mr_gaeta: (between ignorance and hope)
Felix Gaeta ([personal profile] mr_gaeta) wrote2014-03-06 10:27 pm

[unknown]

Once upon a time, New Caprica City sat on the dusty mouth of a riverbed.

The alluvial deposits have turned rust red, oxidized by air that scrapes at Gaeta's mouth every time he breathes. He stands at the boundary between water and ground, arms tucked close, shivering as he stares out at the river. The water, too, has turned red.

It's not water.

It laps at Gaeta's shoes -- both shoes, both feet -- and he can feel its sickly warmth even through the thickness of his boots. Every so often, something washes ashore. A torn jacket. A hand. A limb.

(He can't tell if it's his own lost limb or not.)

His stomach clenches, and he can't stop shaking, and his eyes are frozen open: unable to blink, let alone look away from the shoreline.
the_shaper: (king of shadows)

[personal profile] the_shaper 2014-03-07 03:48 am (UTC)(link)
Gaeta would be forgiven for not noticing the sand beginning to swirl behind him.

He would be forgiven for not noticing the gathering feeling of presence.

Black robes flutter in his peripheral vision; if he turns -- if -- there will be nothing there.
the_shaper: (king of shadows)

[personal profile] the_shaper 2014-03-07 04:07 am (UTC)(link)
No one is there.

Nothing but wind, and sand swirling even faster, sand gristing in his shoes.





Behind him, something settles in the river with a sick plop.
the_shaper: (oneiros)

[personal profile] the_shaper 2014-03-07 04:25 am (UTC)(link)
"Enough."





The wind dies down.

The voice comes from behind him (mostly). It belongs to a very tall figure in a dark chiton and long, rippling chlamys.

His hair is very black, his skin very white.

His eyes are a sight with which Felix Gaeta is intimately familiar.
the_shaper: (the lowered brow)

[personal profile] the_shaper 2014-03-08 04:24 am (UTC)(link)
Dream inclines his head slightly.

He does not smile. (He rarely does.)

"At ease. Lieutenant."
the_shaper: (vestments of office)

[personal profile] the_shaper 2014-03-08 04:49 am (UTC)(link)
"Not in this place," Dream agrees -- and whether he speaks of what occurs in Gaeta's waking world, or of what occurred in this bleak delta country, it is unclear.

(It doesn't matter.)

"You find comfort in titles nonetheless."

Beside which, Dream appreciates courtesy.
the_shaper: (oneiros)

[personal profile] the_shaper 2014-03-09 04:03 am (UTC)(link)
"I am the Lord of Dreams."

Unblinking.

"You are Felix Gaeta."
the_shaper: (eyebrow)

[personal profile] the_shaper 2014-03-09 04:13 am (UTC)(link)







"Clearly," says Dream, dry as the dust around them.
the_shaper: (vestments of office)

[personal profile] the_shaper 2014-03-09 04:21 am (UTC)(link)
"Neither are you awake," says Dream, to be helpful.

You know. For the record.
the_shaper: (endless descending a staircase)

[personal profile] the_shaper 2014-03-09 04:33 am (UTC)(link)
Dream's eyes narrow a little. One shoulder lifts, drops.

"You should know," he says, almost absently (and with no blame), "that the way you conceive of time means little when you come to this place."
the_shaper: (the horned gate)

[personal profile] the_shaper 2014-03-09 04:45 am (UTC)(link)
"You visit this place frequently."

Dream lifts his head and looks around -- even though, technically speaking, he does not need to. "Some dreams do not carry the weight of significance for the dreamer. This one, I think, is not one of them."
the_shaper: (hair model for bumble & bumble)

[personal profile] the_shaper 2014-03-10 02:51 am (UTC)(link)
I caused some bad things.

As self-deluding as Dream can be, even he must admit that this resonates.

"This is not uncommon."
the_shaper: (profile)

[personal profile] the_shaper 2014-03-10 03:04 am (UTC)(link)
Dream is silent for a moment.

(The wind dies down again.)

"You hastened the inevitable," he says finally. "It is the way of humans to die. I think you know this."

One white hand extends, one long finger pointing to the river, where a leg below the knee, boot still on the foot, drags slowly across the sand before being drawn into a deeper eddy.

"I do not think you accept it."
the_shaper: (lady macbeth fan club)

[personal profile] the_shaper 2014-03-10 03:13 am (UTC)(link)
Isn't that always the way?

Dream makes no reply.

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