and these shadows keep on changing, and I'm haunted

[cryopathic.livejournal.com]

Who: Vexen [cryopathic], Saix [bloodluna], Reika [subzeroes]
Where Vexen's Room, and then Vexen's brains dreams the Mansion of Sleep
When: Evening, sometime on June 17.
Rating: PG-13, will be updated as necessary.
Summary: Vexen's been having sleeping problems. Or more accurately... he's been having problems staying awake. Now it's time for Saix to try a slightly unorthodox solution... with slightly questionable results.
the Story:
"Are you sure this is going to work?"

The scientist looks at the berserker skeptically, eying the contents of the teacup he's holding in his hands. It looks disgusting; the smell isn't any more promising than the appearance of the contents. He's stripped down to a shirt and pair of comfortable linen trousers, and is currently sitting on the edge of the bed. From what he's described to Saix of his dreams, it doesn't matter what he wears before he sleeps: he wakes up in the plain, standard black of the Organization's coats every time.

He's not sure how optimistic he feels about the chances of this working, but he's desperate enough to try. On a good day, he sleeps twelve hours. Slowly but surely, despite all his efforts, that number's crawling higher. Any attempt to interrupt his sleeping cycle inevitably ends in him sleeping for longer, or going so far as to drop unconscious where he stands.

The last time he had, he knocked over a beaker of boiling water on his own hand. It sports a heavy bandage wound over its palm, now, though by all accounts its healing well enough.

Lacking a scientific explanation for the phenomenon of his recurring dreams-- which have been occuring for about a month now-- the scientist's desperate enough to try something that might actually be more on the same wavelength as... whatever's happening to him. Lately, he feels like he's coming closer and closer to the heart of whatever it is he keeps seeing in his dreams. Perhaps, if he stays long enough, he'll find his answer.

"Run your plan by me again, would you?" He stares into the cup, though, not at Saix.

What is he going to see in his dreams tonight?

Comments

[cryopathic.livejournal.com]

"No. It hasn't." Personally, Vexen isn't sure what to make of it either. "I don't know why it's here now, but he can't think it means anything positive.

"We should probably move on." Deeper into the heart of the mystery, as it were. He opens the door Saix rejected, only to frown as he stares beyond it.

"This is a room that should be five floors above us. Why it's here now..." He shakes his head. "Well, I suppose we can safely assume none of them will lead anywhere we expect."

[bloodluna.livejournal.com]

"There's nothing here out of place, aside from the rooms?" Saix asks, before he moves on. He hesitates for only as long as it takes to let his claymore go, fading back into nothing.

At least that would make sense for dreams. So far, the rest of it had been unsettlingly coherent. True dreams, more often, are no such thing. Indoor rooms can lead to gardens, and a single step can take the dreamer between continents. This room might be too perfect a depiction but, it didn't connect to where it should.

It was more familiar territory, somehow. More normal, and expected.

He opens another door, looking beyond.

That definitely doesn't belong here. "More familiar territory."

[cryopathic.livejournal.com]

"Nothing," Vexen shakes his head, hesitates, and pockets one of his notes.

"Familiar...?" He frowns, stepping close behind Saix, and looks beyond.

A plain green lawn. An ironwrought gate. And a mansion perfect for ghosts.

"Twilight Town," he says, softly.

[bloodluna.livejournal.com]

"Are these all significant places for you?" Vexen's personal quarters in Oblivion were, and Twilight Town had been making its presence felt in a few ways, of late, between one course of events and another. The room from the fifth floor of Oblivion, he can't place so well in terms of importance, if it holds any at all. It may merely serve as transition between the others.

He walks through the door, for a clearer view of this rendition of the town, and looks around. He remembers this town rather well, but anyone from the Organization would.

[cryopathic.livejournal.com]

There's something odd about this depiction of this town, really, like it doesn't extend much more than a hundred meters or so in any direction. Trying the gate will reveal that it's locked, and looking back, the door appears to have formed in mid-air. There's a curious sense of two-dimensionality about it; reaching out to touch the 'sky', one might encounter something that feels like a wall even if one's eyes insist that it has depth and light.

"Yes," Vexen answers, quietly, absently. "This was where I died."

He frowns at that spot in front of the gates, and shakes it off.

"There doesn't seem to be any other doors here. Let's look for another way out."

Althoug he can't shake the suspicion they're only falling further in.

[bloodluna.livejournal.com]

Ah.

Saix doesn't say anything, but he understands well enough. It explains other things, too, like Vexen's unease when Namine had manipulated the mansion, resulting in a facsimile of Twilight Town to appear there.

He turns, following Vexen back through the door, and back to the room they had come from. "This, at least, must come from you. Unlike the library, and the altar room." And the Chamber of Thorns.

[cryopathic.livejournal.com]

"I suppose--"

Vexen stops midsentence, coming to a standstill, as something dark flutters at the edge of his vision, like the hem of a cloak-- or a leather coat. A door that wasn't open before is open now, inviting, and the flicker of cloth appears again, at the end of the hallway it reveals.

The scientist chances a glance at Saix, frowning, then follows his instinct and moves forward, mirror held tightly in his hand.

He freezes when Zexion's voice, an echo of memories past and old conversations replayed, becomes audible.

I've identified the scent. The Schemer's shade tilts its head, turning to look at them calmly.

It's Riku.

And then it disappears.

Vexen's exhale comes as a slow, steady breath as he pulls his thoughts together. He stops when the sound of boots softly clicking along the corridor further ahead becomes audible. The sound may not be familiar to Saix, but it clearly is to the scientist, who stiffens visibly and keeps his head bowed.

When Saix looks up, there's a perfect replica of him-- albeit a semi-transparent one-- in the middle of the hallway, gazing at them calmly.

Without a word, it turns and begins to walk away.