[OPEN]

[evocation]

WHO: Kyna + various
WHERE: All over!
WHEN: June 2512
WHAT: August catchall! Catching up, settling in, all that fun stuff.
NOTES OR WARNINGS: Will add as needed! If anyone wants a starter hmu cephalopods

Comments

[evocation]

Oh, God. She can't believe he's putting her in charge.

"You totally kicked me out that one time."

That counts, right? But then maybe he'd just be trapped in here without her. But okay. Okay, sure, she can make it work. She tightens her grip on his hands, trying to anchor herself, and squeezes her eyes shut. All she has to do is block out everything else and focus, just like during a ritual. Just like last time.

And it takes a moment or so, but it works. She's waking up in her bed, blinking up at the ceiling, her heart still racing.

That must have woken Ian up too, right? God, she wishes she knew the rules for this shit. She half trips out of bed, tries to be quiet enough not to wake up Lance as she slips out of her room.

"Ian?"

[wittingly]

There's a little bit of a delay between when she wakes up and when he does — she might hear it on her way through her door, the sharp sucking intake of breath that comes from someone jerking awake from a particularly unpleasant dream. It takes him a second, but he slowly collapses back down onto the couch right before she says his name.

Not surprising, really. He scrubs at his face, manages a hoarse and quiet, "Yeah."

He's up.

Sorry.

God, he hates that fucking dream. It was a little different this time with her in it, but not much.

[evocation]

Her anger at his lack of action feels distant and distorted now in the way intense emotions in dreams always seem to. It's the fear that sticks with her, less because of her own discomfort and more because of the realization that he must dream about this shit constantly. It makes sense, and she should have thought about it before, but... Somehow, she just never considered it.

Kyna crosses the room and perches on the arm of the couch by his feet, wanting to be close but not sure invading his space is a great idea. She's quiet for a moment, chewing on her lip.

"Are you okay?"

[wittingly]

He moves in that slow, tired way post-sleepers do. One elbow after the other, and then gently hauling himself back a little so he's propped up by the other arm of the couch. He's still a little groggy, never really been a morning person. Or a... middle of the night person.

"I'm fine," he says, and it's tired but honest. He's gotten used to those. The bigger thing is, "Sorry you had to see that."