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[inklongdry]

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"Arthur Inkwell here.
I've no earthly idea how this thing is supposed to work, but leave me a message if you're so inclined. I'll retrieve it at some point or another!"

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[inklongdry]

Thank you. I'm sure mother would be pleased to hear such an assessment.

[ He leads the way back towards the stable, where Ava is bustling around, setting aside brightly colored wreaths and bouquets in piles, presumably to be shipped off somewhere once they're done. She has the spools of ribbon set out and is comparing the colors to each arrangement.

Her ears swivel in Arthur and Dream's direction as they approach. ]

I've caught your wayward ribbon, and found a friend in the process. This is Dream. Dream, this is my mother--

Ava Rhen-Inkwell, at your service.. [ She offers a hand, apparently not minding that her palms are dirty with soil. ] A pleasure to meet one of Avi's friends.

[dreamlord]

[Dream takes her hand. The gesture is only a little stiff, a little awkward, but it isn't as though he's unpracticed with meeting new faces; though not always precisely in this way.]

The pleasure is mine. [He does not mind getting a bit of soil on his palms either, it would seem. Handshake completed, he retracts his arm.]

Your son has just informed me about the nature of Little Ladies' Day. You are making decorations for the celebrations? I might assist, if you like.

[inklongdry]

I won't turn down an extra set of hands! I'll have refreshments sent out and we can get right to work.

[ She grins broadly at Dream, motioning for one of the staff to bring something from the kitchen while they work.

And work they do, as Ava gies the both of them tasks that range from gathering the flowers themselves to sorting the arrangements already made to tying bows of bright ribbon onto the bundles. Ava oversees it all with a gentle hand and a bright smile - it's clear she truly does love her work. Eventually, someone appears with a tray of iced tea and snacks. ]

I think you've more than earned a break. Go on, boys. I have some other business to attend to.

[dreamlord]

[Dream works with deft hands — he is, at his core, a creator himself, and he can put together bright bundles of flowers with little to no issue. His efforts are well-balanced and imaginative, floral arrangements that are sure to catch the eye. Or at the very least, they do not look out of place amongst the others.

When Ava arrives with iced tea and snacks, he mutters a low thanks. And, after she leaves to attend to her business, Dream sets down a few stems of flowers and remarks to Arthur—]

You are very close to her. Your mother.

[An easy observation.]

[inklongdry]

[ Oh, you know Arthur's mom is absolutely enamored with Dream's ability to make floral arrangements. Arthur doesn't so much help with the creative process, but he is kept quite busy nonetheless. ]

Hm? That I am. For a long time when I was growing up, 'twas just the two of us.

[dreamlord]

[Gold star for Dream!]

You have no other family?

[inklongdry]

I've my father and brother, though we're not related by blood. Mother married father when I was a child.

If you mean to ask about my birth father, I've no idea who, or where, he is. I always got the impression that he was never the point. I was.

[dreamlord]

[Ah, absent parents.]

My father never much cared for his children, either. But I suppose your birth father is not your true father, in the end. Certainly not the one who deserves the title.

[inklongdry]

I have never considered him thus. I don't think my mother did, either.

A shame father and Morgan are both working. I would have liked to introduce you.

[dreamlord]

Perhaps some other time, then.

[Arthur’s dreams seem pleasant; he does not mind visiting again, if the man allows it.]

What is it they do?

[inklongdry]

Morgan is a soldier, a lieutenant in the city's Grand Company, the Immortal Flames. My father is a librarian and archivist. The librarian and archivist, one might say. He oversees all such places in the city.

[dreamlord]

Ah, so a love of books and study runs in the family.

[inklongdry]

Deeper than you realize. It wouldn't be inaccurate to say that Morgan is, in fact, the odd man out.

[dreamlord]

I see. Well, your and your father, then, might appreciate the Dreaming's library. There hold as many books as you could possibly imagine.

[inklongdry]

It does sound like a dream - no pun intended, of course. I should like to show you Gubal, one day as well. Though, getting in and out is a bit... troublesome these days.

[dreamlord]

[Glances at him curiously.]

And why is that?

[inklongdry]

It has been abandoned for some years now, and the wards and creatures therein now have the run of the place. They don't much care for visitors.

[ Says the man who has broken into Gubal at least twice. ]

[dreamlord]

Have you been even once? We may be able to visit, regardless, if you can recall the place.

[inklongdry]

Oh, more than once. I practically grew up there, and have been back much more recently, despite the best efforts of the wards.

But let's not share that information with my mother.

[dreamlord]

[An arching brow.]

Oh, so you are a troublemaker, too, Arthur Inkwell.

[inklongdry]

[ He just beams. ]

I have no idea what you're talking about.

[dreamlord]

[Uh-huh. Morpheus looks vaguely amused.]

Of course.

Close your eyes and imagine it, then, and I will bring it to life all around us. I am curious to see it.

[inklongdry]

[ What kind of Inception-ass--- I mean, Arthur looks a bit confused for a second, but ultimately obliges.

It would be the spoopy version that he calls to mind, of course. ]

[dreamlord]

[It's a shame he'll not get to appreciate the sight fully, even in its spoopy state. Dream pulls into Arthur's imaginings to change their surroundings, and for a moment they warp and transform without any issue at all, like a watercolor painting shifting colors and brushstrokes into a completely different scene.

It's about midway through this process that Dream feels something stir. Something not quite right. A strange, distant hunger that turns into a sensation not-so-distant, and then suddenly it is at the forefront, and that presence—even in a dream, it's still here?—scrambles to the forefront of his mind, filling it completely with thoughts he cannot be certain are his own. No, they mustn’t be. He’s never felt—

Hungry. Hungry!

Not desperately, not like this. He is Endless, he does not-]

Stop.

[He mutters, suddenly, hand pressing to his forehead. The shifting environment shudders all around them, caught partway through a change.]

[inklongdry]

[ Something suddenly feels wrong and Arthur's eyes fly open - not the ones in the waking world, not yet. Sleep still has an iron grip on him, but dream-Arthur starts, looking around wildly as the world is caught somewhere between his mother's gardens and the great library of his youth. ]

Dream? What's going on?