enters an actual nightmare

[albtraum]

It walks with a shadowy grace; a slow waltz with it's head hung low and black tresses of hair flowing over it's cracked white face. A lullaby vibrating quietly in it's throat. Inky black drifts and rolls down its body, trailing along the floor. It seems... surprisingly shy. Avoiding eyes that cast its way. Wandering in times of light causes Albtraum to be more cagey than usual.

Though after some time of dodging in and out of doorways, and dark corners, and any or all sorts of nooks and crannies, it long last manifests in a tavern corner. Oh, because it remembers the introduction and the request, the question. Simply, it was stewing.

"Good evening," a heavily accented voice, deep baritone smooth and piercing as aged whiskey. Eyes look outward and head tips up toward nowhere in particular. "What brings you back to a feeling of home?"

(ooc: will do brackets or prose. info here. Still fleshing it out.)

Comments

[desertpowered]

Paul doesn't know exactly what kind of creature this is, so he defaults to how he's learned to deal with unknown and powerful creatures in the Nexus - wary, but polite and courteous. So the being will be faced with a teenage boy who bows a little in greeting on seeing it. Maybe he can learn more through talking. The creature is unsettling, but not everything that's unsettling is evil.

He tries not to draw too much attention in taverns, since he's more there to gather information and follow Nexus politics than to drink. Paul wants to keep his mind sharp. All the better for listening and learning.

"It depends on what you mean by 'home'. Whether it's a place you were born, or whether it's a place where you feel you belong. If it's the former you mean, my answer would be the smell of sea salt, the sound of waves."

[albtraum]

Perhaps this creature is seeking inspiration. Images to weave its dreams. Easier now in the shadows with the noise around them a blanket to hide such details which may come. It's noted the young human, ah-- a young human, is not partaking in any liquid delights. Nor, really, did Albtraum have such desires. Those came in stories and pictures of the mind. Easy to coax from the littlest ones. Their mind not yet burdened and closed. A drink, he's found, helps the older crowd.

Though Albtraum is not looking Paul's way, it replies in kind with a shallow nod of its head. It's eyes close and a deep breath rushes in; fingers raise and dance in dreamlike patterns. Sea salt, waves. It wants to know the answer to the latter, too, but they'll get there later. "I've seen such places." It sounds far more fascinated than what's probably appropriate. Honestly, Albtraum. Sand is not that exciting. "What color is the sand; the sky?"

[bloodysacrifice]

Moloch had grown fond of watching the people in the Nexus. The angel sitting in the same corner is dressed head to toe in black leather, just as black as his hair and the huge oilslick feathered wings folded at his back. They are stark against his deathly pale skin and golden-red eyes.

The question has the angel setting down his drink and leaning forward on his table to assess the being speaking to him. The shift in his wings reveals the silver flight feathers that sound like metal grating together. For anyone close enough, his presence chills the area and there's a faint iron smell of old blood.

"Burning alive." he mentions with a cynical amusement that is a hallmark of this angel.

(OOC: A nightmare for a nightmare. You can read about him here.)

[albtraum]

That wandering gaze swoops down into a laser focus upon the angel who'd just leaned in. A notion mimicked by the creature with its fingers extending to calmly trace patterns in the wood. The sound of metal pierced through casual chatter almost enough to stop it for a moment or two but that stink of death. Such an all too common fear among mortals, death. Something deep bubbled up through its throat, a song, a gruesome tale tapering off into a chuckle or two.

"Divine," a comment on the answer, but the wordplay was not lost on Albtraum. Comfort is what it feels, a great deal unlike what the people -- who after a bare few moments nearby -- chose to move tables, felt. Every syllable spoken with precise diction. "I hear it's agonizing beyond comprehension." The Fall, that is.

[cursedhyacinth.livejournal.com]

[[OOC: Hey weird new muse, have a weird old muse.]]

All sorts of new ways between all sorts of new worlds have opened up since the Dreamwide Shift, though Jacinda has only recently ventured out along them. (Zie kept to zirself even when the old meeting place was busy. At least zie doesn't drink nearly as much as before.) Currently, Jacinda is sipping at a single bottle of beer and watching the other patrons of the tavern. Maybe zie is looking for someone that zie won't find here.

In any case, the question draws Jacinda's attention. "I've had a lot of homes," zie answers, "but they never last."

[albtraum]

(ooc: honk yeah. )

It tilts its head a little, watching from the distance where Jacinda was perched. Well, Albtraum would be no judge to habits--drink, no drink. It made little impression either way. It was interested in dreams; in hopes and fears, longings and regrets. And what one dreams of tells far stronger a story of that person; what one fears, one keeps hidden away--even more telling.

Albtraum lifts from its place, fingers clawing briefly at maybe fabric or maybe it was just adjusting itself. Who can tell, really? That dress certainly doesn't act like a dress would. Has a damn mind of its own. But the creature's saunter is slow and its eyes avert from Jacinda the closer it gets. It peers about the patrons of the bar until it seats itself, and in the dim light a wet streak of red comes tumbling down the cracked white cheek.

"Do you wish for a home?" Deep and airy like a hush.

[cursedhyacinth.livejournal.com]

Jacinda watches the creature's approach with some wariness, but while the outfit is certainly behaving in a weird, not-fabric way, overall there doesn't seem to be a threat in the creature's mannerisms. Zie takes another sip from the beer bottle.

If asked, and if in the right mood, Jacinda could tell of fears. Regrets, too. Bone-deep hurts like being forgotten and left behind, again and again. It's not information that zie will volunteer easily, however.

"I do all right without one, for now." Zie rolls zir neck, letting it pop, and smiles a little wryly. "Maybe I just outgrew my old homes. Like a hermit crab."

[albtraum]

"Ah," the acknowledgment rolls off its tongue in an almost songlike manner and an unsettling but not particularly dangerous smile crawls over its lips. That trail of blood drips, drips, drips until it curves down its chin and disappears. It looks upward, recalling memories. "I remember times when nomadic life was common among humankind. The world was small."

It has time, and plenty, to quest for those things of interest to it. Everyone fears and everyone dreams, it's not about to run out anytime soon. "Time changes us all."

[alittlehinky]

Cricket hasn't been a child in a few years, but he is a human, in his early twenties, and the way he looks at the strange entity is a mix between familiarity and unease. There are a lot of types of people in the Nexus, though--gods, demons, monsters, angels, things for which humanity doesn't even have names. He has yet to be permanently harmed by any of them, and he'll take his chances on this one, too.

He's got a drink of his own moonshine in his hands--blackberry moonshine--because he's just finished up a delivery. At the question, he looks down into the glass and swirls the liquor in it a little. "Subtle things, mostly. The way the light slants right before sunset sometimes. The way the air smells right before rain. I dunno. I grew up in the mountains and sometimes the landscape here kinda seems to try to make things look right for me. I got wild blackberries all over my yard, and the right wildflowers and all. Somehow it's still always the way the light falls just right that makes me feel like I'm home."

[albtraum]

Well if Cricket has things on the mind then Albtraum's presence certainly won't help the situation, but at least it's not intentionally making these things worse. For him, for anyone. It's just existing, tonight. For now. And it knows the eyes it received even if it's head often hangs to evade such gazes for reasons not yet revealed. A creature as such wouldn't be expected to be shy, but here they were. For all of its unnerving appearance, Albtraum thus far seems a gentle creature.

And it feels that familiarity Cricket experiences. Some recall Albtraum more vividly than others; some have seen it in the restless nights in cold sweat and rapid hearts. Those people often recall a demon but it was no such thing. Not good, not evil, but capable of both. Some simply belong to the dark. There always needs to be dark.

"Wundervoll," rolls off the tongue as it seems preoccupied with the feet pittering around them. "Mountainside is, I think, my favorite place on earth. When the sun dies for the night very few things match that beauty, ja?"

[alittlehinky]

He seems to be instinctively not looking directly at the entity, because it isn't looking directly at him. If it doesn't want eye contact, that's okay. They both know they're talking to one another.

Cricket has a few very prevalent worries, and some unpleasant experiences that still bother him sometimes, but in general he's a content and well-adjusted person. He'll be all right. But you don't grow up in Appalachia without hearing tales of spirits and haints and monsters, the kinds of things that color a child's dreams until they figure out humans are much worse than any of those.

He smiles a little at the answer, glancing up from his drink only briefly. "The mountains where I used to live before I came here? Some folks say they're older'n bones. Not as tall as some others, but ancient."

"This is my home now, but I still miss 'em a lot of the time."

"Are you lookin' for something like home? Is that why you ask?" Normally he'd use a 'sir' or 'ma'am' here to address someone he's only just met, but he's not sure either applies. Sometimes it's better to default to informality, anyway.

[albtraum]

Eye contact was overrated when you were something of a dreamy thing. Even if those dreams were nightmares, Albtraum was every bit its manifestation far beyond its disturbing appearance. The way it spoke in deep whispers and a slight song. The way it moved. Every inch of itself true to what it was.

As for the monsters known as humans, well. Humankind was good at making monsters. Most things that go bump in the night manifested from them, after all. The blood they spilled. The things they feared. Their minds an incredible web of creative horrors. Their bodies capable of horrendous crimes. Cricket was surely correct.

"I come from an old place, too. They say the mountains do not bend but I have watched them." An exhale, his fingers that danced in gesticulation grasped tight for a moment. "Time comes for us all."

Oh, some come to live here? This is interesting to Albtraum who is so deeply tied to its roots from where it hailed. For just a moment, eyes flicked up to the young one. How curious. "Me?" The e fades in an exhale, its body moves in just a little and a finger points inward. This creature, its features are very expressive. And perhaps it may be the first time Albtraum looks at Cricket directly. "Nein, I love my home. I'm looking for stories."

[tieflingtarot]

The corner nearest where a tiefling had set up shop, a drink at his elbow and cards in his hands, flickering between fingers in an idle shuffle that slows when he becomes aware of the question.

"Well, evening to you too!" The stranger hadn't been there before, Molly was aware of that, made it a point to mind who was around him, where they went. Not that it was a thing that was necessary in the Nexus, but in his experience of his original world, not everyone was friendly when it came to tieflings, or just the unapologetically different. "Home though... oh, it'd have to be stories. Mine, those of others, just the act of telling a tale, or hearing one told makes me feel like I'm back there."

Not a lie. Stories reminded him of the carnival, the place he remembered being the longest, the first place he remembered having a family, but there was also the feeling of cold heavy dirt. Another home that he would rather avoid for all he seemed to end up there more often than he liked.

"What about you, friend? Something specific that makes you homesick?"

[albtraum]

Very new, here. Never been too far from home before. It travels here and there with those who have left home but not yet left it, but for the most part Albtraum dwells in one place. There are other creatures for other people, after all. It's hardly the only one, just the first one.

As for being one to judge...well, it's hardly one to judge the strange or unapologetically different. Besides, it's home has many creatures both inside and outside of the dreamworld, so Albtraum is not at all caught off guard by the Teifling nearby, and the answer that followed has it's attention wander more directly toward them. They watch a few moments, attention flicking from the shuffling of cards and back out again-- considering it's response with a quiet deep hum.

Finally, its attention turns to Molly in full. A finger waving outward in a point to emphasize its next words, "cut from a similar cloth, you and I. Stories and dreams, I am a collector of these things." It does so love stories, to hear, to tell. "Do you have a favorite?"

[itmeanstruth]

It wasn’t one person, but two, that the question - and obviously, the entity asking it - caught the attention of. Were Isamu and Minoru new to the Nexus, this would have been quite the shock. But they’d lived here a couple of years now, amongst all sorts of aliens, demons and giant robots. The Sandman’s appearance didn’t really faze them. The brothers approached.

“I suppose what brings me back to a feeling of home are primarily the little things.” The more reserved of the boys replied. The other nodded eagerly. “Perhaps a familiar scent, a warm light, sitting in a comfortable chair with a good book in my hands.”

“Okay, maybe not that last one.” Minoru laughed. Isamu never met a book he didn’t like. “But yeah. Mama’s curry. That’s home in a bowl right there.”

“Indeed.”

“Where’s your home?” Minoru asked the newcomer. He wasn’t sure, but the nature of the question and the tone in which it was spoken sounded a lot like homesickness.

[albtraum]

And as the brothers approached, a palm unfolded to welcome them should they wish to fully join its table. Eyes remain wandering, cast down upon the old wood as opposed to observing the new company. It listens, though. This much is apparent through subtle body language, a nod, a hum. Eventually making a comment to the answer. "Ja, good answers." A book, it agrees. And food, well this is very human, it thinks. Heart and stomach.

The answers bring images to weave in its mind quite clearly, although it fills in the blanks that were left without details. It thinks of a rainy night and the scent of pine and burning wood. The warm light is from a fire nearby. Something of a chuckle bubbles up from its lips. Ah, yes-- the difference between the brothers becomes clear quite early on. Both were good answers, though, Albtraum thinks.

It hums again, a bit of a song to the tone of it. It's body leaning forward and fingers tracing idle designs. "Oh, I have home in many places. In dreams, and stories, and songs. The sad ones, and tales of longing."

[itmeanstruth]

Minoru sat first, but his brother followed a few moments later. The evening was still young, and neither had anywhere pressing to be at the moment.

“It’s only natural to miss something when it’s gone. But you can always make new dreams and songs and stuff here, for however long you want to stay. The Nexus is a good home.”

“We have lived here a couple of years now. Which was mostly my doing, I suppose.” Isamu added, before quickly shifting to introductions. They both spoke fluent English, but a Japanese accent came through more strongly from time to time. “My name is Isamu Uchiwa. I am a biochemist at the Institute for Research and Interdimensional Studies. And this is my brother, Minoru. He is an orderly at the hospital here.”

Minoru chuckled softly. “Yeah, he’s the one with the research grant. I just tagged along for the ride. Glad I did too. This is the only place I’ve ever lived where not a single cop has tried to stop me from freerunning.”

[albtraum]

Something of an amused smile crawls up over its lips--it's chin dipping down, briefly making eye contact. It's home--beyond story, dream, and song--was her, and it covets the pain of that loss. Has no desire to find something new or move on, but as for story, song, and dream... well. "It's an acquired taste, I'm afraid." Sure, it'll go with that.

It's figure shifts and leans back; hands fold into its lap and eyes take in the details around them in thought. No, no it wouldn't stay. Too tied to its land, its culture, the young ones. Though visit? Perhaps. And you'll have to forgive Albtraum for having very little idea at all what freerunning is. It's expression sharing such confusion without needing to speak it.

Though after all that, with a wring of its wrist and dip of its head, the creature introduces itself simply as, "Albtraum."

[guitar_voodoo]

That deep voice got Mick perking up from plucking away at the few notes on his guitar whilst out enjoying the evening Nexus sunshine. The question was a good one and it got the blond thinking but he already knew the answer.

"My baby here and this photo."

Mick now showing the stranger his guitar, which was resting in his lap; right fingers clutching the pick using to strum and the photo was one of him and Ziggy together with the rest of the band next to them.

"That's Ziggy, my singer and fiancee. This photo was taken back when we formed our band. It reminds me of home when I'm here in the Nexus."

[albtraum]

Deep, with just a hint of song to it--cutting through the tavern noise. A sound that can only further the picture of exactly what sort of creature Albtraum was. It's eyes lift as Mick speaks, sweeping over the guitar, and briefly sweeping over the man himself but not lingering for long. This choice wasn't to be mistaken for disinterest or a lack of paying attention, though.

"Aah, you are a musician." Blackened fingertips tapering into claws danced with the words, and while Albtraum always had a soft spot for the artists and philosophers amongst humankind it was the mentions of love that really grasped its attention. Its head lifted again, "love is home, for you?"

[guitar_voodoo]

"Yeah, I'm a musician; guitarist for Ziggy Stardust and the Spiders from Mars. The name's Mick Ronno and this is my Custom '68 Gibson electric guitar."

Mick noticed the man's appearance and wondered what sort of race he was if he wasn't human. So many looked human in appearance and weren't. Was love home for Mick? Yes, it was where his heart beat the fastest just being on stage in front of a huge crowd performing with the girl he loved.

"Music is my passion, mate. Performing alongside Ziggy and playing my guitar is home for me. I'm just a simple down to earth sort of bloke but playing guitar is all I ever want."

[albtraum]

It comes from modern times but it's far more likely to know a whole lot more about Mozart and squat about any classic rock, unfortunately. It knows what a guitar is and surely that's something?

Though a creature like Albtraum enjoying Opera is hardly surprising, no good Opera doesn't end in death and tragedy. Thinking of this manages to get an amused rumble out of its chest. If only it still had a heart, Diana Damrau might be a close second place for it.

This aside, "A great luck it is to be living these dreams." It's known many a person whose very nightmares stemmed from the inability to be and live how they really wished.

[sharktoothtotem]

"Depends on what the situation is. Lately it's been my friends, though before, it was the smell of the ocean." She glanced up from her map, which she had been jotting notes, doing some research work for one of her uncle's friends.

"I should elaborate, the smell of the Pacific ocean. The smell of volcanic ash and saltwater just smells like safety. More than horse leathers and the sun." There might be a small blush at that. "What about you? The accent, I'm guessing Europe somewhere?"

[albtraum]

Home in others is a wise place to find home and also a tragic one; it knows this too well. And so with this answer, it hums--eyes drifting over the map in casual observation. Volcanic ash and saltwater paints a nice picture in its mind more than horse leathers and the sun, though it suspects there's something there. But Albtraum won't pry.

Instead, it brings a hand up to gesticulate. "Depends on what the situation is." A short smile, seen even if the creatures yet to look at Taylor directly. "I was born from dreams; the young ones who sleep in Germania." Not that it's called that anymore but excuse it for being old as dirt.

[sharktoothtotem]

"That's fair." She smiled at the stranger. "Though born of dreams? That's interesting, I haven't heard of that yet. And Germania? That's a term that hasn't been used in a while, though I do have an idea where that is. I think it would be what one of my friends would call it."

"I'm Taylor by the way," She held out her hand to the stranger knowing that they were in the safe zone. "And welcome to the Nexus, if no one other than the video has said that to you yet."