eyemind | event } a dream is a wish your traitor brain makes

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event } a dream is a wish your traitor brain makes

WHO: All passengers currently aboard!
WHAT: Shared dreams.
WHERE: All y'all's subconscious...es.
WHEN: Nov. 7-21.
WARNINGS: If things get messy/triggering/sexually explicit, PLEASE put warnings in your comment subject lines! And if you die in the dream, you just move on to the next dream, no need to report deaths.

There's no warning - when the ship passes through the nebular cloud and Navi falls asleep, passengers on board will also find themselves dozing off at various times, and whether it’s after tucking themselves in for the night or passing out in the middle of doing something, unusual dreams will follow. Much like dreams normally behave, passengers will find themselves somewhere that may or may not be familiar, doing something that may be mundane or fantastical, but whatever and wherever the setting, dreamers will more or less accept it as reality.

Sweet dreams, passengers. Enjoy getting to know each other a little better!

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Murmur deduced correctly: this was about the most polite Mammon was capable of being, and he brightens when the angel seems to understand. "The sweeter the better!" he grins as he bites into his breakfast.

Mammon works on the food for a few moments as he thinks things over. After a mouthful of jammy bread he ventures, "So, that angel. Who was that?"

At least Mammon isn't being wholly unpleasant, so Murmur will tolerate it. Eventually the water finally reaches an acceptable boil and he can go to work getting a couple cups of tea steeping.

He's content not to offer more conversation than Mammon initiates right now, as it is he's seen far too much and he's really not sure what to do about that. His mind, pieces of his past, memories he thought were safe... It felt like a violation. One he wasn't entirely sure how to conceptualize.

And there they were, the questions. Again he's quiet for a few moments while he mulls over how best to answer. "Shateiel, Angel of Silence." He's not sure what role that angel might have played in Mammon's universe, if he was known at all, but in his he was Heaven's assassin. Not exactly well liked on either side of the fence.

Mammon indeed saw far too much. He saw so much he can't precisely process all of it and justify it with his own perspective. He isn't like Murmur, he hated sharing the view Murmur had, but he's trying to ignore the parts he can't understand.

He could perfectly understand the hatred between the angel and them. He wasn't going to say he felt a little sorry that Murmur had to go through everything the angel dealt out, but he certainly thought it.

"Huh." It's not a name that Mammon recognizes. "Well, screw him." He'd be happy not to think about it ever again, frankly. If only it were that easy for Murmur.

Thank goodness he wasn't asking more invasive questions, honestly. It wasn't exactly like Murmur wanted to talk about it, much less the parts where it was strongly implied he wasn't an angel during those times. He's happy to ignore them if Mammon is. That would lead to just too much invasion.

Heh, well, he got one thing right. Murmur let out an amused huff through his nose. "Screw him, indeed," He agreed. Loading Mammon's teacup with way too much sugar. He said he likes it sweet!

If only he could forget. It's just too bad Celestial brains don't work that way.

Mammon isn't thinking about the implied demonhood he saw, as he's mostly proud of himself for his "excellent" detective skills. And pleased with the overly sugary tea, which he accepts eagerly.

He too would like less invasion of his dreams. So he says "Don't do it again," as if Murmur has any control over it.

Thank goodness he's not bright enough to put the rest of it together. Murmur will let him believe he's done some excellent deduction in this case if it keeps him from asking too many questions. Yes, good, enjoy your sugar water. Murmur's just going to take his and go lean against a counter where he can try to pretend he doesn't exist for a moment.

Or stare flatly at Mammon. "Were that the choice was mine to make." He grumbled sourly. As though he enjoyed this somehow! "This dreaming thing is wholly unpleasant, do humans do it often?"

He's happy: he feels smart and his hot sugar water is better than the tea he gets at home. Lucifer loves to focus on fine tea's subtle flavors and fragrances, so Mammon never gets an overload of sugar from teatime.

"Humans?" He gives Murmur a confused look. "Yeah. Every night, just like everyone else."

Murmur prefers to enjoy the complexity of tea as well, but he's not about to refuse letting Mammon ruin it for himself. That's up to him. Honestly he did wonder after having actually put the tea in if he couldn't get away with just brewing sugar water, but he won't. That would be too rude.

"Hm," Murmur makes a face. "I think I would like to continue passing on that particular experience." Does Mammon dream? Evidently so, as he seemed confused by the question.

Mammon may have the attitude of a child but he's not that much of a child. Even with his talent for missing the point he would've noticed no tea in his mug. Training wheels are one thing, but he'd notice being sat on a tricycle.

"Whaddaya mean? You don't want more nightmares?" He blinks. "What, d'you not normally have 'em?"

Fortunately it's not an experiment Murmur's willing to try on him right now. He'd probably notice that much... after a few sips at least. Truth be told he didn't have the energy at the moment to be a troll. Maybe another time.

He rose an eyebrow. "No, I don't. In fact I don't normally dream. Nor sleep." He sipped his tea. "I can only assume this change is also due to whatever afflicts Navi and the staff." They have been quiet since this started, he should go check in. They're probably asleep too.

There will be plenty of time to test Mammon's stupidity in the future. Murmur can probably figure out some amazing trolling, but for now the sugary tea has been accepted as a peace offering, even if that wasn't quite the spirt in which it was given.

"...Then what do you do all night?"

Oh, and it will be tested. Not constantly, that would be boring, but when the opportunities arise. It wasn't, but he'll accept it as such for the time being. If it keeps Mammon from being any more annoying than his normal behavior it's a small blessing.

"...I watch."

Somehow he feels like that's going to be taken creepily. It is kind of creepy, but no one likes that being pointed out!

Mammon does a double-take. The look on his face cements what Murmur was afraid of.

"...That's what you wanna do instead of dreamin'?"

Man, angels are even weirder than he remembered.

"Given that I am not typically capable of such things, yes."

He states flatly, sipping his own tea as icily as he can manage. Despite the weariness, this whole sleep thing was really throwing him off his game. Didn't like it, would like to go back to not doing it. Thanks.

Yes, Murmur is an especially weird angel.

"Ya should be! I remember in the Celestial Realm --" Mammon stops himself and refuses to continue talking. Maybe it was unfair but he didn't really want to give his own experience away in exchange for Murmur's.

"You can definitely sleep," he says instead. "Try it. It ain't all nightmares, and it's a lot less creepy than watching people."

Edited (phrasing (boom)) 2020-11-25 03:28 (UTC)

"I will not explain myself to you, think what you will."

He was already bored of what was undoubtedly to become a circular argument of nuh-uh, uh-huh, should he continue to entertain actually talking to the imbecile. It was clear both their physiology and tendency for aggression were significantly different. So much so Murmur was absolutely convinced they were from different universes.

Somehow he doubts Mammon as he is now would survive long in his.

"No." Was all he had to say for the latter part. Just no.

"I think you can sleep but you're too scared." Those detective skills are on point today, he's sure of it. He smiles smugly over his cup of tea. "You know sleeping ain't the same thing as sloth, right?" Sloth also required laziness -- and sometimes complete disinterest in the waking world. Belphegor played it like that a lot.

"Can't believe you're that scared of nightmares," he adds, as if he wasn't up half the night after seeing through Murmur's eyes.

"I believe I have made my stance clear. I will speak no further on the subject."

Not even a little. Murmur is more than familiar with horror, terror, misery and death. He has felt the visceral fear of Creation itself being torn asunder. Few things could ever compare to that. So no, nightmares didn't bother him.

He spoke honestly, yet was both ignored and assumed to be lying.

Must be Tuesday.

Mammon has seen horrible things too, but unlike Murmur he has the luxury of distracting himself. He skirts around terror or runs from it, throwing himself eagerly into whatever new opportunity presents itself instead. It may be stupid, but it was better than being afraid. That's why he doesn't dwell on the dream and draws only the most basic of erroneous conclusions.

"Yeah yeah, I get it," he smiles. "Is the creeping thing your job or do ya do it for fun?"

Honestly the less Mammon actually knows the better. Thus it has always been, so it shall continue to be. After so many millenia of allowing others to think what they want while Murmur guided them precisely where he wanted them to be by incident or "accident" alike, this was more comfortable. Genuine connections didn't exist.

He should really keep it that way.

At the question he just fixed his gaze on Mammon, but now he wore the strangest conspiratorial smile. Chilling, almost predatory.

"Why not both?"

Funnily enough Murmur's not the first person to have that thought. Not that it's too difficult to keep him in the dark. He's only good at sniffing out hidden things if they're made of precious metals.

And this is working, it's at least making Mammon believe Murmur is just extremely weird.

"Eh -- you don't have hobbies, do you?"

Fortunately the self-absorbed are quite easy to misdirect. Mammon is no different. The weirder Mammon thinks he is the easier it'll be go get him to not bother sniffing around too much. Just let the crazy old man yell at clouds and burn parsley.

He just shrugs simply. "That counts as a hobby." Maybe not but he's also not going to tell Mammon about his clockworks lest he go about trying to steal them.

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event } a dream is a wish your traitor brain makes

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