JAWS • DECEMBER 2025 EVENT/TDM
TDM & EVENT: JAWS
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:
OFFERING EFFECTS
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.TOKEN EFFECTS
• 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.
• 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:
TOKEN EFFECTS
OFFERING EFFECTS
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
TOKEN EFFECTS
OFFERING EFFECTS
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.
ᛗOOC 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!
➤ 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!

theyre sooooo cute, but kamuis cuter as a cat AND human. soleum fails on human half
but instantly!?
not everyone can take to contaminations well on their first time— ah, first time? no, he shouldn't make this a habit, there's a reason he's even doing this now!
getting to his feet, soleum stretches his body, rear up with his tail bending behind him as forepaws scratch along the ground. step, step, step. soft, soft, soft. shadow and shadow. red eyes and violet eyes. the older cat beeps, small and quiet. lean. nose. touch. here.
soleum is here with him, nose against nose, replicating the same action to bring the child back, but should he? kim soleum can tell from prior actions that sadness still lingers, it sends a shudder down his spine, and the contamination that he wears only feels sorrow at the prospect. he's unable to ignore it no matter how much he tries, and that's why with his head craned downward, and their nose still touching he inquires again: ]
Want know. Favorite!
[ in this position, soleum thinks that he could sit on him, keep him in place and get an answer that way. pulling away, he opts out for biting at the flower petal that caught his attention, and brings it to the others nose to place it there. withdrawing, he lays down down right beside the feline that's on his back, side by side, so that they're touching with no distance between them.
his tail rests on the younger cat's stomach. ]
Like. That?
[ soleum wiggles his nose indicating the sakura petal, but even he's unable to tell what sort of pink flower it is. aside from soleum, the only thing he's showed interest in that didn't make him sad was... this. that moment of happiness, carefree, and not a worry at all is something to be cherished, he thinks. he's capable of letting go of his worries though that was probably thanks to the stamp, but he'll take it. curious, purring emits from his body in waves, loud and satisfying to himself as he comes to a conclusion. ]
Name you.
[ ... ]
Whiskers! Yes!
[ whiskers is a very cat name, soleum can work with this if the his cat friend can't say what he likes then soleum will just decide. ]
You can just call me Cat.
[ appended with whatever title he finds appropriate. ]
what?! i don't believe that! how could his human half fail the cute...his cat form so cute...
at the question, there's a soft follow-up purr from kamui, a flick of his tail. though he has not been a cat very long, he finds it comfortable albeit a bit odd, something adjacent to an out of body experience even though he very much isn't. softly, softly. he leans,
in.
whole cat face rubs at the small curve of "cat"'s jaw and neck: nose, nose, touch, touch, press, lean, stay. hi. hi. hi. i don't know why i want to say it so much in this moment: hello. i am here. you are here.
we are not alone.and,
well.
the name. freeing. it's new. not kamui. not kamui. not the kamui.
just whiskers.
just cat.
two soft-pawed creatures. and kamui is so bizarrely at ease in a way he hasn't been this whole time, he feels nearly drowsy, nuzzling against the other cat in a way were he human he would be mortified. but a cat's a cat. he seems deeply inclined to curl up together, two interlocking commas. he's sleepy. maybe after a nap, he could try to find --
-- !
he's still new enough even his dream mind that when kamui remembers, and leaps up, he flops right back over, staring wide violet eyes that then blink slowly as he tries to readjust. ]
Cat...Cat...can...I ...you...
[ his thoughts upend, not accustomed to their new vessel. his whiskers twitch anxiously, and a soft chittering noise comes thin and airy from his narrow throat, the faintest whine. that's right. before he was almost trapped with that stranger he could not help, before falling up through the cathedral light...he was with someone. how could he forget?
well, he didn't. but...the deep distraction...]
...must...find...
[ it trickles through as frenetic as it really is. and all underneath it, going in too many directions, no form just feeling:
i'm sorry....i'm sorry.
but who the apology is for would be hard for anyone to discern; even, especially kamui himself. to others it might 'feel' more like a wave or wall of some thicker miasma: a bad dream mixing in with the chaotic one. ]
if you think a control freak is cute... he has to be #serious and not #affectionate
things should be calm, the world should matter little, they're both the same animal so it's not like the other is alone faced with dangers he doesn't understand. soleum too doesn't know of the dangers, he's only learning everything one step at a time during his time in this darkness. if it's the one that he knows, then allowing whiskers to walk around blindly isn't ideal.
stay with me.
i can do what i can.
it's scary alone.
soleum cannot say these things aloud, these are thoughts in the cat's mind protected by the concerns that stand out to it.
it's by small gestures that he offers something like them.
a tail that lays against the stomach, i'm right here.
his body pressed against the size of whisker's, i'll keep you warm.
large red eyes watch the other to ensure they're okay, i'll keep my eyes on you.
it should be as simple as understanding, and while that is something soleum has difficulties with, as a cat... it seems easier. they should understand the same things, and the purring from whiskers should tell him that everything is alright.
his name's called, and the feline is attentive due to whisker's upcoming question, soleum's listening until— what is that feeling? like a miasma, it becomes hard to breathe and it courses through soleum's body causing the cat to jump with his fur on edge. as he comes down, soleum quickly kills the distance, a sudden worry.
did he do something wrong? is it the cathedral? should he have taken him somewhere else?
he wants to press their noses together, he knows it's something whiskers likes, but that ominous feeling stands in the way. a thick barrier that's encased the other in his own concerns, and soleum can tell because it sends a shiver down his spine. he has to react! ]
Will find! Will find!
[ soleum beeps, and he beeps over and over again thinking it'll catch whisker's attention. did he make a mistake, should he have him spit out the stamp, is it too much or would he be a danger to himself as a human? ]
[This way!]
[ please, please acknowledge him. whatever it is that's sinking its claws into him, he has to try to guide him back out of it for what he can do to help. he walks around whiskers in a circle before he stops in front of him, their noses press together roughly, and soleum licks after the small touch there. ]
[This way!]
[ even with that thick and overwhemling guilt that's holding him hostage, soleum will try to guide him back to reality. it's fine, he's here, and they'll find whatever whiskers needs.
come back to him. ]
he could still be cute...i say...completely canon blind....nodding yes
lost.
it hurts.
but something slowly rooting in kamui has responded in like to the stamp under his tongue, to soleum's presence at all, to soleum at all: to know without knowing, like me. or like enough. there is something like the loosed yarn through the labyrinth not for a devouring monster but --
-- ?
breathe.
listen.
feel.
even if it hurts; yes. because.
yes.
on a kind of delay, slow and faded and out of order: this way...this way...find...will find.
who?
warm. warm. warm. soft. this scent. ah.
breathe.
listen.
feel --
-- and return.
when large violet eyes open again, kamui's head angles and rubs so their cheeks press, returns the lick in a way that a more human kamui would be mortified by but this is just how cats are. as soleum did earlier, kamui presses against him. his body still hurts. his heart, it doesn't feel like his own. he is missing something; someone.
earlier in the depths of something he does not know: close your eyes.
but when he opened them, that person was gone.
what feels like purring is actually a full bodied tremble that does not stop. but kamui is brought back enough to himself to try his best to convey:
sorry. sorry. i'm so sorry. i'm fine. it's okay. i'm sorry.
another soft chittering noise, faint, from the narrow of kamui's throat.
he'll do better.
promise. ]
closes my eyes... hes only cute if kamui thinks he is, we need kamui stamp of approval
the person behind whiskers is suffering. the overwhelming sensation of negativity, fear, loss and confusion swallows the older cat, and he feels nauseous trying to stomach it. all those worries and concerns he can hand off to him, he'll take majority of it, because it's not like soleum hasn't felt this way before. loss, confused, fear, it's so much more, it can become so much more, but he has to keep pushing no matter what obstacles stand in his way.
this feeling the cat beside him is suffering from, that he returns to, must be a constant that helps him in the wrong ways. it roots him to reality by reminding him of his mistakes, what he needs to do, what he's lost, and it's characters written like this that the audience are meant to feel sorry for. never does soleum ask how to fix it, he walked into the boy's life blindly, and he attempts to offer aid by existing.
it's not enough. like this, it's not enough.
the cat wants to help, kim soleum too, wants to help. ]
Wrong.
[ it's not any of kim soleum's business, the backgrounds of these individuals around him are not his business. even if he thinks: this kid doesn't deserve this! ... isn't this his story he has to figure out on his own!?
...what is kim soleum to do to fix that? he doesn't need to know the extent of his pain, but he can feel it, somehow he thinks he knows too much about how the other feels. it's all stored in this small body of his and he's grown so overwhelmed that it's hard to ignore. it's none of soleum's business. it's none of his business.
no matter how many times he thinks that.
he offers aid. ]
Will find.
[ and if he cannot find. ]
You will find.
[ that sort of complex development is only right, right? the fall, the opportunity to give up, the chance to let those emotions take him then and there. then there's a guide, a small hand— or paw that nudges that character forward. the characters of this novel are getting more complicated by the second.
soleum lifts his paw, and he settles it right on whiskers' nose to draw attention to himself. ]
Promise.
[ can he really promise that, he doesn't even know what it is... that he wants, or who he wants, or whatever that could be. there's no way he could leave him to think otherwise, or lose himself anymore than he already has. he's more cat than human, if he can use this vessel as a chance to get some thoughts in order: his likes, his desires. some semblance of hope, maybe it'll carry into that human body of his. ]
Follow. Signs.
[ doesn't it sound pathetic, follow, who wants to hear that? wouldn't he want to lead? somehow, soleum thinks that maybe he's lead enough, and maybe following gives him less responsibility for once. he won't have to think if he's doing something wrong.
sometimes soleum thinks this way. ]
kamui will probably find him cute...?! (if he gets in!) he finds him cute anyway...
wanted.
with this fur still on end, kamui
follows.
the aid soleum offers is no small thing. on near to silent cat feet, on the intuitiveness of animals, on and on. the truth is kamui does not really process any of the words, even though he understands. it is as though something has warped his ability to articulate language, hearing only sounds. his vision fluctuates a bit, and once or twice he bumps into soleum in a way that's more reminiscent of when he first adjusted to this form, clumsy --
-- clumsy enough that somehow the stamp falls out from his mouth.
fortunately the space around them is plenty big enough; it was just getting through that tiny hole, cat or prayer sized only, that required such a small body. still, the shift back is startling, both body and mind outpaced by what it is not used to even in dreams. for some indeterminable time, kamui just lies there, trying to process everything with minimal success. the overwhelming nausea that surged into kim soleum before from kamui's ungoverned heart gets inverted and returned to him. he breathes. his hands spasm. he blinks.
blindly he reaches one hand to ask the black cat for his approval again, fingers bent and proffer soft, no threat, just asking. is it okay? even if i am like this?
perhaps it would be better for the cat if he simply continued on, on his own, but kamui does not have to ask to know: he won't. this being is kind. so kind it hurts. kamui wonders if he can protect him and is scared of that thought because he's never been good at that. he shivers.
to the right of kamui's head: the stamp, in strangely good condition despite being in someone's mouth for so long, and... a single pink petal. ]
kamui too has poor taste i see (manifesting them in) who does he get that from!!
kim soleum, how could you forget?
kim soleum, why did you worry when there's things of greater importance...
kim soleum, you're going to be why this person suffers a horrible fate by not thinking!
out of all things to become upset about, the older cat lowers his head as if he's made a mistake. he cannot turn human as of now, it would give away his identity, and with this form he can help those who are willing to be helped. he couldn't even do the thing that was important, soleum's pressing the top of his head on the smooth ground and drags himself forward as punishment.
that's until he notices in the corner of his vision a hand. soleum lifts his head, red eyes stare at the gesture, and the cat's ears flick. it's always a hand brought to soleum, there's this thing about the gesture that has brought him back from insanity time and time again. he wonders if it's the same, if the other needs someone to acknowledge he's there. soleum has strong feels regarding it, but he doesn't know if the other's desperation is like his own before. again, he doesn't know, and it's why he walks over and rests his own paw in that extended palm.
whiskers, whiskers. this is still that young cat who showed vulnerability, and even now it's visible in his human form. they can't wash away his feelings, the stamp, the purrs, the brushing of noses, none of that. all it can do is soften the blow just a tiny bit that something outside of what kamui knows can offer him a bit of acknowledgement, assistance, guidance, attention, whatever he thinks he needs. soleum isn't an affectionate person, he doesn't know if he's doing this right, but he takes another step closer to being himself to kamui's face.
soleum brushes their noses together with a soft purr, not long before bumping their forehead together. he sits down, curled up, right atop of the stamp and petal with folded forelegs. the gesture continues where he drags the side of his face onto kamui's, ears flicking against the forehead and when the cat stands up...
...
the stamp and petal are gone.
...
is it too soon for them to move through the cathedral, he cannot leave him here, besides he should try and get him somewhere safe. he's heard that the horses are an avenue to take, that it's a safe way, and now soleum's torn between listening to that and being against it.
he slips himself underneath the side of kamui's face, stretching himself along the curve of the boy's neck so they can rest there for now. ]
soleum is killing me im so ...(prays) clutches my heart uhh kamui ...does it to himself
but,
he breathes.
a bit easier when the cat fits himself under his face and against his neck.
still easier the longer they rest there.
somehow, kamui can feel guilt in this kind being. he doesn't want that. one trembling hand finds the side of the cat's face, then the top of his head, gently gently gently: there, there. i am grateful to you. i am sorry. please, don't blame yourself. ]
I'm so lucky...you've been so kind to me.
[ feathered breaths, because kamui's chest feels uncomfortably tight. he's not sure why. so too his voice: softer, smaller, in conflict with the shifting of his form but also his mind's tendency to hold on rather than let go. if permitted, he scritches behind the cat's ear and even nuzzles his face with his own, despite not being a cat himself anymore. perhaps long eyelashes are not equivalent to whiskers but when he blinks they do brush there, briefly. and then:
a smile, pressed to that place between the cat's eyes.
somewhere else, a kiss to make it better.
a children's spell.
but kamui only does this out of gratitude and a desire to connect, not believing for an instant anything will improve but more than that, more and more:
they must continue on regardless.
when he finally pushes himself up to sitting, again if allowed this intrusion, he will use one thin arm and hand to sort of scoop the cat into the crook of it, holding him then to his chest. he's being selfish, it's sure. but also something tells him it could be significant to keep this one close.
his heart a touch steadier, he goes to rub a fingertip under the cat's chin as he peers down at him in his arm and asks, ]
I guess you can't guide me if I carry you, hm?
[ this smile looks a bit sad but nothing to be done for it. the longer he's more coherent, the more faint pain flares in kamui's head, in his hands and his back. he's not sure why or when it started and in bad practice, ignores it. ]
i just dont think we should blame kamui for his bad taste I WONT!! ACCEPT IT!!!!
when the boy parts from him, soleum stares at the ground thinking of how he should react. how odd, he doesn't know what to do, but someone should be happy right like that's normal, but there's a part of soleum that doesn't know what's normal either. there's something wrong with him, he thinks, because why can't he pinpoint a single, proper emotion for the situation. hasn't he been through it before? back home? that growing fear in his heart due to not knowing makes soleum shake his head to get it off his mind.
looking up at the boy now, soleum offers a crackling cry with a swish of his tail to show gratefulness. let the feline side of him take over, the sound of purring comes from him, a sort of happiness that the feline understands quite well. thrilled, he meows to the other until his paws are now in the air, his body pressed against kamui's neck and soleum turns his head to look at him better.
a wet nose press against the cheek. ]
[This way!]
[ one paw lifts up and points in a direction, go straight.
he can lead like this, in a more human way, but he makes sure to outstretch his toe beans to play with his paw (he needs to give off cat, less human). nails peek out before slipping back into the black fur, and with another audible meow that's louder this time, it carries down the hall in an echo. there's shadows, there's windows, and there's the light that breaks through the glass in an attempt to swallow the hall.
the cat huffs through his nose, hissing if kamui attempts to walk through the light. it appears the creature knows how this place works, but before them will come a stretch of light down the hall that stretches about thirty feet? he thinks.
hiss.
hiss.
mrrroowwwwwwwwwwwwwwww............
soleum doesn't want the child to be under the light as he's not sure what changes he'd suffer due to soleum's way of thinking. scanning the area, nearby and before them is where he notices something that could work. a cloth on a table on the opposite side, if soleum can get that and place it over the boy's body... maybe it would make things easier. hmm... he wouldn't have to see what the reflections would hold.
but that means trying to wiggle out the other's arms. ]
no...we should definitely blame him...also soleum cracks me up! u r not an old man, sir!!! pats him!
Oh?
[ softly. echoing. swallowed whole. light as sound.
kamui blinks down at the cat whose purring has cut off into a mild hiss. a step closer to the first throw of light and another hiss. gaze shifting, kamui makes a quiet humming sound, gives a more mindful pet and rub to his head: it's alright, i understand. and he evades the light mostly without break, and moves quickly if he feels the cant of it snag on him, not avoiding the glass's reflection consciously but more-so because he is focused on holding the cat safely and moving forward without tripping or aught else. ]
Thank you,
[ warm. it hurts a bit. only because he cares.
they continue on.
it's the long stretch of light and the cat's hissing that has kamui pause again. he would have anyway, considering their already adopted strategy now coming to an impasse. the long meow makes him look down again before lifting it to follow the cat's surveying gaze. the pause on the cloth isn't lost on him. he bites his lower lip. clearly the cat does not want him going into the light. but...?
well.
he lowers his head so their foreheads (?) touch and he blinks, wondering if he can't understand more just to be sure, but not really, just watchful. trying. thinking. the sheet? cloth? thing? cover? how to say...? and in all truth? kamui...does not want to put the cat down. holding him is comforting in a way kamui did not even know he longed for, which is unsettling but also not something he can deny having experienced it.
selfish.
ah.
with a gentle nudge of his face to the cat's face, he carefully carefully crouches to the ground and sets him down. ]
Um...don't...do anything dangerous, okay?
[ unavoidable feeling silly but he can't help it. if there is even a fraction of communication open through to them still, kamui hopes it carries. still crouched as he watches, thin hands curl white knuckled on sharp knees. it seems very important that the cat return to him safely. it seems. it is.
not admitting he's scared doesn't change the fact of the fear muttering around inside him, but there's nothing to be done for it. even so, kamui is ready at no notice at all to hurry forward if need-be. he wants to be respectful and trusting of the cat's clear guidance, but not at the cat's cost, if it comes to that. ]
we've blamed kamui enough!! true hes like a teen, he wants to eat junk food and watch anime
soleum has been various things under the light, and he knows that people seen through his eyes have been bad. he reflects on each one recalling the outcome, and he believes that this is best. there was one who became vulnerable and lost himself, another who would have went blind to the truth, and one tainted by soleum's beliefs.
walking into the light, the fur of the beast sparkles from the multicolor light through the windows. he keeps his head up, tail too, to show confidence even though inside his stomach twists and turns. like this, he's sure that he's fine, as an animal... the young boy probably doesn't see him as anything else.
unless he's wrong, but soleum... guesses he will see.
black paws tap against the smooth surface of the ground, sometimes the bottom of his feet crushes a petal or two. the sharp blades of grass that's split through the floor are crushed too as soleum makes his way through. the sun rays...? are heavy, but so far, there doesn't appear to be any issues with the feline's path. or should have been, there's some of the path the breaks underneath his step, almost causing the cat to lose his footing into a hole... however, kim soleum is nimble, he is quick! he needs to be careful or he might get sick!
quickly... the cat turns around to look in the young boy's direction with his chest puffed out, and a loud meow to indicate he's fine! ]
bet. kamui can blame himself forever. but ANYWAY....cute....so cute...must scoop constantly...
Careful --!
[ the word lurches out of kamui and it's at the same time as the cat turns to look at him that kamui's half-aborted rush causes him to step solidly into the light. what the cat sees could be just kamui, or it could be informed by the first impressions, and some of those more fraught feelings before drowned and dragged down in an unskilled knot of guilt, appearing as he is but with a sense of shackles or chains. weights. light. shadow. whatever the image, it's brief, as kamui does at least step backward again, fully out of the light that felt almost like a burn along his skin, absently rubbing one trembling hand around the opposite wrist, now pushed off-center of himself.
he blinks, watching the cat while mindful of how it had wanted him to avoid being in the light. still, if there is another hole or stumble, it's more than likely kamui would rush forward to help this time, even if it wasn't needed. indeed, even as he keeps himself from moving forward again for the immediate moment, it's clear from the tension in his frame kamui is still fighting the instinct to go ahead anyway. ]
noooo kamui goes through enough i think!!! soleum is too old to be scooped... 33 years old...
disappears.
glit▓▓▓▓.
▓▓▓▓bles.
breaksdown▓▓▓▓more.
whatcould▓▓▓▓▓nolonger▓▓▓▓▓becauseit▓▓▓▓▓.
his arm is nor▓al, but his ▓▓▓▓ is subjected to a change, it's a little smal▓▓▓ like a ▓▓▓▓▓. he doesn't need his reflection, all it takes is for him to look down at himself. he'll see that the same patches of ▓░░░▓ has traveled to his ches░, his a░tire has shifted to a prince'░ robe. it's in kamui's fav▓░░░▓ color, he's a li░░le shorter n░░, a child, ▓ ▓▓▓▓, ▓▓▓▓▓. chu▓▓y cheeks. big ro▓▓nd eyes.
colors fade in and out in the patches of ▓▒░▒▓░▒░▓▊███: red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, violet.
kim soleum wouldn't know what he looks like himself in the light, in his eyes, sometimes he can see his paw shift from black to something else. it's like a being trying to remember that it has an actual form, and the surroundings are like looking through a plethora of bubbles, and sometimes they twist and pop and soleum, but the colors never fade as he attempts to console the boy's worries.
or, so he thought.
when he looks in direction of the other... what he sees through his own eyes is a child, an eight year old dressed in dirty rags filled with holes, wet from the bulbous growths that ooze from the body. a black, large tail hangs from behind, a disgusting mass that festers, pulsing and growing which eats away at the energy of the child. the cat trembles, a horrible, pained cry as soleum closes his eyes shaking his head to get the sight away.
no, it's not that. it's not that. he knows he's not there. the cat grows frustrated, kim soleum feels sick... concerned, worried, a visible disturbance in his actions as he takes a step closer to go in the direction kamui was. it's because he's like this, he isn't supposed to be in this form long anyway— no, he doesn't suffer that anymore, it's just these two sides of himself are at a conflict.
in the glass, if kamui looks before he retreats into the darkness, a layout is written visible to him:
CONT▓▓TS
1. A▓▓EA▓▓NC▓
ㅤ1.1 ██████
ㅤ1.▓ 王子
ㅤ1.3 인어 아이
2. ▓▒░▒▓░▒░▓TY
ㅤ2.▓ ▒░▒UBLED
ㅤ▓.▓ LONE▓▓
ㅤ▓░▒ LO▓G░░G
3. ▓IO▒░AP▒░
4. ▒░▓░░▒
5. RE▒░▒▓▓▓▓HIPS
ㅤ▒▒▒ ▒▒▒▒ CAT
ㅤ▒▒▒ ▒▒▒ ▒▒▒▒▒▒
it goes away when he's in the shadows.
soleum, dizzy, the cat takes a few messy steps back. blinking, blinking, he notes the other is back in place. the dark. stay in the dark. he walks backwards to keep his eyes on the other to make sure nothing is wrong but the cat looks so tired, breathing slowly, and the lights of its body that are gifted by kamui continue to shine brightly until the cat...
...
makes it to the other side though tired, his legs tremble and shakes his body to remind himself everything is okay. ]
[Stay!]
[ don't do that again.
don't do that again. ]
he has been through the wringer but probably in for round2! and noone is too old to be scooped trust
easier said than done.
how the cat stumbles, how kamui can all but feel the distress that does not go away, spirals and ripples, makes him feel sick too. he thinks he must be imagining it, the resonance of pain all over his body, a pulsing that makes him tired but also burning, again. it's an unsteady step that leads him to look at the glass, to catch sight of that strange table with so many parts missing. as fast as kamui tries to process what it says, it's gone. and kamui's english isn't very good. but one stuck out. maybe fate laughs at him even here.
ㅤ▓.▓ LONE▓▓
kamui has to crouch down, curled over the sharps of his knees, but he doesn't lower his head, keeping wide violet eyes pinned on soleum's form. is his breathing off? his motion still is. he knows he was once again told to stay, and all this only got worse after he stepped into the light...
damned if you do, damned if you don't.
his heart beats, strained. sweat prickles down his nape. ]
...I'm sorry....are you...okay?
[ he cannot help but ask, even knowing the cat can only 'say' so much. how long is this hall? somehow it's very difficult to tell at this point, the cathedral's very shape unreliable in its concreteness. like light. like shadow. despite being very quiet, kamui's voice fills the space as water into a given vessel. pressed into each crevice of silence. the overlap of everything is just the first thing:
i'm sorry i'm sorry...
because somehow or other he can tell. it's his fault. isn't it? things aren't working. because of him. right? and now soleum is...
in and out of focus, kamui cannot quite tell how poor the cat's state is, but it takes everything in him to not just run across the whole distance between them to hold him if he would be permitted this. at least if they were close, he could carry him again, could pet down his trembling spine and ask again: are you okay?
is it my fault?are you okay? how can i help? please...please tell me that i can. ]one thing soleum does not do is trust hes too old for that look where trust got him
is he okay? it's fine. he's fine. it's those memories, the look of children who believe they're happy when they're slowly dying. he remembers the situation so well that it feels like yesterday he were leading them to a place of safety. this way! it's a nauseating feeling having to see it again, the way this cathedral uses the reality of soleum's perception.
besides, this person is just like the rest of them.
...
soleum shakes his head, it takes only a few more steps when he finally meets the shadows on the other side. blanketed in the coolness of it, soleum's unable to relax even like this, his fur on edge, the way his red eyes linger on the child across the ocean of light thinking he'll move again. soleum stares, the cat stares, and he's unable to keep his eyes off of him until he recalls why he's here. the cloth, that's why soleum came here, and that's why black paws, one after the other, close the distance to bite down on the edge of it.
he yanks, the goblets on the surface fall over with a loud clatter that echoes through the building. narrowly dodging them, the cat pulls and pulls until more fall over with pink petals pour from a cup off the edge of the table and down onto the cat. he's almost there, almost there, and with another pull the cloth completely comes down and on top of the black cat causing him to vanish underneath.
the impression of the being is underneath, his tail swishes up, and kamui can see him easily as the cat though wobbly. his ears twitch, the sound of creaking sounds out behind him, and the table with faulty legs leans towards the cat's direction, collapsing in on itself. luckily, the cat is disoriented, and he step, step, steps to the side as if it were planned.
he's fine. ]
[Way?]
[ unable to see, the cat remains, he may not know that the other wants to be of use but there's a feeling... with the pieces of the floor unstable compared to some spots. it's not good for the feline to maneuver like this when the other is so ... worried. ]
[Way?]
[ that child's voice speaks aloud again.
patient, curious, and wondering. there are no concerns from the cat. ]
IT'S NEVER TOO LATE?! i mean it might be. DETAILS. WELL EITHER WAY kamui likes him !!
[ he raises his voice over its naturally milder tone. fully capable of yelling or crying, it's not that he can't. it's just that something in each layer of this dream has so-far felt like a kind of inexplicable suppression. it furls tightly in kamui's chest, and if he pays too much attention to it, it hurts. so he doesn't. so he watches the cat and worries, worries, worries. the phantom feelings inspired by how soleum saw him are ebbing now that the cat is covered and kamui has been properly in the dark again for a bit now. his mind wavers a bit though: what was that? ]
...this way. I'm here...ah...I'm sorry you were hurt.
[ in a sense. kamui is still sure, when he stepped into the light things changed. his worry amplifies. ]
...I wanted to help, but.
[ but i never can.
...
keep talking. ]
...and now you look like a little ghost.
[ a breath. and. one more. ]
...I'm glad you're not.
[ heartbeat. ]
...I mean, I hope you're not. I know this is a dream so anythi--
[ shuddering. how close is the cat? with how tired he must be, with whatever pain kamui caused him by stumbling into the light... kamui reaches out and his hand does stop just shy of illumination, mindful of staying encased in shadows.
here here. ]
Never mind...I'm here. This way. Just a little more.
[ his heart hurts. it doesn't feel like that sensation will stop. but kamui smiles, trying to be encouraging, and if soleum stumbles his way back into the shadows with him, he will have to deal with kamui gathering him into his trembling arms, secure and warm despite everything; will have to deal with kamui murmuring apologies and tugging the blanket down around him while still holding him, so it's more of a little cloak, letting soleum's head out and the excess cloth tapering down from kamui's arm like a strange path of white, littered with stubborn pink petals here and there along the edge. ]
nooo it's too late trust is a hard ask from a guy who only trusts himself!!
it's alright.
he's not hurt.
it was only dizzying.
dizzying, yes, and when he's scooped into kamui's arms as soon as he makes his way over... soleum shakes his head, and with helpful hands peeling back the cloth, the cat looks up.
he's not a ghost.
he's not dead. yet. ]
[Helped!]
[ enthusiastically said despite the circumstances, the cat nuzzles his head right into kamui's chest. ears twitch and flick, tail swishing against the hands that hold him in place. he's sad again, and somehow soleum did that, and when he thought they've made some progress.
this place has never been good for what soleum sees, his knowledge used against him, sometimes his memories too. it was against him, he was vulnerable, but that's because of the cat's worries! it's not soleum, it's not soleum, it's not soleum! the body vibrates, purring loudly underneath the cloth draped down his back as he attempts to reassure.
kim soleum doesn't use the murmur, he doesn't trust the murmur, but his feelings must leak through despite it all. a soft sensation, like a gentle buzz of warmth that fades in and out in motion with a heartbeat. there, there. the connection only lasts so long, leaking like a faint hum of happiness and gratefulness. when soleum pulls away to look at the other properly, his eyes shut, what appears like the feline is smiling, and he bites at the cloth as he tugs to show to kamui.
offer.
offer. ]
[This way!]
challenge accepted /cat stare/
when the cat pulls back, kamui cannot help but pet him again, fingers curling behind one ear, endeared by the smile or what seems to him to be one. the offer of the cloth has him confused for a moment before understanding. ah. well then.
he keeps soleum gently in the crook of his arm, held securely to his chest, tugging the sheet up over his own head, which of course then drapes nicely over both of them. his gaze fixes down, since at least he knows to go 'forward' but rather, having seen the various obstructions or possible pitfalls on soleum's way both to and from, he's mindful of this. any time he has to hop or jump to avoid something, soleum will feel kamui hold him a bit tighter, sometimes pressed up back into the narrow of his throat or jaw. a murmured apology. then on.
nearer the end of the unrelenting light, somehow the ground gives way more severely, but kamui leans his weight towards his toe and leaps the rest of the way, the sheet coming off in the process but luckily only as they land back in the safety of the shadows. still, the impression of the cloth is almost like wings and it lands somewhere behind them, half in the light and half in the dark. he lands as carefully as possible, but even then, crouched low again, cradled over soleum, when kamui leans back a bit, he peers down, worried again. ]
Sorry...are you okay?
[ in a sense at this point, if soleum is okay, kamui is too. ]
nooooooooo dont do itttttttt dont set kamui up for failure, soleum will LIE!!!
the cat side of him doesn't want to leave the child ever, and soleum doesn't either, but... at the end of the day, he's searching for someone important, isn't he?
the bat of his tail against kamui's arm, his body nestled against kamui's neck, there's a need which rolls off the boy in waves. if he can only have so much, the cat will do, it's probably all he has at the moment in his search. there's a part of soleum that feels bad for that, wondering if he's made it worse somehow. he knows that he can't stay with him forever as the cat isn't even truly a stray, and even the collar around his neck promises that. still, he can't help but feel slightly bad, and if he thinks on it anymore, it'll get to him.
underneath the fabric, he's unable to see anyway, and all he can do is look down to watch kamui's footing. don't step there... good! this surface seems questionable! meow! any complaints that soleum has as he watches attentively are remedied due to the other's applied caution. especially when they reach the other side, the cloth removed like a magic trick in one swift motion as they're placed underneath the shadows.
soleum looks up as he speaks, and with a soft meow, the cat squirms himself out of the boy's arms completely while he's crouched. underneath the darkness, soleum walks closer to rub his body against kamui's legs to reassure him. ]
[Great!]
[ not that he's feeling great, but as soleum stomps his feet against the ground with his tail bending at the tip. it points in the direction of kamui.
you. ]
[You! Great!]
[ the cat's grateful. that's the sort of voice leaving from the feline as it takes a few steps forward, then stops before turning to look at kamui. ]
[Happy!]
it's okay...he will fail trying at least! :c
unconsciously kamui uses one hand to reach out and pet soleum even as they walk, leaning over occasionally.
to that voice, he shakes his head at 'great', but then huffs a soft kind of laugh, another pet, another scritch if permitted still. ]
Well, yeah. Because you're alright.
[ simple but the truth in this case. without thinking of it, as they walk, kamui touches the side of his own face. he's sure he didn't imagine it. but as they delve deeper into this part of the cathedral he becomes only more and more aware he has no idea which way to go, where to start (over). here and there his gaze flicks to the collar around soleum's neck. he wonders again at who he belongs to or if that's even what such a thing means here, if that's rude or if it's normal. ]
I don't...know how much we understand each other but...thank you.
[ for all the help. for the warmth especially. he has to find subaru. and he has to return to tokyo.
the door they find themselves at leads back to the garden somehow and kamui isn't sure why or how that should be, considering their path so-far. perhaps it is a garden that looks the same but isn't? still, he hesitates, a faint shiver in his frame, and he wonders if it would be out of line to pick the cat up again. this place makes him distrustful but also so out of sorts it's almost hard to hold onto even his distrust. as if he's in free fall trying to make sure he lands on his feet. he blinks. he hears other things though that sound almost like...horses? farther. farther in.
yet somehow also very near.
he compromises, not scooping soleum but crouching down again so he can run a pale hand along his back, undecided whether to go forward or try to find yet another angle, or if it would still lead them here. over and over. ]
kamui doesn't have to fail, he can just win by being a good boy
he wastes no time using kamui's hand as a step to walk right up his arm then to his shoulder, sitting down to make himself comfortable. this probably isn't the ideal place for him to be or what kamui wants, and soleum has to mentally prepare himself to wait for the boy's arms to come up before jumping right into his hold. he's sure this is what makes kamui the happiest anyway, even if it's at the expense of soleum being way too old to be carried. he's a cat right now, he just has to stop thinking about it too hard. ]
[This way!]
[ his body presses against the boy's chest, a loud purring vibrates from him as he surveys the area with wide eyes. it's no different from where they were before, it's even more desolate and holds a sort of pressure that would weigh down on anyone if they were alone. he wonders if the other will be okay by himself, as much as soleum doesn't want to leave him alone... he knows that he must. he can understand everything that's spoken between them, he isn't completely overtaken by the cat aside from instincts and a desire to protect, it's not hard to be a companion that the other might need.
he really should ask for his forgiveness one day if they ever meet again, but soleum doubts that they will.
an ear twitches forward to tell kamui which way to go, because he can ear it too, the sound of hooves against the ground. a creature sneezing through their snout, the blowing wind that scatters what seems like particles of darkness before they merge together, regaining the form of a familiar creature in the corner of their eyes. the tip of soleum's tail tickles underneath the boy's chin.
if he were human, then he would communicate that he has his reservations to them, but if kamui finds them to be an answer... to that riddle no less, does he trust it? however, he can't do that now, and rather than allow the child to be caught up in his own thoughts, soleum meows loudly. his voice carries, the sound of hooves against the field grow quicker, not to run away, but to alert themselves to the sound that something else is here and around.
in one direction, soleum turns his head to look there then back to kamui. there's no ambush, nor does the horses seem like they wish to run. perhaps it's fine to move in the direction of them. ]