[Etraya] IC Contact/Inbox

[hypnagothic]

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a letter is left on a table addressed to Dream

[100more]

Dream,

My old friend, thank you for helping me upon my arrival in this world. I have found a suitable flat near the hospital and have moved there. Please visit sometime.

Hob
(new address enclosed)

-> action; later that day

[hypnagothic]

[ suddenly there comes a tapping, as of some one gently rapping, rapping at Hob's chamber door. ]

[100more]

[ When he extended the invitation, Hob did not expect a visit so soon. At first, he thinks it might be someone else. Hopefully not some rightful owner of the flat here to kick him out.

When he opens the door and sees Dream there, there's a surprised smile on Hob's face. ]

Hello, old stranger. I see you got my letter. Would you like to come in?

[hypnagothic]

I did. Thank you, Hob.

[ he steps in slowly, almost seeming unsure despite the clear invitation given. ]

[100more]

[ Hob steps aside to allow Dream to enter. The apartment is not much to look at. It's got a single bedroom and bathroom, judging by the door. There's a couch, a coffee table, and a small kitchen with a counter that can fit a couple of stools. There's also a round table and a pair of chairs.

The walls are stark and white and completely lacking in warmth or personality. The warmest thing in the room is Hob's smile. A few boxes are on the floor with some household items Hob has picked up. He must have been in the process of unpacking them when Dream arrived. ]

I haven't gathered much yet, but I can make you some tea, if you'd like.

[hypnagothic]

[ it's to be expected, of course, with him only having just arrived, but it still lends to a faint pang after the homeliness of the apartment they shared in the City. ]

As you will, if it does not tax your few supplies.

[100more]

[ The City apartment was twice as big, with more windows and an extra bedroom that was reserved for Dream. An apartment this size is only made for someone who expects to be living alone. ]

Not at all. The nice thing about this world is you can easily get more things if you need them.

[ Hob gets busy with retrieving a tea kettle and a tin out of one of the boxes, then carries them to the kitchen to get started on the beverages. ]

I take it you didn't have any trouble finding the place? I was worried I somehow got the address wrong.

[hypnagothic]

Yes, that is one of the more pleasant changes from the City.

[ he takes soft steps, a slow meander as Hob moves with more purpose, half wandering before he finds himself at the counter to watch him prep the tea. ]

I confess that I did not use the letter you wrote. I found you rather than the location.

[100more]

[ Even though Dream mentions it, Hob can't recall anything about that place. And yet, there's something about seeing Dream standing at the counter while he assembles the tea service that's... familiar. ]

Really? That's handy.

[ Hob places two cups as he waits for the kettle to boil. ]

Can you do that with anyone or just someone you know?

text; un: Hob

[100more]

Hello, old stranger. Are you getting along alright?

[hypnagothic]

[ not that this iteration of Hob would know, but Dream is still horrible at technology so it takes him some time to reply on the device though certainly not at long as this hell month has been because of my work kfsldkf. ]

Hob. I would ask that of you given the manner of your arrival. I trust you have settled as best as you are able?

[100more]

[ This Hob does not expect his friend to take to technology too quickly, either. ]

I have. Thank you.

[hypnagothic]

[ something something about eldritch creatures in modern times. ]

That is well. Did you suffer any difficulties during your enforced time in Moorecroft?

[100more]

No. My housemates were very kind. I hope yours were, as well.

[hypnagothic]

I am uncertain that I would describe Johanna Constantine and Loki Odinson as kind.

[100more]

What? Why do you say that?

[hypnagothic]

You are familiar with Constantine once more, are you not? And Loki is the God of Mischief.

im'mari mission { past the wan-moon’d abysses of night

[matermali]

[ i have liv’d o’er my lives without number ]

[ She has been sleeping little, eating less, and wielding moods that rarely cycle into anything alluring. No doubt, it has made her unbearable to be around, something she is keenly aware of and yet unable to change for any betterment. Vanessa is convinced that whatever has been growing within her was always there. Making contact with that creature had only awakened it—awakened her. The other her.

And what is left of her old self? How much of that has only been a shell? Only a body for something primordial to wear until the time is right? When that happens, will that thing be loved? Or will it be alone when her prophecy takes on a different form in this world?

She stares at the odd carmine color that the sky has shifted to for the moment, her breath fogging the window's glass, before her gaze shifts down to the streets below. The mission that Aurora had planned has grown into something twisted, infecting her and so many others. Vanessa knows that whatever lives in her has spread far and wide, and both terror and rage have manifested for many of the other denizens.

Her own pain is poisoning this realm.

Tears sting at her eyes, but she blinks them back when glancing over her shoulder as she senses him enter the room. Any relief she might feel at finding him unscathed is quickly muted by a jaded self-scolding.

What would the King of Nightmares have to fear? ]

I could have sworn that the sky was green earlier. Did you see it, or am I going mad?

[hypnagothic]

[ his own thoughts seem to have taken a dark turn of late, lingering on past hurts and slights he now acknowledges in the depths of himself, but he keeps his own counsel in such things and has not said anything aloud, even when directly asked by others when they catch him in a black mood. they're either ignored or interrupted curtly by him to change the subject, but that seems close enough to some of his more normal mannerisms that any change isn't obvious, even as they become more frequent.

his more active concern is Vanessa, though. he's become more accustomed to the patterns of needed maintenance for mortals so it's more obvious to him when her partaking of meals and habits seem to slack. he absolutely notices her lack of sleep, the foremost concern by his perspective. and it's this concern that brings him into the room now, searching for her. ]

It was. This place seems to be undergoing a change of late not unlike the nightmares I craft.

[matermali]

[ The harrowed thoughts he keeps hidden are not so hidden from her, the thing that has spread through her, and yet so far she has mostly resisted in trying to provoke them. Something in her still loves him too much to wish him further pain, even as it calls to her as though she were long starving.

Only more reason to hate herself. She hungers for the worst in everything and everyone.

One hand rests to the pendant beneath her nightgown, and she looks back to the window. Her reflection is more of a shadowed silhouette, but she takes no notice of that for favoring to search for the chaos outside. ]

Perhaps the one to craft these nightmares cannot help themselves.

[hypnagothic]

[ he steps further into the room, coming closer to stand just behind and to the side of her, his reflection in the window just at her shoulder. ]

You speak of Echo?

[matermali]

[ To that, she shakes her head, but she is too afraid to give voice to any further explanation.

In her glance to his reflection, she tilts her head. ]

Nightmares are not meant for the waking world, are they?

[hypnagothic]

[ he meets her eyes in the glass. ]

No. They should remain in dreams where the dreamer may confront their fears at their own pace.

[matermali]

[ As soon as he does, she's quick to look back out the window, watching the sky further darken. Night will soon fall, and she wonders what color that will take. ]

You are the one to help humans confront their fears, then. Is there no one to help you do the same?

[ Perhaps there is nothing he fears in the current time, but she has known of his pain in the past. She wants to know more of it, but is it to comfort him?

No, stop. You are being wicked, and you can't. Not with him. ]

[hypnagothic]

[ his gaze shifts from the window to her form beside him, his brows drawing low in mild confusion. ]

Confront my fears, my lady?