OPT-OUT EVENT LOG: DREAM A LITTLE DREAM

[asgardmods]

Who: EVERYONE that stayed in Asgard
What: the Dream a Little Dream mingle log
When: Day 515 ( Sept. 25/26 )
Where: all across the city!
Rating: PG-13. Anything higher than that should be taken to a private log, please!

Day 515 ( Sept. 25/26 )

Progress through the ice blockade will be slow and narrow, as they can't possibly hope to clear the entirety of the forest that has been buried under Thiazi's black ice. Now that they know the source of her magic's corruption, it might not come as a great surprise when cracking open the ice unleashes a strange burst of magic.

At the halfway point between Utgard and Asgard, a pulse of energy will move through the entire city, immediately putting every mortal it touches to sleep. This part of the curse is mandatory and your character must fall asleep; the dream effects of it are not mandatory, and can be played with at your discretion. During this first wave, Travellers will be granted a brief dream - that does not belong to them. They will see, from the dreamer's point of view, every hope and goal and aspiration that the dreamer wishes to complete before the end of days. Whether it's simply confessing their love to an old friend or saving their home planet or perfecting an Asgardian pie, your character will see someone else's ideal resolution before Ragnarok. More on plotting this below!

Upon waking, the Travellers will be plagued with the indistinct whispering of several voices overlapping one another and a slight headache. Both symptoms will gradually increase over time until it reaches incapacitating pain and nausea. The only way to assuage the symptoms is to find the owner of the dream and either maintain physical contact for an hour or discuss the subject of the dream until a full confession has been made. After that, the symptoms will fade and the Travellers will be free to carry on with their day.

There will be other pulses of magic at random throughout the day; these are not mandatory and you can feel free to have your character experience as many or as few dreams as you wish. All dream-sharing will cease by the end of the day, as the blockade progresses past that centre-point of magic.

[ OOC NOTES: This is the mingle log for the Dream a Little Dream opt-out event! Random pairings have already been sent out, but you guys can still feel free to plot with each and pair up anywhere you like. Please remember that these dreams are meant to be positive; details can be found here. Please put [OPEN/CLOSED] along with the time and location in the title of your comment. Let us know if you have any questions! ]

Comments

[allpurposescarf]

Ah, I know that exact feeling, as it happens.

[Sometimes he's deliberately tempted it too, when he's grown tired of doing the sort of things that people have wanted to do. After all, as long as what he's meant to do gets done, what's the harm in a little relaxation?]

But, yes, dreams. Strange things they are, sometimes, and yet they can be the most terribly entrancing.

[sheloves]

Yes, they can. [Her fingers curl against his chest and relax.] I like them most when they're about peace. Those dreams are the most incredibly rare. And I love them very much.

[allpurposescarf]

Mmm.

[There's a nod to go with the comment, and a moment of silence before he speaks up again.]

And all the more so during times like these, I'd imagine. We can do out best to make things work out, but even that takes work. Enough that true peace might yet be a while in the making.

[sheloves]

I don't think I have ever known what true peace is. [Her voice is a murmur, soft and drifting like the way her other hand closes around his wrist. She lets out a slow breath.] As long as we keep trying, keep working at it, we'll be fine.

[She half glances up at him and finds herself too tired to move anymore and stays there, her lips against his jawline.]

Or we'll learn to find our own peace whenever we can. Can live with that, mm?

[allpurposescarf]

It is terribly hard to find. Too many people, all with a variety of different opinions on what is - or should be! - important.

[Plus there's the fact that not every race is prone to wanting to get along. Some are more inclined to than others, yes, but even then old grudges can take a terribly long time to fade away.]

But yes, we can. A little peace can be just as good, after all.

[sheloves]

Then I am pleased to be finding it here with you. [There's an odd note to her voice, as if it wants to wobble when it should be firm. She is tired on so many levels these days, but she's always moving forward. He's very much a part of the why. The tip of her nose, cool still, finds his cheek.]

However long it lasts. [It won't be long. It never is. She's quiet for awhile, just taking it in, this moment. Her lips curve.] When I was very small, my mothers took me to the orbital station to see the stars. When I looked out on them, [She reaches a hand up as if caught in the memory of her fingers bathed in starlight.] I believed in forever.

[allpurposescarf]

[That's the trouble with it, sometimes. The most wonderful things are also the most fleeting. The hardest to find too, unless one is either looking for them or simply taking matters when and as they come.

But he doesn't mention it. There isn't even so much as whisper of it, both on his lips and in the gentle and aimless drift of his mind. Instead, he listens quietly, offering a nod at the comment about believing in forever.

He doesn't speak again until a moment after that, soft and quiet in that as well.]

It was never the stars, for me, I don't think. But then I went to see the Medusa Cascade, and oh, you should have seen it. If I hadn't wanted to leave before then, I would have, after that. After seeing the colors of that nebula stretched out over the seas of darkness and starlight.

[sheloves]

Mm, I would enjoy that sight. [Her lips brush his his jawline as she murmurs.] So many beautiful things when you take the time to look.

[Her fingers settle against his hair, her touch light and absent. It calms her, keeps her connected.]

[allpurposescarf]

I'd show you what I could of it, but memories are never really quite the same. But yes, there's so much to see that's worth the travel. So many things that so many people never even imagine could be out there.

[There's a soft smile as her fingers curl into his hair and her lips brush gently across his jawline. He's more than willing to let her find whatever comfort she needs in him; the passing drift of his mind doesn't become any less vague but it does take on a tone that he'd hope is more in line with the general idea of comfort. And if that comes along with images of fields of red grass under burnt orange skies perhaps that's no surprise.]

[sheloves]

Mmm. [Her words are soft and lazy, like the way her fingers lift errant curls, nudging them this way and that. Touching, forever touching, that is her greatest comfort. Being touched, too. It's good.] It reminds me of my own world, the skies do. The great dust clouds stain the skies to rust. A massive storm hit the day I began my transition to Pilot. It was...incredible.

[There's a hum and her breath against his cheek.]

I would like the grass upon my fingertips.

[allpurposescarf]

I'd have liked to see that.

[He's not usually a fan of duststorms, true, but he'd be willing enough to make an exception for something noted to be incredible. That it might make - might have made, perhaps - the skies look more like the skies of Gallifrey is simply an added bonus.]

Mmm, I don't blame you. It was good for that. And for running in, too, even if not everyone bothered.

[sheloves]

[Her fingers are gentle against his cheek, her thumb sweeping against his skin as she smiles, warm and lazy like her words.]

Come see. I can remember one of the larger storms from my childhood. You do not want to see the one that hit during my Transition. I would remember the pain of it, the heat. You do not want that.

[The curve of her lips is a slight smile.]

I would bother to run. That sounds like fun to me.

[allpurposescarf]

It was.

[True the enjoyment is a little bittersweet now, and most of the memories of those days tinged with regret but the freedom of those days is still worth the memory. The rest of Gallifrey tends to be sort of hit or miss, and more the latter than the former.

(The events of his most recent return, while not so recent as they'd once been, don't exactly help matters either.)]

One for another?

[His memory of the fields of red grass for hers of the dust storm, he means. True, it might be harder to share on his end, but he's more than willing to figure it out if there's interest enough in it.]

[sheloves]

That is a good thing to trade. [And there, she brings up the memory of the storm she watched once while she was at the Observatory with its clear dome exposed. The cinnamon crackling swirl of dust and light arcs of gold electricity creating such a sight. It brought no rain, but scoured everything it touched, wild, beautiful it its own right, but deadly. Sometimes there were flecks of bright colors, things it had caught up that weren't nailed down, but in the end, those disappeared, too. But she loved watching the storms, it was nature at its finest, raw as anything could be.]

[allpurposescarf]

[There's a brief nod at her comment - he's glad to see that the trade makes sense to more than just him - and than he's all but lost in the memory she offers. And it is lovely, too. Like nothing else he's seen in all his days of travel, and even with the scouring touch of the dust it doesn't seem all that bad.

(All the same, he's very glad that the memory is from somewhere inside. He's not sure he'd like the chances on survival for anyone caught out in it.)

He's silent for a long moment, as the memory plays out. It's a moment to be enjoyed, and what need is there for words, then?

It's only when the memory of the dust storm seems to be reaching its end that he pulls up his own memory in kind. Properly, this time, instead of the flickering glimpses of before.

There is a sort of hitch in the fabric of the memories around them as he figures out how to get the memory out of his mind - things still don't work quite as he's used to, and this is a new thing besides - but eventually those fields of red grass do spring to life. Red grass under a dust-orange, waving gently in the breeze. It tickles a little too underfoot; he must have been running barefoot in the grass all those years ago and the sheer enjoyment of the moment comes through all the clearer for it.

(He tries to not think too hard on his friend-that-was, but even so it doesn't feel entirely like he's alone either - there's impressions of another mind nearby, and another voice too, even if it's one that's been muted to nothing more than a murmur of noise by the long years it's been since he last ran through the wide fields of Gallifrey.)]

[sheloves]

[She lets out a slow breath, nestling into him, quiet, calm, and delighted, humming her pleasure with a soft smile against his jawline. It's beautiful, it really is.

From the scenery to the childlike glee of it, it really is beautiful. So young, the both of them in these memories, so free from everything to come. Her fingertips brush through his curls absently, content for the first time in a long while.]

[allpurposescarf]

[So very young, yes, and not touched by that which had come later. But he's never quite regretted the changes, even when it means no longer being quite who he was once, all those long centuries ago.

Still, he's glad enough for the shared contentment, even after the memory of that day out in the fields of red grass winds down to an end. He isn't even in a hurry to break the silence either. Not when there's a sort of shared contentment filling the air (and it would be a shame to mar that anyway).]