Dream One 🔥 Unhappy Memories

[disdelusioned]

Sender: Diluc Ragnvindr
To: Everyone
Subject: Passive dream recording
Warnings: spoilers for Genshin Impact character stories and webtoon; cw: blood, violence, and death

[The beginning events of the dream happen quickly. A large purple drake descends on a cart and wagon, leaving naught but carnage in its wake. A man with more than a passing resemblence to Diluc emerges from from the wagon, standing against the drake and attacking it with a great and terrible power. Within moments, the beast is ensnared with dark chains. A few moments later, it breaks free and retreats, and the man collapses.

It's at this point that Diluc himself becomes visible in the dream, huddled over the man's body and covered with blood that's not his own. He's younger, a late adolescent, and calls the man "father" as he cries out in grief. The rain starts pouring down, though it does little to wash the stains of red away.

Nearby, a flamboyantly dressed man regards him cooly.]

"You know, Master Diluc, I can't help but wonder if your anger about all this might be a bit misplaced."

[Slowly, Diluc's gaze rises from his father's corpse to look up at him. His expression almost immediately shifts into a sharp glare. The man continues to speak, totally unfazed.]

"You blame the Fatui and the Knights - and me by association - but have you stopped to consider that perhaps it's our dearest father that betrayed you first? You honestly don't believe he accepted this Delusion at the point of a sword or under the duress of a threat, do you?"

[Diluc is on his feet in an instant, grabbing a sword that by all rights shouldn't be there and charging him.]

Take that back!

[He's stopped after only a handful of steps by the same great and terrible power that stopped the drake's advance, this time piercing him through from behind.

At that point, the dream ends as its dreamer wakes up with a start.]

Comments

[hearthwarming]

[ Ori feels as though her stomach's dropped at the sight of the purple drake, and she can't help but wonder for a moment if she's seeing another of her own nightmares— until she's faced with the grief of a young man who looks so very much like Diluc. It's then that she realizes that, this time, she's seeing a nightmare of his - but she can't interact with it the same way that he had with hers, and all she can do is watch as her heart twists and aches in her chest.

Although it takes her a while to collect herself and think on how to proceed, it's not very long after he's awoken that, dream lanterns aglow as she clutches her own, Ori's voice quietly resonates through a telepathic connection. ]

Diluc - it's Ori, I... I'm here if you need anything.

[ She wants to make sure he has space, but she also wants him to know that she's here. He doesn't need to shoulder this on his own, if she can help it. But she also knows all too well, herself, that old habits die hard. ]

[disdelusioned]

[Diluc stares at his lantern for a good long while after Ori reaches out to him, unsure how to respond. What he needs is for his trauma not to have been broadcast for all of this world to see, but there's no taking that back. Honestly, it was only a matter of time before it happened, especially with the significant increase in recorded nightmares from other dreamwalkers that has coincided with the moon's disappearance from the sky. He should have known this was coming, and he should have steeled himself for it. Not being ready to handle it is no one's fault but his own.

At least Ori is... well, she's a friend despite his continued insistence that he shouldn't allow her that close to him. And with her, it feels less like an unfair exposure and more reciprocal. He wandered into her own dreams and troubled memories not that long ago, after all.

With a sigh, he reaches for the journal to write her a response:]

I'm fine. You're welcome to come over and see for yourself.

[The offer is for her benefit. She cares and worries, and this way he can prevent her from stressing about him further. This isn't the first nightmare he's had, and it won't be the last.

He's fine.]

[hearthwarming]

[ She's not convinced in the least, but she'll keep that for herself. In the end, she only responds with a very quiet "okay," before their dream crystal lanterns go dim and the connection is severed.

Just a moment later, however, a different kind of connection forms, this time ostensibly between the trees that house Ori and Diluc's homes within this realm. A small, glowing spot appears on the inside of Diluc's door before it begins to grow in its size, shining with the arcane light that Ori's spellcasting always emanates, until it's appropriately door-sized and Ori steps through it. ]

... Sorry. I didn't want to keep you waiting.

[ Also, there's a nightmare-inducing blizzard raging on outside. The portal promptly closes in behind her and leaves his door looking perfectly normal and not at all like a portal just opened in it. ]

[disdelusioned]

[Diluc, still sitting in his bed half under the covers, just stares at Ori's unexpected mode of arrival. How did she...?

Actually, nevermind. She's a being of magic, and he's not in the mood to question the limits of her abilities right now. After shaking his head to clear it, he gets out of the bed in earnest to go greet her.]

It actually isn't that urgent, Ori. It was just a nightmare.

[hearthwarming]

[ It occurs to her, upon seeing him still in his bed, that she might have acted too hastily. But it's too late to go back now, and he's already gotten out of bed. ]

Still, a nightmare is a nightmare... and you helped me wake up from mine.

[ She could do no such thing from him. The only thing she can do is be here for him now. And to that end, she moves towards him and does the first thing that came to her mind as soon as the vision of his nightmare ended - which is to pull him into her arms for a comforting embrace. ]

[disdelusioned]

[Um.

This isn't what he expected when he invited her over. He thought she would put on tea, give him some flowers, maybe insist on giving him something to eat. Not a gentle embrace meant to comfort and soothe. The effort is wasted on him, he believes, and he squirms a little uncomfortably in response to it. He's walked these feelings off before, and he's able to do so again. There's no need to coddle him about it.]

I told you, Ori. I'm fine. This...

[He sighs, the end of his thought drifting away before he can complete it. And he allows himself to relax into her hug a little. So that she doesn't worry about him that much more.]

Thank you.

[hearthwarming]

[ Unfortunately for Diluc, Ori is quite accustomed to trying to hug people who react to them much in the same manner as he does; she has witnessed the pain of many of the friends that he'd seen in her nightmare, and just as many similarly go rigid and uncomfortable at her gestures of affection and support. She only wishes that she didn't have to count Diluc among them, now.

She squeezes him a bit tighter when she can sense him ease into it a bit, and says quietly, ]

You must have been so young... what a terrible thing to shoulder from such a young age. I'm so sorry.

[ She doesn't entirely understand the nuances of all that she saw, nor does she know how much of it was memory and how much of it was a corruption of it - a feeling he also must have experienced when he walked into her nightmare not all that long ago - but she doesn't need a complete understanding to know that he must have been in so much pain— no, how he must be in so much pain. Her hand reaches up and gently combs through the length of his hair in another, repeating, soothing motion. ]

[shithogs]

[For a long while, she considers not saying anything. She and the dreamer have no established friendship, or at least what passes for it as far as Kainé is concerned, and she could move on without it ever making a difference for either of them— but the dream itself resonates with her.

Grief. Anger. The desire for violence, for revenge, and the pain of being cut down before either can be achieved.

Eventually, she decides to ask a single question, one she thinks she already knows the answer to, given the visceral nature of the dream itself.]

Is this a memory?

[disdelusioned]

[Diluc knows of Kainé, but only because he's made it his business to learn the identities of the other dreamwalkers in Reverin. Even then, all he knows about her is that she's the young woman who runs around in her underwear all the time. And he doubts she knows anything about him at all. Hardly the sort of relationship that merits reaching out after witnessing a nightmare, and there's a temptation to ignore the question entirely.

However, there's something about the way she asks it that gives him pause. Her tone is straightforward, lacking in the sort of well-intended-but-ultimately-useless sympathy that he would have expected from a stranger. Or, worse, the trappings of a gossip looking for juicier details. It speaks of someone approaching the topic similarly to how he would, and for that alone he decides to give her the benefit of the doubt and answer her.]

It is. And one I would have rather not shared.

[shithogs]

[Well. She can relate to that much.]

This place doesn't seem to give a shit about what we want shared. Almost seems like the more you want to keep something to yourself, more likely it is that someone's gonna get invited to look right at it.

[It had been that way for her, in that nightmare that had been an amalgamation of so many brutal childhood memories. She had felt trapped at the middle of it, and Tifa had been right alongside her, seeing her at her most vulnerable.

It wasn't her proudest moment.]

But if your being here is any indication, you lived. That's good. Being pissed off can help you survive a lot of bullshit.

[disdelusioned]

[This woman is crass, but Diluc can't deny that he appreciates her frankness. He'll let the language slide. Besides, she's not the first person to swear in his presence, and she won't be the last.]

I did. And it does.

[It's not nearly as explosive as it once was, but the anger is still there. He wouldn't be fighting so hard against corruption and the status quo if he could accept it, after all.]

You sound like you speak from experience, both in having yourself exposed here and in the power of well-honed fury.

[shithogs]

[She's nothing if not direct. Even if the edges are rough, the sentiment seems to be one they share.]

Not this exposed, at least not yet, but I figure it's a matter of time. Still— people have seen shit I would have liked to keep to myself.

[Past pain, her insecurities— she had trouble enough facing those on her own, let alone discussing them with other people.]

It helps to get mad. Makes you stronger. Better than being scared.

[disdelusioned]

I hope that the dream lanterns are kind to you for a good while longer.

[Because being exposed to this degree sucks.

Even though she can't see it, he finds himself nodding along with her logic.]

And better than wallowing in one's circumstances wishing things had turned out differently. The best we can do is use it as a tool to push forward.

Can I have your name?

[burnbrighter]

[ Thoma has heard rumors from the merchants around Ritou, especially those in the wine business, about how Master Crepus met his end, but as is the way with rumors, most get twisted up in the retelling. Details change or get left out.

But not a single one of them have mentioned a Fatui Delusion. And he can’t help but feel that it’s by design.

The nightmare ends abruptly and Thoma jerks out of it, hand over his own chest as if he were the one to get run through instead of Diluc. Hell. He can’t imagine what the other man must be feeling – though knowing Diluc he’s probably showing it as little as possible. He also probably isn’t going back to sleep anytime soon.

That doesn’t stop Thoma from bundling up and heading out, and a short while later, there’s a knock on Diluc’s door. ]

Diluc? It’s Thoma.

[disdelusioned]

[By the time Thoma arrives, Diluc is out of bed and in his small kitchen with a cup of tea that's been brewed far too strongly. It's not taste he's seeking with it; it's caffeine. He's been through many nights without nearly enough sleep for various reasons, so this practice is tried and true. Given that tonight has the added wrinkle of everyone having seen the nightmare, a bit of practiced familiarity is doing a lot to settle his nerves.

The knock and the voice behind it come as little surprise. Of course this would catch Thoma's notice, and of course he would come by to make sure he's all right.]

Come in.

[A large part of him just wants to be left alone, but there's a small selfish bit that's glad to have someone care enough to come in the middle of the night like this. It's been a long time since he's allowed that much in his life.]

[burnbrighter]

[ Thoma pushes the door open, stepping in and closing it behind him gently, as if Diluc was still asleep and not to be disturbed. He’s sitting at the kitchen table plain as day but being freshly woken from a nightmare seems to call for a little care. ]

Hey there. I see you already made tea. I was going to offer if you hadn’t.

[ He sheds his coat, finding somewhere near the door to leave it. There’s a couple of pouches of tea still tucked into the pockets if they have need of it later. ]

Mind if I join you?

[disdelusioned]

Not at all.

[There's a touch of distraction in his tone, his mind in multiple places at once. But he means it. Thoma is one of the few whose presence he sincerely wouldn't mind having right now. Which is telling, but what that might mean is well beyond his capacity to worry about at this moment. His mental and emotional bandwidth are stretched as it is.]

You're welcome to some tea, but it's stronger than usual. Feel free to make yourself a fresh pot if it's not to your tastes.

[He pauses, taking a sip of his tea, then adds:]

I'm fine, by the way. You didn't have to trouble yourself like this.

[Is he, though?]

[burnbrighter]

[ Thoma is in this for the long haul and pauses by the stove to pour himself some tea as well. The caffeine won’t bother him if it means he can stay up and talk to Diluc.

He slides into the empty chair across from him, mug resting atop the table between his loosely cupped hands. ]

I know, but I don’t mind. There are only a couple of people here who can fully comprehend what happened in your dream, and I like to think I’m much more preferable company.

[ If Childe were to walk through that door, Diluc would probably stab him. Or worse. ]

Do you… want to talk about it?

[disdelusioned]

[No, he does not want to talk about it. But perhaps he should.

Diluc stares down into his cup of tea, meeting the tired gaze of his reflection in the liquid with a soft sigh. He hates this part of himself, the doubts and weaknesses that this nightmare has now laid bare for all to see.]

I'm not sure how much about what happened that day made it to Inazuma. Most of the actual details didn't even get as far as Mondstadt.

[There's a darkening of his expression with that statement, but he avoids the full tangent for now. They'll get there.]

What you saw was more or less accurate to how I remember it. At least, the first part was. After Kaeya showed up, it deviated.

[Kaeya did say something gutting and unforgiveable that day, but... they'll get there, too. Maybe.]

sender: Barok van Zieks

[discourtesies]

[It's a horribly traumatic thing to witness. As familiar with dead bodies as van Zieks is, even when it comes to those he knows, to watch the process is another thing entirely, and nothing he'd wish upon anyone, much less someone he's come to respect.

It's partly that respect that makes him hesitate to remark upon such a sensitive dream. Even without that, Barok struggles to think he has any right to involve himself in the personal struggles of even some of his closer acquaintances.

And yet...

Misplaced anger defined him for the past decade, and he can't ignore the idea. About an hour later, he writes:]

Mr Ragnvindr,

I wonder if you may be amenable to discussing the dream that was broadcast earlier this evening. Pray understand that I do not suggest this lightly — I well understand the difficulty of speaking of such matters. Naturally, I would not ask for an immediate reply, nor for you to accept a guest or invitation at this hour, but if it should please you to do so, I am likely to remain awake for some time and shall await your response.

[Then he signs it, like an actual letter. Freaking Victorians.]

Sender: Diluc -> Action

[disdelusioned]

[Diluc's response arrives within a few minutes:]

We can meet in the morning. I will be at home.

-Diluc Ragnvindr


[He knows and trusts Barok well enough to believe that he has a compelling reason to reach out and discuss the dream. So even though he'd much rather pretend that it was never broadcast at all, he will honor that trust and hear what it is Barok has to say. Even if he suspects he isn't going to like all of it.

After dawn breaks--and it always does, even after a terrible night like the one he's just had--Diluc can be found at the table of his small kitchen pouring over notes he's drafted regarding the winery venture. Work, after all, is the best distraction from feeling things. He's as put together as he always is, but exhaustion is clear in his eyes.]

[discourtesies]

[Van Zieks isn't going to like it much either, but he feels it's a conversation that needs to be had... perhaps for both of their sakes.

He takes no major pains to rush the meeting the next day, but tends to rise early to start a usual day, and has no intentions of making the man wait when they both have things to attend to even outside of their joint plans. As a result, it's about an hour past sunrise when the knock finally comes to the door.

When Diluc reaches the door, Barok will greet him with his usual furrowed brow and a simple:]

Mr. Ragnvindr. Good morning.

[Perhaps less good than others... but even so. Now that he's here, however, he'll only offer so many pleasantries.]

[disdelusioned]

[The timing of Barok's arrival is more or less what Diluc expects. It's about the same as he would do if the situation were reversed. Time waits for no one, after all, and they're both the sort to keep their schedules full. The punctuality is appreciated.

Diluc returns the greeting with a slight nod. He doesn't expect more than the most basic politeness--van Zieks is a stern man by nature, and the gravity of the conversation that's about to happen is hanging heavily on them both besides.]

Good morning, Mr. van Zieks.

[He steps aside to let him in.]

I'll put water on for tea.

[discourtesies]

[To the offer of tea, van Zieks nods and offers a thank you as he steps inside to allow Diluc to close the door to the cold sooner rather than later. He doesn't seem rushed, however, even as he removes his hat and gets to the point.

He's trying very hard not to make it an interrogation, even if that may eventually come as a force of habit.]

On the subject of that dream... how much of it was the reality?

[disdelusioned]

[It wouldn't be the first time Diluc's been interrogated about that day, or even the second. At least this time, it's because of a dream and not as a part of an actual investigation.

Still, that doesn't make the discussion easy. He lets out a heavy sigh as he closes the door behind them and starts making his way to the kitchenette on the far side of the studio apartment treehouse.]

Everything right up until the point Kaeya showed up is exactly how I remember that day.

[Surely, van Zieks recognized the blue-haired man as a grown version of the boy he saw in Diluc's lantern when they first met.]

The drake's attack, my inability to stop it, my father's response and the price he paid... all of that is true. The tool he used is called a Delusion, and it backfired and killed him.

[Unconsciously, he reaches for his left hand--the same hand his father had worn the device on--as if he knows and recalls exactly how it feels to have the Delusion there.]

Kaeya arrived with some knights soon after, but he was as young as I was at the time and didn't make it a point to rub it in. [He just decided to say something stupid and unforgiveable, but that was much later in the day.] And obviously, I wasn't killed by my father's corpse.