Participants:
| Scene Title | Mental Bloc |
|---|---|
| Synopsis | Delia and Luka attempt to find Tania in their own special way. One makes contact while the other has a solid moment of mental flatulence. |
| Date | June 06, 2011 |
In Dreams
It's been hard to find Tania lately. She definitely hasn't been sleeping much at night, and when she does catch a nap, it's just been shallow catnaps. But unfortunately, there comes a time when the girl is just too exhausted, and actually falls dead asleep. Probably not for long, given her host's taste in music and lighting, but it's just enough for Delia to be able to find her.
And at first glance, the scene looks peaceful. A little cottage by a lake, trees dotting the shoreline and a long wooden dock reaching out over the water in the golden light of sunset. And it's on the dock that Tania lays out, the tips of one hand's fingers dipping in the water, stirring it in a small circle. Lazy.
But it needs a second glance. For one, like all decent horror movies, there's something in the water. Too dark to make it out, exactly, there's impressions of scales and barbs and fangs, sharp fins and talons drifting just below the surface. The trees have a menacing look about them, like something out of Snow White, ready to trap any foolish enough to wander too close. And the house itself, old and abandoned, with oversized spiders skittering just out of sight. Active danger it isn't, but it is all there. Looming.
CRASH!
The ostensibly peaceful scene is interrupted by the sound of a solid Russian body slamming into the pier. Luka lands, face-first, into the wood and grunts, before pushing himself up to a seated position, rubbing his nose. "Unh," he mutters, still trying to get his bearings.
Angry Birds is easier than Confused Russians.
There's a small splash and ripple in the water before a head bobs up. The redhead keeps just above eye level as she approaches noiselessly from the side. She gives a suspicious glance to each side before making her presence fully known, allowing the Russian man to flush out any danger first. It isn't until she's fully satisfied that there's none other than the three minds present does she pull herself up onto the dock.
"Tania," she breathes. Her white sundress clings to her form, drenched from head to toe, she looks more like a drowned rat than anything. "I'm so sorry…"
Tania sits up at the sudden crash, and she blinks at Luka being there. Since when does she dream about crazy homeless Russians? But sitting up so fast seems to make her dizzy and she has to put an arm out to steady herself in her upright position. And that's when Delia pops up. It's hard to say if she's relieved to see her, or if she even understands that Delia is there and not just part of the dream, her expression barely even changes. "Be careful of the water," she points out as the woman gets herself up on the relative safety of the dock.
"It was not your fault, Deliya," she says, sounding about as tired as she looks. But she perks up suddenly, like a meerkat. Alarmed. "Is Sasha alive? Is he alright? They said you were alive, but he keeps threatening my brother. He says, he maybe will shoot him. I think, he says this to upset me, but—" It's a sore point, sore enough that tears start to well up in bloodshot eyes.
Luka, clueless as usual, staggers up and heads down the pier, still rubbing his nose. Ow. "Privyet," he greets. He looks between the two women, still not entirely sure what is going on. (As per usual.)
But when Tania starts to tear up, Luka frowns and lays a hand on her shoulder awkwardly. Pat, pat, pat. "«It will be fine,»" he says uncertainly. "«Where are you?»" That's the purpose of this, right? Luka's not entirely sure.
"Sshhh.." Delia soothes, automatically rushing to the girl to wrap long limbs around her. "He's alive, I think he's fine. I would have brought him with me but— he hasn't been home very much. He's probably looking for you." Of course he's looking for her.
Too blue eyes risk a glance down at the water she just rose from. A small shiver runs down her spine as she spies a spiny dorsal ridge skirting just below the surface. Turning back to look at Tania, the dreamwalker frowns as she sees the dark circles under her eyes, sallow skin, and gaunt expression. "We don't have much time, you're never here long.. Tell me everything you can, for your brother."
The girl holds onto Delia, although it's weaker than usual and she feels even more breakable than she really is out in the world. There's just a moment to bring those threatening tears under control before she glances over at Luka. There's an almost defeated sense to her, like she knows she'll only be able to hold them off for so long. "«You're kind to say so. But I am quite sure… it will not be fine. I don't even know where I am. Just a room.»"
She explains to the strange Russian before she leans back some to look at Delia, her hands still holding onto him. "I am alright. They give me food and my medicine. I do not sleep much, they leave the lights on. Play loud music. I am never sure when it is. They ask what I know. I am trying to say nothing, but he knows I have something to say. But I am… I am trying." She tries to seem a little more up for Delia, but there it comes through, too. She's not sure she'll succeed.
Luka frowns a little there. "«You and Sasha will be okay,»" he insists with an almost insensitive stubbornness. He doesn't seem to quite know what to make of the weakened girl, this weird dreamwalking, or the redhead conducting it all. Completely missing the mark, he takes Tania's wrist and gives it a gentle but insistent tug. "«Come. We'll take you away now and find Sasha later. Come, come."
Delia grabs the girl's other arm and pulls her in the opposite direction, like a people tug of war, trying to force her to stay. Bracing herself against the Russian man's strength, she narrows her eyes and exerts her will against him rather than using muscle. "Stop, you can't take her away. It's too dangerous. Besides, she'd only slip back."
Then she lets go of the girl's arm to lace her fingers together in front of her. "This is all my fault," the anguished sound of the dreamwalker's voice carries through with almost no movement of her lips. She's not being careful and allowing her every thought to project. "Please try to hang on… If they try to hurt you, do what you need to do." The older redhead still isn't aware of what the girl may or may not know.
Finding herself pulled in two directions, Tania can only shake her head and let Delia take care of it. "«I think, it doesn't work this way,»" she tries to explain to him. But her attention turns to Delia, and she puts a hand on her cheek. "You are not responsible for what bad men do, Miss Deliya. It is not your fault. It is not so bad. They have not tried to hurt me. They—" she pauses there a moment, then tilts her head and looks at Delia. "They have a vaccine. For the non-Evolved. For this flu. He offered it to me, but I did not give anything away."
Luka lets go of Tania on that impulse and blinks somewhat blearily. What just happened? But he frowns at Delia and listens to the conversation that ensues. "«Deliya, you did not kidnap her. Er. …Did you?»" That would certainly make this exercise fruitless. "«Are you sick with the flu?»" he asks Tania, somewhat alarmed.
"No!!" Delia protests vehemently against the accusation, "I woke up and she was gone!!" There's a slight quiver of the young woman's chin and above them, the already murky sky begins to shift. Another Russian accused her of something else once, of not being careful and imposing her own desires into the minds of others. The churning of the clouds above them is only one such example.
A swift glance up at the funnel forming has her shaking her head and then closing her eyes to clear her mind and calm herself. "When I release you," is directed at Luka, "you have to start looking for her. Can you travel through stereos too? Or just televisions?" When she opens her eyes, the cornflower color is just a little more vibrant than the rest of her. Even the red hue of her hair has dulled.
"«No, I'm not sick. But they know if I get this flu, I won't survive as much as I know it.»" Although Tania doesn't explain to Luka exactly why that is, it's obvious she's not exactly the most resilient person. "«And it wasn't Deliya who took me. It was soldiers.»"
But she looks up toward the clouds, nervous, but the growl from the water is what really gets her fear spiking upward. Stepping toward Delia, she seems to be having a difficult time keeping herself steady. "You cannot send him. It is not safe. They seem— I think he hates evolved. He calls me a carrier. It is not safe."
She's trying to make her point, but as Delia calms herself, the clouds seem to part to let in the sunshine. But it quickly becomes far too bright, and the growl from the water gets louder and louder, turning to more of a shriek. And Delia knows, Tania's sleep is swiftly coming to an end.
"«Then you needn't blame yourself,»" Luka says with a definitive nod. He rather misses Delia's distress, or at least doesn't connect the weather effects up with her mood. instead he peers curiously at the sky. When the water starts to roil with an upset sea monster Luka frowns and steps towards the girls. "«The pier is not safe,»" he says as he points away. "«And I came out of Koshechka's fridge so I think it is all wires…I can try. I…don't know how to do it on purpose but I will try.»"
Delia closes her eyes and clenches her jaw, attempting to silence the shrieking in much the same way she does for Mister Logan. White noise. Her fingers curl into fists and tremble at her sides as the clouds begin to close over the rays of light. "I can't hold on, Mister Luka, get ready." her voice booms over the cry of the monsters in the water.
"Tania, if you want to send a message to your brother, tell us now. If either one of us can remember, we'll write a note." Delia's memory has been failing her since the injection over a week ago. Vivid dreams seem to disappear upon waking, perhaps a side effect of the needle that induced the dreamless sleep. "Or we'll find Sasha or Mister Logan and tell them personally. We'll find someone."
"Tell him… tell my brother to be careful," Tania says, the emotion in her voice strong enough that the message might be an I love you in disguise, not that Delia's ever heard the Kozlows share such affection. "«Don't tell him I'm afraid, please.»"
The white spreads, bleaching out the scene, the noise pitching up as Tania tries so hard to cling to her sleep. "And I will not mention Mister Logan. I would nev—" But Tania, unfortunately, is no dreamweaver, and the sleep slips out over under her, as it has been doing so often since her kidnapping, and the dream falls apart, leaving the girl huddled in the corner of her cell, tired and feeling very alone.
Luka looks between them, confused for a moment. Holding on…? Oh — the dream. "«I will remember the message. I will pass it on,»" he promises hopefully. "«Do not be afraid, Miss Tania. You will be safe.»" Still, he can't hide the nervousness in his expression there. How can he really promise that? He can't. But no harm in a little white lie, right?
As everything gets brighter and brighter, and shriller and shriller, he clutches his hands to his ears and squints. The dream ends somewhat abruptly, and elsewhere, Luka wakes, blinking into consciousness.
The shriek that pours from Delia's lips as she wakes up echoes the one that came from the water. Sitting up in the makeshift bed she has on the floor of her room, she glances quickly toward the closet, turning toward it and crawling a few feet before stopping. Only then does she remember that she's not alone in the house and she twists around to stare at Luka. The bruise along her jaw has faded to a pale yellowish green that's bound to disappear within a day or two but the haunted look in her eyes is still as fresh as the night the visitors came.
"Please find her," she manages to choke out, "I don't know how… except in a dream." She knows he can't understand her, the few words they've been able to teach each other in passing not enough to convey everything she needs to say. As she draws her knees to her chin and hugs her legs tightly to her chest, the shackle around her ankle makes its presence known.
Maybe it's the shriek more than anything that gets Luka to react. Sitting up, the stocky Russian man may not understand English, but fear is a universal language. And, perhaps moved by the fatherhood he never got to experience, he crawls out of bed to kneel next to her and place a firm, somewhat awkward hand on her shoulder. "It is okay," he says in thickly accented English, giving her shoulder a squeeze. "It is okay."
As for the rest, though, he doesn't quite catch on, of course. Instead, he recalls his dream directives, and he stands, to hunt down a pen and paper. In short order, narrow Cyrillic chicken scratch is written down (presumably, "be careful") and he rubs his stubbly jaw as he peers around. How to get out? Is it even possible for him to do it voluntarily? And how does he even know where to go?
Facing the stereo, he gives it a good, hard stare. The man rubs his hands together, focuses hard on Tania, glares at the electronics with a will, and… nothing happens.
…is he constipated?