Chapter V - Brimstone

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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

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Anton shrugged almost dismissively. "It could be a small chunk of Hope. We wouldn't have a hard time finding each other."

Delmar rolled his eyes at that. "Oh, of course. Let's ask the untrained and clearly worried human to dream up a detailed cross-section of an entire city - the overly ambitious who tried to dream up their own copy of Dalarath inevitably produced errors and inconsistencies, problems ranging from bottomless holes to half-remembered buildings merging together on the dreamer's first signs of recognition. If it's to be universal, it has to be simple. It has to be immediate, and fraught with meaning for everyone here."

Archie's mustache twitched. "Far be it from me to boast, but my mansion does seem to fit the bill. They've all worked here, familiarity is largely a given, even if there are some rooms that remained unused or that were relegated to storing the old museum's artifacts."

Smirnov's ears cocked. "I never really visited here after its last days as a museum. I'm not sure I have half the familiarity with this place that you people do.
- Delmar and I are still parsing everything on our own terms," reminded Samuel. "You couldn't count on either of us for an anchor."

Cuthbert looked around. "There has to be a spot here that was largely untouched during both the Museum and Vigilante Office eras. Administrative offices, maintenance areas, sections that were fenced-off to be protected from tampering while still looking lived-in..."

Archie clicked his tongue. "That would be the Huntsman's Room. We only ever so much as removed the brass poles and satin cords, dusted everything off and resumed using my couches and chairs as if Shamus and I had never been decommissioned. The only alteration I had to make involved storing the display bottles in the drinks cabinet and getting some real spirits shipped in. As luck would have it, we'll be as comfortable there as we could possibly, barring the notion of using my guest rooms."

Delmar thoughtfully eyed Meris. "Hrm. If Drake weren't involved, I'd have suggested using separate rooms for privacy's sake, but it'll be easier for him to transition from lucid dreaming through to the Darkhallow if we start the process in that very same room."

Archie didn't look too fazed. "I have ample chairs and couches. Failing that, cadging a pillow and lying on my carpet by the fireplace wouldn't be too uncomfortable: it wouldn't be a hunter's den if I did not have a few thick animal pelts to rather predictably lounge on."

He raised a hand. "Not that I've ever done such a thing, mind you. Bucky has teased me in the past, saying I could lure Crystal by the fireplace with my bare mechanical hide, some pelts and a few roses. You'll have to forgive his crass sense of humor - no amount of travel will ever take the boisterous yokel out of this particular American..."

Holden then added a smirk. "I would rather take to it with a dressing gown, a pair of slippers and a fez, myself - but that's neither here nor there," he said, winking at Lowell.

Drake grinned at that.  "Well, you're stuck now, Arch. I'll dream that combo into being and I'll add a bubble-blowing pipe for good measure.

The Clank went along with it with a comically serious nod of approval. "Quite."

* * *

Vernon managed a noncommittal pout. "Our family's Mantle is partly to blame, I suppose. You've seen me under it: I grin like a madman, could devour a stable's worth of horses and almost worryingly lust for violence. I've had success at channeling it discreetly and in small doses, but my father was forced into accepting the Bean and becoming the Yule King after centuries of a mild-mannered supernatural existence. He simply wasn't cut out for it. The Mantle burned him prematurely, snuffed out youthfulness from within.

As much as I don't condone his later opinions, I cannot fault him entirely."

He then looked back to Eirean. "Weren't you looking for Scotch tape in Holden Hall, darling?
- I was," admitted the Lady. "I've got gifts to wrap for a special someone, and Anjali pulled me out of my search for Bagley and Gubbin. "I've got everything I need, except the patience to adapt Oaths of Binding to a bunch of paper crafts."

Vernon smiled. "And I was looking for an excuse to fish for an update or two from Archibald," he admitted, "ideally over some of that delicious sherry of his."

Still smiling, he pulled his morning coat off of his chair's back and shucked it on in a few practiced motions. "What say you?" he asked Neasa and Bucky. "Shall we head back?"

Eir's smile turned a smidgen meaner. "Right - updates. Says the man who still hasn't gotten around to his half of our Christmas shopping. "You're just looking for an excuse to pull off your Scrooge cosplay with your Mantle being in its full seasonal glory."

Vernon smiled, chuckled and purred "Humbug" against the Lady's cheek.
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

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Crystal smirked and amusedly chuckled. "I might take that arrangement at some point, but let's focus on Aidan," she partially joked. "But the Huntsman's Room seems like the ideal place to rest and venture out into this dreamscape of yours."

Meris postulated, "It should do fine. The more comfortable the setting, the easier it is for the mind to relax and sink deeper. I'm wondering if my dreamscape will merge with yours somewhat and make it more realistic. Nereus and I had some idea of what Hope would look like, but your personal understanding of it may shape it to some degree. There's nothing wrong with that, but it could certainly aid with realism during your training."

*~*~*

The eldest McConmara sibling smiled at the Lord and Lady. "Damn, I was right. You two couldn't get any more adorable," she complimented.

Then focusing on what had been transpiring before they had left, Neasa agreed with the idea, "Since everything's settled here and Anjali's gotten her angle finder back, we might as well head back.There were some interesting developments that had started when we left, namely Azardad showing up and Captain Smirnov tagging along with him. The captain's introduction to all of the whirlwind events is probably interesting, to say the least, for him. I'm wondering if Azardad had some new developments with Three's Lexicon, since Azradad certainly didn't come by for refreshments..."
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

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The group started packing, which largely involved Aidan tidying up his desk before leaving the room. "I wouldn't be too surprised if it were the case," nodded Cuthbert to Meris. "Regarding material or physical updates to your Sanctum, I mean. Repeated visits to France and my bit of a yen for Medieval architecture made it so my little fortress of the mind looks a little more realistically weather-worn each time I visit. There's a patch of ivy that was added along the Eastern wall, for instance, that I don't remember placing there myself. The subconscious usually ends up tweaking minor details like these over time. The mind wants verisimilitude no matter how fantastical the original project might've been, so things tend to gradually tone down over time."

Delmar nodded. "Except for those Prelates who fell head-over-heels for Their doctrine, of course. When you treat madness as being this sacred, this integral to your beliefs, it'll be several long lifetimes before anything as pesky as the real world's sense of Physics begins to assert itself in the Darkhallow."

He made a face. "Paradoxical architecture is all well and good when you're a starting dreamer, but it gets in the way of honest research and meditation. Before I died, I liked to keep my Sanctum on the romantic side of things: I had a little island villa I'd stuffed with all the reminders of our past culture. Since I'd never seen the stars before, I'd make and unmake constellations as I'd see fit and wildly speculated on sunlight's exact spectrum. Greenish sunrises, bright purple sunsets..."

Three smiled as they passed a window. "Not too disappointed, I hope?
- Well, I'd cadged Meris' memories of Orcadian mornings, once I had the opportunity to make a little nook for myself. I'd gotten used to hazy mornings, all the mist diffracting morning light into a sort of clear fog... All of it in the correct colors, of course. Rhode Island's sunlight does have that maritime glow I enjoy, but it's clearer than I'd expected."

Three scoffed in amusement as they entered the Hunstman's Room. "This is Hope, Delmar; not Los Angeles. Head down south if you want real haze and smog."

Delmar winced for comedic effect. "I'm... not that much in a hurry to integrate air pollution into Meris' Sanctum, thank you very much."

Archie politely shouldered his way past the group. "Here - if I may, I've always found that the best way to force oneself to doze off is to start a nice, cozy fire; central heating be damned," he said, as he placed a knee down and selected a few logs from a nearby rack. "If anyone here needs further encouragement, my spirits cabinet is at your disposal. One sup at the Taylor port I keep and one of the throw blankets should be enough to tucker nearly anyone out. If anyone has a penchant for lullabies, I can manage a passable Brahms on the violin."

Anton rolled his eyes and headed for the drinks cabinet, picking out two glasses. One was filled with water, the other with undiluted whisky. Ignoring Archie's faintly offended gaze, he headed for one of the couches with the Clank's entire Glenlivet bottle in hand and then sat down. "I'd have gone for Ambien or Ativan," he groused, which prompted a frown from Cuthbert.

"I disagree," he said. "The clearest connections to the Darkhallow always come out of natural sleep. "Spike the experience and you'll turn into a wild card Drake doesn't need in the current equation."

Anton shrugged. "See if I care."

Three sat down in the chair next to Archie's usual perch and nursed a can of diet soda the way Holden would've a finger of brandy in front of the nascent fire in the hearth. "This place has spoiled me, honestly," he said. "I'll have a hard time sleeping if I don't get some Holden-patented ASMR in, first.
Aha," noted Archie, raising a finger as he finished poking the shyly burning logs, "light fireside banter. There's nothing quite like quietly-discussed happy memories to put one's mind at ease."

* * *

Thankfully, Vernon knew more graceful ways around the planar barriers than the sort of Gates the help probably used. He headed out of the sitting room they'd been in, waited for Bucky, Neasa, Anjali and Eir to follow along. They wouldn't have to wait for long, as more servants fell in step long enough to pass the Lord his overcoat, scarf and gibus. Eir's power suit was complemented with a more modern beige overcoat and a set of ear mufflers.

The group went to Frosthall's main entrance. Keys flashed as they left the front door, Evergloam's light, barely chilly winter wonderland unfolding beyond, and Vernon both locked and unlocked the estate's front doors. The unlocking motion came with a bit of exerted willpower, the mansion's interior replaced with a view of Holden Hall from across the street, from one of the condo towers. As could be expected, the tower's porter looked a bit surprised to see a small gaggle of people walk out of the lobby's inner door and out of nowhere - but Faerie entrances and exits were fairly commonplace around Holden Hall. The porter tipped his hat at Vernon's approach, Haskill touched his gibus' brim with a few fingers, and they stepped out into the mortal plane's much colder December evening.

Last summer, Neasa would've seen Eirean sitting in Centennial Park, eyes closed, basking in all of Summer's qualities for a few instants every other day. The balmy heat, the sun on her face, the scent of freshly-cut grass, the park's sprinklers chattering and children laughing, dogs barking... Vernon did much the same, briefly stopping to inhale the chill gratefully, his ears faintly twitching as the whistling of air tickled them, mingled with a nearby car's quiet, subdued droning of an orchestral version of I'll be Home for Christmas. The sidewalks and pavement glistened, his eyes moving almost catlike as they watched shimmers of light dance. His steps turned slightly fluid, the swinging of his free arm more confident and casual, the clicking of his umbrella's tip both precise and entirely natural.

Neasa being a selkie, odds were the cold wouldn't bother her as much as it would Anjali. Even then, frigid weather felt almost like more of a blessing than a curse to the Winter Lord, his footsteps leaving behind shoe sole-patterned plaques of ice. As jovial as he felt, his Mantle reflected it, the little plaques of frost sprouting fancy-looking curlicues of ice, like delicate vines carefully sculpted out of frozen water. The cold felt especially different around Vernon, enough so that Anjali opted to stick close to him. As long as Haskill was within arm's reach, you felt as though your not packing a coat wouldn't have been any sort of serious issue. You'd still feel the cold, but in a way that relegated to a sort of thematic suggestion - something more jovially appropriate than generally life-threatening.

Anjali looked up to Vernon as they walked up to the estate's front doors. "So your Mantle can do nice stuff, too," she noted.

Haskill smirked, feigning vanity. "Yuletide in the flesh, dear girl. Turn-of-season feasts, jaunty violin tunes, strangely endearing seasonal family disputes, glittering presents and blissfully wasted days by the fireplace, playing card games or solving the world's troubles... House Christmas to a tee."

Eir made a face. "I like winter about a week out of those four months. Give me pajama pants and chick flicks for the rest of 'em, and don't force me to get out if I don't have to."

Vernon looked as though he hadn't heard her, smiling inwardly at other postcard-worthy details. "Hm, twinkling lights and nighttime ice-skating...
- Yay, just what I've always wanted," joked Eirean, "twisted ankles and a bruised ego!"

The Lord sighed wistfully as he knocked on estate's door, leaving Eir to shake her head. "I shouldn't judge," she said, smirking, "there hasn't been a single Fire Department-organized park barbecue that I haven't attended, and I've burned tens of thousands of dollars on water guns for kids..."
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

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Crystal's sharp werewolf hearing caught the sound of Vernon'a knock at the front door, prompting her to gesture in the direction of the main entrance. "It seems that we might have some visitors, maybe it's Neasa back from Faerie with Bucky and Anjali," she told the rest, hesitating from laying down for a rest just then. She left the Huntsman's Room and hurried to the door, opening it to find the expected trio plus the local Fae Lord and Lady.

"Ah, you're back. I see you found Anjali's angle finder," she noted, peering down at the young girl.

"Well, we did, and I was challenged by one of Sharpe's men, who bit off more than he could chew," the selkie responded.

Neasa's reply left the deputy chief slightly dumbfounded. "You've only been gone for a few minutes, and I get the time differences between the two planes, but how did you-?"

"I said something he didn't like, and he lost his own challenge because I got tired of his BS," she groused. "What happened with Azardad and Captain Smirnov?"

"The captain's getting used to all this new information well enough, but we have had an interesting development. Seems we have new team members named Samuel and Delmar, the latter being one of Meris' old friends," Crystal informed the group.

Neasa blinked at this and scoffed. "It looks like we arrived at just the right time," she said, going inside after the older woman let her and the others in.
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

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Smirnov looked resolute in his decision to hang back in a corner of the room and watch the happenings unfold. "It's a lot to take in," he admitted to the roane, smiling sheepishly as he did. "I'm starting to get a sense of why you kept certain things on a need-to-know basis; the mayor isn't known for his active filtering capabilities. Still, I'm watching a group of people talk to two other folks who don't exist in our common understanding of sensory perception, so it's..."

He shrugged, eyed the group again and crossed his arms against his chest. "Let's just say I'm tempted to go fetch my e-cig from the car. I always get nervous when I'm up against things I can't handle, and one of my detectives' reflexes improve the more drunk he gets, instead of the other way around..."

The German Shepherd then glanced at Lowell. "Er, that'd be Detective Maley. He's a low-level metahuman - he was born with mutations that make him respond to carbohydrate intake and ethanol in ways that are fairly non-standard. He's focused on gang activity since his wife and daughter died in a drive-by, ten years ago. It's all in his file at Central."

Archie looked up to Smirnov as he sat down. "I've perused his file - along with yours, I'll confess, Captain. Quite the storied record, eh? It's a shame Doherty and you went your seperate ways all these years ago, it seems like he could use a sobering influence. The mayor means well, but his managerial style leaves much to be desired."

Looking at the seating and lounging arrangements being prepared, Vernon couldn't repress a dubious scratching of the back of his head. "It does seem as though things will soon be a tad too casual for my discussing preparations with you, Lord Holden. Should we return later?"

As congenial as ever, Archie dismissively waved at Vernon's concerns. "Nonsense, Haskill. When it comes to this little sojourn and construction project we're about to undertake, my understanding is that the rule is The more, the merrier. Safer, too."

From the perspective Vernon, Eir, Anjali, Neasa and Bucky shared, the Clank then looked at a seemingly empty chair. "Samuel wants you to hold on for a moment while he is connecting you..."

Bucky barely had the time to add something about his old friend having finally gone loopy that the previously empty chair would be quite suddenly occupied, according to Neasa's sensory perceptions. A new Void Weaver was seated there, looking almost like a relative of Aidan's! It then spoke up, measuring its words to counteract the sudden jolt.

"Hello, Neasa. I'm Samuel, Aidan's constructed persona for his Lexicon."

He then nodded to the others. "I'm pleased to meet you."

Understandably shocked, Vernon crept closer and then experimentally swept a hand in the rough space occupied by Samuel's torso. The Void Weaver seemed to repress a laugh in response, and then coughed in embarrassment. "Sorry," he said, "that tickled."

Delmar spoke up from the rear and left-hand side of the newcomers. "We're not physically present in this room, but we're either constructs, in Samuel's case, or memory backups in mine. I'm the figment of a man Meris met in Dalarath, a sort of consensual hallucination of hers. Doctor Azardad modified Aidan's Lexicon to both form Samuel and allow me to network with the rest of you."

He smiled. "My name is Delmar; I was the head of Dalarath's spiritual and ideological resistance to the Others. I placed revolution in Meris and Nereus' hopeful hands and tried to focus on preserving what it was of our true past that our corruption hadn't destroyed. We're going to try and build Aidan's sanctum in my species' collective dream-space, while also trying to reach Nereus for the sake of support and team coordination."
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

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Meris nodded. "The most notable part of Samuel and Delmar's presences here are the fact that those who aren't typically aligned with an understanding of the Darkhallow could still potentially go there because they're both acting as a sort of mental filter," she explained.

Neasa blinked. "Really? That always seemed like a pretty exclusive club of sorts," she mused with a bit of joking tone.

The Archmage scoffed. "It'll mainly involve a change in perspective. It's probably the closest you'll get to having a sense of what the different planes are with regard to looping imagery, but that's mainly meant for security measures." she replied. "And as we mentioned, your views of Hope may shape mine and Aidan's."

Curious, Meris' oldest granddaughter walked up to the Reverend and gingerly reached out her hand to shake his. "Thank you for looking out for my grandmother all of these years. It's a pleasure to meet you, Delmar."
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

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For all intents and purposes, Delmar shook Neasa's hand. His hand could still be seen phasing through hers, his fingers carefully curled to avoid the odd sight of his digits "clipping" through Neasa's palm. The selkie would find her mind being pinged with something unusual: a purely sensory telepathic transmission. Seeing as she wouldn't have been able to feel Delmar's touch, Three's Lexicon was attempting to patch that in, feeding her what felt like finely aged flesh touching hers, carrying an almost picture-perfect haze of human warmth. A frank and comfortably short contact - essentially from colleague to colleague.

"You're welcome," he said, "and the pleasure's all mine. Meris was and still is an appreciated lifeline, but I do my best to leave her be. Our creating this social circle should change things - I've always had to wait for opportune moments to appear before her. Real life isn't about opportunity, it's found in living from moment to moment."

Having beckoned Vernon and Eir closer, Archie served them small tumblers of Scotch, stopping to pass Anjali a can of sparkling water. Eir smiled as the girl flashed her father a grateful smile, hanging slightly back to see if she'd been able to scooch herself somewhere between or near Crystal and her father.

"She's adorable," said the Lady. "I never imagined that this kind of, well, resurrection, would be so seamless. You'd hardly assume she's suffered at all."

Archie's smile was more knowing and tinged with a bit of sadness. "It's the distance between us, the lasting chasm between someone who has had time to heal in a world of absolute peace, and an old man who was forced to learn to move past the pain. Her death is an oddly-placed comma in the sentence of her life, from her point of view."

He tapped his glass idly for a second or two, fondly watching his daughter as she walked up to the Deputy Chief. "It was an exclamation point for me," he said. "I may be her father, I also am the one who failed to save her life in the first place."

Vernon looked slightly troubled. "Yes, I suspect things would be difficult for me if Josephine were to reach out from beyond. I've moved on, for one. I've no clue if she has."

Eir smiled and gripped his hand. "I believed you when you told me you thought she'd have liked me. If she's followed us so far, she knows I'm not trying to replace her."

Fierce love and a smidgen of lust flashed in the Winter Lord's eyes, but he settled with gently cupping the Lady's chin with a hand. "We'll speak of this later," he quietly told his love. "We've business, for now."

McHale obviously agreed, as she slipped a hand through her hair. The same blaze of sentiment passed through her eyes, and she squeezed his hand tightly. "So," she asked, coughing to recollect herself, "what does this imply?"

Three gestured to the remaining couch. "We're all going to nap for a bit - odds are you'll wake up barely feeling refreshed. We'll do everything we can to minimize strain, but dragging a non-Weaver mind into the Darkhallow consensually might cause some fairly vivid images. Really active dreams rarely leave you feeling refreshed when you wake up, which is why some Weavers can spend more than twelve hours in bed if they have a lot of planning or testing to do. Some of Nereus' more official counsellors could sleep for weeks at a time back in Dalarath, but you wouldn't know it if you looked at what they did once they woke up. Lucian Rothchild shaped his entire estate in one go after spending two weeks blueprinting it in the Darkhallow. He'd only wake up to take care of any bodily needs, and even then, he'd basically be a sleepwalker."

Bucky had to scoff at that. "We gonna run the marathon while snoozing, or what? You've seen me nap, Drake - I don't have any trouble clockin' out if I don't have reports to type out. I lie down, stick my arms behind my head, and I'm out like a light by the next ten seconds."

Aidan had to smirk at that. "True enough, but you've never designed a world before, Shamus."

Wallace's jaw hung with a creak, at that proclamation.

Archie took a sip of his drink. "Won't this create a contradictory map of the city? Europe informs much of my sensory memories, America is more of a recent addition."

Cuthbert settled with a shrug at that. "It doesn't matter, we're not aiming for a picture-perfect recreation of Hope. We're aiming for what Hope feels like to you - and we all see it in different sights, textures or sounds. Cobblestones and stone crags, Midwestern barns shaped like Himeji temples, Faerie's glory and the mortal plane's bustle - even our absent colleagues and the current threats are going to shape the final product. I'll be damned if I don't catch some of Magnus' now-matured and refined take on lust, for instance - in things like color tones or misheard music, or the scent of Aislinn's sterile ink pots."

Delmar nodded. "The Darkhallow is equal parts vessel and mirror. It becomes everything you put into it. Put future projects in and you'll earn previews or previsions. Put your hopes and dreams in and you'll live them through to fruition in one night. Place your loved ones in and a shade of them will live out their lives in there; place your enemies and you'll have every opportunity to practice thwarting them.

Lose control and, well, the Darkhallow takes your darkest impulses and makes them real. Loved ones you believe you've harmed will torment you, and you'll endure each and every instance of abject failure you've ever panicked about. If you're a Loyalist, you can enshrine those you'd abuse and torture their shade almost endlessly. It's a sanctuary, a shrine, a garden and a cesspool all at once. It used to make luminaries out of my people, now it shapes them into monsters."
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

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"Hence why you'll see imagery similar to the Orcadian coastline merged with the local marina," Meris explained, settling down on a small couch. "My memories and the potential future blended together seamlessly, so your memories will provide similar assimilation."

"As for where we'll find Nereus in this shared dreamscape is probably at or near the house we created close to MerTown," she noted. "He's already developed real life blueprints for our residence for when he arrives here in the springtime. The Darkhallow allowed him to explore a life as an architect, so hopefully that prospective goal will become a reality here."
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

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Vernon had sat down a few moments earlier, setting his gibus down on one of the adjacent corner tables. "So we shall be dreaming the same dream together," he summarized. "Is this accurate?"

Anton sighed. "As soon as you're synchronized, you'll go from fast to slow-wave sleep. You'll go from whatever involuntary images your mind was dredging up to a lucid state. It isn't rocket science, Haskill."

The Fae looked a little surprised to hear someone he'd so rarely heard of omit the Milord title, but chose not to dwell on it. His ears lightly drooped instead.

"Oh. Erm, well... I asked because I tend to snore. Blame Eldritch genetics, but I've alarmed Eirean once or twice while still being in perfectly contented slumber. It isn't as though hypoxia would kill me, after all."

Delmar gestured in reassurance. "We'll all be too deep to notice or even be disturbed by this, Milord. We'll awaken at the first sign of trouble, of course, but my kind's take on rest ignores certain details. On the whole, unless chronically unhealthy, we tend to be deep sleepers. To use modern parlance, we sink deep and we sink hard. It might be disorienting to you, at first."

Three licked his lips. "So, do I go first? Is there some order to this?"

Cuthbert smiled reassuringly. "I'll go first, Aidan. That way, you won't be completely disoriented once you'll emerge in the Darkhallow. Now that I've described my Sanctum, you'll have something to latch onto."

Archie quirked an eyebrow. "I hope you're a fast sleeper, then, Sir Knight. I'd hate for the rest of us to wait for too long."

The Knight squirmed lightly in his chair and then set his head against his upholstered chair's headrest, closing his eyes as he did. "Don't worry," he sighed, "I'm something close to a soldier. That means I'm used to having to sleep on the clock. I sleep when I can, not when I want to."

The Clank etched a smirk. "Surely you can't-"

Already, barely a few seconds later, Cuthbert's breath had turned slow and easy, deepening with each intake of air. Twenty seconds in, his head slightly lolled to the side as the faintest hints of a snore escaped him. As fit as he was, the former Arbiter's airways were undoubtedly perfectly unobstructed, which reduced noise. His tentacles twitched once or twice, and then settled in the sort of gentle, slow bobbing that was common to peacefully resting Squids, something Meris wouldn't have seen often in Nereus' features outside of the Darkhallow.

Archie eyed Aidan and shrugged. Three was about to land a comment of some kind when something made him stop, yawn and force his eyelids open. Samuel laid a hand on Drake's shoulder as it happened.

"Don't fight it," he said, "just make sure you're comfortable and that you won't wake up lying down on the floor with a bad bruise someplace."

Delmar glanced at the others. "The same goes for the rest of you. Never operate heavy machinery while entering the Darkhallow," he said. That got a sleepy snort of amusement out of Bucky, who'd already lied down on the floor, as he said he would, and stuck his hands behind his head.

* * *

Time moves strangely when you dream. Neurologists have long-since stated that impressions related to long durations are caused by the brain's uncanny ability to simulate long spans of time. If a dream we have seems to spread across months, it's because we've become aware of what it feels like to reflect on months passed in the waking world. All the same, nobody exactly knows why the same brain can perfectly simulate the feeling of falling from a great height if one has never fallen before...

Whatever it is Three had been dreaming about before the Darkhallow asserted itself seemed to fly into pieces. He dimly remembered some strange cocktail party with an oddly sympathetic Black Goat, Aislinn jokingly asserting she'd stick to a Valley Girl accent from now on, only to go Galadriel at the sight of the broken mixer in Abdiel's bar station. The Fire Throne was oddly pissy about it not mixing Mai Tais properly. One floor above, Tom was roasting some hapless deejay alive for daring to bring a Dubstep mix of Diana Krall and Stacey Kent for a scheduled event. For some reason, the deejay wasn't screaming, but instead laughed. In the dream, cartoon logic turned burnt flesh into a sedately-dosed tan.

Lucidity came as an oddly greenish and lambent wrinkle appeared in dream-Aislinn's face. Suddenly, Three was acutely aware that he was dreaming, and found himself reaching for the dreamscape's canvas. Club Ishtar, Aislinn and the others were silently torn apart like a pile of dried leaves under a leaf-blower - and he began to fall.

With no focus and no sanctum to appear in, Three saw the Darkhallow in its distant and impossible complexity. It was a nebula of rooms and edifices, pockets of various colored atmospheres clashing and melding, corridors and rooms and places floating in the green light, connected in impossible ways. The closest arms of this odd architectural galaxy looked tangible, even frighteningly real to him. The further off into the distance you looked, the closer you came to some form of horrid white light, something that chilled Drake to the core. Dark, gelatinous tentacles lazily roiled out of the white light, caressing those architectural nodes that stood closest to it, those that seemed designed by insane minds that had tossed all thoughts of caution to the winds.

He wasn't near the light, though - he floated and fell and rose in the twilit darkness at the edges of the construct, where gemlike suns rotated around constructs surrounded by mazes and traps unlike anything he could've ever imagined. Impossibility seemed to be the marker of defense mechanisms here, rather than an inescapable fact of this reality. Slowly, he realized he was banking along some sort of odd galactic arm made up of various pockets of air and light; of places he dimly recognized from high above: Cuthbert's French Romance Period church, some sort of Geiger-esque warehouse, an artist's representation of the six to seven blocks spanning both Mertown and everything West of Fourth Avenue; along with some sort of wheat field peppered with apple trees and improbable scarecrows and Torii gates. Sounds began to layer as the wind rose and gravity took over: seagulls and a banjo played like a Japanese zither, the dispassionate chatter of some serious Hebrew news broadcast, Archie's brand of pipe tobacco and Neasa's perfume...

Still, the fall wasn't uncontrolled. He found himself almost forced to bank right, his feet guided downwards by some firm and gentle hand, his descent even gentler than what a parachute would've guaranteed. In the end, it was the chunk of Medieval France that came into focus, even as the rest of the odd biomes he'd seen could almost be felt as they heaved and creaked, grew and sagged all in an effort to connect to one another, forming rooms or straits in the void out of streets or shorelines. Dimly, Three was strangely aware that the new cluster was maintaining a connection to the wretched whole he'd briefly seen, but that countless valves had formed to purify the Others' incipient madness to the point of nonexistence. So far away from Their nexus, that awful light was nowhere to be seen. Only Cuthbert's sunlight bathed the area, the sky a tranquil robin's-egg blue in what looked like mid-July weather.

He looked around. There was a small hedge maze to his right, the stone path ahead leading to the church's opened doors. Golden plaques waited above each of the maze's several small gates. One was labelled Meris, the other one Archibald. There was one for Neasa, one for Bucky, and one for each of their guests.

Not sure how this dream's logic operated, Three spoke aloud. "So I guess I can just head down one of these paths to visit the others' dreams, right?"

There was a low, almost avuncular and welcoming creak of old wood. The path ahead shrank down, the church coming closer as if Drake's question had triggered it. Cuthbert walked down its steps, hands in his pockets.

"Technically, you'd be right," he said. "I thought it'd be easier for you if we all appeared in the same place, at first," he explained. "I've called everyone down here for now, but I'll lend the floor to Meris once we'll all have been acquainted."

Three frowned lightly, growing silent. There was birdsong in the air, and also something else. Once he recognized it, his eyes widened slightly. "You've got a choir in there? All to yourself?"

The Knight laughed easily and shook his head. "No - nothing so vain, thank God. I just remember liking this one performance of the Virgo Serena and committing it to memory. I've stored it in there, on a loop, for when I need to focus."

A strong, if gently echoing alto voice reached out of the church.

Dominus tecum,
Virgo serena
Dominus tecum, 
Virgo serena
panis et pastoris, 
virginum et regina
Salvatoris Christi,
templum extitisti
Dominus
Dominus
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TennyoCeres84
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Re: Chapter V - Brimstone

Post by TennyoCeres84 »

The two roanes had found themselves entrenched in their respective dreams.

Neasa had "woken up" in her apartment's bedroom, feeling the odd tug of Cuthbert's request to meet him at the cathedral. She momentarily thought of exploring her area, but she knew that could probably do that another time. Similar to Aidan, she found the path to the intended destination appeared rather quickly. The strongwoman slipped into the created sanctum, her mouth gaping slightly at his attention to detail. "Wow, the stained glass windows in here are gorgeous... They seem more prismatic than they do in real life."

As for Meris, she had arrived close to the gate of her own section, an odd sensation of feeling as though she was close to home. The Heiress felt the urge to proceed without them, but she held back from doing so. The notion of safety in numbers was especially true at the moment, given that she easily could jump into the deep end of the pool and find some danger. Like her granddaughter, her decision to join them was like a tether pulling her to her companions.

When she showed up, she was essentially dressed in the same attire that she had fallen asleep in, but there was a significant difference. The necklace Nybbas had reconstructed donned her neckline. Despite the jeans, sweater, and headscarf, Nereus' token of affection glinted in the light and gave her a queenly state.

"Thanks for calling us here, William. Starting with a solid, mostly neutral place acted as a suitable access point. "
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