open | brain heat meme

[cozen]

WHO: Anyone
WHAT: Nightmares, slumber parties, etc.
WHEN: Throughout Justinian
WHERE: Kirkwall and surrounding areas
NOTES: Ignore the first prompt if you're bothered by bugs. Also, while this is primarily to help people RP about their nightmares, feel free to use it for any kind of RP you want. (I.e., you have permission to set up a truth or dare game at the slumber party.) Talk about dreams OOC over here

This month, our heroes' sleep is getting more and more troubled. Here are some excuses to write about it.

I. SLUMBER PARTY: Mid-month, an infestation of hardy, prolific Antivan fleas requires everyone to avoid spending prolonged periods of time in their bedrooms while local alchemist Lloyd Meyers eradicates the bugs with his proprietary smoke bombs (and an equally proprietary flea bath for the Gallows' many pets). While the rooms air out for two or three nights post-treatment, bed rolls are available on the floor of the unstaffed dining hall. Sleeping outside in the courtyards is also an option, but a sudden squall of a thunderstorm will drive people inside on the second night.

Footnote: Characters who live in the city are welcome to join this slumber party anyway. Maybe they miss the ferry ashore, maybe they're afraid of tracking fleas into their own homes, maybe they already did track fleas into their homes and Lloyd is treating them too, etc.

II. ROOM SHARE: Does the thought of sleeping in the dining hall with all of your coworkers make you break out in hives? Have you missed the ferry on any other evening of the month? Lowtown has inns, and Riftwatch has a docks-side warehouse with a few side rooms outfitted as bedrooms. But there are only so many rooms available, so you might wind up sharing a room (or a bed) with a friend or whoever is nearby and desperate.

III. CAT NAP: A lack of sleep—whether it be from the nightmares, the workload, routine insomnia, or staying up too late playing Truth or Dare during the Antivan Flea Incident—might make a cat nap on a desk, in a reading nook, or over breakfast particularly appealing. And bad dreams don't need more than a few minutes to get rolling.

IV. CAMP OUT: Investigating reports of enemy scouts in the mountains, traveling along the roads to a neighboring city-state on a diplomatic errand, looking into reports of weird magic on the Wounded Coast, or heading north to provide some assistance to the war effort? All might require pitching a tent and bunking down for the night with your colleague, whether you like them or loathe them.

V. NORMAL NIGHT: If you’re already sharing a room or bed with someone, you don't need this post. But you can still use it for your nightmare threads.

VI. BETTER IDEA: Do whatever you want. Live your dreams.

Comments

[staysail]

What's wrong with hermits?

[He pulls his tea closer the moment it's set before him and wraps both hands around the cup. The warmth isn't needed--it's warm enough in the kitchen, and the weather is still fair outside, even off the sea--but it's habit.]

No, I s'ppose I've imagined us taking a part in things. Festivals and holidays, things like that. I'm not there to live in a village, I'm there to live with you. I do like it when we're there--comfortable, easy--and I do like knowing people.

I think the difference is that this-- [He nods, back over his shoulder.] It's work.

[hassaran]

[ She strokes a hand across the back of his neck and shoulder as she retakes her seat, palm still warm from the cups. ]

Your crew was work. [ The arch of a brow substitutes for the rising note that might've turned that into a question. ] I didn't think you separated them that way.

[ She's beating around the bushes, again. Yseult sets down her mug and reaches over the curl a hand around his, or at least around his wrist, to not disturb his grip. ] Could you try, if I asked you to? It could help me. Not to spy on them, just--better understanding. Connections I can't build myself. I can't lead any other way, but people might like me better if they knew you. Would you hate that?

[staysail]

[How to explain to a professional my-work-is-my-life sort of person that there's work and there's work? Actually, it ought to be easy, since for Darras, the Fancy is a life in a way that only Yseult has ever competed for--

But then she asks something of him directly and it's a bit like taking a step in the middle of a swell, when the deck rises up before your foot can even hit it and changes the way you're walking entirely.]

You'd be all right, with that? I wouldn't want to give too much of you away.

[hassaran]

I wouldn't want that either, [ Yseult confirms, with something like a grimace ] and knowing you tells them all sorts of things about me I'd as soon not share. [ One reason for her aversion to talking about (or for the first couple years in the Gallows even acknowledging) their relationship in public. ]

But it could be worthwhile, for us both. Just don't talk about me so much. [ She presses a blunt thumbnail briefly into his wrist to punctuate. ] It's one thing if they get hints, but you don't need to tell them things. And no one wants to hear about how great their employer is.

What do you think?

[staysail]

I think--

[He squirms his hand, twisting his wrist away from that short sharp pressure of her fingernail.]

I think I'll have a hard time not talking about the thing I like most in the world. The thing I love most, actually. How d'you expect me to manage?

[hassaran]

You used to be able to talk about all sorts of things. You didn't win me over talking about me, [ Yseult points out dryly. ] I'm sure you're still more than capable of talking about nearly anything. The sea, your crew, pirate exploits I wouldn't approve, Rosana, your dreams, the perfidy of horses--

[staysail]

I didn't know you to talk about you to you. If I'd have known you, I'd have talked to you about you.

[He cocks his head, though.]

'Perfidy'? New way of saying horses are murderous arses.

[hassaran]

Yes. Talk about any of that. Horses, murder, new words.

[ She makes a lazy dismissive gesture. ]

Arses, even, as long as you don't talk about mine.

[staysail]

[He laughs.]

I wouldn't do that, I keep that topic to myself. What d'you take me for?

[hassaran]

You just said you'll have a hard time not talking about the things you like most in the world. [ She gives him a dry sideways look, finished with a flare of a smile. ]

Good. It'll be good practice for you, remembering how to talk to other people about other things.

[staysail]

[That makes him laugh again, proper and genuine. It seems right to laugh, in the relatively cozy light of the kitchen, even if they're in a less-than-amusing situation.]

Fair point. Though I can restrain myself when necessary, I swear it. Right-- [He slaps his hands on the table, putting a punctuation on this,] for you, I'll try talking, though it's a tall order.

[hassaran]

[ She accompanies his table-slap with a nod, and sets a hand on his when it's settled. ]

Thank you. Should we attempt to go back to bed? [ A mat in a makeshift communal dorm isn't all that enticing, but at least there are fewer stairs involved than usual. ]

[staysail]

[He shoots a glance back the way that they came, and his mouth twists a little, unimpressed. Not with the arrangements, though they're not ideal--but the thought of returning to a half-sleep, plagued with nightmares--]

Thought I might go outside a moment, first. Just for some air.

[hassaran]

[ She nods and pushes herself up from the table. A lean over the back of his chair to press a kiss to his temple is supported by her palm on his shoulder. ]

Don't stay out too long. You won't sleep better soaked.