othellovonryan | Sin Dreams

[Donnie has never been the best at boundaries and when it came to information, he was even worse than normal. He can understand private spaces to an extent, but information? Information was only dangerous if it was being used to hurt and its not like he would ever hurt people he cared about.]

[One day he really should get a talk about that.]

[So the dream pendant was an interesting thing to have. It might be a way to mimic what his cameras could do. A means to check on those he cared about without having to really bother them.]

[It was a check up, that's all. This place was murder on his anxiety.]

[Besides, there was an appeal to...maybe not have to deal with his own nightmares for a while.]

[So he thought to check on Korone. If nothing else, to see if she WAS sleeping, he knew she was bad at it, and this was a simple way to do it without fussing.]

[He's pleasantly surprised to find out she's already dreaming. So she was sleeping! That was good, that was-]

[His mind felt.]

[Strangely fuzzy, actually.]

[ Sleep, for Korone, is … difficult.

Sometimes her thoughts won't quieten down enough to let her. Sometimes it's her body, buzzing with anxious, restless energy. Sometimes it's both at once. It's even harder when she's trying to sleep alone. There's something about having company — trusted company, someone she knows implicitly is safe, who won't hurt her and who she couldn't easily hurt by accident — that makes it … easier, to a point.

And sometimes it's just the nightmares. She has them far more often than not, with a range from "anxiety-inducing and uncomfortable" to "screaming night terror she can't wake up from."

All four at once? Ugh. Terrible. Bad, bad, bad. Those are the nights she has to talk her way through panic attacks. Luckily for her, however, tonight isn't one of those nights. She's sleeping alone, but she was tired enough in a pleasant way that she managed to drift off within an hour, sprawled out comfortably in the big round bed that Donnie had crafted for her.

Speaking of Donnie … and of crafting, it's him that she finds herself dreaming of. Or, more specifically, it's his heart. She's wandering along the banks of a meandering river, enjoying the warmth of the afternoon sun and the gentle sounds of nature all around her. The reeds ripple and sway in the breeze; leaves rustle in the forest … birds and other little animals go about their lives, minding their business. It's peaceful. Oddly familiar, though ... she could swear that she's forgotten something, but it seems so unimportant that she shrugs the feeling away. ]

[The place is familiar in a way he can't describe. The smell of fresh water, the sound of wind through the reeds, the warm sun on his skin and shell-]

[He doesn't have his battle shell. Or. Anything. There is an instinctive bolt if fear, but no. No, this is a dream. Korone's dream, which is safe.]

[And this place....feels safe in a way the goes right to the hindbrain. So much so he finds himself drifting to the clear river, feeling the cool water on his scales, but not so cold to make him instinctively want to sleep.]

[It's nice. Peaceful. In a way dreams haven't been in a long time and it's so easy to let himself get pulled along with the logic of the dream.]

[Swimming along in the river until another familiar scent is in the air. Excitement. Want. Changing his path to meet her along the river path.]

[ Is she looking for something? … Yeah. Yeah, that sounds about right. There's something somewhere, in this familiar-unfamiliar forest, beautiful in its tranquillity, and she has to, wants to, find it. But there's no real rush. No sense of urgency. She'll get there eventually, if she isn't found first. ]

[ Awareness, though … that much, she does have. The forest and its river — especially the river — don't belong to her. Korone pauses for a moment, looking around across the rippling, light-dappled surface of the gently flowing river. It's peaceful, sure. Tranquil, definitely. And yet. And yet, there's a wildness to the place that demands respect. ]

Almost feels like I should be taking my shoes off … [ Like she's a guest entering somebody's house. Heh. But then she stills just that bit more, rising up onto her tiptoes, leaning forward to peer more intently at — she could've sworn that she saw something in the water some distance away, moving against the current. Her wings partially unfurl from their neat tuck. She fluffs them and folds them back again. ]

A big fish? Or ... [ She rubs her eyes, blinks, and squints once again. ] Huh. Maybe it was a trick of the light.

[There she is. That familiar, comforting scent of Choco. He dives under the water, moving at a smooth slide, inner eyelids closing so it's easier to see her through surface of the water.]

[He doesn't want to hurt her, of course, but there is fun in a surprise, catching her off guard. Watching her as he moves through the water, waiting for her to get close to the water.]

[ It doesn't take long for curiosity to get the better of her. What if she really had seen something? What if she'd seen what she's been looking for all along? There's no way she can just walk away; she'd never stop kicking herself if she missed out just because she'd been too busy second-guessing herself. ]

[ She makes her way to the water's edge, sliding on her feet down the bank, her wings fluttering once or twice for balance. There aren't so many reeds in this spot, so she's got a nice, relatively unobstructed view of the water ... but between the ripples from the current and the angle of the sun, she can't see if there's anything in said water. ]

[There she is. He thought he was going to have to time it with the bank, but nope, she's wading in.]

[Perfect.]

[He moves along the riverbed, letting some of the silt get kicked up, just to make him just a little more obscured with the current's help. Just enough silt to maybe think it was a rock that got kicked up, nothing suspicious at all.]

[Right up until he gets to her.]

[And then grabs her ankles and yanks her into the water.]

[Though he is careful to make sure she isn't pulled so far she can't get back up to the surface to breathe again.]

[ Something on her ankle, gripping

YANKING

and she doesn't have time to catch herself. She goes down with a yelp and a splash, her flailing wings slapping the surface of the water. She kicks back hard at whatever's holding her, but most of her focus is on getting back up. Relief hits like a knife to the gut when she makes it. She gasps deep and greedy between sputtering coughs, too stunned for the familiarity of the grip to fully sink in. ]

[There is also an airy laughing not too far from her.]

[There is the culprit, looking far too amused with his own actions, but at least making sure she's getting air again.]

[ It's hard to say what hits her first — recognition, or irritation ]

Y-You — [ Donnie. Of course it's Donnie. This is his forest, his river, his territory. ]

[ With an inarticulate (wheezy, sputtering) growl and a massive splash, she lunges for him. ]

[There's a far too delighted chirp as she lunges for him and he lets himself fall back into the water with a smug smirk.]

[After all, he is a lot harder to try and drown.]

[ IT'S EXTREMELY RUDE. Doubly rude that he has the gall to be aquatic; it's going to be hard to drown him in retaliation. ]

Don't! Dunk! Your pigeon!

[ She's still going to try though. It's just. Not very graceful. At all. There's much splashing of waterlogged wings and flailing about as she tries to get at him, and even more as she tries to dunk him under. Which ... honestly, she's probably accidentally dunking herself more often than anything else. ]

[There is quite a lot of laughing, even under the water, even if there's a lot of weird gaping open mouth motions under the water. His breathing underwater is weird.]

[At least she will get to throttle him a lot under the water.]

[ GOOD. RUDE. ]

Ugh, boys!

[ Finally lets him go, turning to "stomp" back to shore. If by "stomp" we mean paddle awkwardly, and uh

Possibly sink if the water is deep enough she can't touch the bottom ]

[It]

[It is, whoops.]

[He's quicker to move to help support her when she starts sinking though.]

[Chirp. Careful.]

Can't tell me careful when you're the one who dunked me in the first place -

[ Scrambles to hold onto him, only to let go again abruptly when she it sinks in that his soft shell is exposed and that she just touched it. She shouldn't do that, right? Or ... should she? Somehow both seem true. ]

Edited 2023-03-13 07:19 (UTC)

[Hand on his back-]

[Panic?]

[No.]

[Mate.]

[SAFE.]

[There was a brief moment of tension.]

[And then a churr as he wraps an arm firmly around her, moving her to the bank even as he nuzzles her shoulder.]

[ He's carrying however many pounds of throughly waterlogged pigeon like she's nothing. Even with the added buoyancy from the water, and her lingering indignation from the dunking, that's still ... ]

[ Maybe it's a little hot. Just a little. ]

Don't think you're gonna get away with this just by being cute. [ GRUMBLES. But even with the griping, she tentatively moves her hand back to where it was, lightly touching the outer edge of his leathery shell. She tilts her head to boop it against the side of his. ]

[There is a shiver that goes through his frame as she touches his back and he chirps again.]

[Safe.]

[He pulls her to the edge of the river and will let her settle-]

[While settling against her, nuzzling her shoulder, hands moving to her side.]

[ n. nooo. no it's hard to be mad at him when he's chirping safe like that. that's unfair ]

...

[ chirps back at him: play? ]

[He trills a bit. Considering.]

[Play. Mate.]

[He nuzzles a little higher, brushing over her neck.]

[ — a sharp inhale. she goes still. tenses. ]

[ but she doesn't shove him away ]

[Safe. Mate.]

[There are more chirps as he drifts lightly over her neck because]

[That's what it feels like. Safety. With a good potential mate. She's cute and warm and he likes her and it feels so simple here to just Act.]

[ Well. This is one way to thoroughly derail her plans. ]

[ Her breathing stutters. She tenses. … Relaxes. Tenses again. Settles, little bit by little bit. She's still nervous, but after that initial brush and the first rush of reflexive fear, it's more … thrilling than scary. Safe. Mate. He doesn't want to hurt her. He's not going to hurt her. ]

I - don't know if I should be letting you do this - [ Her hand shifts up to the back of his neck, curling there, not so much gripping as holding, loose but warm ]

[ Chirps back to him, more tentative, questioning: Mate? Mine? ]

[ Claim? ]

[The touch is gentle. Exploratory. Patience. Something croons in his mind to be patient, what parts of him that haven't submerged themselves entirely in the role that this place brings out.]

[He's doing something to test the waters. He has to wait for a response before he pushes for more.]

[Hands trace circles at her sides, slipping slowly under her shirt and up along her back.]

[Then]

[Those chirps. Those words.]

[He presses closer with a deep, rumbly churr.]

[Mine.]

[Teeth lightly scraping over her neck.]

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