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

Rey nods with a small, twisted grin. "Yes. Have actually eaten a cockroach once when someone thought I wouldn't do it."

That was how she passed a whole course in sniper school. But, given the time period that Firo is from, he doubts this version of him would buy that story.

What he says then doesn't strike her as big of a deal as Firo thinks. While it still isn't clear if he's ever even had chicken before, she goes with the flow once he's made his choice.

"All right. Duck it is."

A few seconds later, the waiter returns, allowing Rey to place an order on two honey-glazed ducks that should be ready in a matter of minutes. Because, once again, dream logic.

Two ducks? Firo's eyes go about as wide as dinner plates when he hears that, but he refrains from saying anything in case she changes her mind. Instead, he finally climbs down from his chair and stares at her.

"You ate a cockroach! That's gross!" But the way he crows it suggests he may be more interested than disgusted. "What was it like? Did it make you sick?"

Tempting as some things are when you're desperate, Firo figures it's not worth eating if it's just going to make you empty your stomach anyway.

Two ducks. It's not like they're going to share one, and they're pretty bony on their own to boot.

Rey can't help but snort rather unladylike at Firo's reaction (not that she's worried about being much of a 'lady' at all. She hardly even looks the part).

"No, it actually didn't." Considering her lack of taste at the time, she couldn't describe whether it was even any good or not. She's got a pretty iron stomach, though. "In some places, people even cook them before they eat them."

Firo raises one skeptical eyebrow. "Really? Then how come everybody here says they've got nothin' to eat? Those things're all over the place."

If she's trying to get one over on him, he won't make it easy. At the same time, he's curious if she actually is right, and he needs a distraction until these ducks show up.

Rey shrugs.

"Who knows? Perhaps no one's told them. If you think I'm lying, I'll eat another one for you, since you say there are so many here."

Just then, the waiter rolls in with a tray of two honey-glazed roasted ducks. The sweet and savory scents mingles with the other various flavors throughout the room. It was a pretty short wait but, much like their walk to the restaurant, time seems to work much faster here.

It’s tempting to take her up on it, in part because he doesn’t think she’ll actually do it. Calling someone’s bluff isn’t always smart; people get mad and try to get back at you for it. But people get mad anyway, so Firo figures he might as well have fun pissing them off first.

But then the ducks come.

Firo doesn’t answer. He’s too busy trying to pull off a chunk of his duck and shove it in his mouth.

Luckily the meat has been stripped, so when Firo devours the glazed duck he doesn't accidentally end up choking on bones as well. This is how Rey remembers it back in Chicago, and something tells her that he wouldn't be able to tell the difference either way.

Not yet diving into her own meal, Rey just props her elbow up on the table, resting her chin in her hand as she watches the boy eat without prejudice or disgust. But there is some concern there that she masks with her neutral visage.

"Try not to eat too fast," she warns. "That's how you really get sick."

Insects are one thing; Rey has never gotten ill off bugs before -- not even on cockroaches. Overeating when you're half-starved is another story.

Firo just looks at her for a moment. Why's she care? Probably because she paid for the ducks and doesn't want them wasted, he imagines, but wouldn't she just keep the ducks to herself if she cared that much? Really, her giving him anything is a waste, because she doesn't benefit from it.

"I know..." he mumbles with his mouth still full. Having too much is an uncommon concern for him, but it surfaces enough after a successful theft.

He looks at her and then sneaks another bite. Self control is hard.

Once he's mostly finished with his mouthful, he stares at her harder. "You're weird."

If it's any consolation to Firo, Rey isn't much of a delicate eater as well. Though she knows that the food isn't real, it certainly tastes real to her when she takes the first few bites of the duck to realize that it's exactly like how she remembers it. It's a definite improvement from whatever slop that was at the saloon, that's for damned sure.

"Funny," she says between bites of food, one cheek puffier than the other when she speaks. The waiter has also set down a couple hot mugs of tea for the two, which Rey takes to wash down the duck. "You're not the first person to ever say that."

Because, naturally, most people find her to be perfectly normal. Nothing off about her in the least.

Firo tries to imitate her and takes a drink of the tea, only to wince at the bitterness. He sets the mug down and returns his attention to his duck once more; he sneaks another bite. Waiting is too hard.

Funny? Earnestly, he opens his mouth to explain to her why she's so weird. Then he draws back, his eyes narrowing. "Are you makin' fun of me?"

As much as he has to be on guard for physical attacks, he has to watch out for this as well. He'll be seen as weak if he lets too many insults slide by without challenge.

Noticing that wince, she nudges a sugar holder Firo's way with her free hand. The kid looks like he could use something warm to drink as well, anyway.

"Making fun of you?" Rey raises her brows and then shakes her head. "No, why would you think that?"

Does she look like someone who would openly mock someone in their face?

Well, okay. Perhaps he wouldn't know that, not knowing a damn thing about Rey at all. But the point still sort of stands.

Sugar! Great idea. Firo's about to go for it when Rey replies; he pauses with his hand halfway there.

"I knew it! Now you're bein' sarcastic. How dumb do you think I am?"

Why would he think she was making fun of him? What a stupid question. People only asked something that obvious when you were the target of their jokes.

While she could keep joshing him, a more firm look takes over Rey's expression.

"You're not dumb." She grimaces, taking a stab at her duck with a fork. "An idiot wouldn't last a single day out on those streets alone."

Even if she caught him, she had to commend the kid on his resourcefulness. Even more so, with knowing the sort of person Firo will be and seeing how far he's come from being this little brat.

Try as he might, he can’t find offense in that. If she’s still trying to make fun of him, then she’s just not very good at it, so maybe she’s not. Firo blinks up at her, trying to work out her angle.

He takes the sugar now, upends it over his mug, and quickly pulls back when he realizes just how much comes out.

Okay, now he’s going to jump on that subject change. “Yeah, I guess.” He straightens. And maybe puffs out his chest a bit, though not consciously. “Well, I’ve been out there a long time, so I’ve picked up a lot about all that.”

No matter how hard he looks, he won't find any underlying meaning to Rey's words or motives. Simply because there isn't any. She has better things to do with her time than to play cryptic and mock children (even if she does know Firo as an adult).

"Really?" Rey leans her cheek into her palm, casting the boy a sidelong look. "Have you always been on your own?"

She is more curious than condescending.

He shakes his head. There's no real way she could use this information against him, so he sees no reason to hide the answer. "No. I lived with my mom for a while and Mr. Gandor was there too." Still mostly a free-range child, but that goes without saying where he's from.

To reinforce his maturity, he adds, "But I've been doin' this for years now."

Rey blinks, surprised to hear about his mother. She wants to ask what happened to her but, considering Firo's situation, she has a pretty good idea. Also she doesn't want to upset him, just in case.

"Good on you." Once again, any hint of condescension is absent from her tones, more sincere than dishonest. "Do you have anywhere to live? To sleep?"

The waiter rolls by again, placing a couple of custard-filled pastries on the table before wheeling off again. Thanks, buddy.

Now this is more of a dangerous question. Like many in his situation, Firo keeps on the move out of necessity; people get mad if they see you too much and you can become a target. He doesn’t see why she’d try to hunt him down later when they’re already here, but he should keep his guard up.

Hurriedly, “Yeah, sure I do. What’s it to you?”

He takes some more quick bites out of his duck when the waiter comes by—he’s getting as much of this as he can if that guy is going to take it away. But, no, he brings more food instead, and Firo’s eyes glue right to it.

Judging by Firo's appearance and sticky fingers, Rey can hazard a guess to her own question. Anything she comes up with she keeps to herself, though.

"Nothing. Just wondering." She notices him eyeing the pastry. "You look like you've never had a dan tat before."

She gestures to it for Firo to take, if he wants. Take one, take both. Not like she cares. None of this is real, but she's not going to let him in on that.

“Well, it’s none of your business,” he responds seriously and snottily but without any special ill will or malice. No more than what’s normally in his voice, anyway. She could still be a threat, anyone could, but she’s also giving him food, which gets her some points. Maybe she’s just some dumb out-of-towner who has more money to spend than she really needs.

“A what?” He shoves a good chunk of it in his mouth and looks over what remains in his hand as he chews.

Perhaps it isn't and he's right. It really is none of her business. Though she wants to pry, to ask him more about his life on the streets, Rey can only imagine her curiosity would only be met with suspicion.

She sighs, deciding to flip the subject while she has his interest piqued.

"Dan tat," she repeats. "It's an egg tart. Pretty common in Asia."

He nods and, between bites of both food items, offers, "It's good. So's the duck." That's pretty darn close to thanks, for Firo.

"Are you expectin' to get paid back for this?" She has all that cash, but who says she's really willing to part with it? He supposes they'll find out soon enough. In spite of wanting to gobble up as much as he can, he's already getting full.

Even someone like Rey can get what he means by that. "You're welcome."

When he asks about payment, she just cants her head over her hand rested against her chin, blinking at him.

"No, not really. You just take care of yourself, all right?"

Honestly, she just wanted to spend the time with him, get to know him a little better, even if he doesn't need to know about it.

He means the next words to sound sarcastic, but they probably sound more baffled than anything, “Yeah. Sure.”

With some effort, he tears off part of what he can carry of the duck. Then he hops off his chair and walks a few steps until he’s nearly past her chair—it’s only then that he looks back uncertainly. What is he supposed to say?

“I’m gonna go now.” He nods. That probably works.

He hurries off out of the restaurant.

…Though it may just look as if the restaurant hurries away from him. As he runs along, the world changes: the cozy building becomes a wide, bustling street. Firo only pauses to peek at the posters outside of what appears to be a movie theater, staring at the smiling faces before continuing on.

That street gradually grows narrower and filthier, with tenements pressing against refuse and even the corpse of a horse that’s been left in the street. Firo skirts the crowds of women sitting around sewing (buttons onto cards—a meager moneymaking effort—if Rey’s quick enough to see) and the other kids playing (or perhaps just beating each other up).

He slips down a windy alleyway and finally slows. Finally, when he finds a spot hidden between a pile of rubble and a dumpster, he plops down, still clutching his prize.

Rey doesn't move from her seat when Firo gets up to leave. She doesn't know what to expect as he goes to head out that door, either. Perhaps this is where the dream will end, and she'll wake up on the floor in her bedroom as she had on so many other nights.

Except that isn't what happens.

All at once the restaurant rapidly vanishes. Though Rey doesn't remember getting up, she's standing now in the middle of a drearier looking street. Gone are the vibrancy of the Chinese place and the pleasant scents of whole foods. In its place are the city stench, and all the sights and sounds one can expect to accompany such misery.

She doesn't stop for long, when she finds Firo's form vanishing around the corner of an alley. Rey pauses to take in the scenery before propelling her feet onto the sidewalk an, turning down that chilly alleyway to find Firo behind a dumpster.

Slipping her hands into the pockets of her worker's pants, she cants her head towards the boy on the ground. She doesn't say anything, and just waits for him to notice her instead. Like a skittish stray, she doesn't want to spook him.

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