antreegonist | [a heart.]

Entry tags:

hearts,
ic

[a heart.]

There's a moment of nothing but light and sensation. Someone's looking you over and the scrutiny prickles and burns – it's nearly a physical pain, like fine little hooks digging past your skin, into the very meat of you. I know who you are, it says, and I know what you are, and that you don't have any business here --

“But you do,” says Mithos behind you. He's a tired, steady voice in your ear, a light hand on your shoulder. “I don't know what Dream's thinking, but everyone is welcome here in my heart; just keep in mind it's a real mess right now.”

Your vision clears.

((assume your characters wandered in here through a dream. also join #ihateyouihateyouiwanttocuddle on irc if you can!))

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A light breeze pours in, riffling everything; the medicinal smell seems to clear, the room to freshen.

There's a box garden set outside the window, the soil turned and wet, but nothing's been planted there yet.

Is there supposed to be something planted here?

"Supposed? Well, kind of."

[inquiring noise...?]

"Check the table..."

[checks it? IS THERE SOMETHING THAT WASN'T VISIBLE WHEN I FIRST LOOKED AROUND THE ROOM]

There are dents in the workroom wall you might have missed before; oh Martel.

There's a little bag of woven fiber among the tools on the table.

[picks it up and looks inside.]

It's full of small and nondescript seeds, but when you touch it, you see a glimpse of memory: a vast mountain meadow covered with fandalias.

Do these go in the box?

"If you want to plant 'em for her."

Of course.

[starts putting them in the dirt, carefully.]

When you've planted the last one, after a minute, tiny pale sprouts poke themselves through the soil.

You feel . . . relieved, and like you've just shared something that was too heavy to carry well alone.

[. . . pets the little plants. . .]

Pppperk!

[ :]

heads out of the room and goes to poke his head in the cedar door.]

Beyond the cedar door is a room that's pretty easily identifiable as your and Mithos's room. It doesn't quite correspond to any of the real versions from the forest or the cove or Wonderland.

There's a heavy rug on the floor, and wide windows through which sunlight streams in. The view is of the ghostly tree. There are a couple of terrariums set on one sill, and a windowbox filled with growing plants on the other. You can see a shadowvine rope just outside that window as well, presumably for climbing onto the roof.

The walls are rather blurred and milky, though painted images shift over them as you watch: a variety of landscapes and seascapes -- some clearly Aather-inspired, some not -- and fantastical creatures. Unibunnasauruses, dragons, rockziles, robot whales, bee flats . . . you name it, it's there.

There's one big, comfortable bed with a small table beside it. The dreamcatcher, made of wood and beads and multicolored ribbons, hangs on the headboard; there's something strange about it. There are some wooden mobiles of animals hanging from the ceiling. Two heavy chests are pushed up against the foot of the bed. A green vine wreathes up one of the bedposts.

To the side are a comfortable-looking couch, a huge pile of pillows and some stuffed toys, and another small table.

There's also a work area: a large set of shelves combined with a long desk and a cabinet. There are a few books and knickknacks on the shelves, including a brightly painted handmade birdhouse. Small sewing and carving projects litter the desk, along with a couple of sketchbooks, a copper box worked with designs, and a handful of particular-looking materials -- thin wooden struts, sheets of thin paper, and a small candle.

Your jacket is hung up, and both your boots are by the door; it's like you've stepped out for just a moment. The sheets on the bed are slightly mussed. The whole place feels pretty homey and lived-in, welcoming.

[oh...

goes to sit on the bed.]

It is familiar and comfortable -- physically and with a little push from memories laid within it, as well: how many nights has Mithos spent in this bed? How many of them were good?

[...aaaah >< pokes at the little vine? you're new.]

It's different from the one in the skill room, though again more an impression than a memory, a brief flush of sensations rather than outright sex.

Warmth. With Lloyd, close, contact, held, grounded, a flush spreading through you; his mana's there, you're tuned to it and the flux and rise and fall of it, all your senses on him in this moment, together; that endless loop of you're making me feel good and that's making you feel good and that's making me feel good, right here, right now; physicality and intimacy and honesty until you're drunk with it, open and trusting and thoroughly in love.

[f. . . fwuhhhhhhhhh

/////////////]

It's pretty intense, but fades quickly.

[r-rubs at his face. just. startled!! GEEZ

. . . takes a closer look at the dreamcatcher, after a moment]

A huge blue eye glares back at you through it.

Nightmare is there.

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