[ When Arthur reaches out across the Murmur, it's a familiar feeling to their dance in the dream; pragmatic, professional, clean lines borne with a subdued grace. Along the edges, there's a subtle warmth, like a stubborn frost being eroded by the accumulated heat of a hearth upon a windowpane. ]
[ A wintry return pulse, fluttering like a bird's wing or a shorn flower, a too-natural capitulation to the bond the Murmur brings. But familiarity gives the sensation new dimension as compared to the dream; Subaru has already felt this man's hands, so what cords his mind and heart are also easy to bear. ]
[ Oh. Huh. That was a friendlier reception than he was anticipating. Not that he thought Subaru hated him or anything.
Something to consider, later. For now, he has a different topic to go over. ]
There's aβ[ Arthur pauses, searching for the best word to describe this. ]βmethod I wanted to tell you about, to help discern a dream from reality. I don't doubt your natural ability to keep both feet on the ground, so to speak, but when we're dealing with dreams like the one we met in ...
[ He trails off, letting Subaru fill in the rest. Sleep's dream (or rather, One's, because Kalmiya had corrected that notion) had been ultra-real, even with the fantastical elements. It catered to the senses and had a solidity that was abnormal by usual human standards. ]
...I understand. [ Robust as his senses are, whittled down to a gleaming edge over the years, they can only account for so much here. ] You've probably walked countless more dreams than I have, so I'd like to hear what you have to say.
[ A brief hesitation only now manifests. ]
There have been points since I woke up here where I've wondered.
[ Something in him relaxes as Subaru acknowledges the informationβwhile the other man hadn't given him reason to think he was prideful or one to scoff at a helping hand, there was always a possibility. Arthur thumbs the weighted die in his pocket, feeling out the indentations of the pips as a blind man would with braille. ] Dunno about countless, I could probably get you a number, if you want data for a comparison.
[ Okay, not the point, but hey. It's there. In case Subaru had any doubt of what kind of person he was. ]
You wouldn't be the first. Don't think you'll be the last, either. This place has a way of blurring the lines. [ His hand closes around the cherry red die, the edge digging into his palm like an odd comfort. ] A friend of mine came up with the theory of a totem; a small, unique object you could carry in your pocket. Preferably weightedβnot a coin or currency, since too many people would know what that feels like.
[ Mirroring Subaru's earlier hesitation, there's a moment of conversational suspension, a breath before the plunge. ] Hers was a little metal top that would spin forever in a dream, instead of toppling.
[ No, there was no doubt. But there is something to be said, he thinks, of data in relation purely to dreams. Many could be driven to insanity by that. Instead...
..."Hers" lands with such softness that Subaru understands on instinct alone that the "was" following it must ache in recesses that he rarely allows anyone to see, let alone touch. Silence follows in acknowledgement, though he measures the weight of its knowing against the light of his consideration. He's trying to help, so he puts his focus in the corresponding place. For now. ]
Assuming its total uniqueness to its owner, that simple object would be difficult to translate into the language of the dream without suspect variations. It's a genius idea, really.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
beginning of the month sometime ig
Hey, got a minute?
no subject
[ A wintry return pulse, fluttering like a bird's wing or a shorn flower, a too-natural capitulation to the bond the Murmur brings. But familiarity gives the sensation new dimension as compared to the dream; Subaru has already felt this man's hands, so what cords his mind and heart are also easy to bear. ]
What is it?
no subject
Something to consider, later. For now, he has a different topic to go over. ]
There's aβ[ Arthur pauses, searching for the best word to describe this. ]βmethod I wanted to tell you about, to help discern a dream from reality. I don't doubt your natural ability to keep both feet on the ground, so to speak, but when we're dealing with dreams like the one we met in ...
[ He trails off, letting Subaru fill in the rest. Sleep's dream (or rather, One's, because Kalmiya had corrected that notion) had been ultra-real, even with the fantastical elements. It catered to the senses and had a solidity that was abnormal by usual human standards. ]
no subject
[ A brief hesitation only now manifests. ]
There have been points since I woke up here where I've wondered.
[ Concession. Weakness. ]
ARRIVES 3000 YEARS LATE WITH STARBUCKS
[ Okay, not the point, but hey. It's there. In case Subaru had any doubt of what kind of person he was. ]
You wouldn't be the first. Don't think you'll be the last, either. This place has a way of blurring the lines. [ His hand closes around the cherry red die, the edge digging into his palm like an odd comfort. ] A friend of mine came up with the theory of a totem; a small, unique object you could carry in your pocket. Preferably weightedβnot a coin or currency, since too many people would know what that feels like.
[ Mirroring Subaru's earlier hesitation, there's a moment of conversational suspension, a breath before the plunge. ] Hers was a little metal top that would spin forever in a dream, instead of toppling.
no subject
..."Hers" lands with such softness that Subaru understands on instinct alone that the "was" following it must ache in recesses that he rarely allows anyone to see, let alone touch. Silence follows in acknowledgement, though he measures the weight of its knowing against the light of his consideration. He's trying to help, so he puts his focus in the corresponding place. For now. ]
Assuming its total uniqueness to its owner, that simple object would be difficult to translate into the language of the dream without suspect variations. It's a genius idea, really.