crescentview | the dreamer has nightmares

[ Adelis's first utterance draws Trahearne's gaze back; he studies him for a moment, head tilted. He isn't supposed to be here, and not in the sense that Orr is a dangerous place, especially for non-sylvari. He is out of place. Why? Who is he?

That's not the problem at hand, however. Orr will always, always be the bigger problem. ]

I suppose so. [ Trahearne agrees through gritted teeth before setting his sights on the grand staircase before them. Something in him is screaming, telling him to pull back. But he knows that only the murky abyss of uncertain waters waits for them behind. There is only one way to go.

So he pushes against his instincts and marches towards the structure. ]

Let's go. Stick close. I don't want you falling victim to the corruption.

[ There's deep care and concern for the stranger in his voice; perhaps it's a foolish thing to do. But it's who Trahearne is. He's going to get both of them out of this alive.

It's eerily quiet, and the plateau before them seems to stretch on for ages. Though Trahearne quickens his pace, he never feels like he's walking fast enough. Anxiety and dread fills the air. There's something here, though nothing moves around them. Trahearne's eyes dart all over the place; he never stops for long enough to take a good look around. He has a feeling that once he does, it's all over. ]

I don't like this.

[ There's a distinct lack of familiarity, he's noticed. The way the other looks at him, he sees nothing- like he's a stranger, and not somebody he's met and conversed with before. They are not close, certainly not....but they do know each other. That tells him enough.

He's walked through people's dreams before. Once, twice, thrice...it was out of necessity, and not wholly pleasant. This is no different, he finds, but perhaps it's his previous experiences that have him idly tugging at the pouches at his hips. This probably doesn't carry the same weight ( to die in the dream is to die for real, the loss of the soul and the self- ), but he still doesn't want to risk it.

He got cursed for failing once. He'd rather not have it happen again. ]

I'm hardier than I look.

[ That's all he offers, an unreadable look on his face in comparison to the other's genuine concern, but Adelis still follows behind regardless. Trahearne has a knowledge of things that he does not, and he knows better than to spur that.

That being said, it's quiet. Eeerily, deathly quiet in a way he's all too familiar with, and despite their pace, the place seems to stay looming over them. Shifting, perhaps, due to the unconscious will of the dreamer. Something pink sparks about his fingers as they twitch, gaze focused forward as his ears sharpen. All of his finely tuned senses feel like they're on high alert, but he merely keeps his stride, not turning his head. ]

Focus. [ His voice is quiet, but sharp. ] Lose your head and see if the rest of you doesn't follow.

[ Hardy or not, the hard fact of the matter is that this stranger--his new friend of circumstance--is infinitely more likely to become Risen than he is. And the least Trahearne can do is lend him a helping hand where he can.

His reminder, however, is a welcome one, and Trahearne doesn't seem upset by it at all. In a place like this, having another keep him on his toes and on track is a welcome blessing. He won't fight it. ]

Thank you.

[ His head snaps ahead again, gaze set on the building ahead. He feels like he should know where they are, but a strange, unfamiliar haze hangs over him. He is yet to realize that this is a dream.

Still, the sickly slick on his skin seems to grow stronger, and he can't seem to shake it. He feels a slight rumble at his feet, and he finds himself quickening his pace. The ruin feels so far away. ]

I hope we'll be able to find a higher vantage point when we reach the structure. [ Stay on task. Stay on task. ] Then we can get our bearings, and we can get you out of here.

[ He only lightly scoffs at the thank you- there's no errant sense of concern or duty that drives him, or whatever it is that keeps Trahearne at his side right now. This is merely survival- in a foreign place, you're far more likely to survive with someone who knows the lay of the land better than you. There is, occasionally, strength in numbers.

And at the very least, he's familiar.

Still, he doesn't comment as they continue on, heels lightly sinking into the brine-soaked dirt. It doesn't seem to be getting much closer, and that hardly bodes well...not that any of this has, so far.

This place is wrong, twisted, in such a sickeningly intimate way. There is something wrong beneath their feet, in the air, on their skin, and he knows it all too well. ]

If we are lucky enough. [ Ever the optimist. Even so, his gaze flickers at that last bit, even as he strains his ears for the slightest twitch of something out of the ordinary. ] And you sound as if you plan on staying, for all your apprehension.

[ While Adelis may not belong here, he doubts the other has a true desire to stay rooted where he is. Then again, dreams do strange things to people. ]

[ The trembling at their feet grows, as does Trahearne's anxiety. His constant reminders to himself to stay on task are beginning to lose their meaning. Yet his eyes never leave the structure before them, and in the haze of his dream he begins to piece things together. ]

Because destiny dictates that I cleanse this land. I must know every grain of sand, every crevice in its geography so that I know where to even begin.

[ It's the truth. The explanation sounds practiced, because how many times has he needed to explain himself to every passing Lionguard and merchant why he ever dares venture into this cursed land?

He doesn't give time for Adelis to respond, though. He nods to the structure before them. It looms in its indeterminate distance. ]

I fear we are in the deepest heart of Orr. We...need to hurry, and get out of here. Because of that's Arah, then--

[ The ground shakes, and Trahearne stumbles in his steps, but never breaks his stride. A dark shadow casts over them, stealing what little sunlight had been filtering through the sickened clouds. ]

--that, is Zhaitan.

[ And he dare not look up. ]

[ He...does not like the movement beneath their feet. That usually means there's something big around, either under the surface or close enough, and that never bodes well, in Adelis' personal experience.

The explanation is....hm. Somewhat familiar? He's sure he said something similar, but not in detail. Cleansing such a tainted, accursed place seems fairly far-fetched to him- Ostoya is, after all, cursed down to the roots, and it hasn't be fixed in centuries...nor will it likely ever be.

But he won't comment on the perceived futility, not that he was given much time to. This is clearly not the first time he's had to explain himself, and were this not a dream, it also wouldn't be the last. But they apparently have bigger problems, if the rumble at their feet is any indication. ]

What-

[ He catches himself fairly easily at the rattle of the earth, but it's the shadow overhead that nearly makes him freeze. It's large, imposing, and it's like the scent of death and rot grows ever stronger. He has seen monsters of many shapes and sizes, but never the size of whatever is overhead, overcasting half the plateau. ]

What. The fuck is that.

[ Part of him feels he knows the answer, from hearing both his and Syrlya's talks of their home, but he really doesn't have the desire to be right. ]

An Elder Dragon.

[ Trahearne has already seen Zhaitan once, and that was enough. He is not particularly enthused about seeing it again.

Without much warning or hesitation, he grabs Adelis's very cold wrist and makes an abrupt turn, cutting across the plateau to the cliff edge. The questions he had before about the other's unnatural lack of body heat quickly slip away with Zhaitan looming over them. There's no time. They need to get out of here.

He breaks into a sprint, dragging Adelis behind him. He'd much rather the murky seas of Orr than instant death. Or to watch Adelis turn before his eyes. He feels the corruption prick his skin, and he knows this does not bode well for either of them.

Zhaitan flies low, the many heads protruding from its mouth searching for them in the ground below. They have no cover. The dragon hovers in the space between here and Arah, leaving them no hope of reaching the ruined city. Their only option is down.

Hopefully, they can reach the cliff in time. ]

[ Oh! Wonderful. That's a familiar term, and one he can't say he finds to be particularly thrilling. He's seen many things in the dreams he's walked, from warped monstrosities to the flickering forms of spiders bigger than a man ( courtesy of someone ), but this is one he's not any happier to have to contend with.

Just as he's not any happier when a waxy hand wraps around his wrist, promptly yanking him in the opposite direction, right towards the dangerous edge they had just walked from. Right towards the ominous, murky water, so similar to Ostoya's it makes his stomach churn. If the rest of this place is anything to go by, whatever lurks beneath is sure to be just as bad-

But one quick glance back and whatever minor fear he has of the lapping water seems to shove itself down in turn. That's a lot of heads, a lot of teeth, an overpowering scent of rot and blood and pestilence.

At the very least, he knows how to swim.

And Trahearne is fast, but not fast enough, and it's Adelis who overtakes him with ease and twists his arm to yank him along instead, cliff edge getting ever closer. He normally wouldn't, would sooner dart off just to save himself, but he would not risk the chance of whatever happens if the dreamer is the one to die-

It may be worse, after all, then the snapping maw of that thing. ]

[ That Adelis is faster and takes the lead to pull him along has Trahearne thankful for a brief moment. The slightest bit of speed is a welcome burst of inspiration, though he knows they will never outrun the dragon. That if they're caught, that would mean the end of both of them--a definitive one for Trahearne, as the corruption will take his life instantly. But Adelis would live on, only as its servant. All of his will lost.

That may be a harsher fate than instant death.

There is no hesitation on Trahearne's part in face of the Orrian seas below. Adelis may stop, but Trahearne sees no reason to. The smell grows ever stronger, the anxiety claws at him from the pit of his gut. They need to get out.

By virtue of their linked hands, Trahearne may end up dragging Adelis with him as he leaps from the cliff. He feels the torrent of putrid wind rush over them as Zhaitan flies overhead, its multitude of mouth-heads futilely snapping at them. The pull of gravity is greater, however, and he plummets straight down the cliffside.

And the second he hits the cold, dark water, he shoots upright in bed. It has been a long, long time since he's dreamt of Orr. ]

Edited 2023-01-26 13:03 (UTC)

[ He has been trained not to hesitate, not to falter in the face of things that could kill you- Ostoya is full of them, around every corner and in every face. Whatever is above them is likely a far worse fate than whatever is down there, and he knows that deep in the marrow of his bones.

Still, the glimpse of the glistening, murky water is enough to almost make him halt for a split second- just one. But he doesn't really have time, because the hand clapsed in his yanks him forward and off the edge before he has time to correct himself. He is no stranger to falling, at least, wind in his ears and tension in his limbs-

He wakes up in a cold sweat. Luckily, however, he is used to the nightmares- he doesn't make a sound.

It sticks with him, for a while- it's difficult to forget things like that, but it eventually fades into all the others. In fact, he nearly forgets about it, until a few days later, when he's heading from being out on the town.

It's Trahearne's face that brings the image back, as they cross paths for the first time in a short while. It takes a brief moment for it to click again, but he's the first to speak, presumably. ]

...You don't make a habit out of of sharing your nightly dreams, do you. [ It's not very accusatory, just matter of fact. ] I'd rather not experience it for the 5th time.

[ When Trahearne spots Adelis, his expression lightens just slightly with recognition. He's a big haggard, tired looking--hard for a non-sylvari not familiar with the children of the Pale Tree to spot, perhaps. Maybe Adelis is an exception. But he's spent quite a few nights this week with interrupted sleeps or no sleep at all.

And so he's without his typical cordial greeting at first as his mind rolls back through his nightmares specifically to the one he shared with Adelis. He offers an apologetic dip of the head and an awkward smile as he comes to a halt. ]

That was you, wasn't it? In my dream of Orr. You have my apologies--I hope it did not cause you any distress.

[ Perhaps other people might not, but after hanging around Syrlya for so long, he’s become somewhat accustomed to it. He, however, opts not to comment on the very obviously haggard state of Trahearne’s being- even if he has an inkling as to why that is.

Adelis simply peers at the apologetic dip of the other man’s head without a shift of expression, before he simply lets out an exasperated noise. ]

I doubt you had any intention of sharing that, so I suppose the fault lies with a very obvious third party. [ Not naming names, since the Goddess doesn’t even have a name. ] But my ‘distress’ was hardly anything out of the ordinary. The dragon, I could have done without.

[ A small shake of the head. ]

The rest, however, was hardly much different from my home. A bit of poisoned earth and rotting flesh is nothing new.

[ The goddess. Despite how favorable Trahearne thinks of her, he's going to be in for a real surprise when she starts meddling in absolutely everything he does this month.

He thinks everyone could have done without Zhaitan. ]

First no sun, and now native to a land like Orr? [ His brow furrows in concern, and his tired eyes focus on Adelis for a second. ] I had the luxury of having the choice to leave when need be, but to call such a place your home...

[ He shifts, bowing a bit in Adelis's direction. Though that's more from the lack of sleep than any other deeper meaning. ]

Pale Mother, that sounds awful. I'm so sorry.

[ Whilst wholly used to various flavors of horrendous, rotted abominations, that is one he would be perfectly fine with not encountering again, especially in any official capacity.

Adelis' brows raise at that, both the question and the apology, and he resists the urge to scoff outright. How many people have apologized already, over just stating a fact? He's fully aware he comes from a hellhole, thank you. ]

...It's not as if I'm there now. [ He's not as tired as Trahearne, but still tired enough. ] And whilst I hardly enjoyed my life, most of what people here consider unfortunate or horrifying are simply our staples. I hardly see the need for apologies when they'll do very little.

[ Also- ]

And stand up straight, for hells sake. You look ready to keel over at the slightest wind. When was the last time you'd actually slept for more than a few hours?

[ Adelis defends himself--rightfully--and Trahearne frowns. Ah, that's right. It's like if someone apologized to him for being sylvari. Did it matter? He didn't know any other way of life.

Adelis keeps talking, but Trahearne's mind keeps going. He reaches out to place a hand on his shoulder. Partially out of sympathy. Partially to keep himself upright. ]

Then you have my sympathies. I am glad for both of us that we are here now, and not among the putrid sands and rotting structures of a forsaken land. I hope you are making the most of it. [ And not getting sunburnt in the process.

...Ah, right. He asked a question, didn't he? Trahearne studies him for a moment before answering-- ]

...I have slept.

[ But not saying how much. Or when. Or really answering the question at all. ]

Edited 2023-01-28 11:18 (UTC)

[ Of all the things to happen, he certainly isn't expecting Trahearne to clap a hand on his shoulder mid-fucking sentence. It doesn't cut him off, but it does startle him somewhat, brows furrowing in bewilderment at...multiple factors here, really. ]

...It would be a waste not to.

[ Obviously. He has his grouses, gripes, and obviously blindness and sunburn related woes, but this place will always be better than the everlooming threat of dismemberment or becoming a rich parasite's plaything. That being said, it seems like a waste to keep this conversation going when there is a glaring problem. ]

Yes, I'm sure. For all of five minutes. [ The blandness of his tone displays how unimpressed he is with the non-answer well-enough. ] And perhaps I would be able to take you seriously were you not leaning all your weight on me right now.

[ ...Seriously, there's a ridiculous height difference between them, even with these heels on. It's kind of easy to tell. ]

--Right.

[ Of course. By using Adelis as support, Trahearne has inadvertently given himself an excuse to keep his "guard" down and has likely put a little more of his weight on the other than he intends. He drops his hand, rights himself, and shakes his head, as though willing his drowsiness away from him. ]

My apologies. I would like to continue this conversation, but this doesn't seem to be the right place to do so. [ He lazily jerks his head towards town. ] I was just on my way to have a coffee. You're welcome to join me, if you've nothing else to do.

[ This tree...is going through it. Not that Adelis pities him, by any means- he doesn't seem like the type of man who needs any to begin with, and that's not something he hands out generously anyway. His features don't get any more impressed even as Trahearne rights himself, attempting to wake himself up with minimal success. ]

Perhaps not, for your own sake.

[ Passing out in the middle of the road would be pretty High Cringe.

That being said, the offer does make him quirk a brow, if only because...that's a first? He's been here a month and a half, and yet he's never really gone anywhere that isn't the library or the bar. It's a luxury he's not used to, but he won't lie and say maybe, just maybe, the idea is a bit tempting. ]

...I suppose there's no harm in it. [ Maybe, a little treat...just a little one. He flickers his gaze towards town. ] Although I believe you'd benefit far more than I.

Then I'll pay. It's the least I can do to make it worth your while.

[ Maybe he just wants company, and what better company than an acquaintance who apparently hails from a land like Orr? It sucks, yes, but at least they'll find something in common by complaining about it.

And Trahearne think that maybe, by talking about it, he'll find some peace of mind and good night's rest at the end of the day.

Without so much as another word, he turns on his heel to continue the path on which he was headed when they ran into each other, coming to the little place in town where they will obtain their coffee. It doesn't take long for them to get seats, and Trahearne orders himself one black coffee. And whatever Adelis wants, he'll order that too.

It'll be a moment before their drinks come, though. Trahearne tilts his head, eyeing Adeils curiously. ]

The goddess promises that we are able to return to our homes upon marriage--many seem eager to do so, having been whisked away in the midst of important business. [ It's probably obvious where this is going. Even though Ostoya is not Orr, he thinks they may as well be the same in his mind. ] Would you want to go home?

[ Hmmm. Well, if he's offering...Adelis eyeballs the taller man for a few more seconds before finally nodding. Better company than some, he supposes, and if he doesn't have to spend anything, all the better.

Even with the barter system in place, he'll probably never stop being the miserly sort.

He follows after just as quietly, brushing his hair back in the onslaught of the afternoon sun, and only gives the building the barest of suspicious glances. It's...cozy? For lack of a better word. He's used to the only establishments doing this being beat-up old taverns, with creaks in their floorboards and chips in their bars.

He, however, takes the same- he's a frugal sort, but he's not going to up and load up on someone else's coin, either. He does have standards.

It is rather obvious where he is going, from the first few words alone- enough he's already anticipating the question before it comes. Adelis idly crosses his legs, leaning his elbow on the table as he peers across at Trahearne. ]

I would not. [ Blunt, as expected. ] I spent the past nine years scraping till my fingers bled just to finally earn my way out, and if I'm to receive that, with no effort on my part? I'll take it, regardless of the glaring issues.

[ Like the kidnapping, and the Goddess' general...everything. ]

While I detest dancing to another's tune, the pros far outweigh the cons- that much I am willing to admit.

[ Due to the simplicity of their orders--two black coffees--it doesn't take much time for their drinks to arrive. As they are set down before them, Trahearne almost immediately reaches for his, bringing the warm cup to his lips. It's nice, and perhaps it's the placebo speaking, but he can feel himself waking up already. As he blows the hot liquid, he peers up to watch Adelis as he speaks.

He nods in understanding, taking a slow sip as he ruminates on his words. Perhaps a bit slower than normal. ]

I thought as much. I would find myself hard pressed to gather the motivation to find a partner knowing my final destination would be a place like Orr.

[ He...isn't sure what the case would be for himself. It's something that needs addressing with the goddess, and...well. Another certain individual.

He places his coffee cup back onto its saucer, piercing amber eyes resting on Adelis's. ]

Would you still marry?

[ In contrast, Adelis doesn't quite automatically reach to down his- he merely wraps his hands around the cup, the warmth doing little to stave off the cold of his skin. It always feels strange, temperature so low despite how hot it is outside, but it's something he's as at least gotten accustomed to.

...It smells good, however. A bit better than the stuff Ryuki makes at home, but he's not particularly an expert on different kinds of coffee yet.

A pale finger taps against the cup, the question not earning anything more than a dismissive snort. Trahearne certainly wouldn't be the first person to ask, but he's getting the same answer. ]

No. [ Fairly resolute in that answer. ] I never had intention to wed back home, and my opinion hasn't changed. I see no point in it.

[ He does not have...the strongest opinion on marriage itself, evidenced by the way his gaze shifts as he takes a small sip of his own drink. Hasn't worked out for anybody he's known.

That, and imagine having feelings? Lol. ]

There are other people better suited for such things. I am not one of them.

[ At first, Trahearne is content to accept what Adelis says at face value. He gives a nod of understanding--he was much the same. Sylvari don't really do weddings, not in the way of humans, and likely not in the way the goddess intends. A promise to stay together can easily be broken by one reason or another--Caithe and Faolain immediately come to mind. But more importantly, his Wyld Hunt, his position as marshal left him much too busy and too concerned with the weight of the world to think about romance, much less staying with someone for good.

Despite how much he would've liked to have the time to think about these things.

But when the other declares how he is not suited for marriage, he pauses. A multitude of reasons cross his mind, but they don't quite add up to him. Adelis may be prickly, but he certainly isn't bad looking. He has seen worse people in relationships, both looks- and personality-wise.

He leans back in his seat, head tilting curiously. ]

What makes you say that?

[ Not to say Ostoya does not have it's fair share of marriages- some people are lucky, finding someone in their limited youth who makes them happy. Others are content for convenience, for their arranged marriages or otherwise. From his personal experiences, however, neither the former nor the latter hold any appeal. Neither have any guarantee of working out, after all.

The question, naturally, earns an eyebrow- he figures that should be obvious, but then again, Trahearne doesn't know exactly who he is. Doesn't know what he does for a living, the jobs he's taken for a few errant coins here and there. Naturally, it wouldn't seem so bad to someone not in the know.

Adelis peers over the soft wafts of steam emanating from his cup, expression unchanging. ]

People in my line of work don't oft live long. [ He has intentions of living past that, of course, but it is a fact of life. The beginning of a hawkmoth tattooed on the back of his hand says enough. ] And the average lifespan of an Ostoyan is around the age of 30. Love and romance are not at the forefront of our minds, when scraping for our survival is far more important.

[ He speaks this with a clinical coldness, like it's nothing more than the weekly weather. ]

And I am not the type of person most would wish to tie themselves to permanently, regardless. Of that, I am fully aware.

[ For long moments, Trahearne stares at him, amber eyes prying at the seams of his layers, trying to get a peek into the depths of who Adelis is.

He understands. He really does. The choice to set the option of marriage aside is a pragmatic one, but things are a bit different now. And it was only a handful of years ago that Trahearne was of the same mind, deciding that he was simply undesirable. That it would be unwise for him to tie himself to another. Yet now, more than ever, he finds himself hoping. ]

But the circumstances of our home hardly matter here, do they not? With love and romance at the forefront of every activity and interaction, and survival essentially guaranteed in such peace, would you still discount such partnership?

And besides, [ He reaches for his coffee again, giving it a little sniff before he takes a sip. ] I wouldn't say that. I'd like to think there's someone out there who thinks of you as a suitable match.

[ he is tired and Saying Shit ]

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