A Good Dream

November 17, 2015:

Was it her dream, or his? Maybe it was both of theirs. Anything is possible in a dream afterall.

A Dreamscape

A place of their own making.

Characters

NPCs: None.

Mentions:

Plot:

Mood Music: [*\# None.]


Fade In…

It's a wonderful dream. There was a glorious hunt, with an elusive beautiful white elk. It didn't get away: Jes hunted it through the forest, with a grand chase and kill, the elk turning deep red. And she feasted, and the pups feasted. And then they went to play. But then there was danger: a spiritual blackness, and she had to run, because it's body slipped through her teeth like mist. But after a time she's not running alone, there's a bunch of other coyotes with her. Then the dream shifts, to relaxing with a male coyote, and she shifts, and so does he, and the dream is nice, pleasant, he cuddles her. Until the face comes through, Dusty's.

She blinks a little. Surprised but also..not. Jes reaches out and gently brushes her knuckles against Dusty's cheek. The terror of the darkness, a thing she doesn't usually fear but this time, oh this time she had, has faded while she rested with his comforting presence wrapped around her. Maybe it was an omen of things to come, or an echo of her deeply buried suspicion and guilt over what's been happening in the Astral Plane. Whatever it was, it's gone now and her focus is on Dusty. "Hi." Jes smiles.

"Oh. It's you. You're no badger," Dusty scolds her a little bit. His perception of the dream meeting was different. He rolls over, enjoying the thick grass, although it feels wet and a bit cold. "Sneaking into my dream," he observes, with a laugh. "What does that mean?" he says, thoughtful, as if unsure if she's really her, or a dream version, or what exactly. Sometimes dreams are tricksy.

Jes laughs and smiles. "And you're no coyote. I have no idea what it means but I'm glad you're here. Or I'm there." She waves a hand. "Sometimes a dream is just a dream. Sometimes it's whatever you want it to be and other times it's something else, something more." She laughs again. Yes that clears it up, totally. But it's as far as her dream walking studies have gotten. Jes stretches out beside Dusty and props herself up on her elbow. She plucks a blade of grass to tickle his nose with and grins. "So, what do you want this to be, hm?" Her voice low and sultry, and her brown eyes twinkle with mischief.

Abruptly, Dusty shifts. He's massive, more like a bear; he has the full striped head, though, of a badger, and his body is grey. He's stocky and heavy in this form: his spirit is a solid thing, with long claws on wide front paws. "My turn, then!" Dusty teases, able to speak, of course, in the dream. He plops his paws on her belly and leans in to raspberry with his muzzle on her bare stomach.
She rolls onto her back for him. A display of trust she usually reserves for her god alone. Jes laughs in delight and reaches out to scratch under Dusty's chin and then run her fingers up the side of his face to rub behind one ear. "You can do it! Oh and aren't you handsome too." She croons softly. He really is like her. "Wow. My coyote is bigger than normal but you.. awesome. Really." She can't help but laugh again. "I think my opinion of badgers has just changed completely. At least for this one." Jes teases. Then she shifts and stands on all fours to run the top of her head and back of her neck beneath his chin.

He was about to belly-flop on her — since, well, in dreams he can't possibly harm her, he figures— but she shifts, so he flops on nothing, and laughs instead, bonking his shoulder against hers and rubbing his chin over her ears with an automatic lick. "It better, I'm pretty awesome," Dusty answers, with a musical laugh. "Eh, it's just a dream, though," Dusty says, blue eyes amused, not unhappy about that. "Didn't expect you, I admit: nice surprise."
"I didn't expect you either but I'm glad. And it counts, even if it's a dream." She shifts back again and settles sitting up against his side with her legs stretches out in front of her, feet towards his head so she can see him. Jes leans over and wraps her arm around Dusty's side as much as she can and pets him. Her expression is a mix of wonder and pleasure. She's known a few other shifters but mostly Weres and she hates them. None were like her. "I think your bloodline is still strong. Strong enough maybe to keep alive instead of dying out like your father wanted." Her gaze turns speculative for a moment as she considers something. Then she shakes her head and laughs. "Sorry. I've just never.. this is great. Fenris, I've got to sound like a giant dork. I'm usually more cool than this." She jokes.

"I'm -always- more cool than this," Dusty replies with a soft chuckle that resounds in his body. He doesn't shift back right away — there's no reason really, it doesn't matter form right now, not really. "And maybe it is. I had a dream of the Badger last night. We didn't speak. Just /were/. I don't know if there was meaning, but I know he approves of me. At least right now. Or forgives my mistake. I just have to figure out my own self-forgiveness," Dusty says, resting his head down on an extended paw.

Jes nods in understanding. "I think it's just in my nature but I don't give a flying fu-uhdge whether my Father approves of me." She grins. Really she doesn't care if anyone does. She's coyote and she does as she will. It doesn't mean other peoples opinions don't matter to her, they just aren't likely to curb her actions. "But the just being thing I get. I had my pups in Giizihibong. I was there for almost a month and Old Coyote stayed with us the whole time. We didn't talk really, we just were." She'd needed that time, desperately. Then she tilts her head and looks curious. Maybe she shouldn't ask. She doesn't want to cause him pain. It can help though, to talk things out. It's something she isn't all that good at her self but she's learning. "Do you want to tell me about it?" Jes gives a squeeze. "Everyone makes mistakes you know. Some.. some are harder than others to get over."

Dusty reverts back to human. He has clothes, because this is a dream, and he can do what he wants. He likes his t-shirt and jeans. But has big stripes in his hair, thick white bands back through the top, split by black in the center. He wouldn't think to dye his hair in a dream, perhaps. Or being himself doesn't matter, maybe. They don't make him look old, despite his fears; the white is too healthy and shiny. "There isn't much to tell. On a tour, when our first album hit the charts… I drank too much. Nobody was killed, but someone was hurt. It was an accident. And in public. I lost the band, and everything." There were plenty of news stories, particularly in tabloid, about the freakish Dusty Vell, and his band that disowned him. If Jes knew, she may not have connected him to being Dusty Vell.

Jes frowns. She's completely naked. It's her natural state. Clothes are something she wears because people get all pissy, freaked out or weird if she doesn't. And she ditches the damn things whenever possible anyway. "That sucks. If I ever run into any of those bastards I'll kick them in the balls for you. It's not like you killed someone and it was a freaking accident." Her idea of personal loyalty is a little different than most but it is something important to her. You don't ditch your friends or your team mates because they make a mistake or change. Not unless they go batshit insane or full on evil. And then you stop them, not ditch them. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't.. or you should forgive yourself. It wasn't really your fault even." She doesn't follow the news alot and definitely not the tabloids. Jes blinks. "I think.. I think I heard you on the radio." She smiles and runs her fingers through one of those white streaks. "Handsome. Distinguished. Not old at all. I like it."

Dusty drops his head forwards into her hands, the striped long hair fluffing into her palms and between her fingers, and grins. "I don't feel like dwelling on that right now." He also… looks at her body more, with a quiet, non-aggressive curiosity. Now he's seen her naked— but in his dreams. Is that the same? Difficult to tell. "You're lovely, you know," Dusty says, in a humbled voice, eyes slightly closing at the enjoyment of her touching his hair. It seems the Badger likes being petted, just as she admitted to liking. He probably isn't even aware that he does.
She smiles and looks pleased. "I'm glad you think so." Jes scoots closer and tucks his hair back before gently stroking his cheek. She's enjoying being here with him, touching him. Dream or not touch is important to her but people don't usually understand that. Outside of intimate relationships anyway. Blackfeet are an affectionate people and werewolves are pack animals. Even in human form the touch alot more often than regular people. "Don't dwell on it then. Just be here. With me.

Right now there isn't anything else but this, us." Jes cups Dusty's cheek and tilts his head up so she can lean in and press her face to his. Nose to nose, forehead to forehead.
He doesn't change it or up the ante or take it as a signal that he's supposed to do more. Dusty doesn't do any of that. He smiles some and lifts one hand near her throat to play with the edge of her hair, leaving his forehead against hers, eyes examining her eyes, the eyelashes, the angle of her nose, at this close proximity. "I can do that," Dusty says quietly. His type isn't pack animal usually, but can be. And has a fierce devotedness that can come out, eventually. He does have some reasonable dream control, though: the scene has changed, the sky pink — no, it's cherry blossom trees, flowering on delicate limbs.

Her nostrils flare as she scents the blossoms and Jes smiles. "Ooh. Cherries." Her eyes narrow in thought and then she grins. "Cherries and nutmeg and maybe just a hint of pepper. Or spruce and bit of tangerine." The corners of her eyes crinkle in amusement. He doesn't know what she's talking about. "I make soap and stuff. And those would suit you I think." One hand moves behind him to massage the back of his neck. Like he did last time they met she uses her strength. She's not as strong as him but certainly more so than she looks. She doesn't seem bothered by him not kissing her or doing more than look. Honestly, she likes it. People are usually so in rush to do things, even kiss that they sort of seem to miss the point.

Dreams are magical, and they'll be just as strong as each other, able to shapeshift at will, talk freely, anything. A place where those differences don't matter really, except for the differences they choose to have matter. "Soap, huh? Is that a nice way to tell me I smell bad? Even in a dream, I have bad odor?" Dusty asks, laughing, and huffing a breath as she rubs into his neck, appreciative. He puts an arm over her and draws the length of her body against his own. Just snugly, not a sexual position, although his hand is low on hip, somewhat on her rear, it isn't grabby. Just familiar.

She rolls her eyes and laughs with him. She's used to knowing that humans excepted most people are bigger and stronger than her. She's fast though and clever and able to adapt to a situation quickly. It doesn't take her long to remember this is a dream and she be strong as she wants. Jes increases the pressure just a bit before leaning in and nuzzling his neck. It's a familiar sort of gesture too. No kissing or nibbling yet, just her face pressed against his skin, her breath warming him as she sighs contentedly. "I think you smell good. Just your natural smell and also the fact you aren't covered in the crap that people usually wear." She rather hates commercial soaps and perfumes and deodorants. So much smell, so fake and overpowering. "It's like they can't smell at all unless they're drowning in the shit and taking everyone else along with them."
There's suddenly this horrible loud blaring noise. It's an alarm. Dusty's. And sadly, the whole of the shared experience deteriorates, as Dusty awakens, and is pulled out of the churning mix of dreaming experience. The trees fade into green ones, various scents and sensations of the dream that is now just hers alone, picking up into the storyline of fragmented meaning that it was before he came. And the shared landscape narrows to her personal place. Which may seem… lonely, a bit.

Dusty slams his alarm, annoyed, sitting up in bed and grumpily wandering to the bathroom. Was the dream real? Was she really there talking to him? Dreams twist when you're awake, everything that seemed so real might just have been a dream. But it was a good dream. He studies himself in the mirror and sighs, palms on the cool hotel sink.
Jes stiffens at the sound and bares her teeth startled and looking for danger. Dusty fades away into wakefulness while she's looking about and the dream shifts. She sighs and closes her eyes. After a moment the cherry trees come back and Jes opens her eyes and smiles. "Huh. Cool." Then she's coyote and curling up where he'd been lying a few moments ago. She'll probably wake soon herself. She rarely sleeps more than a few hours at a time. It was a good dream. A very good one and much preferred to her usual nightmares of late. Hopefully the forthcoming disaster doesn't hit tomorrow but maybe she'll call him anyway..
Possibly no need to call— Dusty'll reach out first. She'll find a text message on her phone when she awakens, with simply, 'Let's dream again sometime' on it.

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