[ With that, he's no longer elsewhere, though he doesn't exactly appear before Murphy. Time goes a little funny around Ronan, so that it's impossible to pinpoint the moment he arrived, and instead feels like he was there the whole time.
Only... not as the boy who shares Murphy's face.
The thing that is presumably Ronan looks like a flickering light floating in midair, but it can only be seen out of the corner of Murphy's eye. If he looks straight at it, it's obviously not a light at all, but what it is becomes impossible to determine. Murphy's human brain interprets it as music, then corrects it to the smell of iron, and reconfigures it as the branch of a tree. Look away again, and the apparition is undoubtedly light. It's impossible to keep watching. It's hard to stop looking. ]
[ Murphy doesn't have any time to contemplate how Ronan is going to look because something has happened just then, a blink of an eye. Or maybe even faster or slower. Murphy can't tell. It's just here now. A flickering in the corner of his eye. ]
Ronan [ , Murphy drawls. His name is a passing thought because the light reels his attention. But what he sees is not what he expects to see, the flickering light that's suspended in the air. Murphy isn't too sure what he is seeing.
And now a lot of things are happening simultaneously. His senses go through a rapid cycling, not bothering to slow down for Murphy's brain to process. Iron, it's so strong. It fills the room, fills his nostrils but then it's gone the moment he recognizes the smell and then the light is there splintering like branches of a tree. Or maybe it's an actual branch. He doesn't have time to decide because then it's music.
He looks away from a moment. Murphy closes his eyes, tries to calm the tangle of confusion in his head. It doesn't help, of course, because, like clockwork, it happens again when he looks at it head-on. There's this urge to reach for it, to touch it and Murphy inches forward with his hand reaching out. ]
[ It doesn't feel like anything. As tangible as a thought. Even when Murphy's hand reaches him, Ronan can't be touched. He slips between Murphy's fingers. Through them.
...Into them?
Briefly, the light glides inside his hand, illuminating it. Murphy's veins glow in neon branches spreading up through his arm, before going dark again as the little dream spark slips out of his body and floats back around. ]
[ Murphy's never experienced anything like this in his entire life of seventeen years. There's nothing to feel when they make contact. Or maybe there's no contact at all, something intangible.
His fingers splay, watching the light. The smell. The sound. The thin branching of dendrites. It soaks into his arm, making it glow. Murphy looks around when the glow in his arm dies out. ] I told you I wouldn't shit a brick [ , he murmurs. ]
[ With that same murky shift in time that occurred when the light first appeared, the boy Ronan has abruptly taken its place, sitting a couple feet in front of Murphy. He looks like he's been sitting there a while, only of course he hasn't been. ]
[ The concept of time appears to be self-evident, straight-forward, but it can get very complex very quickly. Time is not always linear.
And, just like that, Ronan appears. A smirk hangs on the corners of Murphy's lips ]. Only if you're a mob trying to kill me.
[ He pauses, gives himself a few seconds to consider his next choice of words. ] So what are you exactly? I thought you said you looked like your dad? Unless your dad looks - is whatever the hell you are.
[ Murphy chews on the inside of his cheek thoughtfully. Ronan can see that Murphy is trying to make sense out of the things he's telling him. ] Okay, so, you're dad dreamt up your mom. And they made you so you're a dreamer dream. Dream dreamer. Are you the only one like you?
[ Murphy plops down onto the floor, sitting across from Ronan. This has clearly piqued his curiosity. ] Do you see and hear things differently when you're-- [ His hand lazily waves into the air, mimicking Ronan. ]
[ Ronan shrugs at the first question. He's only known two dreamers. One was his father and the other one - Kavinsky - is as gay as Ronan, which doesn't exactly lend itself to biological procreation. If dreamers are rare, then dream dreamers are certainly rarer. ]
I don't see or hear when I'm like that. It's more...
[ How to put this... ]
I just know. Like my senses are everywhere. And if I go inside your head, then I know everything you know and you can know everything I know. And if I'm in more than one person, then I know everything they all know. And I can bring us together, like we're all one consciousness... which isn't usually as peace-love-and-harmony as it sounds.
[ Murphy is quiet (a rarity so please take a mental picture of this moment, Ronan), slowly digesting everything that Ronan is explaining to him. ]
It doesn't sound like something I'd want to experience. [ That sounded too much of an overload of information that Murphy could live without. ] Is that how that works when you go into people's dreams?
[ Murphy's assumption isn't wrong. Things have got extremely fucky when Ronan ended up in too many minds at once. ]
Okay, this gets even weirder, so bear with me. I'm not really going into your dream. I'm gonna be your dream. And that's how you'll be able to take what's in your head and bring it out here, because I'm there to open the transdimensional gateway of subfuckery. And because I'm your dream, and I happen to be a pretty damn accommodating dream, you'll be able to control everything in there just by thinking about it. I'll give you whatever you want.
[ In truth, he has no choice but to give it, once he's there. ]
And if you wanna see me in there, with this handsome face and everything, all you have to do is want me there and I'll be there.
[ Murphy understands the words that are coming out of Ronan's mouth. They are all complete thoughts, it's just the application that's got him a little confused. He's still wary, even though Murphy told him before that he wanted to change his room around. ]
Do I just go to sleep on my own or do you knock me out? And, yeah, I'd probably want you there with your handsome face and everything.
[ They're all a little weird in this house even if Ronan has the crown. ]
I didn't mean you literally knocking my ass out. I figured you had - fuck - I don't know, fairy dust? You know like in The Wizard of Oz, when Dorthy strolls through the poppy fields? [ Yes, yes, someone read this to him when he was an innocent child. ] Something like that.
[ Murphy leans back, resting against the bedframe. ] It'll be a little bit before I go to sleep.
[ Ronan does, as a matter of fact, have something that will knock Murphy out immediately. But he wouldn't feel great about handing Murphy a pill that'll send him hurtling into sleep. This whole process is shady enough without the drugs.
Instead, he pulls his bottomless flask from his pocket and offers it up. ]
[ Murphy takes the flask with little hesitation. He does, however, stop to smell the contents inside the flask. The strong smell of alcohol stings his nose and he tries to shake it out. ]
Well hot damn, here we go. [ He takes a generous sip, maybe too big of one for someone who has never tasted whiskey before. The sting is stronger in his throat and it burns all the way down to his stomach, leaving a warm trail behind. Murphy grins through the burn, waits for it to settle before taking another sip. ] I don't like how it makes everything warm.
You'd know more than me. [ He assumes that the older version of himself liked whiskey so maybe he'd grow to like it, how whiskey leaves that distinct warmth in your body. ]
Are you just going to sit here and watch me until I go to sleep? At least turn into yourself, maybe turn into a comfortable pillow or something. [ Murphy teases, taking one last sip before pulling himself up onto his feet.
He wipes the corner of his mouth with a knuckle as he settles down onto his bed. It's early morning, nearly 4 o'clock and he could fall asleep easily now. ] Maybe sing me a song.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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and let me see u
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if you wanna see me i have to show you outside of it
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yeah u got me all curious now
i kinda want to see u first
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i can be there in a second just brace yourself and don't shit a brick
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but how the hell am i supposed to know ur in my dream?
i can promise u i wont shit a brick. [ Murphy literally has no clue what he's about to witness. ]
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[ With that, he's no longer elsewhere, though he doesn't exactly appear before Murphy. Time goes a little funny around Ronan, so that it's impossible to pinpoint the moment he arrived, and instead feels like he was there the whole time.
Only... not as the boy who shares Murphy's face.
The thing that is presumably Ronan looks like a flickering light floating in midair, but it can only be seen out of the corner of Murphy's eye. If he looks straight at it, it's obviously not a light at all, but what it is becomes impossible to determine. Murphy's human brain interprets it as music, then corrects it to the smell of iron, and reconfigures it as the branch of a tree. Look away again, and the apparition is undoubtedly light. It's impossible to keep watching. It's hard to stop looking. ]
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[ Murphy doesn't have any time to contemplate how Ronan is going to look because something has happened just then, a blink of an eye. Or maybe even faster or slower. Murphy can't tell. It's just here now. A flickering in the corner of his eye. ]
Ronan [ , Murphy drawls. His name is a passing thought because the light reels his attention. But what he sees is not what he expects to see, the flickering light that's suspended in the air. Murphy isn't too sure what he is seeing.
And now a lot of things are happening simultaneously. His senses go through a rapid cycling, not bothering to slow down for Murphy's brain to process. Iron, it's so strong. It fills the room, fills his nostrils but then it's gone the moment he recognizes the smell and then the light is there splintering like branches of a tree. Or maybe it's an actual branch. He doesn't have time to decide because then it's music.
He looks away from a moment. Murphy closes his eyes, tries to calm the tangle of confusion in his head. It doesn't help, of course, because, like clockwork, it happens again when he looks at it head-on. There's this urge to reach for it, to touch it and Murphy inches forward with his hand reaching out. ]
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...Into them?
Briefly, the light glides inside his hand, illuminating it. Murphy's veins glow in neon branches spreading up through his arm, before going dark again as the little dream spark slips out of his body and floats back around. ]
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His fingers splay, watching the light. The smell. The sound. The thin branching of dendrites. It soaks into his arm, making it glow. Murphy looks around when the glow in his arm dies out. ] I told you I wouldn't shit a brick [ , he murmurs. ]
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Yeah, you don't scare easy.
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And, just like that, Ronan appears. A smirk hangs on the corners of Murphy's lips ]. Only if you're a mob trying to kill me.
[ He pauses, gives himself a few seconds to consider his next choice of words. ] So what are you exactly? I thought you said you looked like your dad? Unless your dad looks - is whatever the hell you are.
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This looks like my dad.
[ Now he gestures toward the air, indicating... whatever it was Murphy just saw. ]
That looked like my mom. Who was a dream. Dreamt by my dad. Who was a dreamer. Which makes me both, I guess. Or something new? I don't fucking know.
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[ Murphy plops down onto the floor, sitting across from Ronan. This has clearly piqued his curiosity. ] Do you see and hear things differently when you're-- [ His hand lazily waves into the air, mimicking Ronan. ]
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I don't see or hear when I'm like that. It's more...
[ How to put this... ]
I just know. Like my senses are everywhere. And if I go inside your head, then I know everything you know and you can know everything I know. And if I'm in more than one person, then I know everything they all know. And I can bring us together, like we're all one consciousness... which isn't usually as peace-love-and-harmony as it sounds.
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It doesn't sound like something I'd want to experience. [ That sounded too much of an overload of information that Murphy could live without. ] Is that how that works when you go into people's dreams?
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Okay, this gets even weirder, so bear with me. I'm not really going into your dream. I'm gonna be your dream. And that's how you'll be able to take what's in your head and bring it out here, because I'm there to open the transdimensional gateway of subfuckery. And because I'm your dream, and I happen to be a pretty damn accommodating dream, you'll be able to control everything in there just by thinking about it. I'll give you whatever you want.
[ In truth, he has no choice but to give it, once he's there. ]
And if you wanna see me in there, with this handsome face and everything, all you have to do is want me there and I'll be there.
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Do I just go to sleep on my own or do you knock me out? And, yeah, I'd probably want you there with your handsome face and everything.
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You don't want me knocking you out, man. Just go to sleep on your own and I'll meet you on the other side.
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I didn't mean you literally knocking my ass out. I figured you had - fuck - I don't know, fairy dust? You know like in The Wizard of Oz, when Dorthy strolls through the poppy fields? [ Yes, yes, someone read this to him when he was an innocent child. ] Something like that.
[ Murphy leans back, resting against the bedframe. ] It'll be a little bit before I go to sleep.
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Instead, he pulls his bottomless flask from his pocket and offers it up. ]
It's called whiskey.
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Well hot damn, here we go. [ He takes a generous sip, maybe too big of one for someone who has never tasted whiskey before. The sting is stronger in his throat and it burns all the way down to his stomach, leaving a warm trail behind. Murphy grins through the burn, waits for it to settle before taking another sip. ] I don't like how it makes everything warm.
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[ Ronan, at least, has found a great deal of comfort in liquor's warm embrace. ]
Close your eyes and you'll be out in no time.
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Are you just going to sit here and watch me until I go to sleep? At least turn into yourself, maybe turn into a comfortable pillow or something. [ Murphy teases, taking one last sip before pulling himself up onto his feet.
He wipes the corner of his mouth with a knuckle as he settles down onto his bed. It's early morning, nearly 4 o'clock and he could fall asleep easily now. ] Maybe sing me a song.
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