The Other Kind of Not Fade Away

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Charricthran Dreams My Dudes Some Art Too The Bird Has Emotions
The Other Kind of Not Fade Away
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Tairais
Tairais 
@Amuulzhaan 2 years ago
(( So! First things first, basically the short version of the reason for this is that my brain was like: Hey Tai. Richard's comatose. Do something cool with Charricthran you lazy unmotivated butt. To which I responded: Fine you big jerk, you stop being an uninspired arse. Then my brain countered with the doodle that's attached in the story.
Secondly, since The Other (Charricthran's.. mind palace? Pocket dimension?) is a reflection of the connection (and disconnect) between Char's mind and Char's magic, I was like hey hey, what if he starts dreaming or thinking and wanders into someone else's dreams or thoughts? I thought that was cool, so here we are. Char can't interact outside of what your characters want him to do, so if they ignore him, he'll just be a passive observer. If you talk to him, he'll talk, etc etc. It's like a slumber party, we're all gonna share secrets and talk about the boys we like. Literally, in his case.
Thirdly, the two references are to a Grateful Dead song and, since the thread is about dreams, the Fade, which is the realm of spirits and magic in the Dragon Age setting. Technically I guess there's three references if you count me mentioning the Other in the title. Why am I rambling so much? Someone stop me before I annoy more people.
ANYWAYS: In which Charricthran mopes, emotional stress isn't good for shadow-goo-bodies [who knew?], and the borders between The Other and other realms aren't quite as solid as we'd all like. ))
Charricthran had once gotten a series of questions he still didn't have good answers for.
What was the point of having eternal life? What was the point of near-immortality? What was the point of being a god? Why was he still going? What motivated him?
Apparently 'spite' was not an appropriate answer.
Fair enough. It wasn't the whole truth anyways.
There was a distant peal of thunder, the shockwave of which traveled across the grassy plains below him. The Other stretched out for miles on all sides of him, perched as he was atop one of many cathedral-like mesas he trapped his memories in.
After all, an organized mind was a focused mind, and a focused mind was a safe mind. Doubly so when multiple people possessed the ability to traipse through it.
Not that he thought Catt or Lewis- and especially not Richard- would seek him harm any time soon though certain truths come to light could certainly change that, but it never hurt to be safe. It certainly hurt him less to be safe.
But he digressed, as he so often did.
He watched as the violet fires of the Amuulzhaanir scorched across the sky, rending the clouds apart like the claws of so many terrible dragons. Now and then the angry stormclouds would gather, groups of them swirling like eyes in the sky before they ripped apart and hurled white-violet lightning down, ever arcing down to meet the embrace of the obsidian-and-glass structures below. The light dancing within would cast very odd shadows anywhere else.
Here? Here there were only hues of twilight scattered across a blanket of shadows. Light and darkness as viewed underwater, where everything bled into everything and nothing had meaning because of it. Here there was only the suggestion of anything but shadow, filtered by whatever kind of perception graced it.
Here, sitting in the crow's nest (or raven's nest, as it were) of the very personification of his time as a sailor, he had too much time to think.
Perhaps that was now his purpose. To think upon the truths of so many distant worlds.
It was one of the unofficial ones, at least.
The truths of the world were not his avenues of thought this time. It was the truths of himself that needed facing and untangling from the rest of his terrible thoughts.
He was terrible. Plain and simple.
He wanted, complex and intricate. Terribly.
Echos of thought from the night that had started this whole mess of tying and untying threads of thought in a futile effort to analyze, dissect, categorize. He was human, after all. He kept forgetting that he was, underneath the tar and smoke of everything else that he was.
You could never account for human error. Said error this time was allowing himself to feel. Feeling emotions in general was a human error he could ill-afford.
Feelings this strong, with as much time and energy as he had on his hands to think and process and act and change? A terrible f*cking idea- who allowed that?
You see, the thing about those kinds of feelings was that they tended towards obsession. He did not obsess kindly. He loved kindly, gently even (unless told to otherwise by the subject of his love, which was an exception with its own rules), but he did not obsess kindly.
Obsession was for the darker urges he'd utilized as an assassin-spy-murderer-thief-pirate-heretic-marauder-et cetera, for the mage reaching ever on for forbidden knowledge, and for the creature of glass-and-teeth, beak-and-bone, and of feather-and-tar that personified all those things. That creature did not love or obsess gently at all.
And therein lay the problem. One he would not solve with as little information as he had.
He rose to his feet in time to watch the storm that had been raging all throughout his thoughts calm, dissipated forcibly by the bolt of his focus, personified in the red-hot blaze of a different sort of lightning across the sky.
The Amuulzhaanir took that as their cue to flee back into the forest, their shrieking calls echoing throughout the planes.
In the distance, he could hear the faint song of one of the Leviathans of an old friend, seen through the eyes of crows rather than ravens. For a moment, he allowed his mind to sing in tune with the creature, to pass the message that all was well and he need not worry for his safety.
Torke's heart began to beat erratically in his chest, prompting him to look down and sigh in irritation.
His body was no longer forming right. Specifically, the hands of his terrible construct were slightly awry. He lifted one such hand to examine it further, though his frustration meant that when he clenched it into a fist, his nails punctured through skin and black ichor underneath, leaving it to coalesce and trail sluggishly down his arm.
The features of the Other blurred, and he was standing in a quiet grove abandoned by trees and guarded by jagged, towering spires of obsidian the reflected a place long since visited, no longer with a name. The sihlouette of a pair of his wings greeted him as his vision began to blue and fade into the surrounding, pressing darkness, comforting in their weight.
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What was not comforting was the influence his inner conflict was having on his body. It was the polar opposite of comfort, frankly- more akin to a thousand needles pushing just so into the underside of his skin, prickling and scraping along the few lasting scars he had.
It was irritating, but mostly, it was disconcerting.
It was also not the only thing prickling across his skin.
He looked up from where his gaze had drifted to his hand and realized that he was now mere steps away from a Border, pulled by the strange currents in his magic he had long since abandoned hope of understanding. He paused to weave his usual attire out of the surrounding darkness (since he had been wandering around shirtless for the sake of feeling the wind in his feathers and hair), then took a slow, measured breath.
The allure of what lay beyond the shimmering blue-violet of one of the Borders was all too tempting and welcome a distraction from his thoughts (the smell of burning silk, a wolfish gleam in a single pair of green-brown-black eyes. The wince of behavior he couldn't have stopped treading on someone else's toes- he'd do better next time. He owed-).
He let out that slow breath and stepped forward into a different sort of thought, and an unusual source of distraction.
A dream. Perhaps a nightmare- it depended on who it belonged to.
(( It's almost 6 in the morning as I'm finishing writing this, so if someone could do me the huge favor of pointing out any spelling/grammatical/structural failures in this, that'd be great. I need to try and catch some sleep now. Enjoy and have fun! ))
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The Fox • 2 years ago
( HUHUHUHUHUHUHUHUUuuuu....I'm definitely going to do this one later.... >w>~ )
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The Fox • 2 years ago
This dream again...
Callum scowled with a sigh as the all too familiar scene began to form. He leaned back against a darkened wall as he watched the shapeless indigo void shift and swirl around him. In front of him, just a little ways away, a door opened up, a warm, comforting light glowing from the room inside. In between him and the doorway stood a pale, faceless woman and a matching young boy holding onto her dress.
Her dress was rough but homely, a dusty apron tied over it, while the boy was patched up clothes, clearly given to him out of charity.
Tears ran down the woman's face as she reached out to Callum. A soft sob echoed out and filled the void with desperation.
" Cal...lum...Callum... "
His eyes grew sharp and he stepped forward to the figure with a fist. The woman went to take him into her arms but was thrown to the ground instead. The boy was thrown back and Callum slammed his heel into the woman's back. She sobbed harder as she called out even more desperately.
" Callum...Come back, please... "
Her plea was meet with snarl and a heavy hand slamming her head down.
" I don't even know ya, ya f*ck'in hell b*tch! How many times do I have ta tell ya?! Just f*ck off already! "
His eyes turned yellow and his claws grew long and dangerous. His hair started growing thicker while he became more and more agitated.
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Tairais  The Fox • 2 years ago
His exhale ended on someone else's cry and was suspended in a strange sort of desperation. It was entirely impossible to tell where, precisely, the feeling came from.
Was it from the woman with neither name nor face? Was it from the boy, silent and perhaps unresponsive?
Was it from the creature he had met only once or twice before, and nevermore? The word echoed in his mind, unbidden.
'Nevermore, nevermore.'
Keh. Quoth the raven.
"Typically speaking, I find that dreams often change if we do what we least would."
He sat cross-legged in mists of indigo, shapes half-familiar to them both floating and twisting within.
His eyes were black in the minds of others, and pupiless. Pitiless almost. Empty eyes for an empty mouth and a voice that whispered ethereally across realms.
He could no more control what he said than one could control a river. His ties to the Other had led him here, and they would lead him where they would until they brought him home again.
In a similar manner, they would reveal himself to the Dreamer of this realm only if they wished, however small the sentiment.
In this way, his words would only be heard by those willing to listen.
(( Glad to see you again! ))
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The Fox  Tairais • 2 years ago • edited
Alarm shot through Callum. He whipped around and gave the newcomer a shocked, angry glare. His body quivered with rampant outrage and he proceeded to yell at Charricthran.
" And who THE F*CK DO YA ARE EH?!? How'd ya even GET HERE?! YOU SH*T EAT'IN C*CK!! GO BACK TO HELL, YA HEAR?? "
Callum's eyes flashed a bright yellow and his teeth became wild and vicious. For as much as he wanted to, he couldn't actually turn in his dreams, but that didn't stop him from trying. A thin coat of fur started forming, joined his hair and giving him a strange, in-between look of a man and a monster.
The woman beneath his heel tried to move from underneath him but he he slammed his foot down, a sickening crack filling the space.
( Glad to see you too! :D )
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Tairais  The Fox • 2 years ago
He cocked his head and watched, from somewhere distant amid the fog, as his eyes glittered like oil slicks and dying stars; the teeth of something far more ancient and terrible, long since slumbering.
It was not afraid of creatures like these. It saw and understood- how can you fear what you understand?
Its voice whispered and danced from all directions. Its voice and eyes did not soften, but its next words did not fall like the bullets they could have been.
"You are angry. Good. Anger keeps you alive when there is nothing left. It is a messy thing though, isn't it? There is nothing to fight, only something to fight. Your rage will not help here. You would not hear in order to not listen, so speak calmly and be spoken to."
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The Fox  Tairais • 2 years ago
" GET! OUT! OR ELSE I'LL REALLY SHOW YOU SOMETHING TO GET MAD ABOUT!! "
He tried to push his body harder, trying to force himself into his more fearsome self. What he wouldn't give to sink his teeth into whatever the f*ck it was that was talking to him. It had to be a demon of some sort, otherwise how could it invade his dream like this? He's fought demons before, he wasn't afraid of tall, dark, and creepy in the distance. Why the hell should he calm down?
He only answered to one and it certainly wasn't this half wit!
Callum grimaced as his face pushed forward, becoming half a snout with his skin pulled taut across its surface. Blood flowed from his nose as he bared his teeth, taking up a fighting stance with claws outstretched.
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Tairais  The Fox • 2 years ago
"You pulled me here, not-quite-wolf. It would be that I can no sooner leave than you might calm your temper."
His eyes glittered again and he no longer felt as if he were watching his body move independently of him. A relief, to be sure, but he could still not act of his own accord.
At least the tide had washed him on interesting shores.
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The Fox  Tairais • 2 years ago • edited
" Oh f*ck OFF with thaaaAaAAUUUUggHgH!!! "
Callum went to launch himself at the shade but pulled back suddenly. His body was revolting, pulling his features back to a more manageable form. He grit his teeth as his snout pulled back into a human face, a warm sense of pain coming over his face. The trail of blood from his nose flowed more heavily. His fur grew thinner as it receded back into his skin.
He squeezed his eyes shut at a steadily approaching migraine. He went to put a hand up to his head but found the boy holding onto it in quiet defiance. Though he had no face to speak of, Callum could've sworn he could feel eyes staring him down.
Callum threw back a scowl and threw the boy back down. He went and stood over the fallen child and put a boot on his head, leaning his whole weight on in. A soft crack could be heard, not unlike the crack of an egg, and a bloody, yolk-like liquid spilled out onto the ground.
The woman cried out at the sight and made an attempt to crawl towards the boy.
Callum took a moment to steady himself and growl back to his unwanted companion. His eyes bloodshot had returned to their regular color but his anger still burned bright in their depths.
" Well if you aren't goin to leave, I might as well cut this dream short. So talk all ya want, I ain't listening no more. "
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Tairais  The Fox • 2 years ago
Charricthran said nothing, merely continued to stare down at Callum with its dead, blackened eyes.
Something distant- belonging to him rather than the nothingness-everything-emptiness that was The Other- wanted to laugh at the pointless rage of this creature. All he was doing was sitting there. The man wouldn't have heard him were he truly, completely adverse to the chance of an impartial source of advice.
Ah well. Some people merely ran through life with magma in their veins. Torke had been one of those sorts of people- though, he amended, it was plasma, not magma that coarsed through his.
Irrelevant thoughts nonetheless.
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The Fox  Tairais • 2 years ago • edited
Charricthran's silence bothered Callum. For Christ's sake, what was this things DEAL? If it wasn't here to kill him and it wasn't here by its own will, what did it want?
He didn't bother looking back at his audience and simply went about his business, making the dream continue forward. Stepping forward, he put his foot to the woman's head just like he did the boy while she whimpered to him pitifully. The feeling of heartbreak was heavy in the air around him. She made one last attempt to call out to him.
" Callum...Please...I lov-- "
The same red, yolkish substance pooled around the shattered remains of what was once a head. Callum stared apathetically at her remains before heading for the door, some of the wet substance still clinging on his shoes.
The moment he entered the doorway, the fire went out and the room became dark and cold. The place was small and thrown together, the center room being the kitchen, with two other door ways leading to cramped bedrooms. A small table sat in the center with a few chairs tucked away in stray corners.
Callum looked around the place and let out a loud sigh. With one hand, he picked up a nearby chair and placed it right next to the table. Dust flew up as he took his seat at the table.
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Tairais  The Fox • 2 years ago
He watched for a little while longer, then unfolded his legs so that he was standing on the floor as any other creature would.
What and who do you dream of? What is its purpose? Why do you dream of it, and why were they here? The questions weren't asked verbally in any way shape or form, but they bounced against the walls of the dream regardless.
There had to be a reason. He would not have been pulled this way if there wasn't. The sooner he found the reason out, the sooner he could leave, and the less likely it was this not-quite-wolf would try to maul him in the real world.
Not that said mauling would succeed for very long, but it was still painful and something he really didn't want to deal with.
There were silver threads laced around Callum's neck, and he wondered if Callum knew of their existence. More than likely, he did. Whether or not it was consciously or subconsciously was irrelevant. Much like his train of thought.
He crossed his arms and leaned against the wall, unbothered by the cold. Dead eyes took in the details of the dead, dark room and savored the taste of heartbreak and almost-blood lingering in the air.
Why was he here? He clearly wasn't wanted all that much.
"Why do you kill them, not-wolf?"
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The Fox  Tairais • 2 years ago • edited
" Why not? "
Callum threw a tired glance at the stranger, his anger collapsing into exhaustion.
" If I don't, I have to listen to them cry and whine all night. If I do, I can at least get some peace and quiet. Besides, I don't even know who they are. So why bother... "
He rubbed his hand across his face, unconcerned with smearing the blood across his face. He looked over Charricthran with a steady eye. This one was a weird one for sure. Normally, when it came to demons, they made themselves as pleasant as possible, hiding away all the tell-tale signs of their otherworldly origins. But this one...either he was that ugly or he didn't care what he looked like.
A minute passed.
" Who are ya anyways? Or what for that matter? "
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Tairais  The Fox • 2 years ago
He tilted his head again and grinned, mouth full of shark-like teeth. There was neither warmth nor malice behind thing grin- a puppet-like gesture for a puppet-like being.
"As far as we both know, I am everything and nothing at once. To more directly answer your question, I am whatever you expect me to be, when you expect it to be. As of now, that appears to be an otherworldly interloper, which is perhaps the closest thing to truth we shall get."
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The Fox  Tairais • 2 years ago • edited
A humorless laugh came from Callum.
Oh God, this couldn't end soon enough.
He sniffed and got up, dusting his pants off as he approached the curious being.
" Well then riddle me this, What's this all about eh? If you're the closest thing to truth right now, why don't you tell me what all this nonsense means? Cause I sure as hell don't know why I keep com'in back here. "
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Tairais  The Fox • 2 years ago
He shrugged and it was somehow an elegant gesture, like mist sluggishly unfurling in the darkness.
"Presently, my assumption towards this-" He spread out his arms to indicate the the dream in its entirety, watching as motes of smoke and shadow flickered from the borders of his outline. "-Is that your mind is working to recover something. A memory? A sense of control lost before some traumatizing event? Hidden guilt perhaps, or doubt in some form? These are questions I cannot answer, merely offer you the chance to address. Sometimes, walking down the unknown path is the key to swimming out of madness."
His eyes tracked Callum as he drew closer, and he wondered what the not-wolf-not-man would do. Would he rend this form to smoke and dust with tooth and claw, or would he simply watch as he was being watched?
Interesting either way.
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The Fox  Tairais • 2 years ago
" This? THIS??? "
Callum threw his arms out in sarcastic mimicry of Charricthran's motions.
" THIS...This is all bullsh*t. I've never been with a woman, never had a child, never even had a place to stay! I've been nothing but peachy these last twenty years and there can't be anything I don't know about myself, ya here?
Orin's been good to me and I could never ask for anything better. "
He laughed again and plopped back down into the chair, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration. Why was he wasting time with this? Did he truly have nothing better to do? Must be. Or perhaps this was another test of his will from Orin. It was certainly like him to test him out of nowhere, especially considering how long its been since his last test. It had to have been two years now, maybe three?
Who knows...At the very least, the creature was pleasant enough. Annoying certainly, but pleasant overall.
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Tairais  The Fox • 2 years ago
He shrugged and tilted head in a sort of half-nod, conceding the point to Callum.
"In that case, perhaps the dream belongs to someone else. Something else, even? You do mingle with 'things' and 'beings', yes? Tell me then, is such an idea possible? I would not know."
(( Sorry for the delay/short post, had an unplanned overnight stay at my friend's house ^^" ))
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The Fox  Tairais • 2 years ago • edited
Callum snapped back.
" Well, of course I do! What'd ya think I do, sit around and twiddle my thumbs?! "
He lifted a hand to take him by the throat but stopped himself.
Instead, he clenched his hand into a tight fist and turned away. Callum let out a string of curses under his breath and went to push the chair under the table. Considering his temper however, the chair was more shoved under the table, making the table slide back a few inches, making a grinding noise as it did.
He stormed across the dark room and threw open one of the bedroom doors. Distant sounds of people walking about the room and chatting came to him like whispers on a breeze. The bed in the room was messy, like someone had just gotten up, and was still warm from whoever had been sleeping there.
To his right was a patchwork dresser and to his left, was a little nightstand of sorts, with a small mirror hanging on the wall above it.
( It's alright! I don't mind! :> )
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Tairais  The Fox • 2 years ago
"You seem more inclined towards punching a wall in rage rather than something so still as twiddling your thumbs, frankly. Where does your rage come from, I wonder?"
He leaned against the door frame and crossed his arms, casual as could be as he listened along to the after-images of people suspended on dust. It was a sensation he was familiar with, prevalent in certain regions of his own mind.
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The Fox  Tairais • 2 years ago • edited
Callum didn't say anything in response, only throwing a sharp glare back to Charricthran before entering the room.
He walked past the nightstand, turning away from the mirror as he did. The mirror seemed to be reflecting a different scene entirely, with the light of early morning peeking into the room. When Callum passed it, a dark shadow came into the scene, stealing the life away from the reflection and turning daylight into darkness.
As that happened, the room went silent. No whispers could be heard as Callum's heavy steps made the wood creak underneath him.
He paused and leaned down to pick up a dusty coin. He wiped it with his shirt and pocketed before it could be seen by Charrictran.
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Tairais  The Fox • 2 years ago
Charricthran likely wouldn't have noticed the gesture even if Callum had been hell-bent on being obvious about it, entranced as he was by the strangeness of the mirror. Granted, this was a dream in the mind of a strange creature, so he perhaps shouldn't have been quite so preoccupied.
Ah, well. What was done was done.
Naturally he began to wonder of the psychological ramifications of Callum passing by an incorrect reflection in his dream. The little sort of details he'd file away for if he ever came face-to-face with this creature in the real world.
Not for the first time, nor even for the first hundredth time, he wished he had the foresight of his friend and mentor (who was thankfully of a kinder disposition towards him than Richard's were). The wish brought to mind the memories of the Leviathan that had skirted the edge of The Other shortly before he'd departed.
Perhaps he'd pay a visit. The Void was always such a lovely place..
He redirected his mind back to the events at hand, now watching both Callum and the mirror for... anything, really. Changes, movements, shifts, magics, et cetera.
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The Fox  Tairais • 2 years ago • edited
Callum didn't stay in the room for much longer. Aside from a quick glance at the bed, he made his way out of the, shoving past Charricthran as he did.
The mirror didn't change much, but when Callum passed, a glow could be seen where he had stowed the coin away.
The kitchen area had changed since they were last there. The wood of the second bedroom door was twisted and old, stained by an unearthly touch. To its left, on the opposite wall, a new doorway could be seen. This door seemed to be breathing, a strange life flowing through its wood and making it dark and gnarled.
Callum paid this new addition no mind and forced the second door open.
It was a child's room, sparsely furnished with just a bed and a drawer made from scratch. It seemed to also act as storage room and guest room, seeing as the corners of the room were filled with blankets and clothes freshly laundered.
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Tairais  The Fox • 2 years ago
Callum needn't have shoved past Charricthran as much as he did- he wondered if the man had noticed his not-really-solid form when his body passed through it.
Probably not. His irritation and rage seemed to blind him to many things.
With a final glance over his shoulder at the intriguing mirror, he stepped back into the kitchen, tucking the picture of the glow from Callum's pocket into his mind as he did so. His movements made no sound, nor were there footprints or steps against the ground.
He refrained from lingering in the doorway this time and instead stood just shy of it, doing his best to remain a quiet, watchful presence. Distantly, he wondered what would have happened had Callum not noticed his presence to begin with.
Ah well. He'd find out at a later date, perhaps. If not, no great loss.
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The Fox  Tairais • 2 years ago • edited
The creaking of the floorboards beneath him was soft, almost like a sigh from some lonely creature. Dust floated up as he made his way into the room.
Strangely enough, despite there being no light, Callum's shadow stretched out across the floor from his boots. Another presence could be felt within the shadow, one that didn't take kindly to Charricthran's being there.
A soft groan escaped Callum's lips and he took a seat on the small, cramped bed with a hand to his head. A gentle ache was forming, throbbing lightly against his skull.
Great...
The world around him began to blur into muted shapes and colors. A lightheaded took over and then he was gone, or it felt like it anyways.
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Callum's body went slack and fell back against the wall, sliding down and flopping onto the bed unconscious.
From his shadow, a dark form emerged carrying with it the heavy scent of fresh earth. It was shaped like a tall hunting hound, its fur sleek and its ears pointed.
It stood in the center of the room, its form gathering shape, and the room started to give way to tall, grey trees that reached to the sky.
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Tairais  The Fox • 2 years ago
Charricthran merely crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow at the gargantuan creature growing in the center of the grove, noting that the trees were similar to the ones in The Other.
See, the thing about otherworldly creatures? The really bad ones didn't bother with all the posturin' stuff when dealing with their own kind. Case in point: him. His magic was another story- there were only so many ways for that mirror to reflect itself. Truth be told, the height was all Torke, as was all the extra glass and the like. Equal parts posturing and a true reflection of himself- look no further than the forces of nature he embodied, frankly.
Grandiose, explosive, then dissipating until his strength was regained. That was how Torke worked. The merge between their souls was gonna change him one way or another. Frankly, it wasn't the worst.
He had gotten himself sidetracked with... justifications to himself. The thought made him roll his eyes- psychologists would've had a field day.
The point was, he wasn't impressed.
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The Fox  Tairais • 2 years ago • edited
The one thing about beasts, the one unspoken rule of their kind, was that you had to be a good showman in order to be successful. Now granted, that was a rule you didn't have to follow, but one bad move was paid with your dignity or your life.
Orin had mastered his act. He knew how much to put forth without losing his power over lesser beings.
Unlike Khoros, who's entrances bordered on aggressive and inflated, he kept his quick and subtle, enough to show that he is not to be played with.
This creature, however, seemed unimpressed. Orin took note of this before opening his eyes to look the stranger over.
He took a step forward and looked the shadowy figure over with a discerning eye.
This was no beast, that's for sure...Perhaps a spirit or demon of sorts. If they're latter he would have to be very careful with how he approached them...
He flicked an ear casually as he meet Charricthran's gaze with a cool look of his own. His blue eyes held a seriousness about them, a cue that he would not bow to Charricthran in any way.
His voice came in a low, smooth tone, a hard edge very clear as he spoke.
--" Who are you and what do you want with Callum? You must understand that you are meddling in my affairs and I will have no interference between me and my host. "--
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Tairais  The Fox • 2 years ago
"I don't want anything. The Shifting Paths saw fit to bring me here as I was wandering- for what reason, I'll admit I cannot confess to know."
He unfurled his arms in the same elegant shrug he had given Callum before dropping his arms to his side with an almost wry sort of expression.
"I do not care to steal the hosts of others. I have no need for them, nor the powers of their patrons. Have I missed anything?
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The Fox  Tairais • 2 years ago • edited
The faintest hint of a scowl flickered across Orin's face but it swiftly vanished, a more inquiring look taking its place.
--" Smirk all you like...Necessarily I would believe you if you weren't so cozy here. In any case, you ARE interfering with my affairs and I would ask that you exit the same way you came. "--
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Tairais  The Fox • 2 years ago
There was a flicker of irritation across his features, making his displeasure with the whole affair known.
"I would have left when he cracked the skulls of two figments of his dream like eggshells if I were able. Was my facade of joviality that convincing? Oh dear." He sighed softly. "Can't be helped, I suppose. At any rate, the only way I'll be able to leave is if the kid wakes up."
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The Fox  Tairais • 2 years ago
--" You wish it were that simple... "--
Orin tucked his ears back and growled. Beneath him, the floor turned to soil and the trees around them grew thicker. His eyes flashed out in warning.
--" The thing is, I can't let him go any deeper into his dream, unless you want to see what happens when a host goes somewhere they don't need to go. So you either show your way out or you get thrown out by me. "--
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Tairais  The Fox • 2 years ago
Charricthran spread out his arms again and laughed. It was not a mirthful sound- it dripped with disdain.
"Throw me then. My point was, I can't leave on my own."
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The Fox  Tairais • 2 years ago
The flippant attitude of the creature irked Orin greatly but he didn't show this. Instead he scoffed, baring his teeth in return. Truth was, he didn't know how, but it's in times like this when you make your enemy show what he truly knows.
He stepped closer, signaling for Charicthran to move with him.
--" Come on then...No use waiting here. I'll escort you out. "--
Privately, he thought back to a similar instance with a demon of equal irritation. That, however, was a more dire circumstance. That was a matter much greater than invaders in dreams.
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Helen Jekyll • 2 years ago
(Oooooh, this looks like fun! :DDD
Hmmm, which nightmare to use...)
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Tairais  Helen Jekyll • 2 years ago
(( All. ))
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Helen Jekyll  Tairais • 2 years ago
((Seriously? :D))
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Tairais  Helen Jekyll • 2 years ago
(( Go for it, I've got ages :P ))
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Helen Jekyll  Tairais • 2 years ago
((Woo! :D *runs off to find my notes*))
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Wizardblizzard • 2 years ago • edited
From the wilderness of "the Other", Charricthran stepped into a long, whitewashed room which had been fitted out as a laboratory. A young woman and an older man were bending over a table crowded with glass vessels, papers, notebooks and jars of chemicals. It seemed as if they'd been at this for some time already. Two large beakers of water were currently taking up their attention. The girl took up a salt spoon and a jar of vividly orange powder labelled "Chloride of Gold". She stirred a tiny amount into one beaker, turning the water lemon yellow.
"Careful with that, Bell," warns the man.
"I am being." She nodded, and picked up a package labelled "Rochelle Salt".
Looking up, they noticed Charricthran, but neither seemed surprised by the presence of a stranger with feathers in his hat and some other places. Wary, perhaps, in the girl's case, but not surprised. They were behaving as if they thought he'd been there all along. "Nearly done now," the young woman said to him.
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Tairais  Wizardblizzard • 2 years ago
Well then. Color him intrigued if they were expecting him.
He stood where he was and watched intently with dream-dead eyes of oil and tar, allowing the currents of "Bell's" dream- and he could tell it was hers, though not by any explainable means- to carry him through his role like a marionette dancing on strings. It was up to her to pull them, though.
He scanned his surroundings in a languorous sort of way, taking in the cluttered spaces and watching the play of light and shadow along the sterile blankness of the walls and floors.
Somewhere distant, he shuddered internally for the sake of Richard. Laboratories were terrible things. Empty walls and harsh floors even more so.
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Wizardblizzard  Tairais • 2 years ago
((Hello! Sorry for the delay - it took a while for me to make up my mind what to make it be about, and after that whenever I tried to sort out the details I started reading about chemistry and got distracted!
Curiosity's sake, how DID you tell whose it was?))
"Bell" kept one eye on Charricthran, who seemed to make her nervous, but kept working. She measured out some of the salt into the other beaker, and stirred until it had all disappeared. "And for my next trick..." she said with satisfaction, and tipped one solution into the other. 
Then she took a hasty step back as the mixture began to fizz violently. Slowly it turned an almost luminous green. 
She watched this performance with a harassed expression. "That's not right. I'm sorry, I can't make anything come out today," she said apologetically to Charricthran. 
The man continued to behave as if nothing had happened, as dream people tend to.
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Tairais  Wizardblizzard • 2 years ago
(( I assumed based on the fact she was the one to get mentioned by name first. Not the soundest form of logic, but more often than not it's proven right when I've done something like this and everything's all... nebulous? Anyways :P ))
Charricthran nodded his head sideways in a manner that was meant to convey a shrug.
"Science is fickle in its demands for perfection. Not to worry, I have faith that you will do better next time. Wouldn't want to disappoint, after all."
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Catt Hatter • 2 years ago
Moonlight shone through the tall velvet trees, casting long straight shadows on the thin layer of snow which covered the ground. The snow crunched under the shoes of this dreams owner as they walked steadily up the gentle slope towards the clearing through which the silver spectre peered. They carried a top hat in one hand that seemed it would be too large for their head, if they put it on.
A chill breeze whispered around the new arrival.
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Tairais  Catt Hatter • 2 years ago
A small grin graced his features, and his eyes threatened to flicker back to their usual red, cat-like things. He kept them from doing so, of course, because that'd lead to the psychic/metaphysical/mental equivalent of getting backhanded with a war hammer and then bashed in the face with a shield.
Eyes were the windows to the soul after all. He couldn't fall back into his while wandering the borders of someone else's- that'd be all kinds of dangerous.
He liked Catt's dream quite a bit: having lived in the southern climates of his home realm for much of his long life, snow was something he was endlessly enchanted by. He stepped into the clearing on his own after a while, noting that he did not sink into the snow as she did, nor did he leave behind footprints or a shadow.
Made sense.
"Hey there Kit-Catt. How ya holding up?" In this dream, his voice whispered like falling snowflakes and echoed like the crack of glacial ice in the distance. She'd either hear him or she wouldn't. It was up to her, but he had a feeling that the feather-charm of his that hung around her neck in the waking world would probably make her more receptive to his voice than others.
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Catt Hatter  Tairais • 2 years ago
She turned to look at him.
"Oh, hello." The brown haired girl's tone was even, barely displaying any signs of surprise. The gentle breeze picked up to a steady wind, carrying grey clouds behind the moon. "What brings you to the forest so late?"
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