why does the eye see a thing more clearly in dreams [open]

[thirdwisestar]

🧙 WHO: Caesar & all the dreamers of Avalon.
⚔️️ WHAT: Caesar's brand new magic takes him for an unwanted stroll through the dreams of many.
🕒 WHEN: First few nights after arriving.
🗺️ WHERE: ~in your dreams ooo~ and also the breakfast at the hotel later on.
⚠️ WARNINGS: Caesar will recall a lot of the dreams he sees while others may remember as much or as little of him being there as players wish. Just a heads up in case there's anything you'd prefer he not find out from the get-go. Otherwise, they're dreams, some might get scary.

I. DREAM A LITTLE DREAM

[ A long day of processing an entire new world, a whole new set of technology, that he has magic, of all things, and all the rest, it's exhausting and a total headache for Caesar and he would, of course, rather be sleeping than dealing with it. Naturally, that's exactly what he does as soon as he gets to the quaint little inn — or hotel, whatever — room he's been given. Now if only the cat stalking him around would buzz off but that she follows him around, staring at him, is honestly cat-like enough that it doesn't weird him out too much.

Cats do that. Don't they? He's almost certain they do, though he does try a few times to shove the thing off the bed before giving up. She only keeps jumping back onto the mattress and laying down, sprawling out to take up one whole side of the bed, much to Caesar's scowling but fine. She can have it. He'll close his eyes and drift off and not have to think about her again until way past breakfast time, he's sure.

Or he was sure... until falling asleep does the total opposite of what he'd been expecting. Caesar closes his eyes to the waking world only to open them again in that of the sleeping one, the dreaming one. No hotel room surrounds him here, only indistinct shapes and sounds, galaxy-like clouds lazily swirling around far overhead.

And the cat. That damn cat.]

Already here, are we? I should have known someone so lazy would be a natural at this part of his magic.

[ The cat's voice booms far above Caesar. Here, she isn't cat-sized whatsoever but a towering cat, fur wild and waving in some unfelt wind, the reddish points and highlights of her fur from the real world blazing with fire here. Caesar will feel at least some relief, in retrospect, that he didn't scream or cower at the sight, though he does gape. ]

Where are we?!

[ He demands, pushing himself up to sit and look around them. This isn't real. It can't be. It's just a dream of his own, caused by stress or something, or— ]

Oh, it's real enough. [ His familiar answers with great amusement, knowing exactly what's running through his head thanks to their bond. ] But hardly dangerous. Consider it your first lesson. Let's see how you do!

[ And before Caesar can even ask what she means by that, he turns back to find a great flaming cat paw swinging towards him. He tries to struggle to his feet, to get out of the way, but it's for naught. He doesn't feel the paw itself but he does feel the force of his familiar's magic sweeping him up and shoving him, sending him stumbling out of his own dreamscape and into—

Well, into someone else's. Wherever they are, whatever they're dreaming about, whatever they're in the middle of doing, they're about to find a short, flustered teenaged boy stumbling directly into them without so much as a warning apart from Caesar's own startled shout seconds before impact. ]

II. THE WORST PART OF WAKING UP

[ The worst part Caesar will claim about learning to dream walk is that, despite technically being asleep the whole time, he wakes up even more tired than ever before. He hates it. He hates it! How is that fair? How doe that make any sense?! But he doesn't even have the energy to kick up a fuss and complain immediately after, down at the hotel's continental breakfast.

That he's awake for it is a miracle.

Only he isn't actually awake for it at all, not really. He managed to drag himself downstairs to it and get a bowl of cereal but by the time he's seated, spoon in hand to poke suspiciously at the cereal bobbing mysteriously in all that milk, he's nodding off. Perhaps someone wants to prod him back awake before he faceplants directly into his breakfast?

Or maybe he's been recognized. Maybe someone whose dream he flitted through — whether it be without pause, only a slight glimpse of him caught, or with him having meddled directly. Surely he won't be the only one remembering faces from all those late-night travels, nor the only one left with questions to pester the exhausted redhead with. ]

[ OOC NOTE: Will respond in like to brackets or prose, so feel free to use what you want. o/ ]

Comments

Ys IX spoilers

[notquitetamed]

[So the first thing Caesar will feel upon happening into this dream is the feeling of a darkness that is threatening to consume him and a need fight something to get rid of it. He's welcome to recognize that the person whose dream this is would be the one feeling this.

The next thing is that he's inside a cave. It seems to be a tunnel inside a mountain and there are plenty of monsters to be found here along with a great view at the top. A blonde haired man is ahead of him and he's finding the rough terrain to be no issue. He quickly dispatches any monsters he runs across with twin blades before continuing. There are spots where there are gaps too large to jump over or walls that wouldn't be able to be climbed normally. Caesar will be able to see the man ahead of him suddenly jump high up and sprout wings to get over the gaps and then he'll just run up the walls. Caesar will be able to feel he can do the exact same thing. Dream logic at least is being generous and sharing some gifts along with increased stamina and durability so this exploration will be doable even for someone not in the best physical shape.]

I don't know who you are, but if you can't keep up I'm gonna leave you to be monster chow.

[thirdwisestar]

[ Creepy tunnel full of mountains? Gee, this sure reminds him of somewhere. Somewhere he'd rather get back to, to be honest, but that's neither here nor there. ]

You can't possibly expect me to fly after you.

[ Caesar complains as he climbs back to his feet after his abrupt arrival and inevitable tumble and proceeds to give the man one hugely unimpressed look for the very suggestion. He feels what the dream is offering him, the idea picking at the back of his thoughts, but a logical mind rebels in the face of a dream's sheer absurdity. In that, he has a lot to learn about walking through dreams.

Because him? Sprout wings like this guy? Who is it trying to fool?! ]

I've never flown in my all of my life...

[notquitetamed]

[Well one thing is for sure, there's a tunnel leading out to the side of the mountain ahead of Hawk and behind Caesar it's a long ways down.]

So? You share the gifts of the Monstrums now. That means you get wings too.

[eightfoldfiend]

(cw: violent imagery)

[Yuber is not normally a dreamer. He is not normally a sleeper. In his long life he'd only ever bothered to take naps to make time go by more quickly.

It's been centuries since he properly dreamed. Now, as he closes his eyes he drifts away into a sleep of exhaustion and into a stress-scarred nightmare.

He stands at the edge of a cliff overlooking a battlefield littered with the mangled bodies of the dead. The battlefield seems to stretch for an eternity before him and the smell of blood drenched earth makes him feel dizzy with hunger. His cravings are intense enough that it takes him a moment to notice that the crimson sky seems heavy. It almost seems like the heavens are pressed too closely against the ground.

He takes a tentative step towards the edge of the cliff, eager to breathe more of that sweet scent, then feels something stumble against his back. If his body control were any worse he might have been sent sprawling over the ledge.

Instead he remains rigid and unmoved until he shifts around and looks down at the teenager now lying at his boots. The boy is familiar but he can't find a name for the face amidst the dream-like confusion in his head.

To Caesar, Yuber may not be recognizable. He is wearing ornate, jewel-studded armor and a helm with curved horns that covers the upper half of his face. From beneath the helmet long, golden hair spills out nearly to his waist.]

Curious.

[At first that is all he says. His voice, always deep even in the waking world, rumbles enough to be felt in the bones.]

[thirdwisestar]

[ Sprawled at the feet of one of the Destroyers is low on the list of places he's ever wanted to be. While Yuber's actual name remains a mystery to him, even the armor isn't enough to disguise who he is. As if Caesar hadn't memorized the faces and voices of his brother's allies the best he could, to keep an eye out for them, to watch their movements when he could, and try to figure them out. Rare enough occasions and typically only while everyone was engaged on the field of battle.

A field of battle not entirely unlike this one but... not this bad. The earth underhand is churned up, muddy from the desperate back and forth of too many booted feet vying for supremacy over their enemy, fighting for their lives. He doesn't want to think about how red it looks. The ground, the sky, all of it, everything, and so he focuses on lifting his head and doing his best to meet Yuber's gaze.

Get up, don't stay down here, he silently yells at himself. He's a Silverberg! He can't be thrown by such a charnel mess strewn all around him! ]

Curious? [ He asks with a reasonably convincing amount of calm, thoughts pushing him to act as he does, in fact, push himself up and climb to his feet. ] Care to be more specific? There's a lot I'd call curious around here.

[eightfoldfiend]

[From beneath the visor, Yuber coldly regards the boy, then looks up along the cliff.]

Your presence is curious, little Dreamwalker. I've wandered this battlefield for centuries and haven't seen you before.

[His body goes still but only for a moment. Something tickles at the corner of his mind, causing him to wheel in place and stare into the horizon. Nothing has changed but he has a sense that a shadow is slowly drifting across the mountains, searching...

Always searching...]

He's here...

I can hear his star twinkling!

[Then he's walking past Caesar.]

Come with me. We must move now before he smells my colors.

Eff yeah, more suikoden!

[wherethewindtakesme]

[At least this dream that Caesar has stumbled into seems to be a pleasant one. It seems to be in a classroom of some kind. There's a girl in the corner working on a sculpture and a young man is working on a painting.

He looks up at Caesar entering the room.]

Hey, did you bring the models with you? Or couldn't you get the fruit from the cooking club?

all the suikoden!

[thirdwisestar]

[ And onward into the next, hoping for something better and finding— ]

Did I what?

[ Caesar had paused a moment to recover his footing, having caught himself against a desk before once again meeting any sort of floor or ground with his face. Dream face. Look, whatever it is, he's found it still manages to smart, okay? Anyway, a quick glance around to take in his new surroundings and he can already feel some of the previous stress bleeding out of how he holds himself.

A classroom.

An art one, too, he immediately decides. There's enough tells here to point to that and as his attention settles on the young man with his painting, he supposes he might be in charge. ]

Oh. Models. No. I wasn't able to find any.

[ Because he never even tried, having just arrived, but Caesar can't see much point in telling a dreaming person he's lost. It's not as though they can point him to the way back out. ]

[wherethewindtakesme]

Hmmm. They must have used the fruit already. That's all right. Have a seat and try working on your sketch.

[Gaius considers his painting again before a thought occurs to him. Who was this person again? His dream brain thinks of a logical conclusion.]

You were interested in seeing what we have in the art club, weren't you? My name's Gaius Worzel.

[ofsilverflame]

Sunlight streams through the branches of an old tree in the garden Caesar finds himself in. The sounds of a city can be heard distantly, but muted, and faded. The architecture of the surrounding buildings suggests Vinay del Zexay.

"Oh, hello." A cheerful, young voice calls to him from behind. At a small table, laden with tea and cakes, sits a young girl in a green dress with silver hair and pale violet eyes, watching him curiously.

"It is generally considered polite to give advance notice if one plans to attend a tea party." She says with the haughtiness of a child. "But I suppose we have enough to spare. You may sit, if you like. We're just waiting for our last guest to arrive."

There are two other chairs, and she motions to one.

[thirdwisestar]

An old tree shading him from the sun, the fresh smell and cool feel of grass at his back and all around him. Now, this was a dream Caesar could get behind. It was one where he might decide to stubbornly remain, catching a nap while already asleep, if only to spite his familiar. It's not to be, however, as a voice calls to him and he's left to groan inwardly that, of course, there'd be another dreamer here.

"Great," he sighs and sits up, only to behold a little girl and her fancy little tea party. Something immediately nags at him, how familiar the girl in the green dress looks. "I find that advanced notice ruins the element of surprise, so you'll simply have to accept that."

Would that even make any sense to her? Likely not but it isn't his problem. It's with great regret that he leaves the comfortable grassy ground to walk over to the table instead.

"Who else did you invite? Not a giant teddy bear, I hope."

Or a unicorn or pixies or— who even knows. It's difficult not to expect a wildly imaginary guest to come bumbling along through the garden at any moment given the circumstances.

[ofsilverflame]

The child gives Caesar a pointedly unamused look as he walks over; one that probably seems frustratingly familiar in addition to her features. "Please do not be foolish, my good man." She says, taking care to properly enunciate each word like a true lady would. "This is an important social event." A giant teddy bear. Of all the foolishness!

As he seats himself at the table, she raises the teapot and carefully, with practiced poise that belies her years, pours a drink into the fine porcelain cup before him. She has to reach a bit to do it, and despite herself her tongue sticks out just a bit in concentration, but it seems like it would be a bad idea to offer help. Once that's done she sets back, and glances past him, towards the gate that leads out.

"We're waiting for my father." She adds, after a moment. "He should be joining us any moment now, I think. Sugar?" She goes to reach for a bowl of sugarcubes to offer Caesar.

I. here there be pirates

[firesinthesky]

[ Limsa Lominsa is a lovely city, white spires jutting up out of the sea, alive with chatter and activity from her bustling docks to her aetheryte plaza, to even the high towers where restaurants, taverns, and guilds make their home.

A shame, then, that Caesar ends up in her back alleys instead, where it’s grimy and dark and shrouded in shadow. Blaze isn’t quite certain where this young man came from - he seemed to appear out of thin air, but what she does know is he’s standing between her and the pirate captain skulking away further down the alley. Her mind boggles for a second, trying to work around the sudden disruption to the flow of the dream. She’d been alone but a second ago… or had she? Gods, she doesn’t mind helping the rookies, but sometimes they pull stupid shite like this.

A massive hand closes on Caesar’s shoulder and she pulls him to her side, crouched behind a stack of old crates. ]

I told you to keep to the shadows.

arrrrr pirates

[thirdwisestar]

[ A massive hand that's met with a startled jump, one easily felt through the shoulder that Blaze has touched. Someone hadn't even noticed her back there and that's obvious enough when Caesar whips his head around to look back at her, eyes wide for a second or two before he settles again. He'd been so intent on trying to pinpoint where he is now and who was lurking off ahead of him that he hadn't even realized...

Ah. Big lady, though. At least she isn't threatening him, so there's that. ]

You did?

[firesinthesky]

[ Blaze cuts him a bit of an exasperated look, a teacher clearly nearing the end of her rope. Her dream has apparently decided to insert him into the narrative, and her moment of earlier confusion is all but forgotten, instead she finds herself wondering if this boy was ready for a foray into the field after all. ]

You got sand in those wattles of yours, colt? Stick close and stay out of sight. Our man’s getting away.

[ Down the alley, the distant silhouette of the pirate captain ducks around a corner, and Blaze takes off after him, footsteps near silent. ]

[leitstern]

[The scent of sugar and cinnamon fills the small bakery - making one salivate at the small almond bakes and sweet buns that fill every available shelf and plate. Sounds of the city filter in through an open window; the patter and chatter of footsteps and the more unceremonious mewing of seagulls that pester the harbour. A closer look at the sky reveals the absence of sunlight. Rolling clouds blot out the sun and cover the streets in sinister darkness.

Chattering and conversation all fall quiet as the grave. Those within the bakery hardly respond to the situation; the middle-aged man in a black suit continues serving Caesar. Nearby, a man pale as moonlight stands in the corner offending no-one.]

Scusi, these cakes, they are no for sale. They is all for this gentleman.

[Protesting won't work. He means he's selling every cake in the store.]

[thirdwisestar]

[ And now he's in a bakery being told none of these delicious-smelling cakes are for sale. Caesar can swear he feels his actual stomach growl at the mere sight of all the food in this dream but, sadly, it doesn't wake him. He's seriously beginning to wonder if his familiar will ever deign to fish him out of these endless bouts of dream walking but that's a question for the cat, not whoever this dream happens to belong to. ]

All of them? [ Caesar will protest anyway. That seems entirely unfair! ] But what about all of your other clients? That's a terrible way to do business!

i!

[theleadingman]

[It's not the first time he's found himself here, and at times he's lucid enough to be certain that it won't be the last. This craft had been the pride of Archades; the Sky Fortress Bahamut had no equal, but what had once been a flawlessly-run machine is now swiftly on its way towards dropping out of the sky, the glossair rings sputtering out beneath it, sparks flying from consoles and the bulkheads that have slammed themselves shut to try and contain the damage.

They won't do much good. He remembers how this ends, and it had been this way by design— the only way to save Dalmasca had been for someone to stay behind, to change the course, and there were no others among their number who could have done it. Even if there were, he would not have let them try— he would have insisted Fran fly away safely, as well, but of course he knew better. She would hear none of it. They had chosen this, together.

Fran. Where was she now? He's running his way down one of the countless corridors in this juggernaut of an airship, the cold metal of its design now lit up in bright red as warning sirens blare, calling for evacuation, except it would be too late for many aboard. Certainly too late for him as he runs from the engine room, thick black smoke following his course through the winding corridors, and he raises an arm to shield his eyes as he searches the stretch ahead, still on the move, every moment precious.]

Fran!

[Where was she? She was meant to be here— the leading man never dies, he had told her, and for the briefest moment he has the vaguely lucid thought that he was sometimes without her during these dreams. No, they must have gotten separated. How?

He draws in a sharp breath and looks back the way he came. Lights flicker out and the smoke is choking thick, and he can feel the sharp lean of the sky fortress as it continues its ever-increasing descent.]

[thirdwisestar]

[ To Balthier's great misfortune, it won't be Fran who he finds in the hallways of the falling fortress. When it leans sharply, it'll be a far shorter person that comes stumbling out of a different hallway and colliding directly with him from the side. Worse yet, he immediately latches onto the sky pirate's belt in a wild attempt to steady himself as Bahamut pitches further one way or another as it falls.

No, this is no viera. It's another human, a young one at that and he doesn't look even remotely like he belongs on such an intimidating airship in the first place. If anything, a civilian in the wrong place at the worst possible time. ]

Is this thing falling?! [ Caesar doesn't like to sound frightened and so he doesn't but he does sound pretty stressed by the whole idea. ] Why was it flying in the first place?!

[ Look, the only ships he's been on are the boat kind. Airships are a wild, new, and immediately horrific concept to him right here, right now. ]

I

[scension]

[Every now and then, Sagi dreams of walking down an endless tunnel. The details of it blur and waver just like other dreams - one moment it's a dark cave with unsettlingly flesh-like walls closing in on him as he moves, the next moment it's a stone-paved street stretching past vibrantly-coloured temples and strangely deserted stalls, next a sunny forest trail winding along the bank of a pristine stream, next a metal walkway nestled in a labyrinth of pipes and glass and machinery. The only thread each setting has in common is that his unseen pursuer is always just a breath away, always silently mocking, always poised to drag him back to the start if he looks behind him instead of pretending they aren't there.

Having them yelp at him in surprise is new. Having them sound like some teenager not dissimilar to himself instead of the amorphous force they've been ever since he started getting dreams like this is downright worrying. Is it a last-ditch trick, or is it a clue? If the situation just changed, is it possible that they'll leave him alone this time? He can't help it; right as the tunnel fades smoothly into its next form, a cluttered back room thick with the cloying herbal smell of an apothecary, he turns to snap at them.] Hey, back off -

[Which means he's no longer looking in front of him, and promptly crashes into a table. The bundles of herbs strung up along the wall shudder in sympathy. As he rebounds, winded, a collection of glass vials topples over and shatters on the stone floor, spilling their multicoloured contents everywhere. No one is coming to clean them up, of course. No one will ever come here again.]

[thirdwisestar]

[ Crashing into people and places and objects in this long string of dreams has begun to get tiring and when the dreamer of this one turns to snap at him, Caesar can't help but begin to snap back. He doesn't get to, though, since Sagi walks into a table and sends dried plants and liquids and glass all over the place. He backs off quickly, hopping a few steps in reverse to avoid being splattered. ]

How about you watch where you're going instead? [ He's in a poor mood at this point and Sagi just happens to be the unlucky one for the moment. ] Now you've made a mess.

1

[emet_sulk]

Emet-Selch's dreams are usually tumultuous. It's a rare night when they're pleasant. Falling asleep beside one's friend (now lover) helps with that.

Thankfully for the intruder, this is no embarrassing dream but a nostalgic one: it's a bright, pleasant day they find themselves stumbling upon. A foreign city - not unlike any metropolis one may see in a developed country - built of a light grey stone and slender glass windows. One can be forgiven for thinking its some strange monastery with all the hooded and masked figures striding by, chatting amicably about esoteric topics. The language is beyond comprehension.

It's a city that is as much a statement of art as it is practical. On any other day, it would be worth looking around. However, this dream centres on two individuals engaged in passionate debate as they walk by Caesar. One of them wears a distinctive red mask carved into a permanent frown.

"And I am telling you, Hythlodaeus, that interfering in this matter would be conceited of us..."

Somehow, these words are comprehensible.

[thirdwisestar]

A foreign city beyond anything Caesar's ever seen before. The buildings tower, curving into beautiful angles far above as they reach for the sky. Everything seems so straight and specific and clean but at the same time, it isn't dull or depressingly uniform. Best of all, it lacks smoke, blood raining from the sky, and any sort of dangerous person looming ominously nearby.

He hasn't escaped general looming, however, it would seem. Caesar has always been short for his age and here, in this city, it reaches an absurd level of height disparity. Rather than blending into the dream seamlessly, as part of it, he's simply himself, as he always is, bright-haired and donning the usual greens and browns that he prefers as far as clothing goes.

So, here he is, standing out, although whether anyone in this dream notices, who knows. He'll just have to find out and when that snippet of comprehensible languages reaches his ears, he turns to spot the two drifting on through as they debate.

That has to be the dreamer. One of them, anyway, though which one...

Regardless, he turns and begins to trail along after them.

I

[impostorsyndrome]

[Cold—

It's so cold. Beyond bitterly cold. There's the sense, in fact, that this cold isn't actually survivable, that no human could withstand the full force of it, but that the full force is somehow being kept at bay. There is some invisible layer of something unknown surrounding Caesar that makes it bearable instead of instantly fatal. The snow whips around him, obscuring his sight, and so even under less sudden and outrageous conditions he might have trouble getting a good look at what he's stumbling into—

A pillar of ice, rising sharply from the ground like a misplaced stalagmite. Caesar's weight hitting it splits a huge crack in it, and thick, sharp shards fall away into the snow around him. Or them.

Around them, because a young man just a little older than Caesar steps out of the ice he'd been encased in, dragging a hand through his messy silver hair and then pulling the hood of his big coat up around it with a shiver.]

. . . Thanks. I mean, I'm a little pissed I couldn't manage that myself, but whatever. At this point, I'll take the help. This is like the eighth night of that shit. . . . How'd you manage to get into my dream?

[We're lucid here, folks. The young man looks very tired, and dreary, but not actually upset to have been surprised and upstaged if it means being free.]

[thirdwisestar]

[ It's cold, it's cold, it's cold. Upon stumbling into this dream, Caesar immediately wrapped his arms around himself and shivered, about to give voice to a complaint about this particular dream but hitting the pillar of ice cuts him short. Ice shatters around him and he stumbles backward a step or two, startled. ]

What in the— [ ...world? A person? There'd been someone trapped in that ice?! ] Oh. Uh.

[ And he realizes this is a dream. There's a shocker. ]

Beats me. My familiar shoved me off on this terrible adventure from one dream to another and I haven't figured out how to stop it yet. [ But more importantly! ] Why is it so cold here? Couldn't you dream of summer instead?