i think to myself

[handsomefoil]

WHO? henry & you
WHAT? dream stuff, ota
WHEN? when the hotspots spread
ANYTHING ELSE? mostly violence

[dream log 01]

You wake up in the middle of a tranquil field, muted and chilly but covered in delicate white flowers. The ground slopes gently where a small stream cuts through the grass. The sky is a greyish blue, like it might start snowing any second. Next to you, Henry is shivering, like he's sick and grumbling under his breath like he's experiencing a nightmare. A dream within a dream?

It's only when he awakes with a start that the dream seems to move forward.

"What the—?"

In the distance, there's a mechanical sound of...something. Maybe it's footsteps? Either way, it's getting closer, and she looks ready to rumble. Wait, she? Yes, she. This time, she's not alone, however. Behind her, like a nightmare train of anime and terrible boss fights (he's pretty sure he sees Pizza Batt Jr. in there somewhere), they bubble out from underground and follow her towards the both of you. It's not too bad, there's like ten of them.

"Oh bloody hell," he gets up, then looks down at you with resigned sort of sigh. "Come on, get up. They're not going to leave us alone until we kill them all."


If you want to go back to the other side, I have no choice... I've got to kill you.

[dream log 02]

You're in a house, it's about 10PM. Henry seems to be in a rush to get his things in order: gloves on, tie straight, skull pin fastened, and making sure his cross saber is fastened to his belt chain. He pats himself down, making sure he hasn't forgotten anything and then flicks his head in the direction of the door. If you make any noise above the sound of a whisper, he'll hiss at you with a finger in front of his lips.

Once the door opens though, a small, sleepy voice comes down from the top of the stairs. She's not entirely visible, as the hallway is dark and obscures her from the shoulders up. From her silhouette alone, she appears to be 6-7 years old.

"Papa?"

Henry freezes, then lets his shoulders sag a little in defeat. He gives you a brief flash of an apologetic look (or depending on how loud you were earlier, a bit of an accusatory one) and turns to her.

"Jeane, why aren't you in bed?"

She shifts a little, almost guiltily, going silent before taking a small breath to answer...

(ooc: feel free to npc her, any reply is a-ok. it's dreamverse, after all!)

[dream log 03]

A younger man, in his late teens, sits rigidly in a chair in the middle of a room. It is unmistakably Henry. His hairstyle is the same and he's dressed in a dress shirt with a tie, slacks, and dress shoes. The walls are a soft reddish pink color, easy on the eyes. You stand right across from him, a good twenty feet away.

From seemingly nowhere, a young girl wearing a white, slip-on dress possibly no older than 15 approaches Henry from the side with a small dagger in her hand. She seems very casual about it, a smile on her face, her heels clacking on the floor which is also the same color as the walls. She acknowledges your presence by glancing at you over her shoulder with a knowing look in her eyes.

She eases into his lap, straddling him while letting the blade drag up his neck. He doesn't react, his eyes only flickering down to meet her eyes and maybe catch yours if you're still watching. A thin, red line forms, and while you can't physically see it from there, dream logic dictates that you know exactly what's going on.

The longer you wait, the more lines she cuts into his skin.

[hotspot 01]

He fell asleep by the training area, sitting on a bench of sorts to take a quick break from his sets. Sweating profusely, it's a good thing he's wearing only what he needs for a work out. Unlike his sleeping dreamself, he doesn't make any noise or stir too much, though sometimes his eyebrows pinch together and he grimaces in his sleep.

Any slight noise wakes him though with a start, and his hand automatically goes down by his hip where his saber would normally be resting. Nothing. A wave of panic washes over him before immediately settling again as he realizes he's just sitting on the bench.

"Jesus..."

Comments

dream 03!!

[withimagination]

Eames blinks, suddenly somewhere different and trying to adapt quickly. The room is quiet, soft. It's always strange to be in someone else's dream, feeling like an intruder. It has to be Henry across from him, he thinks, mouth parting in confusion. He steps forward-

But then the girl approaches, and he closes his mouth and stops in his tracks, watching her carefully, puzzled... until he sees the dagger. Even then, it takes him a second longer than it should to work out that she's going to use it on Henry.

"Henry," he breathes, watching her drag the dagger over his neck. And then Henry looks at him, a red line forming on his neck, and Eames panics. "Henry!"

He's quick, suddenly there, reaching for her wrist to pull the dagger away from him.

chinhands.. eames... u knight in shining armour

[handsomefoil]

Sylvia's eyes flash, once sweet and soft hazel, now a murderous golden. Her iron grip on the blade remains, but she is certainly not strong enough to rip away from Eames' grip.

"Hey, wait—" The sound of his voice is soft, almost pleading as he continues to stare up at Sylvia. His hands finally unfreeze from the chair and the rest on her legs, as if trying to make sure if she's real or not.

"Wait... leave her alone."

His neck continues to trickle blood slowly.

well stop being a difficult damsel, henry!!

[withimagination]

He can't take the dagger from her hand, but Henry could run, he could -

Eames looks down at him with wide eyes. Of all the things he thought Henry might say... that... that was not one of them.

"I..." He can't do that. There's no way he's doing that. "No! Henry, get away right now!"

And he moves to drag her off him, his right hand still gripped tightly around her wrist. "Why are you doing this?!" he can't help but grunt in her direction, confused and a little terrified for Henry.

never!!!!! dramatic turn

[handsomefoil]

The young Henry is completely enamored by the woman hurting him, and if he were to awake and analyze this dream, he'd concur that it's pretty accurate. She's lost quite a bit of her charm now, but back then, he was wrapped around her pinky.

He doesn't listen, naturally, as his expression starting to finally bleed through and form on his once stoic face. It's a bit of panic and confusion, as he clings to her weakly.

"Stop—"

Sylvia stops struggling as Eames drags her off, seemingly OK with being pried away from Henry all of a sudden. Her limbs go a little slack and instead of a young girl, it's now a full grown woman. Twisting around in his grip, she manages to face him. Her eyes narrow, predatory, and she presses herself against him before leaning in close to his ear.

"Because I can, silly."

Maybe Henry's subconscious interpretation of why Sylvia does what she does is a little dramatic (he'd blame the break-up)... but it's probably not entirely wrong. He's probably the only person that knows her best besides her own parents. Her knife hand is still in his grip, but it's very clear that she intends on stabbing him if he lets go.

B(

[withimagination]

He doesn't pay Henry much attention except a confused look. He doesn't understand his attachment to her, the relationship there. It's kind of disturbing, whatever the dream means, and he's curious to find out.

They just keep saying disturbing things, and therefore Eames is positive that him pulling away from her is a natural reaction. Unfortunately, it looses his hold on her wrist.

[handsomefoil]

Ah, an opening. Even Henry sees it, as fingers part ever so slightly and giver her slender wrists just enough room to wrench herself out of it. Her expression is cool and pleasant, eyelids heavy as she smiles at him while raising her arm, dagger pointed down. It comes down swiftly, planting itself halfway into Eames' shoulder.

In that instant, Henry gets up out of his chair and he's no longer a teenager. Before Sylvia can strike again, he grabs her arm and pulls her off of Eames. He looks a little dazed, like he'd just snapped out of a trance.

[withimagination]

As it is, as quick as Eames' reflexes are, they're not this quick. The knife sinks halfway into his shoulder, and he gasps in pain, pulling back just as Henry pulls Sylvia off him, which wrenches the dagger out of his shoulder. He cries out at that, putting a hand to his wound. It's only a dream. It's okay...

Eames looks pretty dazed, too, surprised to see that his rescuer is all grown up. "Henry. Try to make her disappear. You're in control."

If this dream even follows the rules of dream sharing, it might work. Or Eames could kill her. That seems unnecessarily traumatic for Henry, though.

02

[pointedlook]

As Henry gets ready, double-checks himself, Arthur remains silent. He's made quiet middle of the night exits before and he isn't about to interrupt. For a moment, he just stands in the low light of the foyer by the door, takes in the details of the house. It's nice. From his vantage point, he can see into a living room, where there's a throw blanket tossed over the back of the couch. On top of it sits a toy of some sort, stuffed and button eyes looking back sadly.

He doesn't remember how he got here.

Except, as Henry rustles around, he backtracks. The inside of the house is warm, like sitting in some kind of sunlit patch. A view of the base hallway hovers in his mind and it clicks into place.

The quiet and sleepy voice of a young girl shakes him out of his thought process and he looks up sharply, catches sight of her illuminated bottom half, clad in cute purple pajamas. She's rubbing sleep out of her eyes.

"Papa, are you going?"

It's said with an unsure tremble and she takes a few more steps forward. Shadows still obscure her face. All at once, Arthur feels like he knows this scene– he's had Philippa ask Uncle Arthur, do you have to go? Somehow, he wants to swap places with Henry so he doesn't have to leave, dream or no dream.

[handsomefoil]

A look towards Arthur as if asking for just one minute. He obviously doesn't know what's going through Arthur's mind at the time.

"Yes, Jeane," he replies, taking a few steps up the stairs. The faster he meets her halfway, the faster he can convince her to go to bed. "I have to go, it's work."

It's not entirely a lie, but it's not the reason he's sneaking out of the house right now. This scene, this dream, always plays out a little differently each time he has it. Sometimes his dream-self realizes when he's dreaming.

He kneels in front of her to bring himself down at her height. Her face is still obscured by shade, gold strands of hair flickering in and out when she shakes her head while asking more questions. Murmuring promises he'll never keep, coaxing her back up the stairs to get her beauty sleep just like her mother, Jeane finally seems to agree and nods her head slowly. She trudges back up the stairs, reluctant, but soon she is out of sight and Henry is quickly going down the stairs again and brushes past Arthur out the door.

[pointedlook]

He has no problems giving Henry time. At his look, he nods, lets him go to his daughter to say goodbye.

From here, it's hard to track the conversation, but he has a good idea of what it sounds like. Hushed assurances that he'll be back, even if it's never a promise. Not when Henry's got a career in assassination. That paints a giant target on his back– Jeane is too young to know that. She shouldn't be privy to it.

When he glances up again, Jeane's going back into her room, light weight barely making the floor creak as she does. Henry comes down the stairs in a rush, goes right past him through the front door. Arthur follows less quickly, shuts the door with a soft click.

"How often do you see her?"

[handsomefoil]

His steps slow down just a little bit, as if waiting for Arthur. It's not that he needs the company, or at least he tells himself he doesn't, but just leaving a guest in his headspace in the dust like that seemed a little rude.

"Hm, the times in between visits vary."

Depends on the job, depends on the day, what's coming up, if he was feeling ready that day to face her and her questions only to fail her once again...

He's aware of his idiocy, he should do more, but always puts it off. By then, weeks go by and the wider the gap grows the more he worries. To avoid those worries, he buries himself further into finding work, keep him busy, fulfill whatever weird meta destiny he had back in his world.

"A real piece of work, I am." He mumbles it under his breath. Dream-selves are prone to being more open, it seems.

[pointedlook]

Of course it varies. With a demanding career like his. He thinks of Cobb's demanding hours prior to the great escape. How he'd cut back on those simply so he could enjoy his time home with his family. Otherwise, he'd be in the office constantly, building and drafting.

He frowns at Henry's back.

"Is there a reason you don't stick around?"

[handsomefoil]

He scoffs, though perhaps it's a more self-deprecating sound than anything.

"Mm, kids, curious little buggers that ask too many questions. Much more perceptive than what people give 'em credit for."

Then he just makes a sort of vague, general gesture at himself.

"You saw her," he continues on, "She isn't meant for my kind of world, no sense in exposing her to that bloody mess...and I can't give that up, either."

02 i need it

[crownless]

"Papa... where are you and Uncle going?"

And, for whatever logic is applying to this dream, it makes sense. The realization that Henry has a daughter seems to breeze right over him like it's a fact he's known all his life-- or all her short life, rather-- and Travis only spares a sidelong glance for Henry to see if he'll say something first.

When he doesn't, he takes his chance.

He zips up his jacket, a wine-dark red in his mind's eye right now, and lowers his voice. (Because, of course, he'd been the one making all the noise only a few short moments before.)

"We're goin' out, sweetheart," he murmurs, reaching out to ruffle Jeane's hair. She wrinkles her nose, whining in soft protest. "Just for a bit, all right? Your dad and me have to take care of an errand."

He nudges Henry with his elbow.

"Right, Pops?"

[muffled henry screams]

[handsomefoil]

He doesn't even bother hiding the scathing look he directs at Travis's back when he's reassuring Jeane of their location. It disappears immediately though when attention is directed back at him. There's really no other way to respond lest Jeane grow suspicious (he doesn't take children's observance and intelligence lightly, especially Jeane) so he nods.

"That's right, Jeane. Now hurry on back to bed."

She looks between the two of them briefly, hands balled up together in front of her, but she finally nods her head. Then to Travis, her uncle that totally spoils her, she waves him closer like she wants to tell him a secret.

:^)

[crownless]

He spoils her rotten and her dad better believe it. Travis shrugs, nonchalant: it worked on her, or so it seems, so Henry should be satisfied with it, right? She's a clever kid-- even if he's not quite sure how he knows this-- but she knows they're busy enough. With what... well, she doesn't need to know that much now. Or ever.

"Yeah?"

Travis crouches lower so he's at Jeane's level.

"'Sup, kid?" Travis gives Henry one last glance before he turns his attention back to the young girl.

[handsomefoil]

"Can I have a caramel? Please?"

She tacks the please on right after, remembering her manners. It's barely a whisper, her hands cupped around his ear so that papa over there won't scold her for wanting candy.

Henry waits patiently, but now he's suspicious about what Jeane wants from Travis. His gut instinct tells him it's probably candy. That child has a really vicious sweet tooth.

"Jeane, say goodnight to your uncle." The rest is said in french, mostly to keep Travis in the dark about his impatience until the last minute.

[crownless]

He looks left, right, then up at Henry... before he oh-so-discreetly stuffs a hand in his pocket to dig out a wax-wrapped caramel candy.

"You're like a bloodhound, Jeane." He snorts, and presses a kiss to the crown of the little girl's blonde head before rising to his feet again. "How's it go, again? Bien nuit?" It's wrong. At least he tried. "Get outta here."

The metal ring, holding his katana to his belt fast, jingles slightly when Travis steps back.

"What d'you say, Papa? 'Bout time we got out of here, too."

[handsomefoil]

Jeane takes the candy with glee, barely masking that bright smile on her face as she hides it behind her back. She stares straight up at Henry, as if trying to see if he caught her... which, he did. Yeah, she's a little too obvious about how pleased she is with the gift. He doesn't say anything though, just smiling at her a little like he just decided to give up and let her have her candy.

As Travis dismisses her, she giggles and runs back up the stairs, feet pounding against carpet and hearing the soft click of her door when she's back in her bedroom.

"Come on."

He tilts his head towards the door and exits the house, slowly realizing this isn't real when he steps outside. His memory of Travis doesn't go back this far, and his presence is too loud to even entertain the idea that he might've been there. Thus, this is a dream. A mean one, at that.

Time 2 kinkshame (3)

[rippedoff]

For a brief period of time, Shinobu wonders if she wandered into an Akashic point somehow as her eyes meet with a pinkish-red color, similar to the color of Sylvia's office, when the terms of Shinobu's service were laid out for her. However, that theory is immediately dashed as she spots a lone figure in a chair. Squinting her eyes, for a moment, she notes a resemblance to Henry — but this guy seemed younger than even her. Was this a younger version? Some kind of fucking weird dream?

Before she can open her mouth to say something, though, she's brought back to silence as another teenaged woman entered the scene. Her brows furrow as she looks over her shoulder to her. Sylvia was already a pain in the ass to deal with, but the idea of dealing with a younger version was already filling Shinobu with annoyance. Once the younger version started to settle in his lap, though, Shinobu's eyes roll.

"Did I come at a bad time?" Shinobu asks with a tone of sarcasm, pivoting herself to try to make a leave. Before she can fully turn away, though, she pauses as she watches Sylvia cut into Henry's neck. Perhaps if anyone were present, Shinobu's look of utter exasperation would be comical. She winds up staring longer than she ever wanted to, watching as she drags the dagger up his skin again.

Shinobu didn't really have a reason to care much about Henry and normally wouldn't care if he wanted to die like this, if he really wanted it. However, there was a more annoying voice inside of her trying to reason that she might want to try to rescue the brother of Travis from himself. She wondered why she was even doing Travis any favors, at this point, but that voice wound up winning out anyway. A long, drawn out sigh escapes her, as she speaks up again.

"You guys about done yet?" The annoyance is evident in the delivery. Yes, this is the extent of help she's starting out with.

HFDJKDF LET HIM DIE

[handsomefoil]

Sylvia seems content to just continue what she's doing to Henry, as he remains as stone-faced as ever throughout this entire weird-ass ritual. He continues to bleed from each shallow cut, seeping into his clothes, staining his pressed white shirt with an angry red.

She still does look over her shoulder whenever Shinobu speaks, but since the dream intruder isn't doing much to stop her, she doesn't present herself as a threat. Yet. When Shinobu turns to address them yet again, Sylvia's dagger stops and she looks over her shoulder again.

"Silly girl," she coos, her tone belittling and cloyingly sweet all at once. "You can't stop me."

Henry's finger twitches in his lap, like a patient stuck in a coma showing tell-tale signs of someone who can still hear and see and feel.

[rippedoff]

The way Shinobu's mouth thins as her head pulls back from Sylvia's response is pretty reminiscent of a pissy cat, but Shinobu finds it pointless to actually say anything back. Looks like literally nothing had changed about Sylvia since her teen years, or at least nothing from this dream version of her.

At the lack of response from Henry, though, Shinobu looks past Henry to try to figure out if he was actually into this or not. However, her inspection only really revealed that he was in some sort of vegetive state – neither enjoying nor hating this. She sighs again, getting the feeling that this situation was about to get a lot more annoying than she wanted it to be.

"Hey, you mind waking up, over there?" Shinobu directs toward Henry, still being generally unhelpful as she places a hand on her hip. She could just stab Sylvia, but even in dream world, it really wasn't worth the effort to kill her.

[handsomefoil]

Sylvia scratches another slow line down Henry's skin, cutting through his shirt on his shoulder this time. It's a languid and bored sort of act, as if she was just trying to pass the time. Sorry Shinobu that he's so useless right now. He's trying his best though, because at that moment, he gasps a little.

Maybe it's Sylvia's mood or something about an intruder in his dream that slowly shakes him out of it, but he finally manages eye contact.

"I'm... I'm awake— shit," he says with a shivering quality to his words. The pain of the small scratches all over his upper body has him a bit startled, but he breathes quickly. As he comes to a little more, he's looking at Sylvia then back at Shinobu. "What's this...?"

He sounds almost pathetically young, considering he's still in his 17-year old body.

[rippedoff]

"God, finally." It was getting to the point where Shinobu thought she was going to have to physically save him, but it was kind of assassin culture to not interfere with another assassin's problems – doing so was more of an insult than anything. She's still scowling a little, though, when Henry asks what was even happening. "I dunno, you tell me."

Looking at the scene, though, it was looking more and more pathetic to her liking – it was bordering on sad and she didn't like that. "Actually, don't. I don't care about this S&M shit. Do you want me to get you out of here or not?"

[handsomefoil]

Bless you Shinobu, he'd honestly be very glad. It's already embarrassing enough as it is being stuck in such a vulnerable position with a 14-year old version of your ex-wife sitting in your 17-year old lap. If Shinobu had to physically save him? Yeah, whew, blow to the pride for that one. Probably more so from her because she probably knows who he is by now (or at least where he's from) and he knows her too, and fellow assassins seeing each other like this is always going to be ten kinds of awkward.

It seems Henry's attitude and awareness of this dream is altering the contents of it, as Sylvia suddenly grows into her adult body and yet seems less and less 'there'. Like a doll or something.

"Ugh, just get her off me. Can't move my arms just yet."