JAWS • DECEMBER 2025 EVENT/TDM

[uruz]

TDM & EVENT: JAWS

Watch on YouTube

ᛗ

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—?.

ᛗ

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.

ᛗ

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.

ᛗ

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!

network ᛗ logs ᛗ ooc ᛗ memes ᛗ navigation

code

code

Comments

[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. ]

[sacral]

[ His compatibility with most anything pitted against him is pedigree — bred by his natural acceptance of whatever people put before him. A tea he doesn't like, a meal he has no time for, a horse in wraiths' clothing. Or a yawning dream-touched hollow, glyphs on stone, the fingertips of a translator. Nothing seems so strange to him anymore. (Even if he would really prefer a t-shirt and some sneakers right now to accoutrements and regalia...) ]

No, I have none. [ is it bravery or stupidity that drives the ex-protagonist. ] If this is how we proceed to the next layer of the dream, then I'm fine with it.

[ He takes a step forward in the damp, impossibly emerald grass, too saturated in mist and color to be anything but a dream. Just to get a better look at the stick figures beneath his fingertips. ]

It's just not often I see [ ... ] instructions.

[roedeer]

Since it's a dream, I see nothing weird about it.

[ stick figures gives it a child's interpretation, he thinks, and someone as well-rounded as soleum hopes that it doesn't look like he's done that. he only moves and inch or two allowing his company to assess the surface of the rock.

it's much like what this mysterious man in a mask has said, a boon for whoever comes to the opposite side of this rock to be bestowed a horse. there's nothing soleum can do with a horse, especially when the next layer isn't what he's looking for or after.

a small smile pulls onto his lips. ]

Especially if you're proceeding, it's your lucky day.

[ even if that nightmare was trying to get soleum, there's nothing saying he can't offer the horse to someone else who can utilize it properly. the next layer, or whatever is beyond this, isn't where he's going. a hand comes to soleum's wrist, fingers idly pinching at the cuffs of his jacket. ]

Instructions come in different forms, they're clear once you accept them reaching out to you.

[sacral]

[ Nothing weird, no. Dreams are typically conduits for other emotions or maladies — paths that bare less physical truths and hurts. Only by the virtue of it being One's dream are things here strange. But something about his ensuing smile stills him, roiling strangeness and soft alarm in his chest. Quietly, he reaches up to untie the cloth mask and slip it down from his face. He trades the painted embroidery of four divine eyes for an ordinary human two; one shines cloudily, long unseeing.

Her reprimand comes swift and searing, dread welling in every corner of his body receptive to it. Removing a mask in the dream has stipulations, but they're a bearable risk. Subaru has never preferred the masks where he has a choice in it, even if unadvisable. ]

Is there something keeping you here?

[ A plain ask that's half-guesswork, the murkiness of the garden and the prickle of Sleep's displeasure roving the back of his neck like static. ]

...if you don't intend to move on.

[roedeer]

[ at first glance, soleum felt confident enough that he's managed to pass off the stallion with ease as he doesn't need it. from the frightening, decrepit design of slack flesh and visible bone, it does nothing to ease soleum's trembling heart. what he finds is relief looking at someone far more human, it's why the dotted crimson surrounded by a black iris never strays from his company.

that is until four pairs of eyes, majestic in their design, become two, and soleum's gaze follows almost shocked by the gesture. in this position, he feels as if he's looking upon something he shouldn't know, a private matter that could have remained hidden behind the mask. his gaze lifts up, and falls upon his odd-eye company.

the employee's voice is measured, controlled, though there's worry in his mind that this is no good. ]

...Yes, you are right. [ he answers honestly, as he quickly moves onto the problem at hand. his first concern is to not bite his tongue, the second is to make the request: ]

You shouldn't take it off.

[ this would be easier if he could guide his hand up and place it back, but that sort of invasion of privacy isn't available to soleum at the moment. surely, he can use reason with him? ]

This Darkness is most likely a higher grade than Shade. It would be dangerous if it steals your appearance.

[ his reason for staying can be a topic that's set aside for the moment. ]

[sacral]

I know.

[ He shouldn't, but he has. He always will, if he stands to gain more than what it'll cost him. Consequences can be staunched for a time if he simply wills it so; even his waking magic is like this. Pausing at the precipice between man, stone, and stallion, Subaru crosses his arms and leans against the rock. He raises his gaze to the foggy pastures, the leering shadows prancing through it. Almost thoughtlessly, he wards the stallion back a little further, offering it his decorative sleeve to nip at and pull.

Fear has an energy. It roves in delicate patterns across his capillaries, diffuses in the heavy, aching air of this place.

Those words turn over in his awareness as he gleans meaning from them. ]

I'm sorry, I'm not familiar. Which Darkness do you mean? The herd? Or this place?

[roedeer]

[ soleum stares, the antlers of his mask shift slightly to one side by a twist of his head, turning his neck to try and understand what the person's methods are. there's a consequence for doing that, isn't it? he recalls, his mind sifts through every conversation he's had thus far, and once it clicks the employee closes the distance between him and his company. ]

I see.

[ it's the danger that he's familiar with, knowing that the mask should remain, and doing the complete opposite. it's worrisome! if he doesn't care for what happens to him, then he could keep everyone else around him in mind! ]

This place. The ocean, the building... and here, we shouldn't provoke it unnecessarily.

[ if it's what he believes it to be, it's designated as a high grade, but as far as what's dangerous? there are things that could be, but they haven't shown the extent of what they're capable of. without knowing what they can do, this individual is taking a risk that could lead the darkness to act unpredictably.

his hands lift up together, obviously his attention is on the other's mask and he's very well aware that rejection is possible, but he wants to try. ]

May I?

[sacral]

[ It's a brazenness that would seem ill-suited to his demeanor if not for his surety. Surety in himself, hard-won, and surety in the limits of the dream, or the Darkness, as his companion here calls it. It's a familiarity juxtaposed between impossible instances and how his hands stand to bend them to his will, if only he tries. Should the worst happen, Subaru is certain he could protect him and the worry-bruised skittering of his heart.

His glance flickers downwards, wonder moving in the dark color of his good eye. Before he closes it, anyway, acquiescing to this stranger's request too easily...

He bows his head. ]

Yes, go ahead.

[ And, while he waits: ]

How do you decide a Darkness's grade?

[roedeer]

[ his hands raise up, they gingerly place themselves on the sides of his unique mask with the right amount of care to avoid breaking it. ]

That's your main concern?

[ rather than looking out for himself, he asks about the way a darkness is graded... really, the technicalities of it all, and here he is not wearing his mask properly. there are those who wish to learn at the expense of themselves, and he knows that, but his company doesn't have to do that now! ]

Right. There are many ways, but it comes down to a risk assessment.

[ his thumbs come underneath the mask, pushing it up properly along the bridge of the man's nose to make sure it's not uncomfortable. while he does this, soleum continues on with what he knows and maybe it's not a bad choice, the other could know something? ]

Like how dangerous is it, and how much we understand of it. [ he pauses for a moment to allow that to sink in, fingers slipping underneath his companion's black hair to smooth them on the outside of the mask. this is to avoid it pulling at the scalp in case the mask is tight. ] Traversing something we don't understand would be tedious, wouldn't it?

[ locking eyes with the other one last time, he withdraws his hands, and soleum takes a step back. ]

You'll stay safer this way.

[sacral]

[ There's a shift in the cadence of his breathing when he thinks he stands the chance of being scolded, a knowing lilt to his exhale. But nothing so overt comes despite the impression he has of it. Instead it's a soothing diligence that pores over the details of his mask — his attention to where it lays, how it fits. Once it's on, the welling dread subsides, faint enough to swallow back. His concern in the face of wrongness has been diluted by time.

But it seemed more important to let him, in the end. ]

It seems so. Thank you.

[ And, taking his words into account even if his attention was more on his motions, Subaru lowers his head in consideration again. It rifts their gazes, but the sensation of it stays. His question circles, tediousness versus understanding... ]

Were you planning on assessing that risk by yourself?

[roedeer]

[ at first, no. there were a group of them, people he could trust, and felt just as guilty for leaving someone behind. now, it's just him, alone, but it's not like this wasn't his life at the very beginning. he just didn't expect it would double back during such a sensitive time. ]

Yes.

[ there's no one else to do it, it's just him now, and as long as he can keep his beating heart still then it should be fine.

that polite smile of his creeps back onto his face, relieved by seeing the other isn't going to remove his mask anymore. it's something to be happy about, the less risks, the better for them. ]

It's my job.

[ explaining the sort of darkness he entered to wind up here calls for massive caution, one wrong move and that could be it for him. he says one wrong thing, and he could put this person in danger or ideas into his head that he may regret. what soleum finds curious about this darkness is that it doesn't add up to the one they should've been entering at first. though, that's what makes it such a high-ranking darkness. there's no way to make sense of it.

the why has him at a loss.

something turns in his stomach, a creeping worry that he might know what's coming next as they speak. this unknown individual has some sense of self-preservation, right? ]

I'm guessing you have wise words to pass along when you ask that?

[sacral]

No, none. [ Wisdom. But also self-preservation. ] It was just my curiosity.

[ Because even if he understands this is a dream, One's dream, a place that the entity known as Sleep makes a prison and a playground of, the nature of dreams is smoky and tenuous at best. There's nothing to delineate between the precognitive will of something that stations itself as a god and the nature of Darkness as he describes it if he believes that's where he is. There's no reliable knowledge for how they, any of them, interact with these planes they call dreams. Especially those not of their own making.

Subaru folds his arms over one another, fingertips lightly holding to either elbow. ]

...but if you want my perspective, [ he continues, leaving his mask right where it is this time. ] in my line of work, threats that can't be easily perceived have to be drawn out. If you know the right words to translate its existence into reality, you can expose it and better deal with it.

[ Thoughtfully, his fingers drum against his sleeves, as if they itch to hold something. ]

It is dangerous, sometimes. [ He admits, knowing how it looks. ] So I usually work alone.

[ If it can be helped in matters of painting a target on his own back. ]

[roedeer]

[ ever so briefly, the man's attention flickers like a flame at those words, what he thought would be wise words and well wishes is something more informing. he cannot ignore a simple phrase that stands out ever so familiar. there's like a ring to it, it draws him in, and he reviews what was said in his mind.

"you can expose it and better deal with it."

think, think. why would it sound so familiar, where has he heard that line of thinking?

he remembers why it's so familiar, and it's within seconds that a small, sheepish smile takes place. ]

I wouldn't be familiar with such things... my work doesn't extend that far.

[ but he does know whose work does. that sort of method is actually... the sort of stuff soleum likes to see, the concept of exorcising and doing away with evil entities. he's only seen it a few times since interesting this wiki-styled world, but that manual which spoke of exorcising and banishing supernatural phenomena, the act of purification to reduce a centipede dwelling underneath a rural village to ash.

isn't that exciting!? he does something like that too, that's... too cool?? what are the chances for him to say this now, and he even explains it so casually. and soleum closes his eyes to calm himself down. no matter how much he holds an interest in that sort of activity, how certain people who fit the criteria of disposing evil in the purest form possible is standing right before him now. he can't fanboy at this moment!

remain simple, normal, casual. ]

You could think of me as a surveyor. I investigate mostly, look into it and such. But...

[ in his line of work, surveying a darkness means to make it a resource that his company can profit off of by farming what's inside. once they've gained enough, they'll cast it to the side until it can regrow it's strength, and when it does, they rinse and repeat.

this time, soleum hasn't come to do that as his goal has changed to searching for answers and a certain person. it could be okay to ask this next question, it'll be fine, right? ]

It does sound like it would be good knowledge to have? By understanding the conditions for entry, we may be able to find out how to exit as well. Um, that is, if you're interested.

[ he can't be too imposing. this all started with a horse... ]

[sacral]

[ That horse still looms on the peripherals, though it's learned a little patience by Subaru's hand, if its watchful but now quiet demeanor is anything to go by...

But that seems true of his current company now, too. ]

Hm? [ His expression shifts, his regard turning over into pleasant curiosity. ] A surveyor... is that right?

[ It does still sound dangerous. Looking at what he's been able to learn so far... his expression sets, soft behind the divine glaring of his mask. Subaru has to assume that anyone who's able to assess risk in an instance known as a Darkness has some sort of abilities that might set him apart from others who simply find themselves at its mercy. Even if just a job, it seems an extraordinary one, and that fact resonates in all the strange corners of his heart. Though it seems he feels a little better now, his earlier ruminations and urging for Subaru to continue on alone come into sudden clarity. ]

I practice onmyoudo. Or I did, before here. Right now, I'm relearning some approximation of it. It has several elements to it, but foremost, you can think of me as something like a diviner or exorcist. If that'll be of any use to you, I can help.

[ Because even knowing this is a dream, testing its every corner for weakness or singularities in which something is different or changed, is that not in his wheelhouse? And besides...

He remembers that terminology. Exit and entry points. Agent Choi said something similar, once. ]

It's just, [ Subaru raises a palm, the pads of his first few fingers rubbing against his thumb. His skin has greyed as if stained in expensive ink, though it looks several shades scrubbed off at this point. ] ever since the cathedral, my spells aren't working quite right.

[ Which may be a starting point in and of itself. ]

[roedeer]

[ self-regulation is key. drawing back his own excitement and curiosity to remain both calm and professional has worked yet again. he has to reign in that part of himself, no matter if there's someone who panders to his interest, he can't allow that appearance he's curated to fall like that! he's talking, get it together soleum, say something! ]

...Yes.

[ no crack in his voice, luckily, but the delivery reminds him of chief lizard that he's just a little embarrassed. what matters is that he did answer the question asked of him, because yes, he's a surveyor to a certain degree. his reason of being here is a little different from his main job, but it's still the same, he's searching and reporting back with information.

there's even a name to what he does, and if soleum isn't familiar to an extent that crimson eyes latch onto him, absorbed in his explanation or confession? his gaze falls to the pads of his fingers as he examines the stains that have been rubbed off but shows no signs of leaving. he's unsure if he should touch the locations himself or accept what he's being shown, but soleum nods.

for his skills to be affected, soleum wonders if it's because something is wrong with the environment. onmyoudo... is that very different from the shamanic practices the bureau makes use of? if it were him writing the log, something like a broken ley line or a corrupted magical pathway would explain it, but he shouldn't jump to conclusions. no matter what the case though. ]

Your skills and experience would give us a great advantage.

[ and that is a starting point. his time in the cathedral was a short one, but he's also not spiritually attuned. he came here as a daydream employee, not a bureau agent, and doesn't have any of the equipment that would help him on this front. with the other able to give him at least that, it's not something soleum can ignore. ]

What happens when you try to use a spell? It's strange that this place would affect even that...

[ a cathedral has a role that it plays, and whether this is to amplify or take from those who spend time in it or nearby begs to be investigated. ]

[sacral]

It turns to dust. Here.

[ Unfolding his arms, he turns one of his palms upwards. He inscribes a word onto his skin with his opposite forefinger — 『鳥』 — and it does trace in faint, visible lines. So the magic is there, but deadened as if in suppression by some other force. When Subaru parts his lips to invoke it, to translate the written into spoken and call his creation into being, his breath plumes dry and cloudy. His throat momentarily frosts with admonishment, the chill of it ringing in the nerves of his teeth.

Behind him, the mare swings its head up, scarlet eyes flaring in interest. It's not the only one; on the garden's pale horizon, other dots of red are looking.

Clearing his throat, he lowers his hand and offers it to the other man. The inscription remains but appears lifeless. ]

It began in the cathedral.

[ Lifting his head to study his eyes through the deer mask, Subaru ventures: ]

Should we go back and see if that's the origin?

[roedeer]

[ like a spell right before his very own eyes, muted, restrained by an outside force that won't let it flow. that's not right, the laws of this darkness, no no, the cathedral stands in the way of it working appropriately. it comes like dust blown off an item long since used, worn and weary that crumbles under his touch when the other speaks.

soleum's lips purse in a straight line that's visible underneath his mask, and he turns his head with his own two dots of red looking out to the... one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight— there's so many looking at them, no, they're looking at the person in front of him. it's enough to send a shiver down his spine, but he keeps his ground without showing any signs of fear.

what's going on, do they want this guy? we have to get to the cathedral, we have to go!! we can't stay here!

a panic in soleum's mind.

the creatures are spread throughout the field no longer attentive to what they were doing before, instead mesmerized by the man with him. soleum grabs his hand (he's choosing the escape route than identifying the irregularities he's seen) and guides him one step in the direction of the cathedral— the wave of red eyes follow, and they move by one step. ]

Ha. Is this common with the wildlife?

[ the earlier one was persistent, and soleum hadn't used any powers to draw attention like that. if the horses want his companion now, then soleum has ways to... avoid this. ]

[sacral]

[ Sensitivities alight, Subaru wonders... does he feel the faint fissure and buzz of dread? Or is he just imagining it?

Hand in hand, the inky ribbon of his spellcasting fading to near nothingness, Subaru half-smiles anyway. One step becomes two becomes four as the shadow herd stalks their path back to the cathedral. Dreams have a way of looping their recollections, and on the horizon, they look nearly like the wave that comes to claim all who hear her promise. Quiet as a whisper, alert, focused. But also somehow unnerving in their lack of aggression, as if they're aware that they wield the tension of not knowing. ]

I'm afraid not. But I've never seen this particular wildlife before here, so...

[ Squeezing his fingers, Subaru pushes Soleum forward a little ways in front of him. Let him follow up; let him be the closer one to the mares. ]

This reaction seems like a warning, doesn't it?

[roedeer]

[ one was more than enough, an entire herd is a different issue placed before them. their eyes never let up, the intensity of their stares grow stronger as the two move along. it's the light squeeze and the encouraging push forward that becomes a red flag in soleum's mind.

why would he do that? why do that at all? he can't do that because when the situation calls for it...

soleum pulls his company forward, but not to take his place, instead, it's to place them side by side. splitting the attention, matching the same pace, and preventing any consequences going unshared... two is better than one. ]

Unique wildlife are common, but it's my first time seeing them like this.

[ it's hard to tell if the horses are moving about on their own when a strong gust rolls by, and the bodies of the herd scatter like dust. they return, some in the same place, others a little closer, but those red eyes remain. ]

If it is a warning, [ he turns his head in direction of the other, and he's ignoring that uncomfortable sensation in his stomach in favor of keeping the man safe. a light squeeze, replicating the same gesture from before. ] we'll handle it together.

[sacral]

[ Ah. He saw right through him and his tactics. Not to be outdone, is he?

Most people just tend to let Subaru do whatever he wishes without much pushback. That's what it meant to him, to protect spiritually the living from the transgressions of the dead or the dreaming. He was always the first and last line of defense against the things that stoke anxieties in humans, that come crawling up out of the dark. Resistance to that instinct tempers him; Subaru's pliant as they come shoulder to shoulder, pressing back down along the garden's pathway. ]

...alright.

[ He'll stay by him. Watched, brushing beneath the pale tree branches, through the damp flowerbeds... ]

If it is a warning, [ he repeats ] like I suspect, it doesn't seem to be a violent one. They aren't ghosts... or malignant spirits. At least not that I can sense.

[roedeer]

[ it would be against soleum's nature if he used someone as a scapegoat. he's familiar with the tactic all too well. daydream inc. would love for that to be utilized so the researchers have something to look into when people die. soleum doesn't agree that it's the proper choice to make in any darkness, especially the one he believes this to be, and so he wouldn't subject anyone... even those who are contaminated.

he doesn't dare look towards the herd, his eyes completely locked onto the cathedral coming into view. the sound of leaves blowing in the tree's limbs, the wet squelch of mud underneath their footsteps muffle the ominous sounds coming from their onlookers. ]

Their attention came from you using your abilities, so they must not want you to.

[ could be from the drawback, how much does the man suffer from using them. ]

If we assume it's a warning, we should keep your limits in mind.

[ he has to keep everything under control, if he does that, then they'll get somewhere without any consequences. no mistakes can be made now, especially when they have so many eyes on them, and he wouldn't be surprised when they go inside if the herd remains wary of their actions. ]

I'll take care of you.

[ as they come to the mouth of the cathedral, he stands still for a brief moment to compose himself, and his eyes wander around to make sure there's nothing out of the ordinary. it's a cover to show his calm demeanor is still in tact before encouraging the other to step inside with him. ]

[sacral]

[ They're not words he hears often. His fingers tick softly in Soleum's grasp. Part of him finds that reluctance wells in the bottommost floors of his soul, knowing exactly where this dream lets out to. When he closes his eyes here and opens them where his body lays dreaming, it'll be upon a world already consumed with rot and ruin. ]

You shouldn't.

[ — softer than the stillness of his hand, said aloud but lacking force.

This whole place rejects it as a concept. It cannot be coerced or impressed upon... but perhaps this man is much the same.

In stepping through the arched doorway, back into the cathedral's steepled, stone ribcage where it breathes with its strange divinity, he thinks there's no harm in taking a second look. Water still patters, slithering and wet as it drains across the marble in shining sheets. Above, light dances. The sea still shifts there in its infinite glass layers... but they cannot go back up any longer. They can only remain here or choose to progress further by their host's mercurial whims. ]

I didn't stay here long when I arrived. [ He admits. He's a Token, so light already gathers around him in constellate shapes, refracting off skin. ] What stands out to you?

[ In these mirrors? ]

[roedeer]

[ he wants to ask what he shouldn't do. assume or take care of him while they're here, but the subtle twitch of his fingers tilts the scales on the answer. soleum's eyes sharpen behind the mask as he looks to the side investigating their surroundings. he knows that he shouldn't do a lot of things, but has that ever stopped him? he has to do what he can, he has to, if he doesn't then he'd be resigning to his fate. this is not his life. the faint drip of water from above, the clear glass with spiderwebs for cracks knitted into the surface that could tear at any moment keeps him moving. it's best not to be underneath, and even when they are, soleum's steps quicken. ]

It's an interesting place.

[ let him confirm this first, but if he's learned enough about this place is that those who have already been within this darkness have a relationship with it.

once the light dances along the man's skin, constellations following a breathing-like effect: they come in, they go out all coordinated underneath the rays filtering from the windows. soleum tugs his company on beat of the waterdrops, a smooth transition that gracefully brings the other into the darkness with him, and closer to him as well. all to remove him from the light. it appears soleum has done this many, many times with how easy it is to do.

that's lessons learned. when lights would flash on him, and the audience would cheer...

...

subaru will feel a flat surface against his back, a mirror that casts their reflections, and it's only soleum who can see. this close, he can see their difference in size, and soleum lifts his gaze to the mirror behind the other. his time here has never proved fruitful for anyone he was with, and he's grateful this time to only see himself face to face with his company seemingly normal. ]

A basic answer would be our reflections. Since you're spiritually inclined... are you able to see more in them?

[ past transgressions? the horror that apparently struck here that resulted in death? is he able to see those final moments? something entirely different? he knows not to take advantage of what the man can do due to the warning, and he won't, but soleum's ... "human", and even through his eyes, he can see

himself.

himself who looks back, himself who keeps a wide, chilling smile on his face, and himself who lifts his hands to suggest a game.

closing his eyes, soleum can feel his blood run cold, a sort of sickness pooling into his stomach, and with a practiced smile if anything: ]

It'd be too convenient to take a piece with us where you can use your powers.

[ a small step back to give the other some space, he's a little apologetic as he finally releases the man's hand. ]

[sacral]

[ His body doesn't protest the chill of the glass through the back of his vestments. His light dims, like stars under a city's pollution, but doesn't fade entirely. Magic favors him, even under the cathedral's threat. Briefly, his eyes cast low to adjust to the position, and when they rise again he's met with the height of Soleum's throat, the strain in the hollow of it, the breath he holds when he sees something that Subaru doesn't. But he senses it in the animal knot of tension that takes hold of him. Even when released, he remains there, contemplative. If he has a problem with not being able to see his reflection in kind, he's not making it known.

The mirror runs cold. But so does this person opposite of him, a war of wills running fast in his veins. What is he holding back, he wonders...? ]

We can try, [ Subaru offers, finally lifting one of his hands. ] but there's no guaranteeing a shard will manifest on waking.

[ Or is it escaping? From this dream, this darkness... maybe they're still one and the same phenomenon. Soberly, he continues: ]

Our host has never treated those who take from her kindly. But these mirrors are already enchanted to reflect something that your mind might wish for.

[ Bridging the small gap between them with an outstretched hand, Subaru touches the pads of his index and middle fingers to Soleum's chin. ]

I'm not you, so I can't see what you see. But I can tell you what happened here, if you want to know.

[roedeer]

[ if that's true, then his mind is soiled by his fears and worries by bringing them to life to ensure he doesn't stop moving. when he thinks like that, then manipulating what he sees will be easier, but now a certain something is on his mind. it's what he wishes for, how many times has he wished only to come up short? his underlying fear shifts from concern to a brief, small wave of disappointment only for it to disappear once he exhales. the touch on his chin doesn't go ignored, rather, it's a reaction that ignites warning signs in his head. the cold of this building to the warmth of his touch, and soleum's eyes lower to check and see what it is that he's doing. he wants to say isn't this a little too much, but here he is having the other pinned against the wall, maybe soleum is the problem here! holding a hand is one thing, having them in this position is another (he realizes that the flickering lights never really fade), but isn't this third secret thing like what you see out of a romcom?

he must notice something's off, or that's what soleum can figure from his comment. perceptive, he thinks. even when they were outside of the cathedral and subaru wanted to place himself between soleum and the herd; he somehow manages to guide his attention from the problem down to him. a skill, a character trait, maybe... he needs to get out of this darkness. ]

We can both hold onto one to see what we manage. If you're able to obtain a shard, then it's good information for the future. I've come from the outside willingly, and since this is an important location, a piece will help reinforcements locate this place if I'm unable to find an exit by the time I leave.

[ it's an idea, but he's hoping he can work out something here. his method of escape works, but if he allows anyone else to follow suit, he's not sure what could happen or where the other will end up. it's not like his body will be resting in the therapy room with them. if anything, he wants to avoid outcomes that he can't follow up with.

a step back, the warmth of fingertips disappear, and soleum nods. ]

Any information to understand this place is welcomed, it may also give us a direction to take.

[ the mirrors could be a front, and if their host is upset with their digging then they best not get caught. ]