hypnagothic | [The City] IC Contact

[ A shake of her head, but still smiling; the one only for herself that is always a just little bit sad. ]

...You make me sound so pitiful.

[ Isn't she? Perhaps he is impartial. ]

Am I to enjoy the clementine alone, then?

Pitiful ... No. But you had invited me.

[ he finally makes a motion of his own, leaning in a bit to reach for the clementine that rolled away. he picks it up gingerly with his fingertips, turning his hand to cradle it in its palm as if it were a thing more delicate than it actually is. he brings it back over to Vanessa, placing it back on the counter before her as carefully as if he were handling eggshells. his hand then withdraws, resting on the counter before him as he glances back up to her. ]

And I came.

[ She watches his movements, how small they usually are but very deliberate with the meaning they carry. This movement isn't so small, she doesn't need a sharp eye to catch it, but she watches with as much care as if he were barely tilting his head. No, not so small. It means everything to her, but he must understand some measure of that. Out of pity? She would tell him to leave and never come back, but no he says. For what little he does say, it's easy to believe his words.

After only a moment looking down at the little fruit, she'll pick it up to run her thumb across the waxy feel, then smile just a little brighter as her thumbnail pierces the flesh. Even just from that little tear, the scent bursts free as if she could have stepped near an orchard. The scent bites and it's beautiful.

She'll peel the fruit with care, less used to the citrus fruits, but the skin comes away with little fuss.

So much for her excuse to bring him back on the morrow, but of course she would give into temptation when it's dangled on a string. All of her things are here at the moment, with her bag pushed into the far corner, given this is her latest camping spot. Of course the clementines would be at the ready, but somehow she hadn't thought he would ask.

While anticipation can be painful, she does enjoy surprises. ]

I find you quite curious, as well. Are you often invited away from your duties?

[ he quietly watches her with the fruit as if they were sharing some ceremony together—a breaking of bread or a presentation of tea. something of equal meaning. he glances back to her face at the question. ]

Not so often, as my responsibilities are many. Some invitations are a matter of duty as well, politically speaking. Here, though, they have been taken from me by the very act of bringing me to this place.

[ Her lips press together tight when considering the true implication of what it means for a great being like the god of dreams to be trapped in such a bland shell of a cage. To be trapped at all, and then further weakened... It has happened to her before. It has happened more than once. But to him? He was a god.

She was nothing more than a blade of grass.

There's a slight burst of juice from under her thumb when she drags it between the thick peel and delicate fruit, her nail scraping just a bit too deeply before tugging and peeling. ]

I don't dare imagine how wretched it must feel to have a power like yours controlled by another... Does it anger you? To be caged like an animal by fools who ought to be submitting to your nightmares?

[ If not, Vanessa has carried enough rage for the both of them. For the whole of the City, it radiates from her shadow. ]

[ he turns his head to the window she was focusing on, staring out with an expression that's now shifted. where before it was somewhat soft with a mild openness without giving anything away, it now looks closed and hard, his brows taking on an angle that hints at a glare without actually doing so.

he does not confirm it aloud, but his expression all but validates her suspicion of anger. ]

[ The movement catches her eye enough for her to look with a gentle tip of her head. Even without looking, such a rage is something that seeps into her own heart, but she can still appreciate what a man looks like when he's moments away from his most dangerous self.

It is a morbid thing to talk about now, while peeling fruit to share, but his reminder of their entrapment could not keep her from musing aloud. It does not mean she wants him to drift too far into whatever darkness may be taking him; he may lose sight of the burgeoning sunset. ]

You are not alone.

[ In anger. In entrapment. In being peculiar beings that others cannot understand?

The peel is gently set down as if the delicacy still matters, then she splits the soft fruit in half with a push of her thumb down the center. ]

They do what they can to humiliate us. The best way to spite them is to enjoy ourselves on our own terms, no? They will misstep. We will strike.

[ Leaning over, she'll settle his half of the clementine at the center of the plate, gentle as if there's some manner of importance to how it's laid out. ]

We will be free.

[ he only turns his head back as she places the fruit before him, not even turning all the way, looking at her mostly from the corner of his eye. ]

Perhaps. We do not yet know the intent of bringing us here. But we will free ourselves.

[ There's a crease to her brow and a little twist to keep her mouth shut while rethinking her response, but oh how the glare toward the counter suggests she feels very certain she knows the intent. But that isn't something to discuss. It never is, least of all when trying to enjoy a sunset with someone.

Freedom has always been her goal, and it will continue to be fought for even when she's out of the City. It has become tiring, and usually lonely, but how else can she live? She wonders what he's had to fight for. ]

Should that be what we toast? Freedom?

[ She holds up her half of the clementine with her fingertips to appreciate the color in the light. ]

[ there's a space of a breath or two that Morpheus doesn't move, doesn't seem to even breathe, that stillness, that otherness of him becoming frighteningly apparent. he stares at Vanessa, that hard look in his eye not directed at her necessarily, but present and foreboding.

then something ... eases in him. his eyes drop down to the counter and the spell of motionless breaks softly. the supernatural thing once more covered by the form of humanity. ]

Perhaps ... to companionship.

[ he turns back fully into facing her, relaxed in his movement as he plucks a smaller section from the half he gave her, holding it up with his fingertips. ]

Freedom is our ultimate goal. Our companions may make the journey less troublesome.

[ If anyone could feel such a presence, it’s Vanessa. It’s like a soundless call from somewhere old, and one such as her it’s a pull toward the void. But when she dares to glance up, it’s gone. Whatever is there now is something softer, though she thinks he would deny such a word.

Companionship, though, he seems to be quite fine with, and the suggestion draws a lightness to her when she turns to face him with both feet once again hooked beneath the bottom bar. The rest of it has been left in the counter's edge so she can hold up one of the bite-sized segments. ]

To companionship, then.

[ She will be polite and wait to see if he tries it first, but not for long. In either case she's popping it daintily into her mouth, too impatient to resist it any longer after being flooded with the tantalizing scents for this long.

Though she had intended to turn her gaze towards the slowly blooming sunset after taking her bite, the burst of sweetness in her mouth is so unexpected that she can only close her eyes and sigh into it. A beautiful taste even when looking into darkness. ]

[ it is a little slower than her, certainly less outwardly enthusiastic, but he does eat the small section of the clementine with her. she won't be able to see he face hints at a smile as she closes her eyes to savor the taste. but it is there. ]

I hope it is to your satisfaction.

Hm!

[ A tiny but eager nod is her response alongside the closed-mouth hum of appreciation. Well, she wasn't about to talk with her mouth full, and though it's a small bite with mostly juice, she couldn't help but let it sit on her tongue for as long as possible. Silly, given she can now technically eat as many as she wants.

To follow up her lack of proper response, she'll bear a sheepish green that can't hide her enthusiasm when finally speaking. She has never cared to take half-measures with her experiences, and this had been one to savor. ]

Exquisite! I did not expect it to be so...vivid. Does that make sense? [ Of course not. ] How silly I must sound. What did you think, did you like it?

It is indeed a sharp yet tantalizing thing. A bright, enjoyable taste.

[ he says that, though he then take the rest of his half and leans over to give to her. ]

[ Caught off-guard by how much thought he put into his review, she must give another nod of appreciation alongside a slight tilt of a grin.

With the rest of her half left on the counter, she'll take his offer with a perk of her eyebrow. Of course, she isn't going to complain about the return, merely peeling off another little bite to enjoy for herself. This time she won't spend an eternity on it. ]

Not overwhelming, I hope?

I have simply had my fill, and you seem to be greatly enjoying it.

[ Her shoulders shake in a quiet chuckle, imagining how frustrated Sembene would be in trying to find a dessert that Morpheus might enjoy without leaving the rest to dust. ]

I admit to preferring my sweets in the morning hours.

[ But she will take one more bite before setting it to join its off-kilter companion on the counter. She's forgotten about the sunset. ]

Would you like to take some with you when you go— [ Not home, not here. ] —to wherever you may be staying? Perhaps a friend would enjoy them as well.

Aye ... perhaps he would. I shall inform him of your generosity.

[ Now extremely curious as she stretches to pull over the paper bag, she must wonder who his friends are. They would have to be intensely interesting people. ]

And who might 'he' be? Possibly anyone I know?

I do not know if you have made his acquaintance here. His name is Robert Gading.

[ The paper bag of clementines settles in front of him with the top rolled down. A most inelegant looking gift-wrap, really. Not something she would have delivered in the post to make an impression, but the offer had been spontaneous. ]

I haven't, no, but hopefully he will like them just as well when offered from a stranger.

[ Given by a friend, after all. ]

Did you meet him here?

[ he gives a small nod in thanks. ]

No. We have known each other for quite some time.

[ As old as Morpheus must be, 'quite some time' carries an implication that Vanessa doesn't miss. The thought warms her. ]

How sorry I am for someone you care for to suffer this city's curse...yet their presence must bring you a comfort that little else can.

[ She'll reach for another piece of clementine. ]

I am glad for you to have such a friend. To wonder at you carrying such burdens as our dreams for longer than I can imagine, I then worried for you being lonely.

[ he does not address the first statement. that would give too much away, perhaps. ]

He thought the same, at one point. I did not respond well to his drawing attention to it.

[ he speaks confidently as he usually does, as if the words were already written in the stars, though the last sentence is spoken a little slower, just short of actual hesitation. ]

[ With both hands now resting in her lap, she considers what it would mean for Morpheus to 'not respond well'. A cold shoulder? A demand for silence? Was the poor man punished?

Is he going to punish her?

Well, she'll lean into it. ]

Lonely souls often recognize one another...and it can be painful to be seen.

[ She looks to her hands while letting out the tiniest of shrugs, as though there can be no helping it. ]

Or else why would we remain lonely?

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