hypnagothic | [The City] IC Contact

[ 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?

[ there's the faintest huff of breath through his nose with a slow blink of his eyes, gently scoffing. ]

I do not imagine him to be a lonely soul. Quite the opposite, in fact.

[ With a minute tilt of her head, she looks back to him and wonders again at how old his friend must be. She can still recall what had earlier been alluded to. If he is anything like Morpheus, then no matter the character, he must have known loneliness at some point. ]

For how long have you known him? Beyond 'quite some time', I mean.

For a number of years.

[ the barest smirk. ]

I will allow him to illuminate you on the details, if he wishes to provide them.

[ That only gets her to perk up a little. ]

Is that an invitation for me to meet your friend?

You would likely invite yourself to do so if I did not.

[ He isn't wrong. Once she had the name, it was only a matter of time. ]

How could I resist the opportunity to ask after the adventures you two must have had?

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