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Yes! These rules--cheap, limiting. Constantly changing regardless of what we say!
And you sought to discover if these rules were ironclad, or even necessary at all.
[ He breathes out a small, privately amused little sound. ]
Oh, you would have fit right into Sharlayan.
[ He breathes out a small, privately amused little sound. ]
Oh, you would have fit right into Sharlayan.
They aren't, Arthur. They aren't. [ breathless with the need for him to understand ] I can--warp any spell to exert power of another type, so long as I have spell of that type in my book to reference. No one else can do this. Only us Scribes. Before us, very few at all. It is not immutable, and we are hamstringing ourselves to think some rules are ironclad and others can bend.
I understand, Sprezzatura. I do. 'Tis a prison of your own making and you seek to find the key.
How close were you?
How close were you?
A theory that someone clearly thought worth stealing.
[Nighttime comes, and whenever sleeps claims Arthur, whenever he drifts into his dreams, Dream visits — as he said he would.
He is, at first, nothing more than a presence of formless black, inky starlight shining and moving through the man’s mind like a shadow. But slowly, he gains a silhouette, shaping himself into something that looks human, just as he appears in the waking world. Yet in dreams, he is dressed as he pleases: no silly costumes, just an all-black attire, and a long coat that drifts lazily behind him as he walks and takes in his new surroundings.
What is it that he sees?]
He is, at first, nothing more than a presence of formless black, inky starlight shining and moving through the man’s mind like a shadow. But slowly, he gains a silhouette, shaping himself into something that looks human, just as he appears in the waking world. Yet in dreams, he is dressed as he pleases: no silly costumes, just an all-black attire, and a long coat that drifts lazily behind him as he walks and takes in his new surroundings.
What is it that he sees?]
[ Ul’dah, the jewel of the deserts of Thanalan. A large bustling city of wide roads, sandy stone buildings, and colorful tapestries. The harsh midday sun glints off of gilded roofs, and would send most sensible people scrambling for the shade.
But the markets of the city’s Sapphire Avenue Exchange are packed with people of all shapes and sizes, from hulking roegadyn who stand head and shoulders above the rest, to the diminutive lalafell, and all else in between. (Though folk with leporine features like Arthur’s are very scarce indeed.) Merchants shout at passersby, hawking their wares to anyone who might listen, and everything from cloth to jewelry to food is on display. It feels like the city is ramping up to something, and joy and anticipation spark bright in the market-dwellers. The heat of the day is a mere afterthought to many.
Arthur himself is engaged in friendly chatter with a merchant, a weathered lalafellin woman who smiles at him brightly.
The contents of their conversation is lost in the noise of the crowd, for now. ]
But the markets of the city’s Sapphire Avenue Exchange are packed with people of all shapes and sizes, from hulking roegadyn who stand head and shoulders above the rest, to the diminutive lalafell, and all else in between. (Though folk with leporine features like Arthur’s are very scarce indeed.) Merchants shout at passersby, hawking their wares to anyone who might listen, and everything from cloth to jewelry to food is on display. It feels like the city is ramping up to something, and joy and anticipation spark bright in the market-dwellers. The heat of the day is a mere afterthought to many.
Arthur himself is engaged in friendly chatter with a merchant, a weathered lalafellin woman who smiles at him brightly.
The contents of their conversation is lost in the noise of the crowd, for now. ]
[What a remarkable place, and though Morpheus finds himself weaving though the mercantile streets of the city, he understands the shape of its skyline even from below — it reminds him, just a bit, of the Dreaming. Its castle spires, reaching high into the expanse of the sky, though Arthur’s dream is far more arid, warmer.
His clothes change accordingly—an amusing notion, given their last conversation—to whatever is best suited to this dream, to this weather. (Even if his colors are still very much done-up in black.) It does not take long for him to spot Arthur, the source of this dream itself, and Morpheus walks over to him, eying his conversation with another merchant.
For now, Dream just listens. What are they going on about?]
His clothes change accordingly—an amusing notion, given their last conversation—to whatever is best suited to this dream, to this weather. (Even if his colors are still very much done-up in black.) It does not take long for him to spot Arthur, the source of this dream itself, and Morpheus walks over to him, eying his conversation with another merchant.
For now, Dream just listens. What are they going on about?]
[ The woman is still ginning, her smile spanning from one pointed ear to another. ]
Of course, dear. You know I just love seeing what your mother comes up with for the celebration. We're always honored that you come to us year after year for our help.
Please, Mrs. Shori, you know the honor is ours. When it comes to ribbon, yours is second to none. Mother's decorations wouldn't be the same without it.
Ha! That silver tongue of yours must make you quite popular, Master Inkwell. Now, off you go.
[ She, with the help of another worker, plops a bundle onto the counter, spools of silken ribbon in bright colors poking out from the plain cloth they're wrapped in. Arthur offers her a small bow before sliding a pouch of coins over to her. He tugs on the leather lead held in one hand and a chocobo with royal blue plumage steps forward.
He takes a moment to lash the package to the chocobo's saddle and mount up, then they're off at a leisurely pace, winding through the crowd. ]
Of course, dear. You know I just love seeing what your mother comes up with for the celebration. We're always honored that you come to us year after year for our help.
Please, Mrs. Shori, you know the honor is ours. When it comes to ribbon, yours is second to none. Mother's decorations wouldn't be the same without it.
Ha! That silver tongue of yours must make you quite popular, Master Inkwell. Now, off you go.
[ She, with the help of another worker, plops a bundle onto the counter, spools of silken ribbon in bright colors poking out from the plain cloth they're wrapped in. Arthur offers her a small bow before sliding a pouch of coins over to her. He tugs on the leather lead held in one hand and a chocobo with royal blue plumage steps forward.
He takes a moment to lash the package to the chocobo's saddle and mount up, then they're off at a leisurely pace, winding through the crowd. ]
[For the celebration?
Though Dream does not interrupt, he is curious. What sort of celebrations would Arthur’s home have, on a plane so far from the one he knows? One in need of bright, colorful ribbons, a sight that the Endless appreciates from afar as they poke out from their parcel and flicker in the breeze.
Is he close with his mother, he wonders? It is not a foreign idea—many mortals are—yet the concept itself is distant enough that he finds himself compelled to follow and learn. He never planned to linger far beyond his presence, anyway.
The leisurely pace of a chocobo is still one with long, loping stride, and Dream does not want to find himself chasing after. He is here to test his power, and so here comes the first trial: a transformation into a large, black cat, all shadow and silver eyes. He keeps pace this way, winding through the crowd with the quickness of a feline, following, following.
Wherever they end up, somehow Dream is there first, sitting at the doorstep, his tail curled around him. Looks up at Arthur.
Meow.]
Though Dream does not interrupt, he is curious. What sort of celebrations would Arthur’s home have, on a plane so far from the one he knows? One in need of bright, colorful ribbons, a sight that the Endless appreciates from afar as they poke out from their parcel and flicker in the breeze.
Is he close with his mother, he wonders? It is not a foreign idea—many mortals are—yet the concept itself is distant enough that he finds himself compelled to follow and learn. He never planned to linger far beyond his presence, anyway.
The leisurely pace of a chocobo is still one with long, loping stride, and Dream does not want to find himself chasing after. He is here to test his power, and so here comes the first trial: a transformation into a large, black cat, all shadow and silver eyes. He keeps pace this way, winding through the crowd with the quickness of a feline, following, following.
Wherever they end up, somehow Dream is there first, sitting at the doorstep, his tail curled around him. Looks up at Arthur.
Meow.]
[ Arthur's chocobo bears him out of the bustling market and into the city's residential area - the very wealthy residential area. Sprawling estates line the road, some more ostentatious than others, and Arthur's journey takes him to a much more subdued affair at the end of a cul-de-sac. The building itself is modestly decorated, save for the bright splash of turquoise that is the front door, and the absolutely immaculate patches of flowers that adorn the lawn.
He circles around back to the chocobo stables, and so doing he crosses into yet more gardens. There are flowers everywhere, a vast rainbow of brightly colored petals reaching toward the sun. There are trees and vegetables as well, and a long greenhouse of foggy glass.
The chocobo comes up short at the stable's entrance when it finds there's a cat in its way. ]
Hm, what is it Aloysius?
[ Arthur leans over from the saddle to peer down. Ah. He dismounts, approaching the feline. ]
Hello there, little fellow. I haven't seen you around before.
[ Just gonna try and pick up this cat?? ]
He circles around back to the chocobo stables, and so doing he crosses into yet more gardens. There are flowers everywhere, a vast rainbow of brightly colored petals reaching toward the sun. There are trees and vegetables as well, and a long greenhouse of foggy glass.
The chocobo comes up short at the stable's entrance when it finds there's a cat in its way. ]
Hm, what is it Aloysius?
[ Arthur leans over from the saddle to peer down. Ah. He dismounts, approaching the feline. ]
Hello there, little fellow. I haven't seen you around before.
[ Just gonna try and pick up this cat?? ]
[There are so many flowers, meticulously planted, a whole garden of color. Dream is a patch of four-legged night traveling past ad through, never bending even a stem. And when he finally sits waits in front of the stables, glancing up at Arthur with a gently undulating tail, the man dismounts his ride and walks over to—
Pick him up.
That was not quite what he intended—who just waltzes up to Dream of the Endless and picks him up?—but perhaps he should not be surprised. His tail flicks, but there’s no real irritation present. He’s a large cat, soft to the touch, and just as floppy as a real one when picked up.
What are you going to do with him, bud.]
Pick him up.
That was not quite what he intended—who just waltzes up to Dream of the Endless and picks him up?—but perhaps he should not be surprised. His tail flicks, but there’s no real irritation present. He’s a large cat, soft to the touch, and just as floppy as a real one when picked up.
What are you going to do with him, bud.]
[ WELL MOSTLY he's just going to move him out of the way, setting him aside on the half-wall around the stable. Then he takes up Aloysius' reins and guides him back into the stable. ]
Are you here to keep pests out of the garden? I'm sure mother will thank you.
[ Speaking of, from somewhere in the garden, a pair of large, fluffy rabbit ears perk up, and a viera woman stands from where she had been bent over tending the flowers. She brushes the dirt from her hands on the front of the well-loved apron she's wearing and wanders over. ]
I thought I heard you come in. Who are you talking to?
Just your new feline friend. I brought your order. Mrs. Shori sends her regards.
Delightful little woman. I'm only sad I couldn't go myself, but preparations have kept me busy. [ She moves to Arthur as he takes the bundle from his chocobo's back and offers it over. She takes it and, being a good few inches taller than Arthur, easily leans over to plant a little kiss on the top of his head, between his ears. ] Thank you, dear little Avi. The Twelve know I'd be lost without your help.
[ Arthur wrinkles his nose at her, but it's a fond sort of gesture. ]
Are you here to keep pests out of the garden? I'm sure mother will thank you.
[ Speaking of, from somewhere in the garden, a pair of large, fluffy rabbit ears perk up, and a viera woman stands from where she had been bent over tending the flowers. She brushes the dirt from her hands on the front of the well-loved apron she's wearing and wanders over. ]
I thought I heard you come in. Who are you talking to?
Just your new feline friend. I brought your order. Mrs. Shori sends her regards.
Delightful little woman. I'm only sad I couldn't go myself, but preparations have kept me busy. [ She moves to Arthur as he takes the bundle from his chocobo's back and offers it over. She takes it and, being a good few inches taller than Arthur, easily leans over to plant a little kiss on the top of his head, between his ears. ] Thank you, dear little Avi. The Twelve know I'd be lost without your help.
[ Arthur wrinkles his nose at her, but it's a fond sort of gesture. ]
[Morpheus watches from his new perch, eventually hopping down to wander quietly into the stables. An ear flicks as he views the exchange between the two — so this is Arthur’s mother. A clear fondness there, between mother and child, and he is glad to see it. This is a happy dream, and though he has tread across nighttime reveries of many mortals in the past, these are the sort that warms him.
In a bittersweet kind of way.
He walks over to them, a slow saunter, and meows again. Sits, looks up at the crinkling bag of ribbon, tail flicking.]
In a bittersweet kind of way.
He walks over to them, a slow saunter, and meows again. Sits, looks up at the crinkling bag of ribbon, tail flicking.]
Hm?
[ Arthur's mother - Ava, if the dream imparts such knowledge - glances down, and upon spotting the cat, a grin breaks out over her features. ]
My, aren't you a handsome fellow? I'm afraid you'll have to keep your paws away from my ribbon. This is for Little Ladies' Day, you see.
[ She reaches over with her free hand to give Dream-cat a skritch behind the ears, but otherwise her attention turns back to Arthur. ]
Help me with the wreaths, will you?
[ Arthur's mother - Ava, if the dream imparts such knowledge - glances down, and upon spotting the cat, a grin breaks out over her features. ]
My, aren't you a handsome fellow? I'm afraid you'll have to keep your paws away from my ribbon. This is for Little Ladies' Day, you see.
[ She reaches over with her free hand to give Dream-cat a skritch behind the ears, but otherwise her attention turns back to Arthur. ]
Help me with the wreaths, will you?
[Yes, her name does make itself known in his mind. So much of this place feels normal the longer he is nestled in someone’s dream — as if he is a cat, born on this world, following a stranger home and eying a package of colorful ribbons.
But he is not just a cat. He is Dream, and he intends to test his powers a little more, in a way that suits a feline. He gently influences three of the ribbons to slip out of their packaging with little more than his will. They flutter to the ground and he catches them in his open mouth, gently clamping down as not to crinkle them. And then he turns and slinks off and towards the exit.
Follow him, Arthur! Surely you want these back.]
But he is not just a cat. He is Dream, and he intends to test his powers a little more, in a way that suits a feline. He gently influences three of the ribbons to slip out of their packaging with little more than his will. They flutter to the ground and he catches them in his open mouth, gently clamping down as not to crinkle them. And then he turns and slinks off and towards the exit.
Follow him, Arthur! Surely you want these back.]
[ Ava makes a startled noise as the ribbon falls loose and lands in Dream's waiting mouth. Arthur's ears perk in surprise, and he takes off in a light jog after the retreating feline. ]
I'll get it.
[ TIME TO CHASE A CAT ]
I'll get it.
[ TIME TO CHASE A CAT ]
[He bounds away, just far enough to slip out of sight — but not terribly far. Whether that is behind the trunk of a tree, or behind a dazzling array of flowers, or perhaps ‘round the bend of the greenhouse, cat-Dream is gone.
But, instead, Arthur will happen upon human-shaped Dream, crouched down with long, colorful ribbons resting in his hands. He lifts his head and rises to his feet, still donned in all black.]
You have lost something.
But, instead, Arthur will happen upon human-shaped Dream, crouched down with long, colorful ribbons resting in his hands. He lifts his head and rises to his feet, still donned in all black.]
You have lost something.
[ Usually Arthur is quite quick on his feet, but this cat manages to keep eluding him somehow. When he comes around to the side of the greenhouse, he finds the cat... is not a cat?? He stops short, startled. ]
That I have. [ SQUINT ] Dream?
[ For some reason, he can't quite get a grasp on what the significance of him being here is. ]
That I have. [ SQUINT ] Dream?
[ For some reason, he can't quite get a grasp on what the significance of him being here is. ]
[ It wouldn't be the first time a face from the prison inexplicably showed up in his dreams, and whatever bit of real-world knowledge Arthur was trying to grasp just flits away. ]
Oh, certainly. 'Tis no trouble at all.
[ He takes the ribbons with a smile. ] Would you like me to show you around?
Oh, certainly. 'Tis no trouble at all.
[ He takes the ribbons with a smile. ] Would you like me to show you around?
Oh, yes. 'Tis almost Little Ladies' Day. Do you know it?
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