counting sheep

Reverie Crane. Twenty Eight. Son of Hypnos. House Pali.

[mistress-gif-deactivated2023111]

Tom Sturridge as Morpheus, the Lord of Dreams, The Sandman (2022)

[thesummerfox]

I'm the King of Dreams, ruler of the nightmare realm.

[the-reveries]

@marcos-ontherocks​

"You seem like a decent fellow; I’d hate to kill you.” A thick Italian accent drifted from behind nearby bushes, followed quickly by a lighter English one, “You seem a decent fellow; I’d hate to die.”  There’s a slight swish in the air. “Thank you,” the italian voice replied, sounding awfully pleased with himself. A flurry of metal clinks and clacks fill the air, growing louder as one got closer to the source. Just past the bushes, in a clearing with three partially painted flats, was Reverie and a mannequin with a training foil bound to its hands. The demigod swung his own foil against the dummy, dragging the whole thing with him as he slowly up a rocky formation. “You are using Bonetti’s Defense against me, ah?” Reverie jiggles the dummy as he speaks, still in the Italian accent. He switches quickly to the lighter English accent as he continued his battle. “I thought it fitting, given the rocky ter---” The demigod lets out a yelp as he missteps, slipping off the boulders and onto the ground.

“Oof,” he flinches as his dummy lands on him. “Ow!” Hissing, he pushes the dummy off himself, catching sight of another human face---one he was fairly certain was real. “Uh,” he turns beet red. “H-how much of that did you see?”

[the-reveries]

@goldenskiex​

There were objects made from questionable materials scattered here and there---leading from the main Pali staircase to a training pit outdoors. Reverie sat alone surrounded by a small circle of bizarre junk: A few gelatin pillows, a rosy pink rocking horse that appeared to be made of cotton candy, and a furry green vase with a pair of blinking eyes. “---if you don’t think they’re useful,” the demigod wrinkled his nose, “then you haven’t got any imag---” Reverie’s jaw snaps shut as he spies the tall, burly male. “Oh, hello! Didn’t see you there!” his cheeks turn pink, having just been caught conversing with himself. “Malachi, right? Sorry, about the mess, I’ll clean it up in a bit.” A cat laid stiff on his lap, only it wasn’t exactly a cat. There were pistons along its spine, it tail was coiled brass, and its head---well, its head was a trumpet bell with cat ears. “Oh, uh,” his gaze drops to the abomination in his lap. “Before you say anything, this isn’t real. Not a real cat.”

[blackeyeddog]

[the-reveries]

sunchild-dean​:

Dean had been lounging on a bench in the center of camp, a magical tome placed on his lap, as he attempted to study. It was no easy task keeping up with Wren in the magical department. While they were the most experienced two mages at camp after the influx of departures, he couldn’t help but feel like he was trailing behind. So while his attention was supposed to be on his studies, he couldn’t help but notice the stranger meandering over toward him, pacing back and forth in a daze. 

He watched curiously as the man continued to walk back and forth. Was he… sleep walking? Then, as if in a snap of a finger, it was like he was brought back to lucidity. The red head arched a brow. “I think you were sleep walking bro. Could be from all the stress of this place,” he flashed a grin grin. “You weren’t doing anything but walking back and forth. I would have tried to snap you out of it but I heard that waking someone up while their sleep walking is like… bad.” He shrugged his shoulders before holding out a hand. “I’m Dean, by the way. Are you new here?”

“Oh, no I wasn’t asleep---I just wasn’t here-here.” He glances around, trying to remember why he had ventured out of his suite. “Oh, Reverie,” he accepts Dean’s hand, giving it an awkward squeeze. “Yes, I am new. Very new. Olympus. Very exciting.” He gestures towards some ruins. “Although, I wasn’t expecting there to be ruins around here---not that they’re unsightly,” he shoves his hands into his pockets, rocking back and forth on his feet. “They just seem rather... fresh?”

[the-reveries]

wrxn-blxkely​:

—҉

     “Well that’s fine!” he huffs confidently, “I have night vision…dark things don’t scare me. That’s why I off—” his sentence was yanked to a halt right as Reverie stumbled. Wren jerked to look behind him, spotting a toppled over demigod, with a clumsy body-sized pocket in the middle of the flowers. Heel-to-toe, Wren skipped double time back to over to check on the son of Hypnos; squatting down with knees tucked closer to his chest “Shit man are you okay?” It was a genuine question, though there was but a speck of true worry there—after a few monsters slap you around, bodily harm kind of becomes the least of your worries. However, from one absent minded demigod to another, Wren was positively intrigued by his newly found friend…

   “Rev.” he paused, “May I call you Rev? Uh, who’s your parent?” wondering if there was a connection…because if not, Wren’s following question would be what he was on.

“Yeah,” Reverie lets out a groan as he pushes himself up onto his knees. “I think so...” Other than a bruised ego, he was fairly certain he hadn’t broken anything.

“You mean David Bowie?” He asks, figuring that’s what he meant given the singular use of parent. “Well, people around here call him Hypnos.” There’s a moment of hesitation before he leans in. “I don’t actually know if he’s the real David Bowie,” he whispers as if he were sharing an intimate and scandalous secret. “I mean, it could be him, but my father could have also just used that face because he knew my dad’s always had a massive crush on the singer.” He lets out a defeated sigh, “I just know it drove my dad bonkers---waking up with me in his arms. He’s been trying to reach out to my father since...” A frown tugs at the corners of his mouth, “He’s never stopped trying, and I figured, me coming here would give him some relief---” If he had no memory of Reverie, then there would be no memory of his time with his godly father. And as painful as that would be, he was tired of seeing his dad suffer without the god’s affections. “At least, until I can convince my father to... to make an honest man out of my dad.”

His expression turns apologetic, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to unload on you like that.” The demigod attempts to stand, only to stumble back down with a yelp as a searing pain bolted through his ankle. “Ow! Ow! Okay, so maybe I did mess something up.”

[the-reveries]

@lcthallust

Most cats were masters of stealth, but every now and them came along one as clumsy as a dog. Mr. Whiskers was not that sort of cat. In fact, if it hadn’t been for the bell on his collar, his goofy little tux hugging his body and the top hat attached to his head, the only humans who’d ever known he had snuck in and snatched away a precious item would have been the sickly sort. New to the camp, and far too curious for his own good, the dapper Siamese kitten slipped through the open crack of a window, his bell chiming as he landed softly on the floors of Beau’s room.  He takes is time, admiring and sniffing the contents of his new territory, until something catches his attention. Hopping up to inspect it further, his collar jingling with his jump, the cat lets out a loud purr, pleased with its find. Ears twitch, alert eyes locking onto the demigod’s. He stares, tail puffing up at the sight of him. In a flash, he snatches the item with his teeth and bounds towards and out the window.

Mister Whiskers doesn’t look back, not until he reaches another open window---one with pink and violet mist, bubbles, and soft classical music drifting lazily from it. He turns to stare Beau down, challenging him to follow should he dare. The cat tilts his head back, the top hat giving him an extra dose of cockiness and superiority, and with a light jingle, he and the item disappear into the bubbly mist.

[the-reveries]

@tuckery​

A batch of small bubbles dance past Tucker, carried off by the wind to their final resting place. A second batch was quick to follow, along with a chirp and ring of a bell. A Siamese cat, sporting a tux and top hat leap past the demigod, reaching for the bubbles with its claws drawn out. The dapper creature lets out another happy chirp as it ensure a bubble’s early demise, but its celebration is cut short, as it spots a new victim looming behind Tucker. A giant bubble crept its way towards them, large enough to swallow the son of time right up with room to spare. The cat readies itself, crouching low and waits for the right moment to pounce. “Sorry!” Reverie calls out, sighing as his luck seemed to take another bad turn. “The wind, it... the bubbles follow the wind.”

[the-reveries]

wrxn-blxkely​:

—҉

   Magical creatures and their history had always been a topic of interest for Wren—perhaps even most of those in Mageia. Where Dean had dragons, Wren definitely leaned heavily into fae-anything…if he had to pinpoint it, pixies specifically seemed the coolest, if not, the prettiest for sure. Reverie had popped up, almost like a daydream caught in the moonlight, meaning Wren kind of just went with it; with him. “David Bowie, damn that’s pretty big shoes to fill.” sharing a glance between them, Wren picked up his pace and began shuffling through the flowers allowing his indica high to course through him freely. “I shouldn’t exist either….my mortal mother wished for me, like from an actual falling star and everything. Then nine months later—Voilà” Very few people had heard that story, mostly because Wren didn’t feel the need to tell it, but there was something lulling about the odd demigod. “Okay so” he started counting with his fingers, “there are one, two, okay..four courts and something about a river. We should try and go find it!” he stopped just ahead of Reverie, “Forest of night does sound a bit spooky, but I have night vision so I bet with your knowledge and my orientation skills, it’d be no sweat, right?”

Bearing the child of a falling star made a lot of sense to Reverie. After all, if you really thought about it, they did have a rather sperm like look to them from afar. “That’s far more wholesome than my story!” he chuckles, keeping his train of thought to himself. “Oh, I doubt you’ll see anything. Everything is made of night. Except the singing leaves. They don’t really look like leaves at all, and they glow. The spooky part is near the Autumn Court---” His foot snags on rock, sending the demigod and his sticks flying across the meadow. “Ow!” Reverie groans out, feeling dew drops splattering along his cheeks. He peers up, trying to make out the flowers in the dark, and for a moment he thinks he can see their worried little face peering down at them. “I forgot rocks are real here.”

[the-reveries]

@arinowicki​

“Ow,” Reverie murmurs as he collides against a warm body. It hadn’t actually hurt, the sound came out of him like a reflex, his body deciding it’d be the most appropriate response to the situation while Reverie attended an extravagant ball in his little day dream. “Sorry,” he mumbles out as he turns and tries to continue his trek, only to slam right into something even harder and cold.  “Oh, s-sorry,” he stutters out, his mind struggling to find its way back to reality. “I---” he blinks, the network of pale stone rivers against white dunes coming into focus. Marble. Another blink, he looks up, steps back and realizes... he’d just apologized to a pillar. “Uh,” wide eyes snap to the blond, his cheeks warming up as realized there might have been a witness. “How much of that did you see?”

[the-reveries]

@sunchild-dean​

Daydreams came when they wanted to come, and while Reverie could push it along a direction he wanted, stepping out of it and back into the present took a considerable amount of effort and energy, and worst of all, concentration. The son of Hypnos paced back and forth with a slow sleepy step, only pausing when someone passed by. It wasn’t until his gaze flickering towards the red head did he truly pause and try to process. It was an odd shade of red, nothing like the red of the leprechauns or the summer faeries sported. No, this red was muted and varied and the light danced through it in a way that felt far too real for comfort.

The switch between here and there was not a kind one, and it left the demigod staring at other male with a frown across his lips. “Uh,” he blinks, unable to recall if he’s ever met this one. And... well, unable to recall where he was and how he got there. “What was I doing?” he asks, softly, brows knitting in as he looks around for clues. “Was I doing something? For you?”

[the-reveries]

tuckery​:

“𝐓𝐇𝐀𝐓'𝐒 𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐔𝐍𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐓𝐇𝐘, 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐄𝐒.” tucker tuts for all of a few seconds before he realizes rev’s question, flashing yet another hollywood smile. “um, maybe? i’m kind of a big deal—well, i thought i was—but nobody else around here knows what good cinema is.” 

yes, he had forgotten about yoga entirely; instead, tucker shifts forward as the other shifts away.

“ooh, we can guess each other’s names! here, i’ll go first: john? you really look like a john.”

- Babes. Rev winces. "Not babes and not John,” he informs the demigod as slowly starts to back away towards the exit. Dawn or not, he was getting his cinnamon roll. He already came down and gone through all this trouble, might as well finish his quest. “Although, there were times where I wished my father named me John. I suppose he could have named me something worse, like... Sugar Plum.” Letting out a sigh as he imagined what could have been, Rev gives the other male a dramatic bow. “Thank you for your most gracious performance of a desperate yoga instructor, Mr. Drosselmeyer, but my bed calls me and she will not let me slumber until I bring her back a plate of cinnamon rolls.” He was willing to brave the morning light for such a delight. “Pray for me, I haven’t seen the sun in two weeks. I wonder if it’ll turn me to dust now that I’ve tasted the golden ambrosia.”

[the-reveries]

wrxn-blxkely​:

—҉

   Wren walked in step with Rev, silent with awe as he explained. The air was cool this night and though the moon was half filled it’s light granted enough sight among the foxgloves that it was like the two waded through flowery waves. When it came to minds, the son of Asteria found himself most entranced by them—people, passions, ideas; those were the things that sparked a flame like twinkling stars in others. It’s what made him gravitate to those who weren’t shy with their insights, rather forthcoming. “Aine…A-ine.” he repeated, trying to pronounce it correctly, “Oh wait! I’ve heard of courts I think..there was a book one of my roommates loved. Something about summer or winter courts, I think?” Wren was eager to add to the conversation, even if he was content in just listening. “I wouldn’t say outright that she wasn’t…our pantheon is very real but I don’t think that erases others. I’ve met mermaids and vampires, even what I think was a faerie or elf in this wonky garden once.” he turns, bright eyed again to Reverie, “anything is possible.” 

“More like Anya.” Reverie corrects hims, lips quirking at the other’s attempts. He nods, “Yeah,  they’re courts within the Seelie and Unseelie courts--- the courts break down quite a bit!” Reverie blinks once at Wren’s enthusiasm, before breaking into a grin. “I know! After all, my dad’s tall tale about getting knocked up by David Bowie in a dream turned out to be true.” The grin slips, his brows knitting. “Well, my heavenly parent being David Bowie is still up for debate, but--- my point still stands--- logically, I should not exist, and yet I do.” He takes a deep breath, as if he were about to say something else but confusion crosses over his face. “Uh, where--oh!” Reverie’s lights up once more. “Courts, right! Courts within courts. Along with summer and spring, there’s autumn and winter--- both of which I think I’d have easier time accessing--- we’d have to go through the Forest of Night, but as long as we avoid the River of Time, I’m sure we could get there and back within a night...” the demigod’s voice trails off as he ponders an expedition.

[the-reveries]

wrxn-blxkely​:

—҉

  ‘Different world?’ Wren caught the words but couldn’t pinpoint what that meant yet stayed silent about it for now. 

  Although the details were hazy, Wren could catch Reverie’s attention being pulled off to somewhere. Wren could sympathize with that, his powers were tied to sight and lingering images that were hard to explain. Instead of dwelling he just nodded, letting himself be washed by the stary bulbs that wafted around them, “It’s nice to meet you Reverie.” a smile cracked across his face bashfully, “That’s a pretty name…My name’s Wren, Wren Blakely welcome to camp.” With introduction having been made, he waited to bring in their parents for a bit later, since the topic of faeries outweighed the invisible gods they served. “Oh wow you sound like you know a lot!” he shifts closer to Rev, his eyes almost twinkling with intrigue as Wren adopted the mannerism of what seemed like a six year old. —”You’ll find more often than not, the lores are real…but would you care to walk with me?” he motions out to the flowering moor up ahead, “I’d love to hear what you know. I didn’t realize that the gods had their own faeries or whatever.”

“Well, my dad’s family is Irish. He dropped the Y from our name figuring he’d be taken more seriously in his work living in the south and all. But he was all about faeries, uses them a lot in his work. Plus, he always thought they were targeting him.” Reverie nods, his gaze a bit distant but he follows where ever Wren leads. “Well, yes and no. There’s one goddess--- Aine, the original faerie---they’ve all descended from her. Her children married godlings and creatures within the domains of other gods and had children of their own---faeries of both courts. But---” The son of Hypnos pauses, frowning as he clutches his sticks. “I haven’t the foggiest idea who Aine might be related to within the Greek pantheon, or if she’s even a goddess at all.”

[the-reveries]

wrxn-blxkely​:

—҉

   Cocking his head to the left with a curious expression worming between his brows, Wren just quietly sized the man who had approached him. Clearly new, clearly a night-owl like himself, but there seemed to be a few screws loose or missing with him—it reminded him of a particular son of Hepheastus but equally different; reposeful. “I have a lot of questions but I’ll keep them to your name for now.” Wren just smiled while with a gentle hand his orbs were brought closer to Reverie, each floating irregularly around him. “As for these faeries sadly they aren’t…it’s just me playing with my magic but did I interrupt you searching for some?” The son of stars had never been on a faerie hunt before, kind of pissed at himself for never attempting it whilst enthusiastic to join if he could.

“Oh, right!” His smile turns sheepish. “The name’s Reverie Crane, just got in a week ago--- I think.” Time was always difficult to keep track of, but it was significantly more difficult when you spend most of your time sleeping. “Searching for faeries?” Reverie asks, brows knitting together. The question triggers something in Reverie, and out of the corner of his eye, he spices to mice perched on a rock in safari gear---peering through miniature binoculars. “Oh, I’ve never had to search for them. I could always just---” He stops himself, and laughs. “Sorry, different world. Completely forgot. But, sadly, if we did it now, I doubt we’d have any luck. It isn’t the right time.” He gestures towards the flowers surrounding them. “At least, not for Persephone or Aphrodite’s faeries. That is, if any lore about faeries out there in the non-magical world is true.”

[the-reveries]

tuckery​:

“𝐍𝐎𝐁𝐎𝐃𝐘 𝐈𝐒: 𝐀𝐓 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓,” tucker rebutes, still dangerously close even if he pulls back to waggle a finger in reverie’s face, “but, seriously, the mental clarity that comes with it is second-to-none, babes. just thirty minutes! i’ll even give you a single kiss.“ what could possibly be better than a single kiss from someone as utterly self-made and legendary as the one, the only, tucker rhee? 

“pleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeea—”

no, he was not against begging. and no, he was not going to stop anytime soon.

“Please don’t kiss me,” Reverie’s eyes widen with alarm. “And I prefer my head to be filled to the brim with useless stuff. Absolutely cluttered with it.” He attempts to shuffle away, a hint of shimmering blue dust trailing behind him as he moved. “Besides, I have a bad eye, I ca---” A pause as he squints at the male. “Do I know you?”