JAWS • DECEMBER 2025 EVENT/TDM

[uruz]

TDM & EVENT: JAWS

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Show Me Those Pretty White Jaws

The dream has been coming in waves for those new to Sleep's touch, as a shoreline that never stays still. As a sky that never remembers to include its stars. Beneath it all, there is a voice. Her voice: silk-sweet, coaxing from just beyond the approaching wave that towers like a moving mountain. She tells you to come home. She promises it won't hurt, even if she never tells you what waits beneath. You see the shape just before the dream ends: a massive black tidal wave, yawning wide and black until it looks like a pair of jaws breaking upon you. You don't have time to resist.

You and your veteran Vessels will awaken in water.

There is no surface. No bottom. No sky. No sound but your own heartbeat and the echoes of water being slashed though, dull and endless in the still, frigid dark. You are suspended, weightless— Some may have difficulty to breathe without inhaling water the first few times, while those aligned with the waves will feel it come like second nature. Once you acclimate yourself, you'll notice that around you drift glowing filaments; thin, pulsing threads that coil like jellyfish tendrils, softly luminescent. They curl and twist through the water, and when you look closer, you realize: they show you things. Memories, maybe. Dreams, maybe. Each one unique to your gaze: a hand reaching for yours in the dark, a goodbye that never finished, a face you haven't seen in years. They are what you think love looks like. What you once needed it to be. And when you touch them, they wrap around you, gently, warmly . . . Hungrily— and begin to pull you down.

To ascend into the next level, you must let go. But not everything that binds you wants to be released. The filaments drifting through the water show you what you think love looks like— what you've built it into. They are gentle at first, beautiful even, but the longer you cling, the more they pull.

There are ways to escape them: You may bind your filament with another's and together speak aloud a shared truth: what you believe love really is. If your hearts align or at the very least come to an agreement, the threads dissolve into light and lift you upward. If your beliefs clash or contradict, the threads knot tighter, and something . . . May take interest in you.

Beneath you, something moves. Huge, silent and almost regal. It glides through the deep like a phantom, almost too large to be real. You feel its presence before you see its flash of pearl white and glowing red eyes, three on each side of its face: a shark.

The shark is here to choose its next meal. It smells grief, fear and seeks out trauma most of all. It is drawn to the most unspoken parts of you, the very parts you thought were buried, roused from the tightened ropes of what you crave in your heart. And when it chooses you, it does not bite immediately. It invites, with its jaws opening like a sanctuary and slow towards you.

Inside is I, whispers Sleep. Allow Me to have you whole, and you will be at peace. Show Me love.

Fight against her, or even with your current partner about what love is, and Sleep will open her maw, spilling tendrils from her throat and begin to stalk you. Best be prepared to fight the possessed Megalodon— She will laugh, amused as you do, like a great cat playing with its food. And if you were to be caught, well. You'll wake in the dream's next level with an undeniable prey drive, whether Token or Offering.

She will do anything to keep you here.

NOTES:

• There is no surface visible at first. Light only comes from the filaments. As characters resist, act, or ascend, a faint stained-glass shimmer begins to pulse upward, hinting at the dream's next layer.
• Sound is muffled— speech emerges as bubbles, but meaning travels regardless. Words feel heavy here. Some phrases may literally change the water (turn to light, birth dream-objects, or ripple with tension). You will do better using The Murmur as a means of communication. Luckily you have your mask on!
• The Shark always circles once it senses trouble within you. Sometimes close, sometimes far, but always felt. If characters listen closely, they can hear the echo of One's voice coming from inside it: pleading with a haunted, at times screaming melody.

TOKEN EFFECTS

• The dream bends subtly around Tokens, especially at the whims of an Aquamancer. Walls of pressure open before them, and filaments shift course as if expecting them. This can make their path easier, unless they start to doubt their purpose.
• Tokens perceive emotional resonance as currents in the water such as subtle flows of energy. These can guide them (or others) toward escape paths, or signal when the shark is near.
• When a Token speaks or acts with strong intent, the dream sometimes translates it into a symbolic structure: A word might become a floating glyph. A gesture might alter the filament's shape. A moment of clarity might reveal a hidden path. Other characters can interact with these dream-objects, but they're fragile, unstable, and prone to distortion by doubt.
• The deeper Tokens go, the more they feel themselves pulling apart and begin to experience dual awareness: one part dreaming, one part watching— some may even see flashes of within the shark's belly, and One's voice much louder. The deeper they go, the more detached they become, and the more they lack the ability to act at all.

OFFERING EFFECTS

• The shark is more fascinated by Offerings. It circles them often, sensing kinship— or potential. The more monstrous the Offering, the more the shark "pauses' near them, almost curious.
• Offerings feel "the pull" more clearly, particularly Merrows and other aquatic-based Offerings—they can sense where the surface might be, and where the shark intends to strike next. They may even see pulses in the water that others miss, similar to Spider Man's "spidey senses".
• An Offering may experience rapid body changes submerged. Fins may appear, bones may shift, teeth may lengthen without warning and so on. This makes their movement easier or harder, depending on how much of themselves they're holding back or how apt their monstrous forms are at swimming.
• Some Offerings may feel drawn to the shark— not in fear, but in understanding. They may see themselves in it, and vice versa— One's song in particular is hypnotic, and for split moments you may understand his pain through his words. This might make you more prone to being consumed, though, so hopefully your partner can help you out of it—?.

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Watching Me With Eyes Of A Predator

The surface you breach is not water— it's glass.

You strike it with the force of falling sky. It fractures beneath you in a bloom of painted light. For one weightless moment, the dream hesitates, sputters. Then the world shatters, and you fall with the cascade.

Water pours through the crack in the ceiling, carrying you down in ribbons of color and a shattering splash. Stained glass shards drift like petals through the now collapsing roof, and you eventually land not in sand, but upon a cathedral floor, slick with tide. Around you, the water spreads, pooling across the stone and swallowing the walls in a rising hush as it finds escape through the doors.

The cathedral is vast, impossibly so. Its architecture towers, crooked and immaculate, built more from longing than stone. No altar awaits you. No congregation. Only the sensation of having trespassed into something meant to be private. Veteran Vessels may recognize this cathedral as St. Patrick's— before it was drenched in One's blood sacrifice.

High above and surrounding you, the stained-glass mosaics churn with captured light. f you linger beneath one of the window's rays, your appearance may begin to change under the light. You appear as someone else sees you. Be it a hero. A monster. A disappointment. A god. A weakness. A temptation. Even a burden. That version of you clings to your dream-body like a second skin; uncomfortable, intimate, and undeniable. For some, it may be beautiful. For others, unbearable.

If you and another stand beneath the same window, you may each appear as the other secretly imagines. There is no control and no negotiation. Only truth twisted through the lens of want, resentment, fear, or love. And it doesn't go away until you leave the light.

Eventually, the cathedral doors open by dream's will. Beyond them lies a cloister garden: narrow paths, pale trees, and wild flowers that bloom in stillness. At the far end, behind the overgrowth and ruined arches, you see a hollow.

It is a corridor where the dream collapses inward, twisting, warped, half-swallowed in fog and dread. Its stones pulse faintly beneath a shallow film of water. Black tendrils reach from its depths like roots, veins, twitching toward sound, warmth, and movement. You see them dragging matter into the earth, and between them lie bones, contorted and fresh, half-consumed.

And farther still, a body that still breathes. Glimpsed only briefly, A masked man's form is stretched by the hollow's gravity, arms pinned behind the veil. He does not move, or speak. Or perhaps, he cannot. The hollow does not let him go and will not, should you make your attempts. If you step foot in the hollows that have consumed him, you too will be consumed. A three eyed Tod sits at the hollow's edge, a single bushy tail splitting into three, as its body plays with illusion like smoke put to dance over fire. It says, as its head floats up and its maw splits into a grin too cheshire to ignore: Wearing shoes, yet no feet in sight. You'll hear steps pound in the death of night. What is it that you need, to cross this narrow blight?

It disappears and only leaves you the riddle to chew on.

Nothing living can cross the hollow, you'll soon find. Nothing except . . . The Nightmares.

Just outside the garden's boundary, you'll find horses built from wind and shadow, flickering at the edge of your vision. Their bodies are black— not the color, but the absence, swallowing all light. Some of their craniums cound be seen, others have a jutting horn of bone from their foreheads. Where eyes should be, there are six: three stacked on each side of the skull, glowing dimly red like distant embers beneath ice. Their manes flow like torn fabric, like drifting vapor that trails behind them like the smoke from a snuffed candle. Their maws are too damn wide to be herbivorous, yet they seem to enjoy the act of grazing. They wait, unchained and wild in a herd.

This is the only way forward. Only they can pass through the hollow untouched. But how to ride one—? You may chase them. You may plead, command, kneel. You may offer them all your need and all your love, promises that you will provide if they become your steed. But they were not made to answer it. For every Vessel, there is one single Nightmare that will choose them, and thus you will choose each other. They have their own personalities, some more aggressive or shyer than others. The harder you reach, the faster they vanish or harshed they will attack if unready. Try to mount one through force, and you'll regret ever trying. Try to bind one, and it will break you.

But if you are patient, if you figure out its nature and how to please it— your Nightmare may come closer. One may circle you. It may bow its head. Their snort is warm and real against your palm. If successful, it will lower itself to its knees. If you've got the height, they will simply wait, patiently, for you to get on their backs (Or not; there are plenty of sassy mares out there).

If you accept, you might not be taken somewhere safe, but you will be taken somewhere true, away from here. And if you force your want upon them, if you cannot let go— you will be left with something else.

In the distance, across the flooded cathedral floor, you may see One again. Flashes, glimpses. Always chasing a mare he never reaches, or the opposite— the mare chases after him.

NOTES:

• If a character successfully forms a bond with their Nightmare, it will return with them in the form of a waking world steed, officially introduced in the next event. You're free to give it the personality you wish.
• If a character attempts to force a connection with a Nightmare at any point (tries to catch, mount, command, etc.), the mare will bite or kick, which Vessels will suffer as a persistent dream-mark that will carry into the waking world.

TOKEN EFFECTS

• Light clings unnaturally to Tokens in the cathedral, especially near the stained glass. It bends around their bodies like a false halo, casting them in divine or monstrous outlines depending on who watches.
• If a Token casts or channels any magic within the cathedral or near a Nightmare, the spell does not manifest, but instead, a cold mist escapes their mouth, and the Nightmare turns to look. The dream rejects force.
• When a Nightmare looks directly at a Token, their eyes eclipse, pupils vanishing into rings of shadow. In that moment, a fragmented vision floods the Token's mind . . . not from the Nightmare, but from another character nearby. It shows the Token how that character once dreamed of them, what they feared, needed, or hoped they would become.

OFFERING EFFECTS

• The stained glass causes a subtle change in scent and physical appearance turning into a more grotesque version of this— Offerings begin to smell or look like what others most want from them.
• Offerings may always know where the Nightmares are, even when hidden. But the more they try to act on this knowledge, the harder the Nightmares are to reach.
• An Offering's body will react before they realize it, flinching from lies, bristling in moments of emotional pressure, pulling away from contact, and so on. They may startle even at gentle contact, as if something inside them is as reactive as they are.

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Where The Delicate Stops

As your Nightmare takes you through the misty hollow, you may begin to notice the empty city of Manhattan as veterans remember. There is no warning but the eerie silence that surrounds you like impossible weights. The cathedral once behind you folds inward— wrong, deep and full of pressure. It bursts through the hollow's path, through the city's street, and then— The dream ruptures.

Stone peels backward like paper. Glass liquefies mid-air. The sky above the city pulls itself inside out. Time bends sideways. And from the edges of the dream, something, someone, begins to hunt. Sleep's presence moves like the very shark she chose as a vision of her physical manifestation. She does not speak or rage. But you feel Her, rising like fever beneath the skin of Her world as the hairs at the back of your neck do. She does not want you this deep, and neither does One.

Somewhere within the collapse, you may see them— entwined, shifting, trembling. One's face is turned toward you, screaming something that doesn't reach your ears. Sleep's hands are tangled in his body. She pulls him back with a gentleness that breaks the sky, and he screams, reaching for you with his last breath before consumption. The dream convulses.

The Nightmares bolt with you still on them.

The city rises to meet you from the shadows, but it's not the city you know. Skyscrapers twist at unnatural angles. Streets flood, then dry, then flood again. Tendrils burst from subway grates and gutters, slashing upward like tongues. Streetlights spin like compass needles. Cars levitate, crash, freeze midair. You move through it all at breakneck speed, but the exit keeps shifting— a hole in the world that flickers just beyond reach where you see your body, fast asleep.

Somewhere in the chaos, a few Nightmares are caught. Sleep strikes like lightning— she coils like a viper and tightens like a vice. One touch from Her, and your Nightmare collapses mid-gallop, its body unraveling into smoke and light. No sound. No scream. Just absence. And you fall right off it like a ragdoll.

Others fall beneath impact, too— a wrong turn, a shattered wall, a burst of heat from One's grief. A broken leg. A crash. A wound too deep to ride through. If your steed is lost, you fall. And if no one reaches for you, you stay fallen. Others are near, and their Nightmares still run. All of you have a terrible dread in your bones— if you are caught or left behind, the consequences will be dire. You might not even wake up. So, call out. Cling. Climb. Share. Two Vessels on one mount. Anything to survive and flee as the dreamscape tightens its wrathful grip around you.

Sleep calls inside your spine. You can't make out what She says. One answers, the same blur of garbled words in your marrow. And then, just before the dream can take you, just before you reach an exit— you rise.

Your body lifts from the Nightmare as it paddles the air with desperation, it too rising. You're pulled upward, weightless, as if a thread inside your heart has been yanked by a furious god. You float, twist in the air. Your vision glows white.

We've got you.

And then you wake up— mid-air in the waking world.

Your body slams into your bed, floor, street, soil, wherever it was that you had slept. Reality greets you with terrible impact.

NOTES

• If a character does not find a mount in time, they may be caught in the dream collapse. They still wake— but they wake broken. These characters may wake up bruised, disoriented, or emotionally fragmented, and this can be explored in the next waking world event.

TOKEN EFFECTS

• Any Tether they feel becomes unstable—splintered. For brief moments, they feel it breaking and re-forming again and again, with slight differences each time.
• The more emotionally charged they are, the more the dream pulls toward them; tendrils snap faster, debris veers unnaturally close.
• Their body flickers with signs of their own magic—sigils, symbols, runes— burning just beneath the surface of their skin like constellations. These glow brighter as the dream collapses, as if trying to tear free.

OFFERING EFFECTS

• Where Offerings are grazed or injured, they bleed light, not red. It floats up like mist.
• They hear One's heartbeat, not theirs, and it speeds in panic. It affects their own pulse, the mare under them . . .
• The Nightmare no longer follows the Offering's will—it will respond to their fear instead.

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OOC NOTES

➤ Welcome to Somnia's third TDM, which doubles as the month's gamewide event!
➤ This TDM is considered game canon. You are free to have your character remember as many details as possible when they wake up.
➤ Only new characters are free to experiment with the Vessel options, Token or Offering 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!

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kim soleum | gdcg | new!

[roedeer]

A) POUT FOR THE PICTURE

Show Me Those Pretty White Jaws

[ everything's underwater. the fear of not understanding makes it difficult to breathe at first. his hands come to his neck, wrapping around it in an attempt to have some semblance of control: if he chokes himself it's not this doing it to him. he figures this is another noose, while metaphorical, trying to catch him again. fear blankets him, it washes over his entire body, but bubbles that filter out from his mouth prove to him that he's alive. he hasn't died yet. closing his eyes, soleum takes a deep breath and tries to assess his situation. he would have died by now if that were the case, it's another darkness trying to catch him off-guard, all he has to do is breathe.

but even then, soleum still needs to choose an accomplice for his next step. his arm reaches to another source, a familiar hand that he knows, a reliable one that catches him off guard but he doesn't reject it. not now, not in these conditions. the moment he comes into contact with the grip, an anchor that will steel him where his mind cannot at the moment... he's quick to find that this is another mistake on his end. it's not a hand, and it's definitely not one that he knows, instead it's alien to him in it's touch and appearance. the tendril anchors him, a loving embrace, trailing up his arm to wrap around his body like a lover, and it curls around him tight.

soleum gasps from the pain coursing through his body, another parade of bubbles leave from his mouth, and he's unable to move. along the surface of another filament, it flips through various scenarios on beat, and when soleum looks away, it remains there. it beckons for him to keep watching scenes of his memory play out. it makes him feel uneasy: a bird's eye view of him with a pink plush keychain in his hand beheaded, and a pocket knife in the other. the appearance of a comical, yellow dragon in a mascot's suit that's breaking a flower from branched horns. it continues to flip through them like it's telling soleum something.

however, this creature is greedy, and it plays the same role again by reaching out as an anchor much like soleum needed. another tendril slither up from below past him, and once again, it tries to tempt someone in the same manner. it needs two, two people who can understand love. ]

B) IF THERE IS A GOD, IT'S ME

Watching Me With Eyes Of A Predator, option one

[ he's been wandering for some time, unknown scenery around him, and a chill crawling up his back with every step. there are no answers, no signs, and no one he can fall back to in his time of need. it's simply another hurdle he has to face, and maybe once he finds his way through this, he can get out of this odd 'darkness' he's found himself in. luckily for him, glass isn't scary. there's nothing about it that calls for soleum to fear for his life.

but as he examines his reflection, strange red halo and all, soleum's eyes catch something else in mirror. something that causes his eyes to go wide behind his deer-like mask. a terrifying monster looms not too far away, and he's unable to tell if it's looking his direction or not with the sort of face it wears. soleum remains in place as he can hear his heart begin to beat erratically in his ears, and he's doing everything in his power to keep his legs from shaking. the previous location must have left a sour taste in his mouth that's possibly plagued his mind. he doesn't move to turn around. instead, he's racking his brain to think what's his move.

break the mirror and use that as a weapon? run? would that make it give chase? no, he has to do something even better. donning an overly polite smile, and in the best customer service voice that he can muster without it cracking: ]

I've been waiting for you, dear guest! Are you ready to begin your tour?

C) ALLADAT

Watching Me With Eyes Of A Predator, option two

[ he can hear it, the constant neighing and smack of hooves against the ground, but no matter what... soleum doesn't move from his spot behind this nicely sized rock made for him. this isn't his problem. never is it his problem.

it's yours.

you may be trying to bond with their own nightmare, or perhaps they're trying to stay out of the way, but whatever you're doing, you'll find that a nightmare has galloped up to you in a display of dominance. it's almost like it wants to scare you to send you packing by any means possible, the creature even forces itself on back hooves to stand upright to make sure its victim understands. now, if you manage to deal with its eccentric personality, the creature will find you worthy, and it's with determination that sharp teeth come to bite down on your shirt to try and pull you along.

a few tugs, and this peculiar nightmare will bring their victim to the large rock where a certain individual is crouched down behind it with his eyes closed and ears covered. as long as he doesn't see it, hear it, or have anything to do with it, it'll go away. no matter how much soleum feels about this, the nightmare thinks differently, and it pushes it's victim forward as though they'll be of some use here. the eyes of the horse blink one after the other before tilting it's snout in soleum's direction with glee and a whinny.

the creature stomps its front hooves against the ground showing its excitement, and it's counting on your character to give it a good review to soleum because they're not going anywhere until they do. ]

D) WILDCARD

[ hii! if you want anything special, have a different scenario in mind or want to hash out some details send me a pm! if plurk's easier then you can reach me at anjonala and the titles of my prompts are from plvtinum. give him a spin. ]

c

[trashblaze]

[ "This isn't his problem. Never is it his problem. It's yours." Well, guess what? Even without the Nightmare telling him what to do, Caelus will still make it his problem. That's why when the Nightmare attempts to communicate with him, he only smiles at its rather cute attempts, entirely unfazed. This is another Tuesday for the Trailblazer, who is more than accustomed to having entities of all shapes and sizes to seek his assistance, even before finding himself in this strange place. ]

Buddy, are you telling me to follow you?

[ When the Nightmare responds by pulling Caelus, he doesn't question anything further and allows himself to be led somewhere. The Nightmare stops eventually, trying to indicate whatever is behind the boulder. The trailblazer carefully walks over, standing by the large rock and then peeking his upper half in silent curiosity.

What's over here? Oh, it's a man that Caelus has never seen before. He walks closer, lowering his knees until he's the same level as the man curled up on the ground. He's right in front of him now, arms propped on his knees, cheeks resting on his palms as he stares at this guy with a light smile. How long until this guy notices him, he wonders. Well, as tempting as it is to wait, they probably shouldn't linger around here too long.

They never know what could happen in Sleep's nightmares… So Caelus quietly leans in, and…! Whispers way too closely— ]

… Hi!

[roedeer]

[ the nightmare is practically thrilled by caelus' willingness to do as told, and only encourages the behavior. the individual the creature has sought after may be stupid, but this new victim listens, and it believes that after a talk that soleum will be accepting this creature as a comrade.

that's how it should be.

the nightmare has time, plenty of time. however long it takes for caelus to change the man's tune.

how creepy!

a shudder rolls down soleum's spine at the whisper, his eyes widen behind his deer-like mask, and his hands shifting from his ears to lean in a direction opposite of the nightmare, but close enough to caelus to place a hand over his mouth. crimson eyes never lift towards the creature, it's scary appearance making soleum nauseous by the second, but the way he presents himself is someone calm enough as though he's blocking out everything around him because he wants no part.

this person near him is human, speaks like one too, and rather than let his fears be exposed, soleum takes it upon himself to create a narrative. ]

Shhh.

[ what can he say now, why would he keep someone quiet? in a setting like this, a "darkness" he assumes, non-player characters tend to dig into their code and force an event for players who don't want to play to take part. he's pretty sure that's what's happening right now.

the horse backs away just a slight, but remains nearby to give them some room to talk. it's body torn in areas as darkness wafts off the body, and it almost looks like it could disappear at anytime if not for it just being like that. ]

Don't let it hear you.

[ once they understand, it's hard to keep secrets from them, or... that's what soleum is going with for now. ]

[trashblaze]

[ Honestly, Caelus can't blame the man for reacting this way. He'd be cautious too, if it's his first time here. But having spent enough time in this place, the trailblazer already knows a thing or two about how things work around here. He's still fairly new, just a few months here, but it's enough to understand to an extent.

For now though, explanations can wait. It's not like any talking will be done either, with this hand to his mouth. Before anything else, the man needs to gain a sense of calm. Maybe he believes the Nightmare poses danger… But Caelus has seen the horrors of this place, how it twists the living into the strangest forms. The Nightmare hasn't been hostile so far and is the one who led him here, so he believes it might be a friend.

Actually, Caelus can use the Murmur to talk. But he doesn't want the man to run away in case he's startled by it. He's already wary enough as it is. So instead of a vocal (or mind) conversation, Caelus opts to use his hands. He waves them several times, trying to indicate that it'll be okay. ]

[roedeer]

[ his eyes fall upon the person as he gestures that all is well, soleum can understand the hand movements because they're slow and deliberate, nothing that would warrant fear. still, that doesn't mean he can be as lax as the other beside him, and while the situation doesn't seem as dire...

soleum only feels better when the creature makes distance.

once he feels freedom to move about, soleum takes advantage of grabbing the other's wrist before smoothing his hand underneath caelus'. staring at the man's palm for a few minutes, he brings his index finger to the center and begins to write. whether the other knows korean or not is something soleum will find out soon enough. ]

Familiar?

[ allowing his hand to remain there in his own, soleum's crimson eyes behind the mask lift up to meet with the other's.

does he know what they do? what they want? from what soleum's seen, he doesn't want to know. those that have ridden them, those who have disappeared, what is the end destination, are those characters still alive. if this is a flag, and this individual came here, perhaps he can give useful information.

any information is useful as far as soleum is concerned! ]

if there is a god, it's the absence of personal space

[hallowedly]

( Glass cuts, light brims — mirrors like to listen.

Darkest night is only the viscera of Tsukuyomi-no-Mikoto, punctured by filigree of a gasping moon and spattered stars. For a staccato of heartbeats, in deep water, this is ink fresh ground, this is an eye blind on open and a pupil overblown, this is — nothingness, hungering.

And then the waters break, the tide breathes, glass cuts; there's the floor, ache of his knees, the mad billowing of black ceremonial robes scattered. The Cathedral's a known equation: one plus one equals One's death, and Seishirou's slower to rise in dream's quagmire than in the living, breathing world of forensic paraphernalia.

Light brims, like gasoline on an oil spill, each window pane's tesserae burning. He is called, not summoned. Follows, on instinct, where drips of kaleidoscopic beam focus. And if he is sluggish and weighed and waterlogged and wraith-like in his kitsune mask, what of it? Theatre is the art of cadence. The moment calls for them to breathe (be) slow.

And Sleep's real treasures are always the friends they make along the way. Predictably, he's not alone — and he spares the gentle(wo?)man a weighted glance — whether his company is to be a constant or collateral damage remains to be seen. Around them: hard, heaving tiles and walls straining tall like the tortured spines of adolescents bursting summer strong. He pays it little mind, steps staggered until he reaches —

The rabbit-like creature, jittery in the mosaic's reflected light, all languishing long limbs.

— and past that, Seishirou's hand comes out from behind the stranger, drag of his sleeve curtaining down with a groaning wet sag, as he touches the glass. Feels it, for nooks, for crannies, for polished parts, for cracked whole. For the whispers and wisps of magic caught and sundered. )

Hush. ( This, far too gently hissed to the poor gentle(wo?)man trapped between him and the window's stretch, because introductions are for creatures with more patience to invite their human obstacle to step aside than Sakurazuka Seishirou. ) Mirrors like to listen.

if personal space's above, soleum's pinned beneath

[roedeer]

[ a chipper smile, unwavering and trying to keep itself together, practiced after months and months of painful encounters with horrors he couldn't imagine. he attempts to wear his smile well, trick those that engage with him, act as if he knows all about this place.

this is the unknown, an intimidating creature that lurks behind him and begins to slowly come closer. kim soleum closes his eyes to ignore the figure to hope that they leave, that they'll continue on, and yet he can hear the wet steps and light drips hit along the ground. the audio cues do nothing for soleum only to drive his imagination wild of what could be coming. his heart has made it to his throat, as he swallows, he slowly opens his mouth to keep himself in control of his narrative.

when he reopens his eyes, the figure is closer, looming, and soleum is nestled in place between the mirror and whoever it is behind him. the weight of their clothes, or could that be skin, pressed against his back, a coldness creeping up his skin but he remains still. as much as soleum has trained himself to remain composed, there's a moment where his mouth parts briefly before closing.

the mirrors listen? either they're familiar with this "darkness" or soleum's yet to understand what he's against. he doesn't want to see, but he has no choice, allowing his brain to fill in the gaps was a mistake because as soleum properly looks at the mirror again is where the form of his his dear guest shifts. something around his height, a bulky humanoid beast that has the appearance of an octopus, and the elongated neck of it ends abruptly where soleum can see into the hollow inside. in place of where the head should be floats a spherical black substance that floats upwards like drips of rain. it's pallid skin brings dread, as well as the four undulating black tentacles underneath that give it movement, and what he believes is pinned against his body.

soleum presses himself against the glass in an attempt to make some space, but there's only so much he can take for himself. his antlers knock against the surface, and when kim soleum opens his mouth again, his breath shakes and heats up the glass. he believes that his heart may just crawl out of his chest and jump to the ground, splattering all over the floor. it's times like there he wishes that braun were here, just to hear his voice, to have someone who could be his eyes and remind him he shouldn't be afraid.

his heart won't stop beating, the creature can probably feel that too from how close they are.

again, he tries to temper his breathing, avoid hyperventilating, but it comes out as such because who wouldn't feel a bit bothered with someone so close!? though, it's not the proximity, it's the creature molded by soleum's concerns. a hand lifts, his fingers drawing along the surface to draw korean alphabets. ]

Guest?
Please allow me to help you!

[ he won't turn around, no, what if what he thinks is worse? he doesn't care. there should be some ease knowing that the advice is good-willed, or is it, but this is a dilemma soleum must work out first.

even in the mirror, there's something wrong about him too, the look of something with elongated limbs, something that he doesn't even want the full view of that's replaced his reflection, but with great effort, he manages to keep his eyes trained on his guest. ]

[hallowedly]

( Illusions, grotesquely crude. He seems himself, bones splintered and silhouette contorted and the snagging edge of his bestial gaze, reflected. Sees the young pale thing, struggling, begging the boon of a bite, as flighty creatures do. Death, for something so nervously strained, may well be a kindness. On the tautly splayed mosaic, Seishirou's fingertips curl and ease, and he thinks —

He sees, beneath and before him, a rabbit thing, blood-eyed and quivering and the sharp arc of his jagged knees and the broken bend of his creeping back. And fur, thin and scattered and snowed. As rabbits go, overgrown. In dire need of mustard of shallots. Think: why? A distortion of their flesh, aligned with — ...suspicion.

...trust? Distrust. They can only ever fear and flee what they lets them hunt or lets them be weak. But then, why sow discord? There are easier, more expedient ways to cull an unwanted population, through means either plague-born or meteoric. Why go to such lengths...?

Ah. To distract. And, with a slow pat on the rabbit's scapula, he peers even closer in, the Murmur a convenient retreat: )

Your breathing is distracting.

[roedeer]

[ a voice that isn't his seeps into his mind where thoughts run together, questions and solutions come to a halt with a newfound tone there. what should have been the other responding in kind on the glass is met with ... oh, soleum doesn't like that, he really doesn't like it. jumping, he can't help but step backwards knocking into what he believes to be some sort of aquatic creature from how they feel, how they act, and how it only gets worse.

stare at the mirror, soleum, stare.

a hand comes to the mask that he wears to adjust it properly (making sure that it hasn't fallen off), and he learns that it's still properly there despite the jolt.

there's no response, nothing, it must be evident that activating the Murmur isn't anything that soleum is familiar with. instead, his own thoughts are to himself, some disbelief in the sight of what he's merged into, a creature that by default he wants to peel off his own skin much like the one before. that rabbit addled with violence, the need to destroy and maim whatever comes into contact with his world of red, and now his body shares some relation.

it's a rabbit, but nothing as cute as braun, it's something different clearly intimidating enough that soleum feels nauseous when he looks down at himself.

still leaned against him, soleum brings his hands to what he wants to be normal fabric and not dried skin holding in moisture behind him. with a shake of his head, he attempts to peel himself off the other's chest before steadying his breathing as his heart runs wild. ]

pout

[dedicate]

[ what he needs, huh?

the image reflected in the filament that catches agent choi's eyes is also a hand outstretched—but not in offering. just the opposite of what kim soleum might have seen to draw him closer, the hand that reaches out to choi is reaching out for safety. for rescue. it trusts in him, and what else is he supposed to do but reach back?

when his fingers wrap around it, the filament dissolves from its shape, coiling around his wrist in turn. there are a lot of things reflected in its shine: a cozy space with round couches and billowing curtains lining a brightly lit window, board games and comics and manhwa lining the shelves; he sees a loud, boisterous restaurant, with three men sitting around a table—one stiff, one timid, and one bold; he sees a marble that glints under the light, someone special held safe inside.

but perhaps it's not the marble that's glinting. rather, as the thin tendrils drag him down, down, down, bubbles rising as he descends, that very person appears before his eyes.

his own agent grapes—or rather, kim soleum is wrapped in warm, glowing filament. pictures flicker across its surface too, pink dolls and yellow mascots. nothing that agent choi can understand. what he does understand is that his body reacts on instinct, using the filament as a means through which to pull himself closer to the other, closing the distance.

until he's close enough to take soleum's hand—the very one that had drawn him closer—in his. ]

[roedeer]

[ the tendril around him tightens, he thinks, or it's the movement of the one connected close shifting around. no matter what he has to keep himself focus, awake, do anything to keep his body from crashing down from the pain. he doesn't understand why it's growing tighter and tighter, why something in the dark depths has chosen him of all people. he has nothing to give. he doesn't know what the images are trying to say.

it could be angry with him, disappointed that he won't look, that he won't acknowledge the scenes flipping one by one. he doesn't want to, especially when it's his memories that only he should know about. his eyes closed shut so tight that his face his starting to hurt, another exhale, and a swarm of bubbles free from between his lips.

he thinks if it keeps going, this pain, he might just—

the cold touch of the water wrapped around his body, the tight burn of filament tightening around him is nothing compared to this light and delicate touch, warm around his flinching fingers. this contact is the only one that doesn't hurt, it's like a salve to wounds of not knowing here he is, or what's happening. kim soleum coughs, he breathes in too hard as water goes down into his lungs, and his hand grips desperately to the one around his. fingers lace between the other set, then his nails dig into the flesh to ensure the other can't leave.

when he opens his eyes, soleum never looks to where that person is, in his mind, he's too terrified that he might be holding onto a monster. he can't help it, he doesn't know what to do, his mind is firing off sparks at what could he even do in this situation. his eyes burn, his vision is blurry, and his eyes turn to the filament instead.

he can't look, he can't look. ]

[dedicate]

[ bicycles riding down the street. a dinner table shared with two others. a comfortable room that soleum knows all too well. there are all kinds of things that could flicker before soleum's eyes, if the filament is what he wants to look at. but something in agent choi's chest seems to come to a screeching halt the moment he sees that familiar face. then, it starts again with a stumble and a skip. time that seemed frozen for an instant continues moving quickly, quickly, and he has to move quickly too. something's wrong here. ]

Grapes? Grapes! Hey, hey, it's just me—look at me!

[ he can feel the fear in soleum's movements. he can feel it in the murmur too—projected sharp and loud against choi's mental landscape.

his voice comes out with bubbles, muted and distorted under the dim ocean they've found themselves swallowed by, but that's not the only thing at his disposal. it's far from the only thing he intends to use. the tendrils wrap around soleum tightly, squeezing the air out of him, so agent choi uses that as his starting point. rather than pulling soleum towards him, he pulls himself towards him.

with the last of the distance closed, he takes his junior by the shoulder with his free hand, first making sure that he faces him properly. then, choi takes a note out of caelus' book—presses that hand to the side of soleum's face, against his cheek, and he gets right up in his business. leans close—enough that when he exhales, the bubbles might just tickle against soleum's nose. ]

Grapes...!

[roedeer]

[ please don't show him that either, he might get sicker with every scene flashing of things like this. if he could have anything, a blank strip of nothing in relation to him would make soleum feel at peace. it'd help the pain that's crushing him from his sides. unfortunately, he can't look away, or maybe he's tired of doing so as eyes linger on the filament. what soleum's not sure of is if there's audio playing from it, or if that's his mind filling it in as they pass. the sounds of horns blaring and idle chatter add to the cacophony of the streets as they ride their bikes, the laughter from a joke, or the cough of eating too fast at the table with glass shattering when a cup falls over.

stop it.

bubbles filter into the ocean, freely dispersing as they raise up before the blurriness of soleum's eyes. he can't see, they abstract the sights before him, they made the figure seem anything else but human— a nose lifted to the side, the bubble capturing an ear and some hair to make it smaller through the window, a vibrant blue eye that pierces through the darkness in another. his mind is putting together what it is, who it could be, how could it be?

wet hands smooth against his face within the water keeping his gaze in place, he wrinkles his nose weakly. that voice that breaches through the muted waters, a name, that one voice that has always found itself creeping into his ears so resolute and confident, so sure...

grapes...!

the scene in the filament changes, all black, words written in red ink and centipedes crawl over top of them as a older monk speaks, his voice controlling, and his words like faith. it's imposing, it forces the hearer to listen.

「 There is no nirvana, no liberation.

This is the truth of the world. Eternal liberation approaches. At the end of the degenerate era, offer up your pain, loss, and madness, spit out your bones, and you will gain eternal life. That is the true form of the Way, and it is the law with priceless worth. 」

I must respond.

a different voice from the monk's has appeared, empty and willing.

that's me.

that's my voice.

but that's also... my name.

I know that.

But……

‘D█ I ░ea▓▓y h▓ve t█?’

I let my head drop.

……I’m tired.

that hold choi has on soleum's face to keep him in place, something in the water shifts, and soleum's head falls right into the man's chest. it was only for a brief moment of who he saw, someone that's so familiar. ]

……I'm tired.

[ despite they started this journey together with others to enter a certain place, that hand he had reached to in that moment.. soleum can't even say that he found him, it's because he wants to avoid him, he has to avoid him.

and yet.

what little strength he has in his hand gently squeezes at the one holding his.

bubbles form underneath where soleum rests his head, exhausted from the tendril tightening even more around him. ]

...You found me.

[ or should he question it? everything hurts, so it's hard to tell what he should do. ]

B!

[inverseye]

[ The fall from the cathedral let him soaking and ragged. Saheon ended up ripping off the mask and eyepatch together in an effort to dry his face and hair. The salt drying still feels unbearably itchy, like the loving filaments of the jellyfish are still clinging to his face and limbs. Whatever. It's all a dream, so he just needs to kill time until he wakes up.

He was going to walk right past this room, with no more then a glance towards its occupant. Why would he? It's clearly nothing but bad news and worse, another typical monster of Sleeps waking dreams. It calls in a human voice, but who cares about that... Coiled around the mirror is no human being. It defies belief, the legs of a dragon, the maw of a eel, the horns of a kirin, a stag, warped beyond measure, shifting, changing, dead, alive, insect, fish, mammal and man and-

The false eye blinks. Saheon is so used to it not working, he almost forgets to look but he has to pause and do a double take. The halo that practically splits the room is unmistakable...

...

Saheon doesn't hesitate. With a practiced precision that is almost comical in its confidence, he turns on his heel and starts purposefully walking away...

Bye!!!!!! BYE!!!!! ]

[roedeer]

[ and kim soleum spoke. ]

My, oh my, dear guest.

[ it's spoken in a smile, forced as it is, this doesn't surprise soleum at all because the idea of this darkness was they were to go together. had he forgotten the agreement, it really doesn't surprise him that he'd take this as his chance to book it when there's no one else.

a turn of his head, the creature in the mirror follows his movements perfectly with mangled parts that barely hold together. steam from the snout, a limb that splits in two but merges together, the sharp teeth of an eel that illuminates red thanks to the fragmented halo sitting comfortably over top of the man.

where is he going?

the mirror clips when saheon walks, his form shifting underneath the light unless he avoids it by purpose. a chad, really, no someone older, mature, that comic hesitance replaced with a man uncaring and composed. the appearance is still saheon, but a twisted smile etches in place until saheon turns, his reflection does too. a giant snake, the shape of a viper that can hardly fit in the glass' screen, but every distance he inches further and further will the reptile grow smaller. slowly soleum's patience plays along with this change in the man's appearance.

with a quick swing of soleum's hand, it knocks against the glass causing a crack that fractures in the path of where saheon goes. pieces fall over as they shatter onto the ground one by one, and even the frame from his waist up falls right beside saheon and splits upon contact with the ground. soleum withdraws his hand as that wasn't really his intention, but whatever works to cause dissonance. ]

Do you really think this is the time?

[ with most of the mirrors damaged, the upper side of the beast is unseen, but if saheon looks down towards the ground or broken glass, the pieces to create together monster he saw before. closer and closer. ]

I saw you.

[inverseye]

...

[ His steps slow. Those words are like cold water down his spine, but Saheon keeps his head down and his eyes ahead. Supervisor Roe Deer. It's no surprise to find him in the darkness to end all Darkness. Perhaps the emotion Saheon is feeling is simply surprise it's taken his wayward roommate so long to show up?

It doesn't matter. The form doesn't matter, real or an illusion dreamt by Sleep. Kim Soleum could probably have a thousand heads or one, depending on his mood and what he found amusing. That bastard has cheated death enough to exceed a count on two hands. Saheon owes him nothing, and has nothing to gain from sticking around to deal in Soleum's many problems.

The light burns in a way it didn't before, cloaking his body in a heavy shroud. Limbs straighten, a head held high and alert, a heartbeat steadies as the body regains composure, even if the mind does not. Saheon stills. He doesn't feel like smiling, but his mouth is twisted.

Then the form twists again, and for a moment, the solid illusion is so all encompassing Saheon isn't even sure what is happening.

Thank god, the mirrors shatter before it can get any further. He's back to the first, for now at least. The older man flinches, or...winces might be a better term, like the sky-high monster taking up most of the hall is just a distasteful brat making a loud ruckus. ]

Supervisor Roe Deer.

[ It's the same way of talking, really, but the scattered fragments on the floor show such casual confidence in that bearing, a mirror multiplied wry smirk! Even before the horrific maw of the monster looming above him, the illusion in the mirror doesn't even blink!

...It would be appealing to the most basic vanity in Saheon's personality if it wasn't for this simple fact: Saheon is really freaking the hell out here!? He doesn't want to be having this conversation at all!! Go away!! ]

I... just didn't think I'd need a tour? I'd hate to waste your time, sir.

[roedeer]

[ nails tap against the ground, they crush the glass as they pop underneath the weight of those legs, paws, whatever they are. whatever this is, whatever baek saheon sees him as, kim soleum has no control over how his body contorts to feed the mind of the other man. confidence exudes from that general area around the body of a high ranking elite, it's uncanny, saheon doesn't have that yet. ]

When have you been a waste of my time? I value your cooperation.

[ that's how things are supposed to be, baek saheon. doesn't he know why they're here? doesn't he understand that if he goes missing then the plan they all planned on will come to ruin. ]

Any and all that you give me.

[ even here, kim soleum remains unwavering because he cannot show fear, he cannot allow this darkness to be why he crumbles. even if saheon isn't aware, soleum can only be so antagonizing, the other did save him to an extent. without him, he wouldn't have gotten this far, and even though saheon ran before soleum could accept the outcome that doesn't change what role he plays.

the scattered glass showcases that vulgar smile, a predator's filled with poison that could strike at any moment. those same fangs which tricked many unknowing individuals of daydreams, that wry smirk proud of itself after manipulating agents. the perfect form untouched by the minds of young children who don't know how to handle all of that.

an open maw of the beast — drip, drip, drip of saliva... does it hunger or is it waiting for the man to make the wrong move. carnage, death, fear, the body decomposes, it sloshes along the ground, and the glass illuminates red as it casts overhead the image of viper like a sky on fire.

despite these forms, underneath, they are still who they were when they first met only with a few changes, and that being saheon's eye. ]

Goat, it would be ill-advised to go off on you own, especially when you came with no one else.

[ or maybe there is someone with him? depending on his reaction, soleum can get an idea of maybe lee jaheon is with him, or even ryu jaekwan, what of agent choi, could he have found lee seonghae? who else is accompanying you vip— baek saheon?

did he get separated, or... was he always alone? ]

pout for the picture;

[salaryman]

[ The water seems to really want to break up with him. But it seems like he is a persistent ex that is in a toxic relationship.

Actually - isn't it the tendrils that are the issue and not the water itself? He tilts his head to the side. In dreams, he returns to his roots; his ability to manipulate water as he pleases. It helps as he finds himself witnessing an interesting series of events.

Pinching his chin, he observes them carefully before the tendrils wrap around him as well. Ah, dear -- I'm afraid I don't know what love is, either~ It is what he thinks but the image of what love is for him comes from something else. Sacrificing everything - the world, everyone, everything - for the person they love.

Kanoe-san. I believe you love very deeply. More so than anyone else. I'm only sorry that I'm showing this to someone who might not understand.

His expression softens rather than turns sharp. He turns his head to the person and tilts his head as he doesn't recognize them. Lifting his hand, he gives a wave - the wave allows for the water to bend to his will. It gives them literal breathing room and means to chit-chat without fear of drowning with one another.

Of course, he can't do anything about the giant shark roaming around, but at least, he solves one problem. ]

Hello. Your idea of love is ... tokens from other people, I take it?

[roedeer]

M-My what!?

[ he coughs, the water out of his lungs due to the man's ability, and the tendril wrapped around his waist keeping him in place which is fine. soleum is happy with the assistance to stay within the air bubble provided to him. ]

I'm... not sure what you mean. No.

[ truthfully, that caught him off guard that he's looking at the man inscrutably and regaining some sense of calm. is that how this entire thing works? he could have some connection to the sea creature here due to his powers, but even soleum is having difficulties with this.

if he can speak with it and learn, could he ask it to let him go! ]

What do you mean love?

[ despite the scenery on the filament rapidly changing when soleum looks to it, it then starts to slow down as though ready to pick a scene. to avoid that, he's returning his gaze back to his companion. ]

[salaryman]

I'm sorry, I'm sorry - I was just guessing.

[ Yuuto holds his hands up in apology. His gaze drifts to the large shark that is wandering through the waters. It seems to just be "vibing", as the kids would say, so allows them to carry on their debate. ]

Hm - I mean, what do you think about love?

[ The only reason he could guess it was about "love" is because of what he saw. He isn't necessarily a violent person; in fact, even though his destiny is to assist those that wish to destroy all humanity, he doesn't have any negative feelings towards people. But in that same vein, he also doesn't have extreme positive feelings, either. ]

Or do you mean to ask me what do I mean when I think about love?

[ To be playful, to have fun while they question each other, he floats along with the tendrils around him. He turns himself upside down as he sits cross legged; his smile remains as he asks his questions. ]

[roedeer]

I don't understand, what would love have to do with anything... You have control over... this, don't you?

[ the ability to part the water, to understand what this has to do with love, what other reason would it be aside from him being the ring leader? soleum looks over to the man who keeps a smile on his face, a playful air about him that's meant to be relaxing, but it only sends a shiver down his spine!! uncomfortable, he takes a deep breath.

he should relax, even if the other does have control over what's going on, it makes soleum wonder what he could even gain from this.

what comes from trapping kim soleum in the tendril vortex to ask him about love, what does he even know about that? love is the last thing on his mind, especially when he's been submerged underwater, and the light of the filament flashes before his eyes with scenes that appear broadcasted from his memory.

when he turns away, it stops. ]

From what you displayed moments ago...

[ please tell him yes!! ]

c for critter

[sacral]

[ In observing the mares for a time, Subaru had, up until now, come to conclusion that most preferred to dance, threaten, and circle their way around intrusion unless they were ready to choose a rider. He's certain his magic has been dulled for that purpose, its presence pale on his fingertips and in his throat, all chill and dust. That this horse is perfectly comfortable with bossing him around in a flourishing clatter of hooves and a nip of its impressive teeth while he feels no particular urge to soulbond with it...

— it must mean it's chosen someone else already, right?

Unable to resist the allure of another's problem made his own, Sumeragi Subaru allows him to be harassed and tugged over to the perfectly Kim Soleum-shaped rock. Peering over the edge, bearing the dream's choice of full onmyoudo regalia and four-eyed housoushi veil, he gently taps the rock with his fingertips to announce himself. ]

Someone would like a word with you. [ A gentle point to the nightmare. ] Or so it says.

[ Advocacy; it takes an eccentric to know an eccentric. ]

critter wrangler, please wrangle this critter

[roedeer]

[ as long as he doesn't look, as long as he doesn't acknowledge then he can move on without being bothered by such disgusting looking creatures. their lack of flesh, how their innards twist and disappear in the way that they move, as well as the extra set of eyes that blink out of ordering peering into his soul. he'd rather just not deal with it!

the rap of knuckles along the the surface calls the man's attention, his head tilts up revealing the deer-like mask that covers only his eyes, and antlers protruding from the upper forehead—but subaru may recognize the antlers as belonging to something else. his crimson eyes linger on the attire of his stranger, then sweep up to the mask, and doesn't dare look behind them in case that beast is nearby. his lips are pressed into a straight line, neither surprised or taken aback that someone would find him hidden behind here.

his main issue is that he can't let it be known he was cowering, and instead his purse of lips shift into a polite smile as his heart is practically trying to find its way up his throat, pry open his teeth and leave soleum's body. retain composure, take this in stride, all it is ... is conversation with a subject matter that might cause him to faint, this is another monday. ]

I see. [ that is a claim to make. it's not unfamiliar for a narrative to throw a curveball: send in a horse whisperer, the horse taking upon a human form, or even a spirit that watches over the entire herd. whichever one this person falls over, what does soleum have to do to change the attention on him over to him, for free even! ]

You've finally appeared.

[ soleum's fingers touch at the markings engraved on the back of the rock he'd been hiding behind, poorly drawn stick figures of another person coming to check what lingers behind this slab. an easy deduction considering that horse has been at it for awhile now. ] Its true owner.

[sacral]

Me?

[ Subaru's mouth flecks upwards at its corners, docile in knowing rather than in nature. He's been drenched in the colors of the occult for so long that sometimes he forgets his tolerance stretches beyond the limits of normalcy. Dreams, nightmares, the half-light of ghosts and demons prowling the grounds of his heard where humanity might have lived better. Divine things are as difficult to behold as desecrated things. He opts action in light of where the man's eyes land, but he also opts gentleness.

Lifting his hand, he presses the backs of his knuckles to the mare's snout, urging it behind the curtain of his sleeve. It whines and it nips and it dances a little on its front hooves, petulant but warded back out of sight.

Subaru's one good eye draws to the path Soleum's fingers take across the rock, sensitive to the presence of a language. ]

What makes you say that?

[roedeer]

It's written on stone, isn't it?

[ because he wrote it. after awhile, the back and forth of the creature trying to lead anyone to him made him think that yes, it's possible the creature is interested in him. while that may be true, soleum isn't in the same mindset, and he is not the person to take this nightmare as a companion. the most soleum can do is find someone is capable enough to take the creature off his hands — someone more deserving than the man who can't even look it in its many eye...s. ]

Like a glimpse into the future. But it's hard not to notice your compatibility.

[ his fingers smooth cross the outline in stone that he made to make sure the other can see the set up presented to them. someone hiding— waiting and another person stumbling upon with a nightmare in tow. it can be read another way, but soleum made sure to make the person behind the stone appear like he's encouraging a friendship with raised arms than desperate and in search of something. ]

I can understand if you have reservations. From those I've met, it seems like people are still getting used to the idea.

[ this person though, the way he handles the nightmare with ease with one graceful motion tells soleum many things. he's adapted. if not for the mask, soleum would have thought he's a main character of this location from his way of dress, a sort of flashiness to it. ]