songerein | [open/dream recording] ⚔️ go to bed barok

Entry tags:

[open/dream recording] ⚔️ go to bed barok

Who: Barok van Zieks and you!
Which: Open log & dream recording (you can't make me make two posts)
Where: An ominous treehouse; shopping district; your dream lantern
What: Spooky dreamotion practice; shopping; nightmare
Warnings: drinking, injury. spoiler free prompts!

A

[Although the situation with Asogi has (somewhat) resolved, the young man has taught him a valuable lesson indeed regarding this world and the danger inherent in a place so affected by the thoughts and feelings of those who live in it—or can even change entirely based on some unknown force, if what he's heard about this last "dreamscape" is true. Plus, the fact that a bottle with a particular label appears as soon as he turns his thoughts to his usual vintage is a piece of evidence he can't deny.

When he feels adequately dulled to the usual hypervigilance and his disdain for how ridiculous magically summoning ghosts sounds, he steps out onto the deck of his chosen lodgings and turns his mind to the idea. What even brought that about? It was only a brief moment, although he'd been taken by surprise to the point that...]

What, then? Imagine I'm about to die?

[That sounds like a grand time. Still, what does he have to lose? A few hours of failed distractions or inadequate sleep at worst?

In the late hours of a few nights in a row, a treehouse perched particularly high among the branches has gathered an even sharper chill than Reverein's current autumn evenings, and the white frost spread along the trunk and walls makes the gathering shadows all the more obvious, blacked out even where the moonlight should illuminate.

The silhouette of the man leaning against the railing above is occasionally eclipsed by something much larger like a hooded figure in a robe, a momentary flash of something reflective held above it—but it only ever remains for seconds at a time before disappearing. Also of note is the occasion or two where—when no one is close enough to be hit—a bottle of wine is thrown to the ground with an echoing crash as if its contents have become offensive to the owner... and the resultant scattering of bats who've decided this dark tree would make for an excellent new home.

Sheesh, all it needs now is a thunderclap.]

[ooc: please feel free to hear his muttering and interrupt him or spin something else off the prompt!]

B

[Unbeknownst to Barok, his nightly efforts have led his semi-sentient tree to turn down the temperature to a particularly uncomfortable freezing, and thus he finds himself in need of... extra insulation. So he makes his way out to the markets, his high-collared cloak over a much more mundane jacket than usual, a little more prepared for trade this time:

His first stop includes Madame Blackbird's shop, where he deposits his torn, bloody clothing for either repair or replication—but she doesn't seem to be interested in the bottle of wine he's attempting to offer in exchange. Instead, she seems to be asking for the retrieval of something, and he shakes his head.]

I can't promise I'd be able to fulfill that request any time soon.

[His second is a bit less intentional, when he gets dragged into an eccentric hatter's after accepting the offer of tea, where he then gets drawn into a conversation about, among other things, the merits of a good top hat. When someone else gets brought into the conversation, whether by will or by force...]

A gentleman should hardly leave his home without a hat. [Should the newcomer be more feminine, however, he follows up:] ... and a lady would surely find use of one in this weather.

[And for the rest, he searches for any makers of the very essential blankets, or quilts, or really any large piece of cloth that might help stave off the cold. There's only so many of those he can carry without looking ridiculous and having a bit of trouble, though.

There are times he leans a bit heavily on his walking stick, or seems to take an especially long break to sit somewhere, his frozen scowl unable to fully hide his exhaustion.]

C dream recording;

[The dream begins in a mundane way: Lord van Zieks standing in the grand courtroom of the Old Bailey, a trial nearing its end. The pounding of the judge's gavel echoes through the room, the weight of his verdict the subject of chattering amongst the gallery. The prosecutor turns to leave, his job done—despite the fact that the defendant was declared not guilty. The accused is free, but only for now. Soon, after all, the Reaper's curse will fall upon them, as is the fate of all who try to escape the judgment of van Zieks. It's far from an uncommon occurrence.

But when the heavy doors close behind him and the muttering is muffled, he becomes aware that something is off. A gilded collar lies around his neck, its decorated edges sharp enough to cut his fingers when he tries to pull it off. He hisses with displeasure, gritting his teeth as he looks down at the scratches.]

What—

[But it strikes him that he already knows what. A chain suddenly yanks him forward by that collar, and he trips over his own boots, landing harshly not on the polished floors of the courthouse, but a barren patch of dirt. A line of graves stands before him once he looks up, stretching out across the cemetery, numbered sixteen in total. No—seventeen, eighteen, nineteen, twenty... Barok's gaze hardens into a glare as he raises himself on his hands, but when he mutters lowly to himself, his voice wavers.]

The world is a better place without them...

[He loses count—or simply gives up counting. When he looks down, he sees that his hands are caked in dried mud. Before him, there's a grave open and waiting for a corpse, and another headstone that he hadn't noticed—carved with his own name. So fixated on that sight and the dread that freezes him in place, he doesn't see the figure that looms behind and raises a weapon to strike him.

The blow is swift once it comes down, and the prosecutor crumples into the hole that he'd apparently dug himself, icy eyes still wide with shock. Above, the figure immediately begins to bury him, and he can do nothing—except wonder if this is the fate he's earned. The last sensation he has is of the warmth of his lifeblood seeping into the cold soil before his vision goes black...]

[ooc: Got something else you want? Let me know at

lumieresdedragon !]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Susato can be seen ever-so-casually stumbling out of a jewelry shop like the teenage girl she is. If she appears a little shaken up, it is 100% because of the store keepers' sheer height, making saying no to them possibly the bravest thing she's ever done.

Despite how beautiful everything was, she looks relieved to be out of there. She resolves to work up the courage to go back another time, and maybe actually find something she likes this time.

Before she can get too far, though, she spots van Zieks, sitting on a nearby bench with his walking stick propped beside him. She gasps and quickly bows, remembering her manners. ]

Lord van Zieks! Hello... How are you faring?

[That is an interesting look he notices on her face before she turns to her typical polite greeting; it's not the sort of look a girl would typically wear after stepping out of a shop with such accessories. He'd expect disappointment more than relief, but then he hasn't stepped inside himself...

Van Zieks only nods his head briefly in reply to her bow, rather than standing and offering responding in kind. He doesn't think she'll mind.]

As well as can be expected.

[He hasn't talked to anybody with healing magic, and the idea sure hasn't occurred to him. It's fine though; he's tired and understandably hurting, but he's not... any paler than usual, and he can hold himself up straight. He's still taking great pains to maintain his appearance, even if he's having to wear less tailored clothing.]

Browsing... I take it? [What he saw in that shop's front didn't seem like anything essential.]

[ Susato doesn't mind. In fact, the response is pretty much exactly what she's come to expect from van Zieks. She looks him over with a soft expression, nodding in sympathy--which also happens to answer his question.

Her eyes glance back towards the store front for a moment. ]

Ah. Yes... I was simply curious about the different styles they have. I believe they call it "window shopping," but... [ Phew... ] I'm afraid they are rather persistent.

...And... tall.

[Persistent sounds typical enough, and if they double-teamed an unsuspecting potential customer, he can see why she'd find that intimidating. The other thing, though... seems a little odd for her to bring up, from where he's sitting.]

One would think you'd be accustomed to dealing with "tall."

[She did spend several months in London.]

[ ...... Mmkay. He's not wrong, and he still gets pity points for sure, being in the condition he's in. Susato sighs, as if she's never heard that one before. ]

Not like this. Not when they are quite easily twice my size, and look at me as if...

[ Prey? Is prey too strong a word? She trails off, but turns back to van Zieks. ]

... You know, I could introduce you if you like.

[ Is she joking... The world may never know. ]

[... for what, so they could make a tall people club? Van Zieks shakes his head.]

My errands for today don't involve trading for jewelry I have no use for.

[He's got his cravat pin and his brother's badge; that's all he needs. Truly a man of simple tastes...]

I have more practical concerns to attend to first.

[ Hmpth... She tilts her head with interest, her hand on her hips, as if to say "why didn't you say so?" ]

Oh. Well, what are you looking for? I could help you.

[Unfortunately, van Zieks sees her offer of help as pity for his wounds, so his instinct is to dismiss it.]

A few [several] blankets and warmer clothing. Nothing strenuous.

[ It is getting colder, isn't it? But she should be used to being dismissed by van Zieks. ]

No... but it must be quite the ordeal, trying on clothes and carrying them with that in the way.

[ She nods to his walking stick. ]

[Well... it's true he might typically have an assistant or suchlike carrying things for him whenever he'd to attend to his errands personally. Even so! He can handle it. He's a grown man, for god's sake.]

I'm certain I'll manage, Miss Mikotoba.

[There may be the slight edge of impatience to his tone.]

[ Deep breaths, Mikotoba. It's nothing personal, he is just a proud son of a bitch, and you know that. You know very well, too, that this man likely isn't used to doing his own shopping.

...Everything is telling her that she should give up now, with a free conscience. Just walk away!! But she shakes her head. ]

I did not mean to insinuate otherwise. I'm well aware you are more than capable of such simple tasks, but... I just hoped to make it easier for you.

...If nothing else, it will be faster, and... there are other things you'd rather be doing than strolling the market, surely?

[... so it's going to be like that, is it? What is it with this sort of tenacity and those from her country—or is it just his luck?]

I'd suggest that there are things you'd rather be doing than carrying my belongings... but that wouldn't be an obstacle to you, would it.

[It's barely a question. What he doesn't understand, however, is why.]

[ VICTORY??? Haha, what's it like to lose, she just doesn't know--

She smiles calmly as she can sense him whittling down, though she can also sense the question burning at the back of his mind. ]

Mm, perhaps I could think of a few things... but none so important.

[ It is getting colder, after all, and he needs to be comfortable while he's in recovery. Point being-- ]

Don't worry. It's no obstacle at all.

[He just doesn't have the energy to argue and he's got other things on his mind, alright, don't take this as a true win—]

Hmph. [Just to show he hasn't accepted this wholeheartedly!] ... very well.

[With a tad more effort than usual, van Zieks gets to his feet with the assistance of his well-crafted cane, absolutely intent on not showing any weakness or discomfort. Best not to waste the lady's time... or take up any more space in her thoughts.]

Perhaps in your "window shopping," you've become aware of a shop which may best suit my needs.

[He might have found a few in his own efforts around the time he first arrived, but he can't say he's an expert in these things. He also hadn't... expected a need for new clothing in a dream world at that point, to be entirely honest.]

[ What is that, a challenge? It felt oddly like a challenge. Susato simply watches as he gathers himself--patiently!--and then leads the way, shrugging. ]

Very well... Have you visited Madame Blackbird yet?

No.

[It feels weird to follow her. Is it weird? Is he just used to knowing exactly where he is or leading the way himself?]

I've considered visiting her to mend my coat, however.

[He's at least heard the name at this point, and seen a few... interesting costumes that speak of an attention to detail. He'd wanted to try a preliminary visit to assure himself of the quality before committing and dragging the bloody set over, so this should work just fine.]

[ Ever mindful, Susato is automatically stopping every few steps, or looking behind her to make sure he hasn't fallen too far behind.

She nods in approval at the idea. ]

I believe she has her own designs as well, if I'm not mistaken? Perhaps something of hers will suit you.

[ Let's find out! ]

[He can keep pace well enough, thank you!! Every time she glances back, though, the breeze may feel a little more biting...]

Perhaps.

[It seems that Susato hasn't been either, given the lack of certainty in her response. But when they make their way to the woman's business, van Zieks is somewhat surprised to see that the Madame sells a number of other things, including some interesting furniture...]

Hmm.

[She has a similar aura to a certain other Madame they've met, but Barok is too distracted to notice quite yet. The pull of the aesthetic is too strong.]

[ ......Susato, on the other hand, certainly notices something. It's hard to place; the colors aren't all correct (far less cheerful), but the aura is there and immediately it feels like she is in a worse mood than before. As she stared her down to the cage that became her dress, her hands feel warm to the touch bordering on uncomfortable, and she knows she has to look elsewhere.

She distracts herself by idly touching the furniture--without paying attention, since she knows that really isn't what Van Zieks was looking for--until finally, she reaches the far back wall, where some long coats hung in a set, seemingly with his name on it. ]

...These feel warm. Look.

[The woman's masked eye stays on them as they examine the shop's goods, and by the time Susato calls him over, even Barok has taken note of the piercing gaze, as if he's being looked straight through. Not that he's about to allow a seamstress to unsettle him.

He crosses the room and distracts himself from the atmosphere by removing a glove to examine the material properly, but the pairing of the two coats side by side, one dark and one red, strikes him as... personal.

Bah. It's just a color, van Zieks.]

I suppose they seem suitable for winter. [He doesn't sound enthusiastic (when does he ever?), but neither does he sound dismissive. Still, beggars can't be choosers, as they say.]

[ That's about as close to a "yes" from van Zieks as she is going to get, she knows. When he removes his glove, Susato is already there to talk it, and his walking stick, because she assumes he wants to try it on. ]

See if they fit.

[ ...Ooh. That's the first command ever she's given to Lord van Zieks...

It feels wrong, breaking societal rules, but... **** it, they're not in ~~Kansas~~ Britain anymore. ]

[Very spicy of you, Miss Mikotoba. Make sure Mr. Vigil doesn't catch wind of the conversation or who knows what kinds of rumors might spread...

But van Zieks doesn't argue, and in fact hands over the items in question once she's clearly offering to accept them, including the more mundane coat he's wearing once he's pulled it off. He takes the black coat off the wall, of course, and while it's a slightly slower process than usual, it's clearly a good fit once he's buttoned it properly. Suspiciously good, in fact. The thought makes him frown briefly, but he doesn't let it distract him as he considers the feel and warmth, straightening out the sleeves.

Did that woman just chuckle to herself across the room? Mysterious.]

... well?

[If they're going to commit to shopping together, Susato might as well provide the service of her opinion while she's at it.]

[ At the chuckle, Susato's eyes zero in on their host, as if she can't believe how rude that was. She narrows her eyes at her, feeling a warmth travel slowly down her arms and out to her fingertips--but just as soon as she felt it, it dissipates. She turns instead to van Zieks, who seemed to be waiting expectantly. ]

...Good.

[ She looks suspicious, though. With her barely-free hands, she does her best to smooth out the coat, as if to feel for any abnormalities. ]

Perfect, even. Do you like it...?

[Despite Susato's help thus far, van Zieks doesn't expect her to actually reach out and touch him, and there's a stiffening to his posture when she does, which is absolutely not a startle. How embarrassing it would be if it were.

He clears his throat. The coat is as well-fitting as it could be as far as he can tell, suitably warm, and with a subtle ornamentation that's almost like a compromise between his usual outdoor wear and his showy regalia.

... What's he going to do, just say "yes"? Pssh.]

It will do, I believe.

[And honestly, the faster he can get this sort of thing, the better. Why is his treehouse so damn drafty!]

[ If van Zieks is definitely not startled, neither is Susato when she gently pulls back. She had thought she hurt him or something, static electricity or some such (had the heat come back?), but--as it turns out!!--he's just being a big baby.

She puts down van Zieks' belongings momentarily and pulls the red coat off the wall. Despite offering it to him, she's holding the coat directly over herself, and taking a peek at it over her own skin. ]

And the red?

[ She tilts her head.

...

......And she slips it on before she can change her mind. It'll be a funny joke, she thinks. It'll be way too big on her; maybe she'll even get a smile out of van Zieks. But as soon as she puts it on, it is as if the coat changes size. ]

...!

B

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