JERICHO ● SEPTEMBER 2025 EVENT/TDM

[uruz]

TDM & EVENT: JERICHO

ᛗ

Prologue: New Characters

You've been plagued with a reoccuring dream, as of late. Every time you sleep, the dream returns to you.

It always begins the same way: As a breath held for too long. As a pressure at the base of your spine. A silence that presses against the skin like confession, like prophecy. A ripple moves through your bones. A tide builds and pulls at your feet, familiar by now. You dream of a black, soundless wave, thick like oil and starlight, swelling across the horizon line. You've seen the wave before, countless times, always rising. With every night, it never reaches you. You always seem to wake before it does . . . That is, until tonight.

The wave moves slow, deliberate— like something ancient and alive. And when it finally crashes, there is no harsh impact. Only warmth. Only submersion. Rather than drowning, you are being claimed with saltwater that's sweet with myrrh. The darkness embracing you pulses with desire. Then, a voice envelops you.

"Come home."
It dribbles with honey-like promise, like a truth you've always known, whispered now from within your marrow more like temptation than a request.

"You are mine. You always were."
The voice offers purpose. Worship. Belonging. And when you wake . . . You wake changed, with a mask on your face you did not choose. Elegant. Sacred. Too important to remove. You have been given a gift. A new beginning.

Welcome home, new Vessels.

Watch on YouTube

ᛗ

Sink Down Like Precious Stones

( content warnings: drowning, body horror )

Vessels awaken within the dreamscape as the black wave recedes from their skin like velvet falling off the bone, their masks in place over their eyes and left afloat in the watery expanse. All around them, the ocean stretches infinite and lightless— so still it mirrors the sky above, indistinguishable from the void. Far in the distance, massive obsidian walls curve inward, enclosing this vast seascape like a forgotten temple basin. And there, at the far horizon, one glow pierces the dark: a low-burning fire flickering within a half-sunken structure of impossible architecture— arched, ribbed, as though built from marble and cathedral glass.

This is a test, and it begins with belief.

Those with unwavering faith— whether in Sleep, another god, or even themselves— will find the surface beneath their feet holds firm. The sea becomes glass, and they may rise, and walk. But those adrift in doubt begin to sink. Precious stone creeps over their skin. Joints stiffen. Flesh cracks. Breath slows. It is not death, but it is close and might as well be hell. Your only salvation lies in your own conviction . . . Or the mercy of another Vessel who happens to walk.

Those who drown will not die. They will loop this moment— sinking, blackness, return, sink again— until belief takes root in some way. Alternatively, they may awaken in a later dreamspace . . . Changed.

NOTES:

• Pale white fish as well as glowing jellyfish may be encounted. The fish stare at vessels as they drown, and jellyfish may leave behind a shock that could temporarily stop the process of crystalization. But only temporarily— and their stings are excrutiating.

TOKEN EFFECTS:

• Magic becomes volatile— spells flicker, overcharge, or fizzle unpredictably when cast on or near the ocean.
• When you cast, your veins glow from beneath the skin, but not with light. It's writhing. Like something trapped under glass.
• When channeling magic, your mouth may fill with brine and blood.

OFFERING EFFECTS:

• The water responds emotionally— thrashing with fury or calming with yearning depending on the Offering's state of mind.
• The sea amplifies desire and instinct, making base emotions harder to suppress— rage, hunger, longing all churn just beneath the surface.
• The black water feels too warm, too alive, clinging to the body like memory; any stillness invites visions of Sleep's embrace, both reverent and consuming.

ᛗ

You Taste Like New Flesh

( content warnings: body horror, psychological horror, compulsion, unreliable reality )

The ocean path ends at a palace carved of pearl and spun silk, impossibly perched where water meets nothingness. Whether you have traversed the black sea on trembling feet or simply awaken seated at an impossibly long table, it makes no difference. You are here now, and welcomed, suddenly in attire fit for a gala. Around this table sit countless Dream-Vessels, many silent and still, faces unreadable in the flickering candlelight wearing generic, six-eyed masks. The table stretches beyond sight, arching beneath creeping vines that twist like ancient veins overhead, blooming with strange blossoms that beat with energy. Flames dance atop dozens of candles— some burn on brass holders, others hover, like fireflies caught mid-flight, their shadows flickering and shifting with an otherworldly rhythm. Around you, phantasmal forms shimmer on pedestals: Sleep's ancient Guardians are eternalized through memorial, monstrous and magnificent, lost to time yet enshrined in reverence. On the highest pedestal stands a still living One, silent and watching the feast with somber eyes. Sleep's voice whispers in your ear, encouraging a glance to, perhaps, see what you may become.

"Feast, My Dear Vessels. Until you taste like New Flesh."

The foods before you don not come unmeddled with. Each bite pulls memories from your bones to the surface— moments buried or erased, but these are not just yours. The banquet feeds on shared history, stirring secrets tangled between you and the others here. To eat is to open a door: to risk awakening something dormant, to invite others inside your buried truths, to forge bonds or betrayals that can never be unseen.

Eton Mess: Crushed meringue, tangled cream, and berries that bleed like bruises when bitten. Sweetness melts quickly, leaving your tongue cold. As you eat, a memory rises— but you don't experience it alone. The person nearest you sees what you see, hears what you hear, feels what you felt. Together, you can alter one key detail, and that change ripples outward, shifting how you both remember the event.

Deviled Kidneys: Spiced and seared, the metallic richness clings to your mouth, as if tasting old blood. Eating summons the echo of a painful or violent memory, but your partner experiences it with you.

Roasted Lamb in Mint Sauce: The sweetness of the meat is cut by mint sharp enough to sting the throat. Your act of consumption awakens a craving, but not in you— in the Vessel sharing this dish. They feel an inexorable pull toward your memory, even without knowing what they seek. The bond persists until the craving is confronted.

Honey Scouse: A thick, golden stew heavy with warmth, but beneath the sweetness, something cloying curls around the edges. Every shared spoonful spreads a slow, creeping influence between you and your partner: intrusive visions, subtle compulsions, small lapses in agency. Neither of you can tell whose thoughts belong to whom.

Starpit Fruit: Plum-sized and faintly glowing, the juice leaves your fingertips dusted in silver, like handling starlight. When bitten, the fruit releases the memory of a forgotten wish, not to you but to the person beside you. They see it clearly— and know exactly what you once wanted most, even if you had buried it.

Marigold Brandy: A golden spirit served warm, glowing faintly as though sunlight has been trapped inside the glass. When lifted, it releases a soft, floral scent. The first sip draws you and your partner into a shared burst of joy— a memory that makes you swell with happiness. The sensation is so immediate, so electric, that when the memory breaks, your bodies ache to move, to speak, to draw more positivity to light. You may feel an irresistible pull to get up and dance on the wide palace floors, even if no music is playing . . . And if others nearby drink as well, the effect multiplies.

Saints Breath Chalice: A dark, wine-thick cordial served in tarnished silver cups etched with symbols that shift when stared at too long. The liquid smells faintly of frankincense and something sweeter— blood-warm and alive. Drinking it floods you and your partner with the overwhelming sensation of being inside someone else's celebration, a memory that belongs to neither of you: a vast mass of black, with branching antlers and six, glowing red eyes. It reaches to sink its claws into your chest as she sings: One. Beloved. We were meant to be. It is impossible to tell whether you're witnessing joy or manic worship. There is chanting you cannot understand but somehow already know, drums that sync with your heartbeat until you can feel nothing else. Your limbs begin to twitch, then sway, then move without conscious thought, drawn into a dance you do not remember learning. If more than two people drink, your movements synchronize perfectly, your breath matching theirs, until the room seems stop to watch.

The table awaits.

NOTES:

• Feasting becomes addictive. The more a character eats, the harder it is to stop. Gluttony may cause physical consequences: nosebleeds, twitching fingers, warping speech, uncontrollable confessions, or dripping nectar from their mouths.
• Those who refuse to eat at all begin to starve in a dream-sense: they lose color, smell burning, and feel the weight of Sleep's gaze. Her wrath isn't immediate— but it grows the longer you reject the feast. She takes offense.

TOKEN EFFECTS:

• Each spell cast after eating releases parasitic energy— manifesting as flowers, thorns, parasitic insects or rot— either from their own body or from someone they recently touched.
• Casting warps your limbs temporarily: too many joints, fingers curl the wrong way, nerves burn like wires.
• Touching others leaves sigils burned into their skin. These will briefly carry over into the waking world during next month's event. Runecasters will get the innate feeling that this symbol has a meaning summed up as "The Night Does Not Belong To God". How they interpret that is up to them.

OFFERING EFFECTS:

• The act of devouring awakens an overwhelming desire, often physical, but sometimes emotional or spiritual. This desire clings to another Vessel at the table, creating obsessive attachment or aggression.
• The more they eat, the more their monstrous traits subtly emerge.
• Consuming another Vessel's memory (if shared or touched) grants a brief glimpse of their deepest fear or weakness.

ᛗ

There's Something In The Way You Lay

( content warnings: sexual content, voyeurism, body modification, omegaverse traits, loss of agency )

Beneath its pearlescent halls, beyond the banquet of flickering candles and dream-Vessels who eat in hollow silence, a spiral staircase winds downward. Its steps are damp and velvet-slick. The further you descend, the warmer the air becomes— humid, cloying, thick with the scent of sweat, salt, and incense. The sounds reach you first: Slaps, gasps, the wet chorus of bodies and perverse intimacy. Laughter, muffled sobs, the echo of whispered names long forgotten. At the base lies a corridor of "private" rooms. Their doors swing open with dreamlike invitation. Inside, the scenes unfold: past dream-Vessels lost in tableau— arched backs, bitten lips, mouths open in prayer or obedience. Some are alone, coiled in worship. Others tangle in groups, indistinguishable where one body ends and another begins. Vines bloom across the ceilings, watching. The walls glisten with breath. You see their faces, but you can't quite distinguish what or who they are. You may not remember choosing a role, but the dream has chosen for you. α or Ω— and with the naming, your body changes. There is no shame here, only devotion made manifest. This is how Sleep is worshipped now: through cruelty and surrender, through the giving and the taking of flesh.

NOTES

• Masks may optionally offer a sort of glamour for Vessels who wander into these chambers— they will not be able to recognize each other. How much of that, whether it be appearance, voice, and so on, is up to you.
• Past dream-Vessels perform for no one, eyes vacant, movements perfect, as if only a ghost of a memory. Player characters may interact with them and even partake in intimacy with them, but be warned: they are emotionally absent and may cause symptoms of succumbence that could be remedied with a proper, player-character tether.
• Tools hang on the walls: Rods of all sizes, slick with heat. Collars that hum with low, seductive voltage. Blindfolds that intensify physical contact, There's no need for cuffs or chains when there are vines that seem to respond to the α party's mood— tightening, flowering, or reaching for skin. You are free to come up with your own items.
• α perks:: Instinctive claiming (done through biting, rubbing, branding, etc), an almost predatory focus and obsession for those who interest them, pack gravity (the ability to attract one or more vessels at once), emitting a scent that ignites heat/rut in others, darker urges surge and a commanding voice.
Ω perks: High pain tolerance, instinctive yielding, emotional synchrony with those being watched, self-lubricating, hypersensitive, scent tracking, intense need to please or be filled emotionally, physically, and spiritually. When touched, glowing runes bloom across the skin.

TOKEN EFFECTS

• Spells cast during acts of intimacy may provoke a heightened sensation of euphoria for both caster and whoever is affected by the spell.
• Magic may manifest as misty appendages— extra hands, tongues, eyes, etc.
• Divine energy becomes volatile when passed through the body— ecstasy may border on agony, or vice versa, and Tethering becomes impossibly euphoric.

OFFERING EFFECTS

• Flesh becomes malleable mid-act— bones bending, jaws unhinging, skin blooming open, etc.
• Animalistic traits emerge: tails, claws, growls, tentacles, scent glands— all begging to be used.
• Feeding and Tethering are indistinguishable— hunger becomes worship, and worship becomes need.

ᛗ

I am not worthy

( content warnings: body horror, violence, gore, parasitic/invasive feeding, death )

Wherever you are, the palace begins to rot. First slowly, then all at once: vines swell with black fluid, splitting at the seams. They burst from beneath marble tiles, coil up pillars, slither across frames and vacant thrones like arteries choking a heart. The candlelight flickers. One by one, the flames throughout the palace float upward . . . And die. No smoke. No warning. Just wet silence. Then the Dream-Vessels begin to fall. They do not scream as they do. They collapse like marionettes, limbs askew. Their flesh splits open along wounds that should not exist— a rip at the neck, teeth marks prying open the ribcage, a bite that swallows half a torso. Bones jut like sculpted ivory. Entrails slither across the floor like garlands. Some burst mid-air, as if the dream demands spectacle. Others fold in on themselves until all that's left of them is a mound of flesh.

"I am not worthy."

One voice. Ten. A thousand—layered, glitching, sweaty. It echoes from the walls, the bodies, the seams in the floor. The corpses twitch in time with the chant, jerking violently. Some snap backwards, eyes wide, jaws unhinged. Others explode— blossoming in gore, raining viscera. From the heaving pile of ruined Dream-Vessels, something forms.

It lurches into being: stitched from tongues, teeth, torsos. Weeping. Wailing. Worshipping. A monstrosity of raw flesh and faith: all failures made meat. Its eyes (are they eyes?) blink out. Arms claw outwards, too many to count. Its scent is of copper, sweat, and sorrow.

When The Abomination chooses to feed, it seeks not flesh, but the softest rot inside you. An appendage uncoils from its writhing mass and unhinged jaw— veined, slick, and trembling like a violated root. It drives itself into your mouth, splitting your lips with obscene tenderness, and sinks deep into your throat, locking you still.

What it draws out is not blood. It siphons your doubts, your fears, your most secret self-hatred. Your inadequacy. Every buried shame. Your hate. Your negativity. Every flinch of unworthiness. Every moment you believed yourself unlovable, unseen, too small. It gorges on what you hide from even yourself, and the more you try to resist, the sweeter your sorrow becomes. The last thing it takes is your life force, and then your viscera, leaving you wilted and shrivled like a hollow log.

This death is violating and feels painfully slow. You're drained raw of your vitality until you're but a brittle husk that breaks to dust in the wind. It seems near impossible to destroy, always reforming into bits and pieces left smudged behind. Perhaps your best bet it to run, or attempt to wake yourself up from this nightmare.

One's voice repeats in choked sobs: I am not worthy.

NOTES:

• Wounds from the beast linger. You may wake bleeding or marked.
• If devoured, characters will awaken the following month extremely fatigued during the first 3-5 days of the month. They may also sporadically rigurgitate black sludge. Characters who die and are already in the game may requesta plot clue, that will be a vision your character will dream of before awakening.

TOKEN EFFECTS

• Magic recoils violently when used on The Abomination, backfiring with psychic screams or ripping into your flesh.
• Your hands glow uncontrollably, burning what you touch— even those you love.
• Magic becomes hungry; it demands pieces of your body to function. A tooth. A nail. A rib (and so on).

OFFERING EFFECTS

• The rage it stirs in you is monstrous. You begin to shift uncontrollably— flesh blooms, bones crack under strain.
• Your body begins moving before you decide to. Twitching toward The Abomination, and toward the scent of despair.
• During the chaos, you may develop a fixation with another Vessel's flaw. You can smell it on them. It entrances you . . . To the point that you may feel the urge to feed them to The Abomination.

ᛗ

OOC NOTES

➤ Welcome to Somnia's second TDM, which doubles as our third gamewide event!

➤ This TDM is considered game canon. You are free to have your character remember as many details as possible.

➤ Only new characters are free to experiment with the Vessel options to your liking; this is a dreamscape, so multiple/different situations for you to really test which option you like most is possible. Current characters must remain as their chosen Vessel type unless you requested a switch, which can be done on the Taken page.

➤ All TDMs take place within a dreamscape, meaning characters can interact with the setting without needing to apply. Come have fun with us!

➤ Veteran players, I ask to please refrain from making post-event threads for the time being! We have some important information to take into account in next month's event when characters are slated to "wake up". At the very least, please wait for the information to be offered on the next plotting post. Thank you everyone for your patience!

➤ Please comment on the TDM's INVITE TL if you are a new player interested in joining the game, but don't yet have an invite. Current players or the mod may reach out to extend an invite. Once you've got one, please don't forget to comment on the Invite page so you may properly link it in your reserve and app.

➤ Questions? Please direct them to the designated questions comment linked below!

network ᛗ logs ᛗ ooc ᛗ memes ᛗ navigation

code

Comments

[trashblaze]

Hey, thanks!!

[ Don't mind if he does! Caelus accepts it without hesitation and chugs the whole damn cup. Look at those dumb shounen protagonist manners. Once it's emptied, he sets it aside and then lets out a perfectly boyish smile. This guy really needs to reconsider some things more, but hey, all for the spirit of trailblazing, eh? ]

Whoa, that reminds me of Penacony…

[ The planet of Penacony has a lot of golden-colored drinks, among many others. Caelus already misses Penacony so, so much. But he's been stuck in Amphoreus for a while now. And this new situation he's in… doesn't help either. The natural effect is to feel melancholy after these feelings, but this place is far from natural. Instead, he's oddly feeling… uh, happy. Happier than he usually is. And it's getting worse.

Maybe he's drunk already? If only it were that simple. ]

[eidxiety]

[Ain watches the young man for a bad reaction — some people have been wailing in pain or experiencing some kind of shared hallucination, as far as he can tell by the way they all breathe in sync — but doesn't immediately spot one. Curious. He wonders if the liquor is okay to drink, then... there's so much of it just in arm's reach, and his brain is desperately clawing at the inside of his skull begging for some sort of sustenance.

He's worried, but picks up another glass, then hesitates long enough to ask:]

"Penacony"? Is that where you're from?

[Doubt clouds his mind again. He... has never had alcohol. Not once. If he gets drunk, won't he make a fool of himself in front of everyone...?]

[trashblaze]

[ So far, so good! Nothing seems off about Caelus. He's just smiling. And starting to laugh. He just looks drunk, but seriously, he's not. Oh, he's laughing again. Yeah, nevermind, there's something funny about that drink. Not that Caelus doubted it!! He willingly drank it while still knowing that, but he's really trying to listen to his gut. It feels like a worse decision to not take anything from the tables, especially as their… strange hosts continue staring down from above.

Little did Caelus know, he'll see something interesting soon. His dear company's happy memory. ]

Nah, I'm not a Penacony local. [ Pause… ] Ah, actually, maybe I am and I just don't know? But I have a strong feeling that I'm not! I didn't feel anything peculiar when I went, and no one seemed to recognize me.

[ Though he didn't outright say it, the words are pretty much hinting that he has a form of amnesia. Still, he's not going to talk about that stuff right now, especially as the effects of the Marigold Brandy is beginning to kick in completely. ]

[eidxiety]

Oh, [Ain says, and absentmindedly sips his drink as he tries to piece together what to say here. Do you say "sorry" to people with amnesia? Even if it's not his fault...? Humans tended to do that, so he should probably try his best to express condolences. Therefore, just after taking a second drink, Ain manages the most awkward attempt at sympathy in his life.] S...sorry you don't know.

[He realises a second too late that he's taken that sip he didn't want to take — two sips, in fact! terrible! — but before he can fully regret his actions, the effects hit, a shared memory flashing between the two of them.

A solemn prayer falls from Ain's lips — or it would have, had he a mouth at the time. Reduced to a mere ball of light, he begs the Goddess to give him form again, turning his Goddess-given mission from "saving the world" to "protecting the humans who first saved it". In a blinding spark of light, he's standing in the middle of an empty street surrounded by those very humans he swore to protect, all thirteen of them overjoyed to see him again despite not quite being aware of where he went in the first place.

"I'm glad to see everyone together again," Ain says softly, his arms crossed over his chest as a man with a robotic, clawed arm strolls up and places his flesh-and-blood hand upon Ain's shoulder.

"What are you talking about? You've always been with us, Ain."

He manages an awkward, self-conscious laugh even as a smile creeps onto his features and his heart swells. Being with them is all he'd ever wanted, and having nearly been torn from them once was enough for him, thanks. "I know," he lies, because for a while he wasn't, and he didn't know he'd ever come back to them, "but it feels like it's been a long time."]

[trashblaze]

What?

[ The apology is unexpected, so Caelus was caught offguard by it. But he's quick to smile regardless, even laughing just a little in a friendly manner. He's trying to lighten up the mood, in case the young man felt guilty or something. ]

Oh, don't worry about it! I don't mind at all.

[ And then, the heartwarming memory hits the two of them. Caelus witnesses the sweet moment as if he were there. He didn't know any of the people in the scene, but because of the strong emotions present, he's able to feel as if he did. It really is too sweet. It reminds him of his own family, the Astral Express crew. ]

Haha, if anything, it looks like I should be the one apologizing. I think I saw your past. It was a cute memory, though! I don't know how I saw it, but sorry for peeking.

[eidxiety]

[Ain's face colours after hearing that. He was hoping that the liquor was just making him... he doesn't know, melancholy? Thoughtful? How would someone describe that? Do memories often surface when liquor is imbibed, he wonders, or is it solely the fact that the food here is bizarre and magical? How should Ain describe the feeling of being called out on a memory he didn't realise he was sharing?

His lips purse, and he sets the glass down. Okay, no more of that, no more fun.]

I suspect the liquor is to blame.

[But it makes him want to dance. It makes him want to smile and laugh, despite the fact he tries so hard to resist. What is there to dance about? But then he laughs, and grins, and that feeling of what he imagines is drunkenness spreads through his veins like wildfire.]

Why aren't you sharing your memories with me? That would make us even, haha~.

[trashblaze]

[ That makes two of them. It's hard to resist the call of the dance floor. Every second, Caelus feels the urge to move and start dancing already. Another laugh, then he starts moonwalking in circles around the other young man— ]

I don't think I should drink myself silly! I'd love to tell you about it sometime instead, if you're really interested.

[ Despite the magical effects of the drink, Caelus still has enough sense to understand that he shouldn't overindulge in alcoholic content, considering the situation and place they're currently in. He can't risk himself to pass out or lose his reason. Anyway, he's still swaying around. He moves pretty nicely, indicating experience. ]

Here, why don't we dance together instead for now? It's what our hosts probably want to see, too…

[ He means those creepy entities watching everyone from above. ]

[eidxiety]

I'll be holding you to that.

[This is a... threat? Maybe? Ain says it in a tone that's extremely serious, like yes he WILL hold you to that promise because he wants to be even, dammit. And isn't sharing memories how you get to know someone anyway? Granted, the people he got that idea from shared them verbally and not with some weird mind magic type spell... but still!

He spins in a circle as he tries to keep up with Caelus' movements, like a confused animal watching a butterfly.]

Do you know how to dance? I don't. [But he holds his hand out anyway, ignoring the watching entities because he simply does not like them. If he doesn't give them the time of day, surely they'll go watch someone who does, right? That's how that works, obviously.] If you can teach me something new, I'll dance with you~.

[trashblaze]

[ Don't worry, Caelus will keep his promise! He actually can't help but let out an amused laugh for a second because of how serious the young man is about hearing his memories. At the same time, he slows his movements a bit, wanting to ease his dance partner into a good pace. He snaps his fingers, and a couple of colorful stars pop after he uses a minor Imaginary Path ability, then he reaches to accept the hand offered to him.

Caelus gently guides the two of them to a better area to dance in, then raises their connected hands to twirl his partner just once. He's rather good at leading, so the twirl felt natural and airy. The ability he used also helps to light their steps, the floor underneath them glowing gently to help banish just a bit of the darkness surrounding them all. ]

Of course. The trick is to just ease your body and let it move!

[eidxiety]

[Ohh, the stars make him giggle. What a fun party trick... he wishes he had something so cute and fun to offer in return, but he super does not. The twirl is accepted with a second laugh, light and fluttery, though he does briefly find himself distracted by the lights underneath them.]

And to add lights, apparently.

[This, too, is tricks for dancing.

Ain glances to his left at another duo dancing, observes the body language and the placements of their hands, and then holds himself in a proper mimicry of it — shoulders squared, feet apart, and a hand on Caelus' shoulder.

...

And then he smiles and shakes his head.]

I have no idea where to go from here. Do I take a step forward, or back?

[So what was that about "easing your body and let it move"... Ain is trying too hard to be like other people.]

[trashblaze]

[ It's easy to notice how his dance partner is trying to follow the other dancing pairs around them, but Caelus pulls him closer so his eyes would be back on him, not them. He thinks about it for a second, and it seems his partner has never danced before, so he wouldn't know any established steps.

Caelus decides to just wing it, continuing to slowly lead his partner around, dancing lightly and pulling him along with his graceful movements. His gestures are natural, so it becomes reflexive for his partner to know where to put his foot next. He smiles again as a form of encouragement. ]

Hey, look at that. You're just fine.

[eidxiety]

[Oh, thank goodness, someone who knows what they're doing. Mimicry is normally how Ain does things, but he supposes it's nice to get to twirl to his own rhythm and not have to worry about others looking at him. It seems like they aren't, so yes, his attention is on Caelus now.

The floors lighting up under their feet makes him laugh sometimes as the light illuminates their faces, sometimes at flattering angles, sometimes at particularly goofy ones. Ah, but he's having fun either way, so he hardly minds if he might look briefly unflattering.]

Only because you're teaching me~. But I suppose it's easy to fall into step with someone when they're easygoing like this.

[trashblaze]

Yeah, what did I say!

[ Now his partner knows the meaning of "ease your body and let it move" that the trailblazer answered earlier. Caelus cheers visibly, encouraging the young man to keep the nice pace they have now. Soon enough, they're completely moving in a natural flow as their dance goes on, seemingly easily sliding across the gently illuminated floor. Holding onto those hands, the trailblazer takes some steps to spin the two of them around quickly. ]

Oh, I'm Caelus, by the way. The Galactic Baseballer!

[eidxiety]

[Ain can't help but laugh at every spin. Oh, this is kind of fun, isn't it? He's never had time to really let loose and dance. With a little bounce, he easily falls back into step without falling over himself. Whew. Twenty points for not embarrassing himself.

This will not last long.]

Wow! I'm Ain~. No fancy titles for me, haha. What's baseball?

[trashblaze]

[ It's okay! No judgment if he does! Nobody's perfect, especially when it's still the learning stage. Actually, Caelus might even be able to prevent mistakes since he's keeping a good hold of Ain, so he'd be able to catch him if it's necessary. But so far, so good, it's still smooth sailing. The trailblazer lets out a couple of amused laughs at how excited Ain looks. He's glad that he's having fun. ]

I'm sure you'll pick one up sooner or later! If you don't, maybe I'll find you one.

[ Then, a small gasp at hearing the last part… ]

Oh, no. Someone who hasn't played baseball. [ TRAGIC. ] I should get you to play it when we get a chance! It's a really fun sport. Mostly involves running, hitting a ball with a bat, and catching said ball.

[eidxiety]

What if I don't run very fast? Haha~. I'm pretty good at hitting things though. I've never used a bat. Can I use a sword?

[At that point, it's not baseball anymore, but maybe his tone gives away the fact he's joking? Oooor maybe his tone says "I am not at all kidding and think I can play baseball with a sword". One of those, surely.]

[trashblaze]

I'd normally say yes… [ Rules are meant to be broken, etc. ] But it won't be baseball without the beloved baseball bat! We have to follow the rules for stuff like sports, otherwise things won't be fair.

[ If anyone can do whatever the hell they want, the sport will lose its identity of what makes it baseball. ]

No worries, brother. Baseball bats are enjoyable to use, I'll be teaching you! I'm sure you can pick it up very easily. Even kids can play, after all. As for your running, we can improve it with daily exercises!

[eidxiety]

Oh, wow, daily exercises...

[Ain laughs awkwardly, not super thrilled about daily exercises... but he supposes that's what he'd get back home anyway. It's just so much easier to float, but it looks like he doesn't have that here, now does he? Sigh.]

Don't go too hard on me now. I'm fragile~. [do not buy this he is absolutely Not fragile.]

[trashblaze]

[ Somehow, Caelus can tell from Ain's tone that's not true at all. Well, that, and something about his aura seems to emanate a quiet strength. Caelus decides to take it as a joke and laughs a bit, continuing to lead their dance without missing a beat, their feet once again trailed by glow and small stars. They do another happy little spin eventually, then start slowing down as the steps begin to end.

Caelus focuses on the next several moves, increasing the pace slightly to take the breath away of those who gaze upon their movements, then finishes by securing his hands well on his partner's hips to lift and twirl him in the air. The dance finally ends after the last spin, and he places Ain back down, taking enough steps back so he could bow to him. ]

Looking forward to it, Ain!