songerein | open 🔸 missing

Who: Ferran & dreamwalkers
Which: Interactive dream
What: A space that could not feel emptier. A family lived here once.
Warnings: discussion of injury and death?? idk

[The smell of ash, scorched metal and melted plastic lingers in the cool air, even though the fire that decimated the once two-story home has long since ceased. The light that filters past the overcast sky sets the blackened wreck in a dreary but clear light, making obvious the fact that the rest of the well-to-do neighborhood was left untouched.

A 17 year old with short brown hair stands at the end of the driveway, his right arm in a sling and his face the picture of grief. Behind him, leaning against the sedan that brought them both there, stands a tall, older man with striking eyes, his arms folded and expression tinted with mild concern.]

You're certain you want to be here?

[The teen pulls his eyes away from the house, finding a familiar crack to stare at on the sidewalk as he sniffs, then wipes his nose with the back of his uninjured hand and tries to steady his voice.]

I had to see it. If there's anything... [His gaze returns to the building.]

Don't strain yourself.

[With a faint nod, Ferran steps towards the ruins of his home, a determination in his posture despite his clear lack of energy. The man by the car doesn't seem intent on helping or approaching, but maybe another soul who might have found themselves in the dream would find it odd that an injured boy is digging in the collapsed mess of material left from an apparent arson.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Joshua gives Ferran time. Space. Two resources that are free to share, but invaluable to those who need it. Given the dour atmosphere, it’s clear that Ferran needs as much of both as possible.]

[When he speaks, Joshua nods, taking it as a cue that his presence isn’t entirely unwelcome. If that changes, he will change his approach without a problem, and completely remove it if prompted. Until then, he will dare to encroach and kneel down next to Ferran. He grips the edge of separate piece of drywall. The material isn’t one he knows, but the consistency is familiar enough that he’ll know how to leverage it properly. Given the circumstances, he’s sure that using his fire magicks to burn it away would be less than appropriate.]

May I?

[He won’t break anything until Ferran gives the okay. He knows he doesn’t have the right.]

[Ferran turns his gaze but not his head when Joshua comes closer, an undoubtedly suspicious look in his grim expression. Right now, he doesn't know what to trust... but if he just keeps this stranger in his sight, maybe...

He could definitely use the manpower, that much he can acknowledge. His response comes out as almost a mutter.]

Be careful where you drop it.

[He doesn't feel like explaining what exactly he's doing, but neither is Joshua asking yet—so for now, that's just fine. For now, he shifts his own piece of rubble, bit by bit.

Nearby are the warped of shards glass of a broken window, scattered and mostly hidden under the pieces of crumbling wood and roof that fell after the fact. With some guessing and investigation of what else remains there, Joshua might pick up on the fact that they stand in the remains of a bedroom.]

I will treat aught with due respect.

[True to his word, Joshua avoids making any violent movements while working away at the material, opting instead to bend and shimmy rather than rip or tear at the larger slabs.]

[This is another example of a structure that’s similar, yet different from what he knows. He understands this is—was—a house, but its charred remains tell a story difficult for him to decipher. As if he were reading a book in a language that is a cousin to his own, with enough cognates to carry the gist of its meaning, but not all.]

[He knows fire and he knows the pain of a home lost. That will have to be enough.]

[He can grasp the silhouette of a bed, of furniture similar to a wardrobe, and other bits here and there.]

Was this yours?

[He keeps the question vague on purpose—a chance for Ferran to answer as much, or as little, as he wishes.]

[His muttered response is bitter, but surely the half-joke is a sign of... something positive? Possibly. Or—it could be a sign that he's still clinging to what he's lost, not yet ready to accept it as gone.]

Still is, technically...

[And therefore, no one can stop him from investigating his own damn home. He would have begged if it came down to it, but thankfully it didn't take much for his... new guardian to acquiesce.

His own efforts gradually unearth a spread of floor in the middle of the room, at least enough for him to start looking there in earnest. There are more collapsed pieces to make it annoying, but it's nothing he can't at least glance under. Talking to himself as he moves to a better place to kneel and look:]

Nothing that could break a damn window is just going to burn up...

[Joshua isn’t about to judge Ferran for clinging to anything while he still can. If he hadn’t been whisked away from his own fire disaster, he’s certain he would’ve been in similar state afterwards. Possibly even to this day.]

[He helps pull away more of the collapsed pieces once Ferran exposes the floor. His eyebrow quirks as he pauses to catch a glimpse of what it is he could possibly be looking for.]

You would be surprised.

[Lots of things that can break windows can burn.]

[But that’s not the point, is it?]

Apologies. I did not mean to offend.

What are you looking for, exactly?

[The look Ferran shoots Joshua isn't sharp exactly, but it doesn't exactly display any appreciation for his remark. His voice is similarly devoid of humor when he replies, low and with an edge of annoyance.]

Anything to prove my life wasn't ruined by hail and lightning.

[He brushes some ash away and moves a few pieces of a roof tile, sifting through to look for... anything. He has no leads, no clues, and no idea the depths all of this is going to eventually take him. He just knows he has to find it.]

[This is (partly) why he’s not one to make jokes outside of those who he knows fairly well (few as they are).]

[He’s said his apologies, so there’s only moving forward from here.]

[The cogs in Joshua’s mind turn as he continues to help move debris around. Ferran’s response provides much-needed context, but just a bit more will help him be of true service.]

Are you looking for practical or sentimental evidence? ‘Both’ is also a viable answer.

Just so I know what to keep watch for.

[Straightforward questioning is a much easier way to get on the boy's good side at the moment.]

I need something concrete to give me a trail.

[Ferran wouldn't deny that he'd appreciate being proven right—but that's not the end goal for him. He has to know the full truth, and make things... as right as they can be, anyway.]

Hell if I know what that looks like, though...

[A part of him knows it's a fool's errand, investigating where the professionals apparently deemed nothing significant. He's done a very good job of ignoring that part entirely. He'd much rather dive recklessly into a potential goal than let himself fall into despair over his future.

Unfortunately, though, the traces left behind are nearly nonexistent. Any potential footprints outside would have been long burned or washed away with the changing weather, how the fire started would have been impossible to discern, and nothing like any clothing or hair or similar materials were left behind to be found.

In the reality of the past, what Ferran did eventually find took more than an hour; he lost track. But he was working alone, limited to mundane expectations, and exhausted from his ordeals physically and mentally. The tiny shards of black magical crystal scattered inside and outside of the former bedroom window were difficult to spot amongst the charred ruins even for someone at their best.]

[Not one easily deterred (and stubborn to a fault), Joshua doesn’t waver at Ferran's uncertainty. Nagging doubts have no place when someone needs help and the perceived impossibility of a task doesn’t change that simple fact. Fueled by Ferran’s own determination, Joshua returns to the search with nary a sound to accompany his understanding nod.]

[He continues to scan the room, eyes darting as he scans for clues.]

[As knowledgeable as the professionals of Ferran’s world certainly are, there is one thing they don’t have on this intruding young man: experience with both fire and crystals alike (as chagrined as he is to have such an acquaintance). As Joshua catches the unique glint found at the edge of a prism, his focus narrows.]

[Careful with the glass, Joshua lowers himself to the ground in a squat by the window. He hums in thought as he presses a gloved finger to the floor and gently traces a line through the tiny, jagged remnants of glass-like mineral.]

Magicks, then…

[Though Ferran turns back from where he's searching at the sound of Joshua's voice, it's a moment before he actually says anything, a furrow in his brow.]

... What did you say?

[His tone is equal parts curious and suspicious—he thinks he heard the words, but they certainly weren't anything that makes sense to him. Has this guy found something? He follows Joshua's gaze to what seems at this distance just a line he's drawn through the ash. Ferran can't detect the magic in his own garnet pendant, so he certainly wouldn't be able to discern anything from the broken pieces of dark crystal even if they were easy to see.

Of course, the minuscule traces of power left in them are largely fire-aspected.]

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