WEEK 13 - 01010000 01000001 01011001 00100000 01011001 01001111 01010101 01010010 00100000 01010010

[al2955]

the pygmalion. . . ONLINE CAPTAIN'S LOG: WEEK (13)

saturday (10) survivors Something is different. You can feel it in the air: an ominous presence that weighs down the ship like it's underwater. Try as you might, you can't escape the feeling that you're being watched, the sensation of someone just out of view tailing you. Tensions are high, and paranoia grows with it. You feel it more than see it, and that's what warps your perception of the ship. Is it darker? Are the lights dimming? Who is it that calls out to you? Why is it so cold? Who can you trust? The distinct sensation of not knowing who your back is to wraps around you. There is one thing you can trust in, however; though you feel exposed, you are not alone. Mother is here for you. taken list profiles private conversations setting rulebook ENTER COMMAND_

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[tevinteriscoming]

[With two crystals down now, the red glow in Dorian's chest is flickering, fading in and out. He flings fire mines to try to stop Bull from reaching the third one, but if he manages to get close enough, he can take a swing. Still, Dorian is coming back to consciousness, and he seems to be in pain, clutching his chest as it turns back to blackened rot.]

Stop this! Please, you must stop! Don't touch that!

[qundercover]

[He's deep in battlemode - not really ready to hear any heartfelt pleas to not destroy the obviously evil influence over Dorian. He doesn't pause until after the swing is completed, now that he knows fire mines are coming he's watching for them at least and barrelling through.]

We're getting out of this dream, and you're coming with us.

[tevinteriscoming]

[There's a pained gasp when he strikes the crystal, and his words are snappish.]

Look at me! Can't you see this is killing me?

[He actually looks. Pretty terrible. With three crystals destroyed, the red light illuminating his scars is gone, and the light in his chest faint and flickering. But the rot that came up in the earlier memories, that's still there. It seems to be spreading; he drops his staff to clutch at his chest with both hands, but it's flowing out from between his fingers, dark, dark red like congealed blood.]

Leave me be!

[qundercover]

[He knows it's not smart to approach with the last crystal still place - the pleading is most definitely a trap, but. No one ever accused him of being a good Qunari, especially when it comes to Dorian. Moving closer, to try and talk to him.]

We can't leave you here, you know that. Fought too hard to get here. Come on, concentrate - you aren't dying. Get that big bitch out of your head.

[tevinteriscoming]

[While he's approaching, Addie takes out the last crystal. Dorian collapses to the ground, dark liquid pooling on the floor beneath him.]

[qundercover]

[Moving over to him, gently lifting him so at least he doesn't drown in a puddle of his own nightmare fuel.]

You still with us, kadan?

[tevinteriscoming]

[Still trying to hold all of it in, his palms pressed tightly over his heart, but letting himself be manhandled. He's disoriented - he isn't exactly sure what happened or what's going on, but everything that happened is beginning to come back.]

Bull? I'm - I'm sorry. I've - I'm not certain why -

[qundercover]

[Well, he's still probably pretty fragile, but it's been too long since he's seen him in person - even if it is still technically a nightmare illusion. Pulling him into a hug. Like that might help the idea settle.]

Illusions. Demons. That Queen is fucking with everyone - you're alright though, we've got you now.

[tevinteriscoming]

[Not hugging back, just remaining curled in on himself.]

I don't know what you mean. Alexius, and my father -

[qundercover]

Both fake. It's an illusion - you remember the Cradle? We pulled you out of that one too. You can shake this one off. You remember me, obviously. Clearly this shit isn't going down, not like I'd let it happen.

[tevinteriscoming]

I suppose. [He doesn't really remember it, no. But the words make some sense to him.] Yes, I suppose that none of this is very. Well. Realistic.

[Pulling away from the hug a little, just so he can try to remove his hands where they're holding his heart in place; they still come away wet with dark blood, but he's looking at it curiously instead of in panic.]

[qundercover]

[Looking at it too, but trying not to make too many judgments.]

Demons don't tend to think about constructing something believable generally. More just meant to make you panic and think you're going to die from a blood ritual.

[tevinteriscoming]

No, that's not what this is. The blood ritual was - ah, but does it matter? Not at all.

[He can see now exactly which heartstrings all of this was constructed to tug at. That doesn't mean it isn't succeeding, but the act of observing it clinically is making it more bearable. Some sort of rot in his heart that his father and Alexius wanted to cure - all right. Okay. Fuck that, though. He takes a deep breath and lets it spill out, uncaring.]

Quite enough of that. Give me a moment, I'll bring this to an end.

[qundercover]

[Bull sits back himself for a minute, as the buzzing in his head from the imperfect resurrection returns in full force now that adrenaline isn't fueling him entirely. He feels a little weak, though he'd never admit it. He will admit he will miss that very cool dream axe.]

If it helps, I'll still be here when you leave this time.

[tevinteriscoming]

It helps.

[Dorian shoots him a crooked, tired smile, but nothing more; he wants to concentrate on getting rid of the illusion. He places each of his hands on Bull's forearms, takes a deep breath, closes his eyes, and focuses, as he's been taught to do when dealing with dreams of the Fade. The illusion begins to vanish around him, the dark room giving way to the biolab and his bloodied hands clean.

It takes only a minute before it's gone. He notes the cool, stale air of the ship and, without opening his eyes, leans forward and rests his forehead against his chest, soaking in how solid that presence is that he had expected to vanish with the dream.]

Better? Tell me if you see any stray metaphors lying about I've neglected to do away with.

[qundercover]

[This is romantic, but Dorian is definitely face to face with Bull's mild but sexy injury - it turns out one or two stray metaphors might be a little more permanent. Bull doesn't seem to mind it, or really even notice it. He lets his face rest on top of Dorian's head, because it's nice to feel so physically present again here. It was all too infuriatingly brief the last time.]

Better. Think you managed to mop most of 'em up.

[tevinteriscoming]

[Ugh. Well, he may have just recovered from a nightmare and also have been reunited with Bull after a month, but he doesn't want blood in his hair. Pulling away and frowning at it, but not much. He's got a worse one.

He's suddenly aware that there are other people around them, and that sets him mildly panicking; he's uncomfortable with PDA. Habits long ingrained that if he were going to do this sort of thing, he absolutely must not be caught, and the sort of consequences the many times he has been caught. Much worse when it's this, being a romantic rather than merely hedonist; he'd rather be caught out as a degenerate than he would as a fool.

But the aftertaste of his nightmare is still with him, intended to shame him, instead, making him defiant. He has many flaws, of that he is aware, but this, this isn't one of them. This isn't wrong, it isn't some sort of rot to be excised. The phantom itch of the shame he's supposed to feel, that this nightmare was intended to tug on, is still there, and will probably always be there, but it isn't real. And he doesn't want to allow his father the power to deny him this.

A real, genuine, open-hearted smile for him, for this man who cared for him so unreservedly and deserves nothing but the same.]

So, here at last, are you? Better late than never, I suppose.

[And tugging his face down into a kiss.]