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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Comments

wildcard, lmk if i should adjust!!

[roedeer]

[ the cold sticks to his clothes, a sharp, black suit in a pair of black business pants, and water drips from the antlers of his deer-like mask. drip, drip, drip. it doesn't hit against concrete, the shallow sound comes from them hitting against the face of the person soleum had the misfortune of sharing an inevitable fate with. his hands pressed at the both sides of the man's head, one lowers to settle on top of his chest to check if the man is breathing, and once he can confirm that with his body raising up and down underneath his touch, soleum will go out of his way to push himself onto his side, a hand comes to his throat to try and cough up what water rests in his throat.

it comes out as a mix of it and saliva, some foreign substance that might have been inside of the monster is spat up too. unidentifiable to kim soleum as he pushes it away from himself, he's slightly nauseated from the sight, and then he wetly falls onto his back to stare up at the broken sea above them. it never comes down to fall upon their bodies, but it remains suspended in place like a starry sky, glittering above them. the last thing he remembers is the weight of impending doom, everything black, and this is where they've ended up at.

upon his entry to this darkness, this is the first time things... changed. normally they'd start at a forest where noose would hang searching for their next victim, he would guide them to the train and they'd be on their way. to wind up in an unfamiliar sea and find himself lodged into the belly of some beast, it really is the bad end of video game, or the side quest written in stories to play as a filler.

soleum coughs again, clearing his throat as he starts to close his eyes in thought and allows his mind to think freely. if he were eaten, that means... he's going to die here, and if he dies here, then he's failed the mission. if he fails the mission, does that mean he'll never be able to go home? the thought frightens him more than it should, and to push those fears at the back of his mind will soleum punch himself right in his stomach.

it's done a little too roughly that he curls into the fetal position onto his side to cough a few more times.

"just keep yourself together..."

is what he tells himself. ]

it's perfect thank you <3

[schietto]

[ while Soleum's busy with his coughing fit and in that fetal position, a gloved hand will come to his shoulder, Dante moving to lean over him.

He's already pulled off his own mask at this point to try and see better as it's an eyeless design (of some ambiguous style I haven't really settled on let your imagination carry freely) as well as not make him feel any more starved of oxygen and desperate for it after their underwater adventure. His other hand will soon after come supportively to Soleum's back, patting there with just enough force to see if it can help him clear water and anything else from his lungs easier without being an excessive force that might inadvertantly increase any potential panic from the body's fight or flight response.

Dante himself is soaked, but he seems to be overall faring better than his companion somehow (which truthfully... is only because he has no sense of the weight of potential implications resulting from what happened since in his world dreams are just stuff your head does to you while you're trying to sleep. sometimes being actually dumb about the real situation can be beneficial in some way!)

Dante's voice is calm despite everything when he speaks, steady even as he'll grip the other man's shoulder a bit tighter in an attempt of silent reassurance in case that is also needed. ]

Are you all right?

[ Seems like a dumb question, actually, especially considering they technically (—kinda? does it count if you dream about it... no right—) got eaten by a shark just now, but... eh. one step at a time.) ]

i should be thanking you <3 lets get into this direct

[roedeer]

[ the fluids of a sea creature in his mouth tastes horrible, but to have a helping hand rid him of what's left does... come in handy! fortunately so, one hand comes up to the one on his shoulder, and soleum gives a simple light pat to reassure him in his own way. simple, distant, and still concerned of his safety too, as well as to make sure it's his company's hand and not something spooky that's lives down here.

ah, his mind is working too fast for things like this. he exhales, his breath shakes, and despite it all, he carries a small smile as he turns to face the other who has rid himself of his mask. soleum locks eyes with him, and it's easier to do this when one of them isn't wearing a mask, so his set of cool blue holds soleum's attention. whether it's good or bad is yet to be known until horror strikes deep inside of soleum's chest, and one hand reaches for the man's mask, and much like the rules soleum stands by: ]

I'm fine, but... please keep this on.

[ if this is that darkness, it's no good to be careless with his appearance as they don't have enough information on it. there are supernatural entities here that haven't fully been identified, and what are the chances of them having sway once their masks are off? a moment of weakness in his fetal position is long gone now and replaced with a measured tone, a little hoarse from the water he's coughed up. ]

I'm not sure what dangers lurk here, and it's best to remain alert.

[ that ever growing paranoia is normal, especially in a place he doesn't understand. ]

[schietto]

[ Dante lets the air slowly from his lungs at it appearing the other is doing relatively all right now.

Good. No harm done, for the most part, then. Probably?

While he does have the itchy and unexplainable need to redon his mask (meaning it's very easy to have him comply without him insisting on a through explanation for such a request first,) the mafia leader still can't help but be openly perplexed about doing so. He's also already assuming, by such a suggestion being made, that his companion is something of an expert of what this dream architecture is meant to be or represent. ]

All right. Are these masks some kind of protection here? I'm unfamiliar with the established protocol.

[ Getting to his feet now with his mask back in place, he'll take a look around from where he stands before noticing his fedora waterlogged on the floor not far from them. (...Oh. He didn't even know he had it while they were underwater.) Moving over, he'll put the hat back in place on his head once he's picked it up after... wringing it out like a sad rag as gently and not!awkwardly as one can do this kind of thing to such an expensive custom accessory. He'll also take this time to proceed to pull off his scarf and wring that out, too, followed by his trench coat that's added a lovely ton of weight to him he doesn't care for (sleeves first... then sections rather than trying to do it as one piece of fabric like a towel... 'tch, how useless of him.) for what it's worth, despite not making a fuss of it, he kind of is hilariously awkward if someone has the luxury of paying attention to what's he doing and how since he's never had to do this kind of thing ever. Not because he's never been interested in a body of water fully clothed before but rather he's never done laundry or anything close to it in his entire life. #generationalrichboyproblems.)

He does continue to scan their surroundings as he works, ultimately coming to stare at the colored glass above, observing with a noncommittal expression rather than any kind of wariness or suspicion. ]

...Those are the type of stained glass window art usually used in churches and cathedrals. [ as in they are specifically religious in nature and design rather than merely light catchers made by artisans using the technique of stained glass for its artistic aesthetic alone.

His tone makes it very clear he's using the casual mention in place of asking a more direct question: why are there specifically churchlike stained glass features as part of the belly of a shark, again? This keeps getting weirder.

( ...Hello, did he eat something bad or get drugged to have his mind coming up with such nonsense? Maybe he really is working too hard as he is often told? Incredible. All very embarrassing scenarios to be the victim of. Good thing no one else can judge him for such an abomination happening in his own headspace.) ]

[roedeer]

In any supernatural phenomenon, it's best to hide your face. It's not unfamiliar for a Darkness to take advantage of those with good looks to use against others.

[ he carries on: ]

You should also be mindful and not say your name too, an identity is a very powerful part of you.

[ what his companion may feel when his mask off is a creeping pain spreading throughout his face. it'll shift into a brewing headache that'll only grow as long as he keeps it off. something urges them to keep their masks on, a higher power or something else with control. soleum wouldn't know due to his own work rules, a mask has to be worn when inside of a darkness as per daydream inc.

unlike his company, soleum raises to his feet, but he forgoes wringing out his clothes to study their surroundings. the slap of water hits the ground as they dry themselves off, which encourages soleum to hit his foot down. he does this to get an idea of how tough the innards of a shark is, and is surprised by how hard the ground is. he would have expected their steps to sink into the flesh, or the ground to be unstable and bile to rise as they irritate it. however, there's nothing like that. upon the walls, grass and vines have run wild by circling the the cylinders that hold the ceiling.

his attention turns to the stained glass once brought up, and curiously, soleum walks over to close the distance between it and him. through the cracks of the glass, light floods in narrowly avoiding him from where he stands. should light be able to come into a cathedral when inside the belly of a beast? a darkness never makes sense. ]

The shark could be a sort of God?

[ or a creature that is worshipped by someone, because why else would there be a cathedral inside of it like this? it's been poorly taken care of by the looks of everything. ]

Or linked to one. [ without any hesitation, soleum undoes his own mask to drag his thumb against the inside. water drips onto the ground, a minor pain drifts underneath his skin, and before it can completely encase his entire skull; he notices something move out the corner of his eye. quickly, he pushes his mask back on to turn his head in the opposite direction of the stained glass where mirrors act like walls, and his own reflection stares back at him.

his stomach turns, but his voice remains calm to keep a steady contrast against his true feelings. ]

Did you see that?

[ maybe he wasn't the only one, but isn't that what light does... play against the shadows by making them move? ]

[schietto]

[ Dante's head just ever so slowly tilts towards the other now, but his expression is obscured by the mask. What his brain preemptively concluded the entire sentence context would be versus what he heard actually come out of his mouth is akin to a guitar string snapping mid-strum.

Surely he just have heard that wrong? Why did he hear it like that, though? It's unlike Dante's mind to think of things like that, so why would someone in his dream say it in such a way of that versus something such as without the mask you might get possessed...?

(Well... then again, this situation is at least overall somewhat like quest adventures in high fantasy stories, even though the details are all out of place, so maybe this is just another variant of that.

All right, no reason to overthink it, then.)

Listening to his companion using him as his sounding board of sorts, Dante starts to walk some, studying the details of the cathedral a little more. ]

...This is the interior of a specific Roman Catholic church that resides in America. It's condition is poor here despite being quite new in reality... but it is nevertheless undeniably the same cathedral.

[ he's never been to it, but he has many pictures of it and once longed to go see it with his father one day. he has no knowledge of any cults that would want to use an actual cathedral and worship a shark in it. It doesn't make much sense to him, but maybe this is a strang detective style investigation the other does normal and the information will be helpful.

At the sudden change in their conversation, Dante is silent for a brief moment as he turns to face the same direction as their reflections. He sees more than something, but he's hesitant to speak impulsively and cause unnecessary anxiousness. ]

What did you see?

[roedeer]

[ focus on the information given and try to make sense of that, not the unknown terrors that dance out the corner of his eye. soleum stands in place, one hand pressed against his stomach as he takes a deep breath. the air in this location reeks, the death and decay isn't overwhelming, but compared to where they were laying before and what they're dwelling inside now; shouldn't it be more pungent? is it because they haven't moved any further?

it doesn't add up.

had they passed the requirement given to them, would they have ended up somewhere else? maybe the same place, in a cathedral that had been taken care of properly? like a reflection of this location that's worn and suffering. would they have been greeted by individuals who actually take care of a place like this? ]

I thought someone ran by.

[ it's fine to say this, there were no footsteps, and his company would have seen it if that were the case... right? his mind may as well just be playing tricks on him, but he remains standing in the direction of the other, so soleum's unable to see what his put-together, blue-eyed associate is seeing himself. ]

If you say that this resembles those, then it is really a place of worship... the question is, what were they worshipping?

[ yep, that's great... not really! depending on their interest, it could be anything... like malicious spirits that hadn't moved on are the worst, they usually toy with the living just because they're alive and should be dead like them. they're drenched in resentment, they cannot stand the idea of humans living happily, and he's hoping that's not the case of what had been playing with him.

"relax, relax... this is nothing, you've handled a situation like this before." ]

Or sacrificing... I wouldn't be surprised if there's lingering spirits.

[ if the shark is playing "god" and has consumed them plus others, wouldn't there be more traces of death here? bones, even markings left behind by humans, notes, anything that they can use to find what life used to be here and what they did and didn't do? ]

[schietto]

...No one else is here with us right now.

[ His response is confident, but said with an edge that seeks to assure rather than to correct or dismiss the answer he was given.

From what Dante saw in the waters before, he has taken notice that he sees 'something' on things that he supposes are perhaps important to the dream and move location. It reminds him of what he as a child tried to picture when being taught the concept of the Spirit and Soul. In the water, even the monstrous shark had a marker to it, and what he thought maybe were others like his current companion. All he sees are the strange markers on the person with him.

He does look at the mirrored reflections but currently he can't see anything, so he will move to step closer, passing by the other man if he has to in order to get a better look as his eyes follow the water rushing up along the walls in an alienlike feat that is as progressing to him as it is wonderous. Although this place feels like they shouldn't be here, Dante is a man that has found comfort within the walls of a church in silent waiting, always open even when no one is there for any lost soul to enter. It's obviously not a safe space, but it's familiarity in its strangeness is comforting enough to have him recognize that he should be taking a lead here. Dream that's all in his own head or not, he has a duty as the boss of the Falzone family. A duty is a duty, afterall.

And it would make him even more unworthy of the task if he couldn't even manage to do anything else in his own mind but let them spiral in confusion and tricks to the senses. ]

The Roman Catholic Missa is a solemn liturgy where the Eucharist is celebrated. Unleavened bread and wine are consecrated. Worship is belief, community union, and prayer. It is entirely peaceful.

[ His eyes catch sight of a few pink flower petals scattered about now. He gestures towards them. ]

... Those, however, are not normally part of the Mass. Flowers must be strictly tended to and respected in this sacred space. There are times pink flowers, in particular, are not allowed at all.

They might have something to do with whatever has taken over this place.

[ while he's certain the church normally wouldn't be doing any ritual sacrifice here, they did just wind up in here after being eaten by a massive shark. So, it's... clearly not a normal scenario.

The flower petal, too, has a faint marker that is so weak compared to the others he's seen that it might as well not be there ... but it is noticeable in the absence of everything else. ]

[roedeer]

I see.

[ and it lingers off the end of his assessment, words unsaid that go: and how do you know that? with a raise of his brow, soleum nods, accepting this as truth despite the concern he has in his mind. when his companion says it like that, it comes off so creepy when drenched with confidence. that's something he notes and files for later, and his attention returns to the church. ]

You sound knowledgeable when it comes to this.

[ almost like a guide that knows the proper way to worship a higher power. there's a discrepancy mentioned, one that could be why everything went wrong here. with how worn the cathedral looks, the only signs of life happens to be the ever growing flora around them to offer some color with the stained glass. ]

Are you familiar with ghost stories? Religious themes are common... This could be a part of the one we're unfortunately in.

[ soleum follows after his companion, almost side by side, to get a good look at the flowers scattered about. it's strange how healthy they are, one would believe they'd have dried up, but would the moisture in the belly of a shark really keep them alive? kneeling down, soleum reaches out with bare hands to pick up a few of them. he knows the consequences of engaging in things that he doesn't understand, but this is part of his job, and his thumb drags against a petal to check its softness. still there. ]

The mass and church itself may be peaceful, but that's why harmful spirits want to deface it. Especially if a group didn't follow the rules correctly, and from what you said... the flowers stand out.

[ kim soleum isn't much of a religious man, even he had his reservations when cults were written into his favorite series, overpowering the other concepts. excuses to control the setting rather than appreciate it's well-thought out scenarios, ones besmirched by annoying children. it's like art, and the forced cults are the tomato to tarnish the work.

his hands drops the few petals back to where they were. if he could understand what sort of flowers these were, then maybe in his own wealth of knowledge that he could make sense of why they'd be here. ]

That color can symbolize marriage in this sort of setting.

[ and he stands up properly, his crimson eyes meets the cool blue of the other's own, no different from the setting sun touching the edge of the sea. with an exhale, the daydream employee continues: ]

We should check around the altar and chapel to see if there's any information on what was celebrated. There may be hints you'd be able to spot.

[ he takes a step forward, stopping for a moment and will only move until he hears footsteps come with him side by side. ]

[schietto]

My family is very religious, they have been devoted to the Church for generations. These things were part of my daily studies as any other subject.

[ Dante nods, at the question about ghost stories. ]

I am not as familiar with ghost stories, but supernatural entities and horrors are well alive both in the religious texts and the streets of Burlone.

...Although, I will be honest. I have never encountered a ghost, spirit, or demon of any kind. And I have never witnessed a religious miracle with my own eyes.

[ Unless that shark that ate them counts as one of the listed above now, anyhow. Even if so, Dante isn't exactly feeling particularly awed by it so much as annoyed. Sharks belong in the ocean or on his food plate, thank you. It's fair sharks can eat people if people can eat sharks, of course, but... ]

...this is most likely a replication of St. Patrick's Cathedral. I say this because that means it's also the seat of the Archbishop of New York. [ he supposes if it's some cursed evil seeking to ruin and harm, the fact this is not just a bishop's cathedral but the archbishop's for its area specifically may matter? Unfortunately being religious in 1920s Italy where he's from lacks the flair of anything other than humans being humans about religion.

Dante will follow without hesitation to walk alongside him..

( And, if they happen to walk under the light of one of the stained glass windows and Soleum catches his own reflection anywhere he is going to see a very cute baby deer with antlers that look suspiciously like the ones his mask has instead of himself looking back at him, no big deal. We all deal with trauma in our ways, all right...) ]

[roedeer]

[ soleum retains that information, another religious individual means what exactly? another bout of mayhem lingering in the earth, or for what he hopes is something more controlled that he can handle. as his company mentions these small details, that doesn't mean it's similar to that cult. he's spent too much time involved in the highs and lows to the church of the luminous unknown that it's starting to bleed into more normal concepts that he knowns outside of this. these churches also exist in his world, and that makes it easier for him to digest.

failing the first part and winding up in another place with someone familiar is too convenient. he can't help but worry some, racking his brain to find a hint of whether this is good or bad, and it doesn't feel like too long ago when he was under the imposing gaze of a "god".

he shouldn't get into his own head about it. remain calm, engage in the conversation without "what ifs" and "what may bes", and focus on what's ahead of him. ]

That makes you the most susceptible to a spirit's influence. Your religious background may prove useful to them, so if feel strongly about anything... Please, let me know.

[ let soleum add on that to sound less suspicious. ]

I've been in situations like this before, and I don't want anything to happen to you. If you can rely on me when it comes to that then this... [ he traces the inside of the cathedral with his eyes, probably hard to tell behind his mask. ] I can leave to you.

[ upon passing by the stained glass, soleum can feel the pinpricks of light against his skin. it doesn't hurt, it's warmer than what he'd like, but as he keeps his eyes on his company, he notices something off. kim soleum stops, and so does the animal too, staring right at him like a deer in the headlights.

strange, odd.

his attention returns to the man beside him to check if he sees that, but if he turns to look for himself, he'll find that his own reflection is... different, much like soleum's. something of his stature, and upon inspection, a white veil hangs around his head obscuring his face. if one squints, they can see an eye mask of a crane underneath keeping his face properly hidden. in his hand, he holds a lit candle that burns, but wax never rolls down the length of it. the last oddity is the body of a crane draped from the top of his head all the way down to his back, but the legs are missing. actually, they've been replaced where human legs would be on the actual person in the reflection, and there's large feathers covering at his side, long and white before tipped black at the end.

a sort of hybrid.

clearing his throat to distract them from what's in the glass, soleum inquires. ]

...The inside of the shark could be an amalgamation of places. That may be why something from New York is here?

[schietto]

[ ... the ever so faintest smile brushes across his mouth at hearing the other say he's worried about him. Although he's heard it many times by his men, this person has no idea who he is, so it's a lot easier to just take it at face value as a stranger actually worried. Sure, no one wants to be left alone in this spookiness, but it's still pretty endearing to hear come so naturally out of someone else's mouth.

Dante words are barely above a whisper, breathed out in careful acceptance. There's no reason to mistrust someone else stuck in the same position for him as of right now. Besides, perhaps some kind of true teamwork is meant to be done here. ]

Very well.

[ he does notice the mirror, but he's so confused by everything else, it barely catches his interest other than to wonder if a deer and a crane have anything to do with this wildness. ( At this point, Dante doesn't even realize that the deer is his fault.) ]

If that's the case, is each piece of a place important or not necessarily?

[roedeer]

Origins can give us a direction.

[ soleum brings a hand to his mask, pushing it some which causes him to miss that smile or any expression the man must be making at the moment. in the reflection the deer brings their ankle to their head like scratching at the area.

... there is a faint itch underneath, but ah, does it know how he's feeling? please, please, please... don't show how he feels. ]

There are aspects that matter little to the bigger picture. If the situation seems to reflect one common theme, then doesn't it feel strange if one thing doesn't follow that theme? If there's one piece off, then that's an identifier that it could be important.

[ like those horrible movies where flying sharks take over a location, how many times has soleum skipped that when watching them with braun? for a brief moment, soleum touches at the pocket of his suit where nothing is. ]

Do you know anything about those animals from a religious standpoint?

[schietto]

Both are used as symbols of purity, but I'm not aware of any deeper connection they share past that in their other symbolism...

[ the way he trails off indicates he's looking to hear the other's thoughts in case he knows a bit about it. Dante is very aware that animals hold much symbolism and in many religions. ]

[roedeer]

[ a crane-like creature that poses as a man, and a baby deer. from hearing about his religious upbringing, soleum's mind has painted a picture. from his perspective, the employee continues: ]

I've heard of that. In what I've seen, [ browsed. ] they have a connection with spiritual awareness.

[ it could have been his company being so sure there's no one with them that encouraged those thoughts. ]

Happiness, eternal youth.

[ but there's a candle, a white veil. ]

It follows your steps, do you believe you match that?

[schietto]

[ Dante is a big of a strange believer in the sense he doesn't know how much he believes in the spiritual and all that. But he nods at the spiritual awareness mention. Yes he has seen that, as well, although what that really means... he doesn't know.

At the question, though, Dante speaks plainly. ]

Happiness and eternal youth? I'm only a man the same as anyone, else, and happiness... no, I don't believe that is something I can bring to anyone, nor can I say I'm happy where my life is at current.

[ he's very pure in the sense he's a virgin he guesses? ]

[roedeer]

Hm. Eternal youth... some would say that's retaining beauty, it's... face is covered by a veil.

[ soleum doesn't look towards his company when he says this, he thinks that maybe it would be too much pressure to. he's only seen his face briefly, not enough to think a lot, but the sort of set-up the image in the reflection makes is an amalgamation of a monster. those are what soleum is familiar with. ]

It could be related to that.

[ in games, there's always that one visual appearance that stands out over and over that the owner is aware of. maybe it's something like that?

... he doesn't know what the other has been through, but those with a religious background have trouble growing up. soleum tries not to project that belief onto him, and he keeps moving like the deer in the reflection that jumps as it goes. ]

I can't say I'm happy either. We have that in common it seems.

[schietto]

[ Not exactly the best thing to have in common, Dante thinks. ]

Hm... what about the candle being held?

[ Dante is terrible at small talk, but even if he wasn't, that topic of unhappiness seems like a dangerous one of there are any entities with ill-will towards them. ]

...The deer follows you, but it doesn't seem to have any monstrous visual cues to it. If we had a third person for a reflection, perhaps we could decipher the potential indications better.

[roedeer]

[ a common theme. would their feelings have anything to do with this as to why they were chosen, or it could have stemmed from something else? the practices done within a touch does ask for those who take part to have certain feelings before prayer, faith, happiness, desire. ]

A light, guidance.

[ and who knows more about this cathedral between them, the other does. the deer could be following after the lightkeeper, but that could be wrong. he's side by side with his companion, but he is looking to him when it comes to the finer details of this place.

his suggestion doesn't sound bad at all. if they had a third person then they could see what happens with their reflection, but in this long hall covered in vines and petals leading them along... it shows no sign of anyone else. ]

A third as in three people standing here, or a separate entity taking one of our spots?

[ since it was his idea, soleum can follow his cue. ]

[schietto]

Three people I imagine is best. We might be able to see if one of us is showing an anamoly in our reflection rather than the norm, no?

[ unfortunately, there's no one else, so there's no sense dwelling on the possibilities. ]

I wonder if we can actually simply leave the cathedral if we just keep walking...

[roedeer]

[ soleum is three people, four, he's as many as he needs, but hearing they need an actual third person means to shelf his idea. even if he became "someone else", there's no telling if that deer would actually leave from his reflection. ]

That is an option.

[ the shadows of the cathedral shiver at the comment, something off about them, but maybe it's the light that they walk underneath that the shadows are afraid of. as soleum pauses underneath a stretch of shade, the deer disappears, and his reflection returns to normal.

as scared as he is, as nauseating as it is to say what he's thinking, he really couldn't leave this place if he wanted to. that completionism trait of his stands in the way, and he must know the ins and outs of this cathedral. ]

Your reflection tells me it'd be safer for you to go out.

[ because a baby deer is different, if it has any meaning at all. when he looks, he's met with his own reflection from before. the same, tall individual he is upon entry, and his attention turns to his companion. ]

Stand beside me, won't you?

[schietto]

[ Dante is silent a moment at the response , considering even as he comes to stand next to him as requested, mildly curious about if it's for a specific purpose.

Either way, as they stand there, the head of the Falzone family exhales his breath in silence before looking from around the Cathedral to the other. None of this makes sense to him, and he knows he can't really offer very much, but ... ]

I'll only leave if it's necessary. I won't be leaving you behind.

[roedeer]

...

[ even soleum doesn't know what to say. those are strong words because he's a stranger, he's just as lost and confused as him too. there's no obligation to staying, and if they do find the exit, the other should take it... why stay with soleum? what's necessary, what's unnecessary?

he points to their reflection. ]

Look.

[ underneath the shadows, their reflections have returned back to normal. holding out his hand, light dances against his fingers, and in the mirror they'll see a small hoof in the corner. ]

Roe Deer. [ he speaks before drawing back his hand. ] You can call me that, what should I call you?

[ and he probably remembers soleum's previous warning of not saying his real name. "roe deer" is a title that matches his mask, or should... match.

anyway, if they're going to see this through together, then soleum wants to offer his name. ]

[schietto]

[ Dante isn't good at these kinds of things. Coming up with false names and all that. Quietly, he considers before answering: ]

Virgil is fine.

[ It doesn't match his mask or anything, but he expects it will be unique enough and simple to remember for the other man.

( And what are they if not a clueless Virgil and Dante descending the layers of hell at this point, for all they know, anyway? ) ]

[roedeer]

[ soleum holds out both hands, one extended further than the other as he waits for the other to take it. from the gesture, it seems like soleum wants to shake his hand.

he keeps facing forward, soleum staring right at the other's face hidden behind the mask, and he remembers only some of it. now that he thinks about it, was it covered in the reflection because of his own thoughts? a crane can signify beauty in a way, so maybe... that's what that is.

is that how the reflections work? hm. ]

Thank you for accompanying me, Mr. Virgil. I'll do my best to get you out of this Darkness.

[ and through this hell, they'll go together.

deeper and deeper into the unknown, but it's not as terrifying when there's someone else tagging along. ]