[OPEN] oh, the king

[sunderings]

Who: Sion & You!
Where: The Meshwork.
When: The duration of Chapter 4!
Summary: Dream catch all! From casting spells and engaging in shenanigans to escape match-meetings, to talking to your "other self", Sion's dreams are sporadic???
Restrictions/Warnings: Violence, spoopy imagery, possible (literal) self-sacrifice...!!

❶ You are running for the love of it.
❷ You sink and you cannot breathe, air catching in the throat and refusing to reach the lungs.
❸ You are happy.
❹ You tread upon a pathway comprised entirely of dango.

( all dreams are OTA and written in second person, Sion's POV. tags will be returned in regular third person! feel free to PM or contact me here if you'd like something specific. o9 )

Comments

[somnusrex]

And he sputtered. The idea was so ridiculous - as if the entirety of this place wasn't! - that he wound up grumbling down at his poor, syrup-covered boots atop the dango surface of the path.

"Nevermind, I lost my appetite."

No, not really. He was actually pretty hungry, but Sion was going to be weird at him so he figured he might as well just deal with it until he could find something better to eat than the ground he was walking on. The ramifications of doing so upon this place and the happiness of life and all else mattered not one whit to Ryner. But if countless people were treading this path, that'd be pretty gross to put in his mouth anyway.

"I'd like to take a nap. Wading through this stuff is tiring and troublesome. I don't have a wish, though. I didn't come here with the intention of making one. That seems rude, anyway. Just show up to a place and demand favors? From a Dango God? Besides, what wish can she grant that isn't just more dango?"

Always one for philosophical questions, Ryner smirked.

"Is that your heart's desire? To carry me down the path like a damsel in distress? I'm pretty tired, if you want to so badly I'll let you."

[sunderings]

"You are not the only one who is tired," Sion's riposte is swift, every bit as nimble as the way he gathers Ryner into his arms, holding the other man captive not as a princess—no, such a demon would surely escape the confines of a bassinet carry—but as a sack of potatoes. Over Sion's shoulder, Ryner goes, lifted effortlessly and held securely in place as pretty, gilded heels continue to tread forward.

One should be careful what they consent to, Ryner.

"I have long since grown weary of your bemoaning, and if this should quiet you, so be it then." Huffing in play, Sion jostles Ryner with a purposeful shift of weight, wondering if the other man would squawk in his surprise and malcontent. "Take a nap up there, if you should like, but do not discredit the avatar. If she did not wish to hear the pleas and prayers of others, she would surely see the gates of the castle closed, though I wonder..."

Giving pause as they pass through the gates and into the palace courtyard, Sion is greeted by the sight of topiary—endless and sculpted from even more dumplings.

"...if she is not searching for someone, or waiting for a particular wish which might align with her own."

[somnusrex]

"What the - !"

Yep, he was flailing, hands scrabbling for any sort of purchase on Sion's robes to try to get his center of gravity back. Not that it mattered, because Sion had barely paused, and kicking the guy to make him fall down would be more trouble for him than it would for Sion. As usually happened.

"Yeah? I didn't force you to do this, so don't bitch about how tired you are when you made the choice to carry me, you asshole."

And yes, he did indeed squawk at the shift, once again hoping the idiot currently holding him over his shoulder wouldn't somehow see fit to drop him unceremoniously to prove whatever point he thought he was making.

"You're the guy who came up to me and started the conversation, so if you're weary of my bemoaning I'd say that's your own damn fault!"

But he did stop vocalizing his thoughts on this Dango Avatar, since Sion seemed incredibly invested in the whole thing and who was he to destroy a fantasy? He also didn't really care, for the most part. But since he was stuck up here whether he liked it or not, he just sighed. Grumpily.

"I guess, but we can't find that out until we talk to her, right?"

May as well let the guy have his beliefs. Whatever they were.

[sunderings]

This time, Sion offers no swift return for Ryner's words, his only response a laugh—a sound brimming with warmth, with such a pervasive sense of belonging to the here and now that the simple thought of the moment ever coming to an end is somehow sad—because this is the truest form of camaraderie, this is being (in perhaps a too-literal sense) close to someone: relishing in the yelps, the whining and the abrasive intonations, of a companion who knows you better than anyone.

This is--...

Fun, isn't it?

Smiling, Sion crosses the courtyard and ventures up, into the castle's keep, guided along by exquisite dango detailing, the colors and patterns leading the eye to a chamber where, atop a throne of dumplings, sits—

"Ferris Eris."

—the name, somehow, falls from Sion's lips, voiced not from memory but a simple, innate sense of knowing that the Dango Avatar is so, so much more than a figure of mystique, hailed for her generosity and noble pursuit to unearth the most spectacular dumpling recipe in all the reams.

Ferris Eris, she is his friend. Their friend. Someone who had been lost to Sion without him knowing it.

Setting Ryner down, sticky boots once again touching to dango flooring, Sion's voice is quiet, reverent when he pronounces: "I know what my wish is."

And then you went and made this feelsy

[somnusrex]

At any other time, he'd probably have at least grumbled about the stickiness of his boots and the flooring. But he found himself unable to care, when he heard the tone of Sion's voice.

Sure, seeing the guy having fun was a good thing, although it could be annoying. But this was decidedly different, and Ryner understood as soon as he turned toward the Dango Avatar.

The sense of familiarity was overwhelming, and for a fleeting second, something like hope bloomed in his chest. That they could stay like this, in this ridiculous place, being idiots if they wanted to be. It felt very far away, but he thought he might be able to see it up close someday, if he worked hard enough.

And so, with nary a complaint, he promptly sat on his ass on the floor. It made the boot situation a lot easier, at least.

"Yeah, me too."

His voice wasn't quite as reverent as that of his dear friend's, but it was certainly close. Ryner himself felt as if he'd somehow been smacked over the head with the knowledge of who she was, who Sion was, and he was afraid that if he breathed just a bit too hard, it would all disappear.