start arguing back—but he draws up short when she seems ready to leave.

He, on the other hand, will take his can with him as he hops off the stool to follow her out. “Chinese?”

No idea. He can stall, though, he’s sure. At least he knows where Chinatown is, so that should do most of the work for them. He points off into the distance. “That way.”

Figuring that Firo was ready to argue, Rey doesn't give him that time and heads back out onto the street. Turns out, the pedestrians are still as indistinguishable as ever.

"Lead the way, then." It's also an excuse to keep an eye on him without being terribly obvious about it. He seems more agreeable now, but she can tell that his guard is still up and he wouldn't hesitate to run off at a moment's notice.

But no. She's more interested in seeing where this goes.

Firo nods and darts ahead, pausing every so often to keep an eye on her. He needs to know what she's doing to make sure she doesn't try anything.

...And, for some reason, he wants to make sure she's still there. This is the longest he's spoken to a person who's not a Gandor brother without it turning into a fight.

Possibly due to her suggestion, they're suddenly in the thick of Chinatown after hardly a minute. Firo stops at the first restaurant they seem a narrow building with a few tables crammed inside.

"This is it. Are you gonna complain about this one too?"

Dream logic. Rey doesn't get it, but she isn't going to question it, either. So they're in Chinatown after a brief passing of time. Sure, okay. They can roll with that.

The place doesn't look like much, but that doesn't mean a whole lot. If not for the fact that Rey has been to some shady-looking places that offered an amazing menu, she can get behind this.

And it doesn't take much for her own influence to emerge. Bright reds decorate the place inside, filled with savory scents. The people, conversely, appear clearer than the ones in Firo's saloon, further evidence of Rey's meddling. For someone with a photographic memory, she has a better mind for detail.

What more, there may be a strange, alien quality to the restaurant itself. Seeing that she had never been to New York, Rey can only go by what she recalls of her dining experience in Chicago. But she doubts the kid will notice.

"No, this is perfect." She gestures to the empty tables, suggesting that Firo be the one to pick where they seat themselves.

Firo breathes in sharply. "Wow..." While he'd obviously be immediately on guard if such a thing happened in real life, he's oblivious in this dream. Or maybe just blinded by how fantastic and bright it all looks.

He walks in farther, spinning slowly as he cranes his neck to look all around. He's so fascinated that he nearly walks right past all the tables and into the wall.

He stops by the one farthest back, grabbing the back of the chair that faces out into the restaurant and the door. From this spot, he can see everybody and what they're doing. "Here, here!"

If there was any suspicion of her interference, Firo doesn't seem to show it. What his reaction tells her is that he's rarely, if ever, been a patron of these types of establishments. And that's just no good.

Rey follows him inside, to the far end of the room. As someone who also prefers to be in positions where she can oversee the area, this is fine by her as well. "Here," she echoes, taking a seat at Firo's chosen table.

Despite the busy ambiance, it isn't long before a very distinctive waiter (clearer than the individuals at the saloon) appear with menus. This is Rey's tweaking with the environment, and it doesn't seem to take much for her to fiddle with the particulars. Something tells her, however, that Firo isn't one for reading, as she grabs one of the menus. Rather than words, they'll find images depicting a variety of Chinese cuisines that Rey can remember.

"Ever had roasted duck before?" There is a slight hint of a smile tugging at the corner of her mouth.

looks good, bro! :|b

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Awww, mama Rey

she can get oddly maternal and doesn't even realize it, haha.

Stealth nurturing

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kjlfgjlf bb firo is so freaking cute