exsiliumlogs | this is the way of it [OPEN]

Date & Time: 1/18 -> end of Jan
Location: near and around a bed
Characters: Soldier Blue, tbd
Summary: a psychic dying tends to dreamhop or suck nearby people into his own dreams.
Warnings: dying, references to such, any bad memories lying about in any given headspace

The way of it was unprecedented in his world: If any Mu before him had lived a life to its full extent, it was done so hidden away from notice. All others suffered and inevitably died far, far too young. Too many children.

Soldier Blue found his eyes wouldn't open, his body barely stir, disobeying every command just the way it had at the start of his fifteen-year sleep. He'd been so much more resigned to that, back then. Secure as he could be in the faith he had in his successor, his comrades. Here, though? Here, he wasn't so sure.

Throughout the days that passed, he found the strength to exert, push his mind away from the prison of his body, if only for a moment. But he'd lose himself in doing that, lose the purpose, drift and find himself straying into dreams or the passing presence of more focused, willful minds, some more familiar than others. It all twisted into pasts distant and near, making for disorienting journeys that often ended in the darkness that he constantly tried to shake himself from, harder and harder each time.

He chased the specks of light he perceived in the place of those thoughts and dreams, feeling weight bearing down upon his body the further he reached. Warmth on his cheek, the gentle breathy voice of his goddess...or some other? Everything blended together so seamlessly that the tears reality caused were frightening.

His reach shrank and lights grew distant like stars, became stars, a canopy of a hundred-years old vigil in an entirely different world.

Ataraxion? Exsilium? He couldn't say, not without someone to tell him the right of it. Whether they were ghosts or truly present, though...

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Knowing Hisoka and his past, it's little wonder that a majority of his dreams are not exactly pleasant ones. More often nightmares, flashbacks of things he might not prefer to dwell on upon waking. But this was the reason he frequently curls up with his partner, Tsuzuki. He tends to sleep a bit better with that comfort at least. Most nights. But not tonight.

There is an uneasiness, a terror and fear clutching at his chest at the sight. It's Tsuzuki, or, it looks like him. Mostly. But it's clear to Hisoka that this is not his partner. Something is definitely wrong. That expression, the words he uses, his answers to certain questions just don't add up. Nor does the emotions playing out through Hisoka's empathy. Which can only mean one thing. He's possessed. And Hisoka is determined to free him.

It's a trick, but an effective one. Hijiri looks similar enough to Hisoka that this could work. The wig is itchy but easily enough ignored while attempting to fool 'Tsuzuki'. Which he does, well enough that the demon possessing him contorts his partner's expression to something horrifying, something so unlike Tsuzuki that Hisoka's suspicions are practically confirmed at that moment even without the identifying mark to prove this. Hisoka is relieved at the confirmation, but only briefly. For a moment, before the cool steel knife pierces his stomach, his green eyes widening as he slumps down to the ground. Blood pools from the wound, staining the carpet as 'Tsuzuki' turns and leaves, not seeming to care about the young boy's fate. There's a creak and a click as the door closes, leaving him to supposedly bleed out.

It was becoming harder and harder for Blue to discern dreams from memories, memories from the present, and all the things lost in his mind from the truth of the moment: He was still there, lying still and unmoved, a body no longer willing to move, no matter how the mind screamed and strained. That stretching and straining was what drew him to the violence of a foreigner's mind. Yet the common threads of fear and despair bound and bade him draw near, and Blue felt lucky to realize right away this was no one's present-tense reality.

A dream...

Dreams were not harmless things, not all of them. As Blue descended into that landscape, he found strength in him enough to push through unseen barriers to settle before a wounded, possibly dying young man.

Hands reached for a face contorted with pain, their presence more a warmth than anything truly physical. Presence, an imposition of himself into an otherwise dreadful, lonely scene.

Hisoka's chest rises and falls faintly, betraying the truth as he regenerates, healing the otherwise mortal injury. It's lucky it was him and not the kid, otherwise he would have died and the curse would have been activated. That is all that is on Hisoka's mind as he lies there, exhausted and recovering.

But then he senses something. Someone. He looks up, eyes wide and startled at the faint feeling of warmth at his cheek. He would shuffle back but he is already trapped against the window, unable to retreat any further. His breath hitches as he looks around, confused.

What.....?

It's a dream, says Blue, his face gentle, but shaped by an empathetic sadness. Pain is pain, even imagined. All of this. And I'm nobody to fear.

A dream....? That's...no, this happened years ago. That's right. But who are you?

Hisoka is wary, instantly uneasy at the idea of anyone seeing his dreams, or nightmares to be more accurate. He had them often enough, but this one was at least not one involving the doctor. His lips part slightly, frowning. He's never had this happen before, and it doesn't particularly encourage him to think this person is trying to reassure him. None of this is supposed to be seen by anyone else. What if Tsuzuki saw? No, this is best left just buried in Hisoka's memories.

Blue's hands withdraw at the feeling apprehension directing much more sharply upon him; he's well beyond his usual boundaries as it is and can hardly blame the boy for reacting so.

He even takes a step away, keeping his hands drawn close to himself, but ever in view.

I am Soldier Blue. Something here...something in your heart drew me here. He looks past him, and briefly around the room. Some piece of you that resonated with me.

Soldier Blue? Hisoka. My name is Hisoka. But I'm not sure what could have brought you here. I don't recall meeting you before....

He stands tentatively, arms still sort of hugging himself as he recovers from the regeneration and attack. His wide green gaze follows Soldier's around the room, not entirely sure what to make of this. Why now, after all the other nightmares he has had? Why this one? And why this guy he has never met or even spoken to before? Hisoka is a bit confused by it, on top of his attack, to put it mildly.

Blue gives the boy space that he can, moving around the room slowly, as though at each step he is expecting some kind of change or retaliation. He wonders, too, what's drawn him to a stranger's dream so easily...

In my youth, I followed the dreams of children who showed signs of abilities like my own. Mu children. He stops, looking back at Hisoka with a more thoughtful stare. I sought them out, hoping to rescue them before they were discovered.

I'm hardly a child. What abilities? Hisoka can't help but be curious in spite of himself, on his feet and leaning back against the window, not caring since it is already stained with his blood. He feels so....insecure, uncertain under that stare as he himself returns it, cautious and wondering. But he appreciates the other giving him space, especially at a time like this. He can't be sure right now if his empathy is probably on a hair trigger given the circumstances.

Hardly a child, but young all the same framed in the nostalgic state of Blue's mind. The unease radiating from Hisoka clouds the room – this is his domain, after all – and only makes it easier to recall those children. There was always fear and awe mixed together in their encounters.

Like my own...Perceiving and connecting to the thoughts and feelings from those around us. His eyes close, then open quickly with the revelation he should've had the second he knew it was a dream: He's trespassed.

He turns his head back toward Hisoka. Even with that power...I didn't seek you out. So why...?

My empathy? That's why you are here? But I can control it a lot better now than I could as a kid.

So he is still unsure what to make of this, wondering if or why or even how his empathy could do something like this. This has never happened before, after all, even with all his nightmares previously here and back home. This is new, different. Did this guy mean to do this or is it a mistake and if it is, how do they deal with this?

But I...

His eyes drop, looking to his hands. My powers, then...it's what's happening to me now.

The weight of his reality reaches him in that dream, pushing confusion aside and settling in with understanding. In dying, desperation pushes him outside of himself, to connect and be secure. And in this stranger, a flicker of power familiar to his own drew him light a moth to flame.

I found you, he looks up once more, because my heart wished to find something safe to hold onto.

this is the way of it [OPEN]

Probably around the middle of the month ish?

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