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

[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. ]

[schietto]

[ Does he want to shake hands? Of course it's a gesture he's well familiar with, but even with them exchanging names (false at that), he hadn't really even considered doing so. But now that it's right in front of his face,Dante will reach out to take the hand extended furthest. ]

The thanks is all mine. [ he responds cooly. Dante doesn't think further about the reflections, doesn't get the same idea that perhaps those reflections are in part a fault of their own. But a fawn never means any harm, and they aren't company that Dante would dislike, so that is a comfort to him in the back of his subconscious mind. Besides, that mask is all he's really seen of the other man so far, and he likes cute fawn with antlers it wouldn't yet have than anything more disturbing and dangerous with them.

with any luck, maybe Dante can somehow provide a little more value than simply the presence of another (but he won't ignore how powerful that can be, and it's partly why he stayed. more than most he knows how awful it is to face anything alone.) ]

[roedeer]

[ upon contact, soleum holds virgil's hand with both, and leans forward slightly with a tilt of his head. due to his own age, he's unable to tell whether he's older or younger, and so he goes this route to be both polite and show respect. he keeps a firm girp onto virgil's hand, one small shake, and then his own hands withdraw. ]

Staying out of the light keeps our appearances from being altered.

[ he points out, as long as they have stood here, nothing about their reflection has changed. it would be best to stay in the dark, wouldn't it? as scary as the man's appearance is, maybe they should so soleum doesn't have to see it. a small deer hardly counts as anything intimidating compared to it, and then an idea comes to mind.

the creature that walks in tandem with virgil uses concepts that soleum thought too hard about, but... deer? ]

I'd like for you to stay in the shadows, Mr. Virgil.

[ as for kim soleum? he'll walk into the light, one hand lifts up to cover the brunt of it from blinding him as he stares at his reflection again. ]

[schietto]

[ Dante does find him very polite, and he appreciates the gesture (he'll return the handshake.) when it's pointed out about their reflections in the light, he does turn to look and notice he's correct. He wonders if that means anything? It sounds like it should, but whether it's something useful or not is anyone's guess. Still, he agreed to let the other handle that sort of thing.

Without a word he'll nod at the request to stay out of the light. Behind his mask, his brows crease a little as he watches Roe step into the light himself waiting to see what, if anything will result from it. Surely he has a reason to go directly into the light now? ]

[roedeer]

[ he has every reason to go into the light, it's information at the end of the day, and isn't a baby deer much better than what virgil has to deal with? the light does burn on his skin, and while he lifts his hands, he drags the pads of his finger along the length of his palm. ]

...

[ the small deer continues to follow soleum as he walks forward, and with only one person in the light... maybe it's a trick, but virgil may just catch what may be a deer's tail sticking out from underneath soleum's jacket. it's only brief, and if he double checks... he'll find that nothing is there. ]

This sort of church... [ soleum mumbles, ] why do you think out of all of them, this was the chosen one?

[ virgil has information on modern day churches, or... ]

Also... by the looks of this place, could you pinpoint a year?

[schietto]

[ well, Roe's baby deer is quite endearing to watch scamper along. He does blink at thinking he sees the tail and is almost disappointed (and a little bit embarrassed by himself) that it's gone on second look. He keeps to the shadows, following where he can and staying behind at the edge of them where he can't without stepping into the light. ]

A cathedral is where the seat of a Bishop resides, that's what differentiates it from a church. This cathedral in particular is for the Archbishop of a diocese. He's the spiritual leader of the local faith community as the Pope resides in Rome. St. Patrick's is the largest cathedral in America. I'd say it's extremely symbolic to pick this one out of any other in America if looking to corrupt those of Faith. There are more symbolic ones to pick on a worldwide level, though.

[ Dante's mouth twitches at the question, not sure how to answer it accurately concerning the age. It has clearly been abandoned, even if he doesn't understand why. ]

... This cathedral was completed in 1878 and was consecrated in 1910. It's been 15 years since it's consecration for me ... but I would have to guess this is around a century into the future. But, it would never be abandoned like this unless something catastrophic happened to Manhattan.

[ he's closer in pinpointing the date than he realizes although it's more because he's assumed it's got to be some length of time since it was abandoned. World War I only ended in the past decade, he can't imagine another war like that but that he has to currently assume it's the only option... well, since insane supernatural phenomena would do the trick, also. ]

[roedeer]

[ Virgil, I Know What You Are.

the light itches, kim soleum scratches at his wrist now, and as terrifying as this is to place him in harm's(?) way; it's something they need to know. if one person remains in the darkness, and someone else stays in the light... what would happen? it's not like he'll use someone for this experiment, and if anything goes wrong, he has a few abilities to get out. numb his senses, fog his mind, and that sort of body that's unable to "live" could fix the issue. ]

It has relevance, I thought so.

[ he can't say if virgil is right or wrong, but soleum chooses to believe in what he knows about the place. a perfect one to corrupt faith is an interesting choice of words, and that means it would work perfect for any supernatural disaster. though, it doesn't end there, it's the consecration and his next words that makes soleum realizes the time discrepancy between them.

then this darkness, as he knows it, has taken a person from a different time. that would make sense, wouldn't it? besides, virgil doesn't look... any older than him, but this isn't the first time a case like that has shown itself. soleum comes to a stop, a hand to his chin as he stares at the floor in thought. would sekwang reach that far, though, an entire city swallowed by a sudden inevitable destruction? why would it have bits and pieces of manhattan in a separate location unless... it has been spreading from point a... to overtake point b?

that doesn't make sense in context of writing, and would be considered lazy to him if so. ]

If we search the pews and altar, there may be booklets or something with information to understand what was trying to be achieved here. The location is something we can't ignore. We will need to see outside to check if the ghost story has chosen New York as a base.

[ the longer soleum remains under the light, it's hard to ignore the increasing visual changes. what seems like fur... has found itself on the back of his hands, and even that tail has resurfaced from underneath his coat. this time, when virgil looks, and if he looks again, it's there. it's yet to leave, and soleum's opposite fingers are touching at the back of his hand. ]

This place can alter the actual body.

[ he realizes, his ears, yes, those deer-like ears at this side of his head flap up and down a little freaked out by it. taking a step back, soleum tries to rub off the fur, but it stays on like it's part of his body. ]

[schietto]

[ This place being able to alter the body does catch his attention, actually a bit surprised at seeing it. At the same time, however, Dante clears his throat when he notices the subtle nervous movements of Roe. ]

...This is some kind of dream or nightmare, isn't it? So altering of appearance may not be anything to worry about beyond disorienting.

[roedeer]

Something like that, yes.

[ his nervous movements are there, but he stops moving in case it's speeding up the process. ]

Even if so, it's a "real" dream, and we don't want to cause so many damages to our body.

[ soleum looks towards virgil with a faint smile. ]

It really is best for you to stay in the shadows.

[schietto]

[ thanks for actively working to protect his pretty face and all that, many people are in your debt without even realizing it.

the mention of the dream being "real" has Dante pausing. At best, all he can think of is when someone acts out whatever they're dreaming, but what they're referring to couldn't possibly happen in that way. ]

...I don't understand. Is that something that happens?

[roedeer]

[ people yearn for soleum to keep virgil's attractive face protected. ]

...

[ his confusion is so realistic, did he really think this is a situation he would wake up from? soleum should have been more straightforward, but it could be that hearing things like "supernatural phenomena" doesn't come off normal, sounds like a dream... virgil said it before, didn't he, that he's never seen ghosts or anything like that before. ]

Yes. Dealing with this activity is part of my job.

[ it's why he takes another step forward, the deer follows him, hops even, and soleum can feel his own ears hit against the side of his head. ]

There may be repercussions for this, if you have nothing to combat it then I would suggest staying as safe as possible.

[schietto]

[ yes he did exactly?! Like every other dream or nightmare he's had since he can remember! ]

Your job? [ suddenly being a Mafia boss sounds a hell of a lot easier than whatever Roe's got going on in his life career choices (or maybe he didn't pick, Dante would know that well.)

Something to combat it? How do you combat something like this, via an exorcist? He has no idea. ]

... It just seems unfair if we're in this situation together.

[roedeer]

[ soleum wishes he could live like you, virgil.... this being a nightmare would be the best thing that happens to him. ]

...Yes.

[ he nods his head briefly to confirm that yes, this is something he does. it must sound unbelievable, especially when the other must think of this place as a dream. it may be a "dream", but they shouldn't act carelessly. ]

Unfair, how?

[ guy with ears and a tail asking questions is so weird, but that's the light he thinks, and if... his thoughts project onto the other, then he definitely doesn't want him to turn into.

...

that. ]

[schietto]

[ yeah he doesn't envy you at all, Mr. Roe Deer... ]

... Because one of us is putting themselves at risk to get us both through this? It's not your fault we're here.

[ Dante feels like this is obvious. (Also your ears do look nice and pettable, though.) ]

[roedeer]

[ maybe he should have let him think that this was a dream, but then restricting him from doing certain things might have caused tension. soleum grows quiet, the dotted reds of his eyes stare at the ground, glancing at his shadow that's no different from what he looks now. ]

Then you understand because of what knowledge I do have for the supernatural phenomena, I'm responsible for getting you out.

[ and responsibility is the scariest thing for soleum, he wishes that he didn't have to.

he wishes this were a dream, that he was a manifestation of a guy who happens to have appeared here. his tail twitches underneath his jacket, and soleum's ears tilt down as these are new appendages he's not sure how to control yet. ]

What would you have done if you changed? Could you have kept your sense of self?

[ so isn't it best that it's him who does and learns from what to do and not to do? ]

[schietto]

[ Dante huffs a little bit at the questions, closing his eyes in slight expectation (but also so he doesn't keep looking at the ears and the cute. Come on, you can't talk so forebodingly while looking like that. ]

How would I even know in order to answer you honestly? Nothing like this exists where I come from. It's all stories to scare children, at best. I can't say I would easily believe the change to be real or permanent, though.