TDM #7 - April Showers (and Other Weather Conditions)

[perchancetodreammods]

April Showers (and Other Weather Conditions)

New Arrivals

You wake from what should have been a normal night of sleep bolting upright from what is very clearly the bed you went to sleep in that night, but in a strange place. A tower, high in the air, with huge open windows that clouds could lazily float through. Before you is a massive oaken double door, emblazoned with a carving of an eye, and a note on black lies atop your bedsheets. The note instructs you to go through the door and come to a place called the Torn Oak for more answers, and is signed by someone called "the Outsider." You climb out of bed, pull on the door handle, and step out into an ethereal, mysterious, ever-shifting world of dreams.

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Welcome to the Dreamscape. A beautiful, endless dream where you and a bunch of other unique and interesting minds from across the multiverse have been gathered to connect, commiserate, and make the impossible... possible! There are many fantastical locales to explore and even more to come, and you are given your very own Nimbus Cloud to serve as your home. This puffy pink cloud will host a pocket dimension just for you where the only limit to what you can create is your own imagination. Missing personal items or locations from the waking world? No problem--- the only thing you have to do in order to earn feathers, the local currency, is make meaningful connections with others. In fact, making these meaningful connections seems to be the only task assigned to you by your mysterious host, the Outsider.

In order to make your way in this weird and whimsical world, you'll need to form lasting bonds with your fellow dreamers, learn more about the Outsider and their intentions, and stay on your toes. There is something very strange happening here, and despite their jolly demeanor, they are clearly struggling to maintain control of their own domain--- something that could land all of you in danger.

DATE

4/5/2023

THEME

Weather-themed music and springtime!

QUICK NAV

Locations

Feather Info

The Outsider

Constellations

When you join the Dreamscape, you will receive a magical Constellation pendant, allowing you to connect to the DreamNet! The star-shaped pendant, which varies depending on your personal style, lights up and projects a hologram screen that will allow you to send messages, videos, and voice calls. A handy way to stay connected with fellow dreamers on the go that is intuitive enough for anyone to understand, whether you come from a world where email has been invented or not!

Mr. Blue Sky

{Electric Light Orchestra} ♫♪♩♬

Do you have a television in your Nimbus Cloud? Or perhaps you just have the screen of light that can be displayed from your Constellation charm. Whatever the case may be, it flicks on, and the Outsider is in a suit. No, not their usual ornate body suit, but a poorly-tailored black and white business suit, completed with a cloud-print tie. They are standing in front of a map of the Dreamscape, holding a pointing stick. They look ridiculous, even a bit disheveled. As they begin to speak, both their tone and their smile appear to be more forced than usual.

“Good afternoon, Dreamscape residents! It’s spring time here, which means we are officially clear of snowstorm territory and on to warm breezes, lovely flowers, and fresh leaves on all the trees. And of course it wouldn’t be spring without a little unpredictable weather!”

Cloud formations ranging from green to yellow to red began forming on their map, moving slowly across it from left to right.

“As you can see, we have some rather unique weather conditions rolling in! They’ll be rotating through all the locations in the Dreamscape, and changing every few hours, so I recommend that all of you stay up to date. I’ve provided resources on your Constellations and on any electronic devices in the Dreamscape to help you get the latest information on what weather will be impacting you, and what impact it will have on your location! Good luck out there, and whatever the weather, it’s better together!”

The Outsider’s rather cheesy presentation of the newest Dreamscape event, while amusing, seems out of character with their normally heartfelt or enthusiastic monologues. But before you have time to really dwell on that, the sky above you begins to shift and change. The spring time weather conditions are quickly arriving, affecting every location in the Dreamscape, and each type of weather has a magical effect of some kind that is influenced by the location itself and the people in it. You can choose whether to look up these effects and stay prepared or fly blind and hope for the best, but these weather conditions will be affecting every location except inside Nimbus Clouds!

Here Comes the Sun

{The Beatles} ♫♪♩♬

Everyone loves a sunny day, especially during a rainy season like early spring! If you’re in a place with sunshine, you’re in luck.

Clouds part above you, warmth filling the air as the sun’s golden rays envelop you and the landscape around you in a honey glow. As sunlight touches the ground, flowers begin to bloom in droves on any surface it might be reasonable to find them, and fresh green leaves sprout from the branches of every tree present. The sweet scent of nectar and florals fills the air everywhere that this light graces the ground, but the effects are particularly potent in the botanical gardens. The warm and almost heavenly glow from the celestial body above seems to soften the whole world, as if everything is faded slightly like an old photograph.

Breathe in. Take that sweetness into your lungs. Feel the warmth on your skin. You can feel a strange, calm euphoria rise up from your core so strongly that you feel compelled to exhale it out. With the dreamy light of the sun, you are instilled with a nearly overpowering joy. What will you do with this unexpected moment of bliss? Who will you spend it with? Will you reminisce about your favorite times, discover who you are without your burdens, or just allow yourself to float through the merry fields of flowers and forget? And of course, all this begs another important question--- how will you cope when it ends?

Northern Downpour

{Panic! at the Disco} ♫♪♩♬

One of the milder ones on the roster, light rains are the most common weather conditions you will encounter. Ranging from fading drizzles with a bit of sun to gloomy but calm showers, these peaceful storms have a large spread, change intensity often, and last longer than the other weather conditions. Occasionally, these storms can impact a single location for days at a time rather than just a few hours. If waiting out the rain doesn’t suit your schedule, there’s a shop in the Twisted City having a half off sale on umbrellas (making them only one feather, instead of two), but finding the shop is another matter. As with most shops in the Twisted City, it has a habit of disappearing, and reappearing elsewhere… But it’ll turn up eventually. (Probably.)

Whether you’re out in the rain or sheltered inside, the effect of the light rain is the same. As the persistent, musical sound of water droplets striking every surface fills the air and thrums in your ears, you begin to feel profoundly nostalgic, and feelings that you’ve been hiding or ignoring bubble to the surface. While it is up to you if this is enough to compel you to speak on these feelings, you will find that they nag at you, affecting your mood and plaguing your idle thoughts. Perhaps this is the time to have a conversation you’ve been avoiding?

Thunderclouds

{LSD} ♫♪♩♬

Another particularly common weather event that you’ll come across is heavy thunderstorms scattered in amongst the light rain. Much like the former, less intense version, these storms can linger, though not as long, and feature darker skies, heavier showers reaching up to the point of torrential downpours and even flooding, and the distant rumbling of thunder and flashes of lightning. The electricity is usually far enough in the distance that the rain is safe to walk in if you have an umbrella or don’t mind getting wet. Maybe you’re even the sort who likes to play in the rain--- in which case you’re in luck, these puddles are HUGE. However, this is also a great opportunity to huddle up and stay inside where it’s cozy.

Unlike the light rain, however, the heavy thunderstorms don’t influence your emotions. Instead, they are influenced by yours. Those in calm, playful, or romantic moods might see the storms grow a little lighter, the skies a brighter shade of gray, while Dreamers dealing with sadness might find the rain around them to be colder and heavier, or perhaps the clouds above you are darker and crackling with more lightning if you’re angry or scared. If you’re looking to change the vibe, start by changing the mood. Whether the severity of the storm is affected by you or the person next to you, a conversation could be enough to change the weather, and the state of the skies could be an indicator that someone around you could use a friend.

Jump Into the Fog

{The Wombats} ♫♪♩♬

More common at night or early in the morning, there is a slightly rarer chance that you’ll run into a patch of thick fog as you wander the Dreamscape. Dense, soupy, and gray, this fog is so intense it makes it hard to see more than a few feet in front of you, and will chill you down to your bones. Where fog is present, the sounds of the world will be duller, and everything will be eerily still.

This fog is not as innocent as the rain, however, and this is a very severe weather condition. As the cold sets in, sinking through your skin and making you shiver, so does a pervasive sense of anxiety, and a fear of the unknown. Listen closely and you’ll hear strange, unsettling sounds or barely-audible murmurs in the distance. What’s out there? It sounds so close, and yet you can’t see it.

What lurks in the fog is drawn from your own fears, and if you stray too far into the dense clouds, you’ll be met with a source of deep fear or stress from your own mind. Whether that’s monsters, people, places---you’ll find yourself among things that distress you. However, if you find another Dreamer to walk with, you may be able to escape the clutches of the fog. All you have to do is maintain physical contact with your companion. Hold hands, link arms, stand shoulder to shoulder or back to back, whatever works best for you, and as you proceed you’ll find that the fog is confused by the pairing, resulting in a fusion of your fears with those of your companion. Perhaps they conflict with one another, form something altogether new, or even result in something comical. Either way, this will allow you to share your burden with a friend, creating a situation that is easier to handle for both of you. Face your fears together, and the fog will lift, revealing the way forward. Or, if confrontation isn’t in the cards, you can always find somewhere indoors to hunker down and comfort each other until the danger passes instead.

Eye of the Storm

{MARINA} ♫♪♩♬

There is one more weather condition that it’s possible to run into, though this one is far less common and far more severe than any of the others. You almost won’t notice it at first as clouds loom overhead, threatening you with rain but never committing to it, and a brisk breeze blows through. However, the once-gentle gusts will escalate quickly, evolving into high winds with nearly enough force to bowl someone over.

As your hair and clothes whip in the wind, debris from the area begins to swirl around near the ground, and a piece of paper, fluttering in the breeze, flies up and slaps you, sticking to your body with the force of the gales. You peel it away from you and can barely make out the words printed on its surface before the rough winds rip it out of your hands and send it tumbling off into the distance.

Catch me if you can.

The page disappears from view, and there is a moment of complete, terrifying stillness as the tempest gales that seemed fit to carry you off just moments ago just drop off into nothing.

The paper, you realize, is cursed, having chosen you as its target, and from your mind a crisis of some kind is selected from your fears or memories and inflicted upon the surrounding area. This can be a natural disaster, an attacking army or monster, a chaotic mishap, or any other manner of catastrophe big enough to afflict the area you’re in, and it can range from comical to terrifying, all while massive gusts of wind bluster through the area. There are only two ways to end the disastrous effects of the high winds--- either resolve the crisis by overcoming the problem itself, or find that piece of paper and destroy it while the effects of the crisis attempt to keep you away from it, and the winds will persist until one of these things happens. Good luck out there! Maybe if you have an Emergency Wish, that could help you out?

Rain on Me

{Lady Gaga} ♫♪♩♬

As rotating weather effects impact the Dreamscape, this may be a good time to explore previous locations and see how they’ve changed with the weather and seasons. Investigate original locations like the Glass Lake and Twisted City, take the ferry over to Marrow Isle and see how Pumpkin Hollow looks in the spring, or visit your friends’ additions from last month’s wishing contest. Peruse the Locations page if you need ideas on where to go!

With all this rain, we’re sure to see some build-up over the course of this month, which will undoubtedly influence what’s to come, so stay tuned!

Additional Info!

-The Feather Info pages have yet to be updated with this information, but going forward we will be adding a new feather gain category: Shared Joy! You can earn this feather by meaningfully deepening your bond with another person over a shared wonderful moment of bliss. This is a fairly flexible category, but carries some weight. The rule of thumb is that it will count for any joyful interaction that brings characters significantly closer. Cannot be applied retroactively.

- Don't forget that we have a birthday chart for both players and characters!

-Reminder that activity check for March going into April has been waived. Existing players did not need to do AC this past week. Barring incident, it should resume as normal next month.

-NEW PLAYERS! Feel free to request a Discord link!

And last but not least, we have the winners of the wishing contest from last month's members-only event. Votes for first place were given 3 points, second place for 2, and third place for 1, ensuring that each vote was weighted according to priority.

In Third Place was Little Inkopolis & the ColisSeaum. Pearl Houzuki is awarded a free jumbo umbrella big enough for two people to stand under!

In Second Place was Blood Moon Library. Lioriley and Astarion are awarded a pair of stylish raincoats and a two-person umbrella of their own, to share.

In First Place is Rainbow Road. Princess Peach Toadstool and Lucas Kovach are awarded their own bespoke raincoats and colorful umbrellas respectively, as well as a letter informing that they will have the privilege of assisting in the planning of next month's Steamboat Gala. Details on that to be announced at the end of April!

An honorable mention to CB Ranch and Ambrosia Lounge, which tied for fourth place and were not far behind! A huge huge HUGE thank you to everyone who participated in making last month's event fun and filled with player participation!

Comments

John Rambo || FIRST BLOOD/RAMBO Franchise

[theydrewfirstblood]

Thunderclouds {{CW: allusions to self harm}}

When John wakes up…he’s back.

A year ago he opened his eyes to find himself in the tiny shack of a Taiwanese family he’d traded with—fix their truck in exchange for food and shelter. From there, haunted by the dream, by the blue eyes and soft smile of the man he’d lost his heart to, John found his way to a Buddhist monastery that let him help out and stay with them.

When the pain of loss and the longing got too bad, he went into Bangkok. The fights paid well, it helped the monks—and the pain in the aftermath kept the memory sharp. Like his broken heart was seeping into muscle and bone, branding Jack’s name on his marrow so he would never forget.

Then he wakes up in his bed. At the ranch, amidst pillows and blankets that still smell like him.

…like Jack.

Just thinking his name hurts, and as John searches the house and emerges outside, barefoot and wearing only jeans, the torrential downpour of steady, icy rain that stings his skin when he walks out into it is a perfect reflection of his agonizing loneliness and fear.

Fear of what he might find…and who he might not, depending on how much time has passed.

Fog

John is walking through the Twisted City, restless and on edge when the fog starts rolling in.

He doesn’t think much of it at first—by now he’s aware of the strange weather rolling through the Dreamscape. He doesn’t like it, doesn’t like what he’s seen so far—doesn’t like things he can’t control.

He likes this even less, as the fog grows thicker and the world narrows to a sheet of white hovering in front of him…

Until he hears distant sounds. Voices, water…the scurry and scratch of tiny rodent feet.

Until he extends a shaking hand, feels the slide of cold, wet stone under his fingers, and knows what the fog is hiding. He can still hear the roar of the cave in, the teeth of the rats digging into his back…he’s so choked by fear and panic he can no longer remember the sweet smell of fresh air when he found his way to freedom.

He has no torch this time, no way out—and no one to turn to as he finds himself trapped in the vapor-drenched corridors of the abandoned Washington mine again.

Fog! Now with stabby stabby FUN

[prise_de_fer]

By now Mo'rtajha's managed a decent wardrobe with sturdy boots and fingerless gloves, the rest is thick leathers to reinforce weaker spots, covering breezy fabric that allows the spry miqo'te her full range of movement. Now she feels like a proper adventurer, just like the tales! Or she would, if she had rapier and focus in hand, but surely her magicks could be enough to keep her safe in this strange new world...right?

As fog rolls in, encroaching on what had felt like a safe place moments before, pushing inwards to catch at her clothes, her swishing tail. Each wisp turns Mo'rtajha around and around in hopeless circle, lost in a wall of grey accompanied by the chittering of small creatures she can't see. And there's another sound besides, another creature perhaps?

"Ooooh, hells!" Mort mutters the curse under her breath, and rolls her hand out. A small ball of fiery energy begins to form, enough to reveal the stone walls of a cave. Just enough to give her an idea of her surrounds before the flame is snuffed out, unable to be sustained with her focus. She turns towards the other sound, following it along the wall with one hand to it. With her back turn, Mo'rtajha doesn't notice a golden glint of a candle behind her, a dark form starting to take shape.

"Hello? Is anyone there?"

[theydrewfirstblood]

The light draws John's attention. Swallowing past the knot of fear in his throat and feeling strangely helpless without a weapon, he moves towards the light. Gradually he makes out a shape, too slight and too slim. He catches the sound of cursing--a female voice, light and sweet.

Then he catches something else as the form grows clearer, sharper (Christ, were those cat ears?)--the glint of steel.

He doesn't think, just reaches out to grab the woman's arm and pull her against him--out of range of the tiny creature and its knife.

"Sorry." he manages to croak, keeping an eye on the movement of...

...the...homicidal turtle?...

[prise_de_fer]

Just as Mo'rtajha makes out the shape of a man she's suddenly grabbed and pressed in against him. A yelp of surprise echoes off the cave walls, temporarily scattering the noise of rats and the encroaching tonberry. The tiny creature doesn't stop its slow advance, but continues forward unhurried as always.

"Ser!?" She exclaims, and does her best to wriggle around in his grasp. At first it's so she could figure out who grabbed her, but then she notices the rats. And the tonberry, at last.

"Oh, seven hells...we must needs get out of here!" Although her tone is panicked, Mort does conjure another small ball of fire and flicks it in the tonberry's direction. The splash of flame makes the surrounding rodents scurry off. The murderous little fiend takes another step forward as if nothing happened. "Ser, please!? Let's get out of here!"

Fog

[bigbadrose]

Rose whistles quietly, to herself. Her worst fear? The death of everything. It's kind of strange to think that it's something she might witness again. She's seen the death of Earth multiple times now, and it's always the darkness that gets to her in the end, when there's nothing else. The ultimate void between universes where not even light exists. Maybe that's why Genesis stars with light. She backs into John, rather suddenly and startles at there suddenly being a presence there! "Who's there?!"

[theydrewfirstblood]

John acts on reflex—the moment he feels the contact against his unprotected back he lashes out.

A hand catches something, pulls it in—and he finds a slim shoulder in his grip, and as he’s spun the figure to face him, familiar dark eyes looking into his.

Relief tears through the fear, but fear rises back up quickly because now she’s in here with him. Not her, anyone else but not…

“Rose.” John breathes, wrapping her in a fierce embrace. A year away from all of this, from the dreamworld that’s become his home, but worst being away from the people, from Jack, and from Rose…

“Are you hurt?” He asks, pulling back and running his hands over her arms to check her. “This place—there’s rats—you all right?”

[bigbadrose]

"John!" A glomping hug!

Rats, huh? Everyone's got a fear of something, after all. "I'm all right. But don't let go of my hand. Don't want you flyin' off into the void, okay?"

[theydrewfirstblood]

“Never again.” John swore, immediately meshing his fingers with hers, firm but not crushing. No, he wasn’t going to leave again. Not without knowing how to find—if he could find his people again. Pearl and Rose and even the Doctor and Jack…

The knot of agony in his chest is unbearable, but he breathes through it and pulls Rose as close to his side as he can.

“The weather—it’s messing with this place. Under the fog, I—I think I know where we are, but we can’t get out unless we can slip it. Get an unobstructed view of—of the mine.”

Bad choices. All you had were bad choices.

Jack was right about that…but this? Escaping the mine?

That had been out of his control—and it only gets more terrifying every time he hears that distant scratch of tiny claws on stone.

Thunderclouds

[capthardness]

After he's positive Gray is settled, has been reassured enough that he can be alone for a little while and once he can finally make himself let go without being slammed with the terror of that awful day, Jack goes for a walk to try to properly calm himself down. He doesn't like being alone with his thoughts normally, but right now, he needs some space to let all this new information to fall into place. Gray, here. Gray wearing the name he stole. Gray being…like him.

It's simultaneously so much more than he'd dared to hope for in decades, and terrifying in ways he can't describe even to himself.

It doesn't surprise him at all that, with his mind so preoccupied, his feet decide all on their own to lead him towards John's ranch house, which is just coming in to sight albeit somewhat obscured by one of those blasted downpours. Which he'd 'slept' in just a night ago, had walked by just before heading into the Forest and running into Gray in the vain hope that….

That he'd see the man just coming into view, standing in that downpour only half dressed. For once, Jack's first thought on seeing a ridiculously hot guy getting drenched isn't how excited he'll be to get him all the way undressed, because with John and with the way this weather has behaving…it could be a sign of some really bad things.

If he believed in any sort of real sentient force, Jack would say the universe must be preparing to pull one hell of a cruel joke on him soon. As it is, he forces down any of his worries about Gray (so much easier to do when he has someone else, right here, to worry about) and picks up his pace, only barely keeping himself from breaking into a full out run and even then it's mostly because of the mess the rain has made of the ground .

"John!" he calls, hoping that, even if John's probably no where near all right, he can hear and see him.

[theydrewfirstblood]

John hears his voice when his gaze strays to the old cellar, where the demons in his head sometimes send him to work the memories out in hard labor…but his head snaps towards the sound the moment it touches his ears.

That voice…and through the pouring rain, that familiar silhouette he hasn’t seen in a year.

Careless of his state of dress or lack of shoes, John starts walking—slow through the mud and dry grass, then faster as that form moves closer, until he can see blue eyes sparkling brighter than the raindrops falling in his eyes.

Then he’s there, fists full of a sodden button down shirt, and the taste of rain on his lips as he crushes his mouth to Jack’s. The rain is biting cold, but Jack is so warm even beneath wet clothes.

So warm John never notices that the rain has warmed to match, a steady summer storm that soothes instead of stinging as it hits John’s bare back and shoulders. So warm that John melts a little into Jack, so warm that, for one blissful second, he can almost forget every cold, sleepless night he’s had since he awoke from this glorious dream.

[capthardness]

Almost before John's hands are on him, Jack finds himself reaching to press a hand against that bare skin--to warm, to press them as close together as possible, to reassure himself that John's also here and not a result of his very rattled nerves. And then he's so caught up in restlessly moving his other hand from John's hair all the way down the side of his chest and back again, wanting to touch him everywhere at once, all without breaking the kiss, that he hardly notices the change in temperature around them.

"I have never," he gasps when he has to absolutely break away for breath, moving back in to nip at his lower lip, "been so happy to see you."

[theydrewfirstblood]

Warmth turns to fire under Jack’s hands, as John’s body wakes up and remembers what this is like: to be devoured by palms and fingers, to be wanted and needed and craved, adored. It’s been a year since any hand has touched him other than in a fight or to patch a wound, and now Jack’s touching him, burning him alive even under the rain and all John can do is kiss him and groan into his mouth until oxygen deprivation alone separates them.

And that little nipping rake of teeth—John laughs, half drunk on him, as he finds Jack’s hand and lifts it to press a kiss to the inside of his wrist.

“I missed you.” He breathes, greedily pressing Jack’s hand into his cheek, leaning into it like a cat begging for attention. “Every day, every second…I was afraid you might not be here.”

[capthardness]

John's laughter, the touch of familiar lips against his wrist, his words--all of it eases some of the anxiety that has been thrumming through Jack's entire body ever since he heard Gray using that name he hadn't heard in centuries, held tight as he refused to let it manifest in any form lest it destroy him.

"And I was worried you wouldn't be coming back," his words are full of a watery laugh, but he's smiling as he moves to press his lips to the underside of John's jaw. "Kept stopping over to check. Wasn't planning that when I went walking just now but guess my hopeless romanticism got the better of me." I needed to see you. Needed you to help me keep those memories buried. He can't let himself say all that in words, though. Not yet. Preferably not ever. But his body's always been so good at speaking for him anyway so he lets it keep going, fingers still holding tight to John's back as he trails kisses down the side of John's neck to his shoulder.

[theydrewfirstblood]

The way his eyes glisten—seeing it, hearing the tears thick in Jack’s voice cuts him like a knife, hurts worse than any blow he’s taken while stick fighting or even during the war. Even the scar beside his eye was less painful to earn than the idea of Jack in pain.

It’s hard to hold onto when he keeps talking, voice and breath and that beautiful mouth moving on wet skin. Being so well known, inside and out is something else he’s missed…

But there’s something desperate in the way he’s holding John, the way his mouth moves over John’s skin, setting every nerve ablaze—this feels off. Not just loneliness, and he wasn’t gone very long in the Dreamscape the last time this happened. Two years for him was a half hour to everyone else—he’s been gone longer here, he can sense that, but…that’s not this.

Tangling his hands gently in Jack’s hair, John drags him back up to kiss, slow and clinging. He won’t let Jack go, doesn't pull away for air—just breathes him in, sharing every inhale and exhale in between brushes of lips and gentle nips at Jack’s lower lip.

“Inside.” John finally instructs against Jack’s mouth, hands slipping out of his hair to settle on Jack’s shoulders. “Dry off. C’mon.”

[capthardness]

If he weren't working even more than usual to keep so many things locked away (and that's saying something, considering), Jack would probably try to at least make some kind of joke about stripping down to his undershirt right here and letting the warming rain soak that through. But as it is, right now--after working so hard to keep from falling apart when Gray needed someone to hold him together--Jack finds that particular personality feeling like it's about to collapse in on itself entirely. And there's no way in hell The Captain can take charge of things right now even if he wanted to, which he really doesn't.

So he leaves himself entirely in John's hands, feeling a tiny bit of the tension leaving his shoulders when the solid, warm weight falls on them and just gives a short nod before reflexively kissing back as he lets John lead him inside, the smallest fraction of the weight that's suddenly dropped onto his psyche dropping away with each step.

[theydrewfirstblood]

It’s a strange feeling, to be so grateful and so troubled at the same time. Leading Jack into the house with an arm around his shoulders, he’s grateful for this sudden exposure of Jack’s true face, the self he tries so hard to keep hidden.

But he’s troubled by whatever caused it—John can see, can feel the tension and the weariness and all he wants is to make it stop. Even if it means Jack is guarding himself again, leaving those glimpses of his real face for John to see when they’re together.

Once they’re inside, John kneels to help Jack out of his boots and leaves them by the door, then gently nudged him towards the stairs.

“Bathroom. Strip and dry off, there’s towels in the linen cabinet. Gonna start a fire to warm things up a little, I’ll be right there.”

cw: beginning of panic attack/mild dissociation

[capthardness]

There's a flicker in the back of his mind as John takes off his boots to say something at least generally flirtatious, but he can't come up with anything. Which is probably way more distressing than it should be. But it's easier to be upset about that than…

I have to go get your mother.

Jack closes his eyes, as if that can shut out the echo of memory, and he's never been so grateful to be pushed around. Should be joking about that too. Should be, can't.

At least his body and mind are still on speaking terms, well enough to follow what John's told him anyway. He's fine, absolutely perfectly bloody fine until he starts unbuttoning his shirt and feels his hands shaking. But he can stop that, he's damn good at stopping it. He's had to, lots of times, because you can't fire a gun with shaking hands.

"Come on Javic,pull it together-" it takes a second too long to realize what he's said. Gray saying it, that's one thing. He's family, all he has left, that's different. But he hasn't been that man--that boy--in centuries, can't be him, doesn't know how--

"It's just a word. Doesn't mean anything. Can't even remember what it meant," he k growls under his breath, and at least the anger steadies his fingers enough to get his damn shirt off.

[theydrewfirstblood]

John starts a fire pretty easily, keeping it low until he can get Jack downstairs. There’s a thick woven rug by the hearth, and with the throw pillows from the couch, a blanket and a couple cups of coffee or tea?

Some of John’s best childhood memories were made on rainy days just so—he’s hoping it’ll help Jack to relax that way. Or…find other ways to get warm, once John knows he’s not just trying to silence whatever demon is eating him from the inside.

He’s just starting up the stairs when he hears a minor commotion, Jack’s voice. It’s too muted and distant to understand, but it doesn’t sound good.

Taking the stairs a little faster, John reaches the bathroom, knocks, then cracks the door open slightly.

“Jack? Can I come in?”

Cw: mild dissociation

[capthardness]

Once he'd dealt with his shirt and the frankly ridiculous number of buttons, the rest had been easy--he doesn't need to know who he is to get undressed in a hurry--but that had brought it's own new problem. Because left without the trappings of the man he'd become when he ran away from the Agency, one of the nondescript towels around his waist, when he looked in the mirror-

His hair had been blonde back then, hadn't it? It started getting darker not long after that. Like…like Dad's.

He doesn't really hear the knock, but John's voice--he recognizes that, easily--breaks through. Calling him Jack.

"Yeah," he says, not looking away from the mirror as he wondering dimly if his voice comes out as faint as it sounds in his head.

CW: mentions of death by explosives

[theydrewfirstblood]

When he opens the door and sticks his head in, he sees Jack’s reflection in the mirror…and he sees something he recognizes. Hollow eyes, yet intent, searching…looking for traces of the Other, the remains of what was or evidence of what would be.

He looked at himself like that after Dan Forest died…looking for the pieces of his friend, his brother in arms, looking for some measure of hope left to cling to…

Letting himself into the bathroom fully, John drops a kiss on Jack’s shoulder, smoothing a hand up and down his back with slow, firm strokes.

“Come back to me, Jack.” He murmurs softly, standing beside him and watching his face. “Wherever you’re at right now, I’m here. Feel me…come back. I gotcha.”

Cw dissociation

[capthardness]

For a few moments, he just keeps staring in the mirror--at John, more than himself now. It's easier to look at John; easier to be sure of who he is, what he is.

The words don't mean much, not at first. All words sound wrong in his head, not the right language but he doesn't remember what the right one is. Close, but not close enough. But the longer he stays like that--watching John's face, feeling his hands--the more pieces start to fall back into place. It's not all at once, not in the right order--

(He remembers a woman with outrageous hair and clicking heels. Listen to my voice. Take my hand. We'll get you to safety.)

But he can at least feel them now, the pieces of who he is, who he's made himself. He can't look at his own face, not quite, but he can see the dog tags hanging around his neck. John's dog tags.

Something about them. The day John had given them to him. The same day he'd revealed so many of the people he'd loved, the men he'd been, but not all of them by far, not the ones…

A wordless sob escapes him, and without realizing he's moved at all Jack finds that he's turned to press his face into John's shoulder.

[theydrewfirstblood]

When he turns and folds in on himself, into John, there’s no thought. He’s soaked to the skin, vaguely chilled, but Jack is warm as John’s arms go around him.

Jack is in pain, and John cannot—will not bear it.

Sliding a hand into his hair, John continues to rub his back with the other, holding him fast as he presses his face into Jack’s shoulder in turn.

“I’ve got you.” He whispers, shifting to kiss his jaw, his neck, his temple. “It’s okay…it’s okay, I’ve got you. I’m here.”

And already familiar with what they mean to him, having seen his gaze drift to them in the mirror, the hand on Jack’s back slides around to touch the tags where they sit against the middle of Jack’s chest. He lays his hand over them, presses them gently into his skin.

“I’m here, fy nghariad.”

[capthardness]

As his mind recalls more of how words even work and what John's saying begins to trickle into his mind, a large part of him wants to refuse the comfort of John's words--comfort he doesn't deserve, and John doesn't know that, doesn't know what happened, that it's his fault his brother is broken in ways he fears can't ever be fixed. But even if he could find the words to do that, Jack knows he couldn't even think about removing himself from John's arms or turning away his kisses. His touch doesn't quite drown out the terror of all the things he'd hidden from himself starting to come out of the shadows, but it does help, a lot.

He lets himself stay like that, not trying to speak or even think, just feeling, each brush of lips and stroke of fingertips putting a small piece of himself back into place. His breath catches when John presses the cool metal to his skin, but then--

He blinks, then startles himself with a short, dry noise that almost resembles a laugh.

"Welsh. Seriously?" He tries and fails to swallow down a hitch in his throat that wants to be a sob, but does manage to smile. "Asshole," he says, voice wavering but fond and present.

[theydrewfirstblood]

John just smiles with his face tucked against the side of Jack’s, lips curving up against the hinge of Jack’s jaw. There he is—fragile and still in pieces, but he’s back again.

Jack…his Jack.

“Told you I could pick some up.” John teases back gently, kissing his temple again. Leaning back just enough to look into Jack’s face, John reaches up to frame it between his hands with a gentle smile.

“My love.” He whispers in English this time, pulling him in for another kiss. “There you are…c’mon, stay with me. Please, stay with me…”

[capthardness]

Jack swallows, forcing his eyes to stay open--stay on John--because as much as he doesn't want John to see the demons he knows have to still be lurking in his gaze, he wants to be in the dark with those same demons even less. It takes way more effort than it should to get one of his hands to move, to wrap his fingers around John's wrist and cling to him, the familiar sensation of holding someone putting at least some solid ground under his feet.

"Trying," he manages, and enough of him has come back to be properly put off by the waver in his voice he can't shake off. "Hasn't--been this hard in a long time." And there should be some part of him trying to make a joke right there, he knows that. The best he can manage though is turning his head slightly to brush his lips against John's palm, which is at least enough to turn the tension in his chest that had been threatening to become a sob into a shuddering breath.