[L's laugh is soft, unpracticed, a touch jittery. He nods; he knows that Myr's experiences with dreams are more in line with what the Fae present that is so very unique to the Mirrorbound experience. More fantastic, more connected... related, perhaps, to the Fade he knows.]
It seems similar, from what I've heard, but... I couldn't conclude that definitively.
[He's limited this way. As he mentioned, before, he doesn't typically dream on his own. It's either black and heavy, or fitful and broken to the point where it never dips into a replenishing REM phase to begin with.]
I'd like that, if you are sure...
[And he sounds like he's tempering his hopes, in case Myr does change his mind]
...we'll go to sleep in the same bed after drinking a bitter herbal tea. Close proximity helps... an experienced dreamwalker can do it at a distance, but I'm not that, yet. As you know.
[He fidgets, clearing his throat.]
A dreamwalker has the capacity to either hurt or heal the mind he's exploring... and dreams can be dangerous.
[Like human dwellings, to mice.]
But, I trust you, and so... it could be exciting...
[A life without dreams--even the limited, crippled sort that everyone must dream, who hasn't a Fade beyond the edge of their waking world--holds a special horror for Myr, being as it is a hallmark of the Tranquil. It therefore doesn't come as a surprise--though maybe it should, and maybe it should worry him--to know his Bonded's experience in the realm is limited. But then, L doesn't sleep nearly as much as he ought, either, and that too was poison to dreams.
Really, knowing that dreamwalking practice would make the detective rest more, even if it's only his body and not his fever-bright mind would almost be inducement enough to do it.]
I'm certain, [he affirms.] I trust you--and Maker, Linden, it's not as if I've not been at risk from my dreams every night of my life. [Except for those months of it he's spent on Talam, where there weren't demons to be had.
It's foolhardy, he knows, to dismiss the risks of an unknown magic entirely out of hand. But they're ones he's well-prepared to take, and not so foreign to be frightening.]
Let's get you that experience. Is there aught I can do to make it less of a risk to you?
[Even if he doesn't find himself in the Fade every night, he's still a lucid dreamer--and when one's dreams came entirely out of oneself, that resulted in something nigh on a Somniari's powers. Too bad he'd such a small space to flex them in...]
[L nods, with the same sort of tempered cautiousness he originally posed the possibility. Because the types of dangers Myr has faced in dreams, and the kind that dreamwalking might pose to their minds and their Bonds, are not necessarily unequal, but certainly different.
He laughs again, the same sort, as one who never quite learned the right or natural way to express something so gentle and sincere. It's an unknown valley between humor and empathy, neither of which come easily to the detective.]
Whatever you would do, to prevent a nightmare. If you dream of a tidal wave, I could be crushed... in a dream of a hungry pack of wolves, I could be eaten. Death in a dream accessed this way doesn't bode well.
[He leaves that hanging, preferring not to go into detail, but he's heard of witches who have died of horrible injuries that no medical examination of their body can detect, no physical healing effort can reach.]
I also cannot overstate the importance of sleeping soundly.
[It's a little uncanny, that laughter, but it's an uncanniness that's of a piece with the rest of Myr's Bonded and so does little to unnerve him at this point. L is his, beloved and brilliant, for all his faults.
The tacit warning and the implicit information the Bond provides on what might happen, should L be caught in the flux of a fatal nightmare, gets a wide-eyed look out of Myr. Here he'd just been thinking of--]
Maker's breath, so I'd really be one of the Somniari, [Dreamers, the spell translates,] at least so far's a visitor's concerned.
[He is not sure he likes having that power; in one way, he'd always held life and death in his hands as a mage (though he'd been kept so hedged and mazed in rules to never consider it that way before he had the sense to not use it), but knowing he could crush out someone's life in a dream and leave them never to wake... That's a different sort of thing again. An inexperienced dreamwalker would be helpless against it.
It isn't fair, is the problem.]
Good thing I've never seen much of the ocean, then, nor'm I much inclined to inviting in wolves. But--point taken. [Sleeping soundly might actually be the harder part, come to think, given his own irregular sleep schedule. But there were potions for that, weren't there? ...Come to think,]
How soundly, exactly? Does it matter if it's drugged?
[He knows himself well enough to mistrust his own impulses when he wants something this badly, to check himself before running off on assumptions. If he were the only one at risk, he might not, but...]
[L cants his head at the unfamiliar term and strange translation that doesn't quite seem to fit, as with a few of the things Myr has imported from his own world and attempts to invoke in such a melting pot of cultures and backgrounds. Would he be frustrated, if he knew? L nods, choosing to trust context in this case; he knows some of Myr's relationship with dreams, and the unique danger they could pose to mages in the Circle.
The point is more important than the details, as they both know. L nods, face remaining drawn and somber even though his eyes are alive with the prospect, nearly eager.]
Soundly enough so you know you won't be waking. Drugged is... how it's normally done, for all but those who have a great deal of control over these matters. When it comes to mixing potions a fair amount of accuracy is assured.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
faithlikeaseed) wrote2019-08-01 12:00 am
no subject
It seems similar, from what I've heard, but... I couldn't conclude that definitively.
[He's limited this way. As he mentioned, before, he doesn't typically dream on his own. It's either black and heavy, or fitful and broken to the point where it never dips into a replenishing REM phase to begin with.]
I'd like that, if you are sure...
[And he sounds like he's tempering his hopes, in case Myr does change his mind]
...we'll go to sleep in the same bed after drinking a bitter herbal tea. Close proximity helps... an experienced dreamwalker can do it at a distance, but I'm not that, yet. As you know.
[He fidgets, clearing his throat.]
A dreamwalker has the capacity to either hurt or heal the mind he's exploring... and dreams can be dangerous.
[Like human dwellings, to mice.]
But, I trust you, and so... it could be exciting...
no subject
Really, knowing that dreamwalking practice would make the detective rest more, even if it's only his body and not his fever-bright mind would almost be inducement enough to do it.]
I'm certain, [he affirms.] I trust you--and Maker, Linden, it's not as if I've not been at risk from my dreams every night of my life. [Except for those months of it he's spent on Talam, where there weren't demons to be had.
It's foolhardy, he knows, to dismiss the risks of an unknown magic entirely out of hand. But they're ones he's well-prepared to take, and not so foreign to be frightening.]
Let's get you that experience. Is there aught I can do to make it less of a risk to you?
[Even if he doesn't find himself in the Fade every night, he's still a lucid dreamer--and when one's dreams came entirely out of oneself, that resulted in something nigh on a Somniari's powers. Too bad he'd such a small space to flex them in...]
no subject
He laughs again, the same sort, as one who never quite learned the right or natural way to express something so gentle and sincere. It's an unknown valley between humor and empathy, neither of which come easily to the detective.]
Whatever you would do, to prevent a nightmare. If you dream of a tidal wave, I could be crushed... in a dream of a hungry pack of wolves, I could be eaten. Death in a dream accessed this way doesn't bode well.
[He leaves that hanging, preferring not to go into detail, but he's heard of witches who have died of horrible injuries that no medical examination of their body can detect, no physical healing effort can reach.]
I also cannot overstate the importance of sleeping soundly.
no subject
The tacit warning and the implicit information the Bond provides on what might happen, should L be caught in the flux of a fatal nightmare, gets a wide-eyed look out of Myr. Here he'd just been thinking of--]
Maker's breath, so I'd really be one of the Somniari, [Dreamers, the spell translates,] at least so far's a visitor's concerned.
[He is not sure he likes having that power; in one way, he'd always held life and death in his hands as a mage (though he'd been kept so hedged and mazed in rules to never consider it that way before he had the sense to not use it), but knowing he could crush out someone's life in a dream and leave them never to wake... That's a different sort of thing again. An inexperienced dreamwalker would be helpless against it.
It isn't fair, is the problem.]
Good thing I've never seen much of the ocean, then, nor'm I much inclined to inviting in wolves. But--point taken. [Sleeping soundly might actually be the harder part, come to think, given his own irregular sleep schedule. But there were potions for that, weren't there? ...Come to think,]
How soundly, exactly? Does it matter if it's drugged?
[He knows himself well enough to mistrust his own impulses when he wants something this badly, to check himself before running off on assumptions. If he were the only one at risk, he might not, but...]
no subject
The point is more important than the details, as they both know. L nods, face remaining drawn and somber even though his eyes are alive with the prospect, nearly eager.]
Soundly enough so you know you won't be waking. Drugged is... how it's normally done, for all but those who have a great deal of control over these matters. When it comes to mixing potions a fair amount of accuracy is assured.