cloaked

• Character Personality: Provide information about their personality, both negative and positive aspects — with three of each. Give examples of how they've behaved this way. You do not need to provide an essay, but please submit enough to give a feel for the character.

— Creative: Which is probably the most obvious one, what’s with him being the Prince of Stories and all. The Dreaming is his canvas, each stroke meticulously crafted to reflect the vast spectrum of human emotions (or any being capable of dreaming, but the show mostly focuses on us mere mortals), subconscious desires, and fears. From lush landscapes to terrifying fiends, he’s the masterful hand that guides us through our dreams and nightmares, a full-fledged artist in his own right. But he’s not just a dream weaver! He can be a muse, too, like he was for Shakespeare, for instance, his influence subtly nudging him towards the creation of literary works that would echo through the ages. His entire realm is pretty much a crucible where the seeds of imagination are sown and then explored by dreamers, either to find peace and solace or to confront their fears. As an example of things he can create, there’s Fiddler’s Green — which he considers to be the heart of the Dreaming — idyllic meadows in a perpetual spring-like atmosphere, bathed in golden light. On the other hand, you have the Corinthian, a three-mouthed nightmare whose entire purpose is to reflect everything humanity won’t confront. He eventually strays from his purpose, but that’s a whole other story altogether.

— Dutiful: So many of his positive traits could also be considered negative depending on context help. But here. Dream is particularly strict when it comes to his responsibilities, always maintaining a strong sense of integrity. He sticks to his principles like there’s no tomorrow, to his function, which often makes him seem harsh and unreasonable — which he can definitely be. His commitment to his purpose is unwavering, a rigidity that sometimes borders on the absolute (another trait I will explain below). He’s pretty old-fashioned when you think about it, though there’s a good reason for it; breaking universal laws could have dire consequences, and he’s well-aware of it. He failed in his duty, once, and it cost him an entire universe. It’s not that he’s uptight just for the sake of it. There are certain things he can’t afford (like allowing himself to feel too much), if only for the sake of both the Dreaming and the Waking World. He’s wholly devoted to upholding the natural order of the universe, even when it requires sacrifices (having to kill Rose Walker, a vortex, in order to preserve humanity is a great example, especially when he admits that it brings him no joy to do it [turns out he doesn’t have to kill her after all, but y’know]). So it’s not just a sense of duty, I guess. It’s a mix of dedication to his purpose/function, discipline, and a profound understanding of the stakes involved — which is, to a vague extent, oddly selfless.

— Tenacious: Which he embodies with a stoic grace that underscores his eternal nature. His resilience and resolve are tested multiple times over the millennia, but one specific instance we get to see is his century-long imprisonment by mortal occultits (I’m sorry but I refuse to correct this typo). Stripped of his tools and powers, Dream rots in a glass cage for 106 years, naked, alone and vulnerable and without any help from any of his siblings. Only Jessamy, his raven, eventually comes to his rescue, but she dies in the process, shot by Burgess’ son (his captor). Dream is forced to witness her violent death helpless, quiet tears down his cheeks, rage and grief in his eyes. Anyone else might have succumbed to defeat or despair. He doesn’t. He bids his time with incredible patience, without ever uttering a single word, his will indomitable. Upon his release, he immediately embarks on a quest to reclaim everything that was taken from him, and to rebuild his realm, without wasting a single minute. His journey is fraught with obstacles and challenges, but as with everything else, Dream navigates the entire thing with deliberate calm and resolve. Even the threat of becoming the slave of a literal demon doesn’t stop him from challenging Lucifer, and luckily, he wins. It takes quite a lot of endurance and determination to rule over a whole kingdom for billions of years and hold it together, even despite assaults, losses (all of his romantic relationships end miserably, for instance, and his only son dies), or the constant flood of emotions he gets from the collective unconscious.

— Harsh: This trait aligns with his duty-bound nature, as previously mentioned. Dream often appears detached, borderline uncaring, though it’s largely a façade that masks a more complex emotional landscape. He’s a bit of a paradox, processing deep emotional capacities but constantly grappling with their expression. He navigates through them cautiously, aware that succumbing could jeopardize the entire collective unconscious — which he contains and safeguards. His confrontation with the Corinthian highlights this, when the nightmare accuses him of being unable to feel, of caring only for his rules. But he does feel, his eyes frequently brimming with unshed tears, always holding back a tsunami of emotions. He just can’t afford to lower his guard and fully experience them, lest he be consumed.

That being said, he’s not incapable of showing kindness — or love, for that matter. It’s especially obvious with the way he treats Lucienne and Matthew, or the bond he shares with his sister Death. Even his eventual friendship with Hob, which takes him a few centuries to acknowledge. Unfortunately, his rigidity sometimes leads to questionable decisions that, at least from a human POV, may seem pretty harsh. An example of this is his initial readiness to abandon Rachel to her painful death after retrieving his pouch of sand (which she kept with her after Constantine left it there). Actions have consequences, and all that, but Constantine ends up confronting him and he seems to realize that Rachel, though doomed regardless, doesn’t have to suffer unnecessarily; he helps her pass in peace in a tranquil dream. Later on, he also punishes one of his creations for straying (she was initially a nightmare, decided she wanted to inspire rather than to frighten, and helped a young boy cope with abuse). She showed kindness, but in his eyes, she failed in her duty, so he condemns her to a few thousand years of darkness (some time later, he re-creates her as a dream, stating that he's trying to listen).

It’s a burden for him, to feel, one he’s reluctant to openly acknowledge as existing within himself. When Hob suggests that he’s lonely, for instance, that he might even wish for them to be friends, Dream’s quick denial, haughty response and abrupt departure (a petulant child, really) shows a vulnerability he can’t afford, a rigidity born not from the luxury of choice, but from the immense responsibilities he bears. In his words: we do not choose to be created, nor do we choose how we are made. We are, each of us, born with responsibilities.

— Spiteful: Speaking of feels. And nevermind that the Dreaming’s weather is essentially shaped by the whims of his moods. He can be particularly vengeful when he feels like he was wronged, and also ridiculously petty. Fiddler’s Green comments that he never heard Dream apologize in eons, for instance (after he does, maybe for the first time. he’s learning!!), and… well. He kind of condemned one of his ex-girlfriends to rot in Hell after she rejected him. It’s been 10k years and she’s still there, he still has affection for her, and he still refuses to forgive her (he’ll get her out eventually, but we’ve yet to see it in the show). It’s horribly cruel from a human perspective, but that’s the length he’s willing to go, as far as personal vendettas go. Abandonment issues what. To another extent, it’s also illustrated when Calliope asks for his help, wondering whether Dream could “inspire” her captor to let her go. She’s been captive and abused for decades, and her current tormentor (a writer in need of a muse) refuses to release her, so Dream makes him pay, insists on punishing him, even though Calliope argues that he’s not worth the effort. He’s nothing, she says. He’s just a man, but he also hurt his ex-wife and Dream isn’t about to let that fly. He floods his mind with an abundance of ideas until he goes mad and ultimately frees Calliope.

— Sullen: And kind of self-absorbed… which is a bit contradictory to his sense of duty, but it doesn’t stop him from navel-gazing. He tends to be particularly melancholy, and definitely has a propensity to avoid connections despite craving them — all of which pertains to his reluctance to let himself be vulnerable and feel. All of this results in rather contemplative, solitary habits (but don’t tell him you know that he’s lonely). He’s not a super friendly guy, often offering terse responses (or none at all), and rarely smiling, which doesn’t really make him approachable. That’s the entire point, to be fair — despite wishing otherwise — but it can also lead him to mope. For example, once he’s finally recovered his tools — more powerful now than he’s been in eons — he still manages to whine. Because his quest to retrieve them is over. To cite him, it left him feeling disappointed and let down, when he was so sure it would make him feel better. Between the lines, it subtly suggests a wish to change, to be more than his function, to exist beyond his purpose despite believing himself unable to (and also not allowing himself to), so he sits and mopes and feeds pigeons, wallowing in self-pity. His sister boldly calls him self-centered (and pathetic!), ripping him a new one for not having the balls to find another quest. Also. Remember the Dreaming’s weather following the whims of his moods? Yeah. It can rain for weeks on end when he’s down in the dumps, and the way he talks and generally carries himself is rather gloomy.

• Character Skills: He’s never had to function as a mortal so all of this is mostly conjecture.

• He’s probably really good at anything that might require artistic, creative, and manual skills (painting, sculpting, story-telling, etc)
• His vast knowledge of the dreams and stories from countless cultures across history would make him an exceptional anthropologist
• In the same vein, he’s probably fluent in all languages (player is not, unfortunately)
• Also, leadership skills, seeing as he’s ruled the Dreaming for billions of years
• Given his insight into the fears, desires, and motivations of all beings, he could possibly become a decent counselor

• Character Inventory:

— ITEM ONE: Pouch of sand
— ITEM TWO: A raven feather
— ITEM THREE: The Corinthian’s skull

• Important Notes: Dream is going from ancient eldritch to regular guy overnight. He’s never had to behave like a mortal, never felt what it’s like to be human, so he’s going to be pretty overwhelmed for a while. It’s a chance for him to explore his own heart freely, without the burden of his function, which is probably going to be terrifying. Without his powers, I don’t think he’ll be much of a threat either, even though he might still carry and express himself like a king. Old habits die hard, but a child could probably knock him out in a fight.

• Writing Samples: Players must provide TWO prose writing samples. These both must be log threads. Due to the fact there is no network in this game, 'network' or 'texting'-style threads will not be accepted.

— SAMPLE ONE: TDM
— SAMPLE TWO: PSL

continued from here.

⟪ someone does find her. or something, anyway, depending on technicalities.

the dream lord’s eyes, first — matthew, perched high on the top-shelf, overwhelmed by the flock of ravens he had to circumvent to get here. beasts, all of them. smart, too, though not i-was-once-a-human smart, deceased now and loyal subject instead, wings for thumbs. they do serve someone, but there was no conversation to be had; only croaks and judgment, and a few missing feathers.

not his, mind you.

the second is morpheus himself, delayed. the creation of dreams and nightmares have taken up most of his time lately, for reasons he’s hesitant to confront. now that he’s finally reconciled with his purpose — and it’s all thanks to death — his craft sparks old and new joys alike, but even with his passion rekindled, his motives might not be entirely without stifled incentive. workaholism is a thing, apparently — lucienne told him more than once to please rest, my lord, but even dream isn’t above escapism, especially if it’s stained with a faint hue of denial.

he’s avoiding her. it’s probably one of the most selfless, conscious choices he’s ever made, because he doesn’t want to. or maybe it’s not selfless at all, and he just figured he couldn’t cope with heartbreak again. but heartbreak requires feelings, and that’s a whole other level of awareness he stashes away in his creations, pretending it doesn’t exist. because it doesn’t.

which perfectly explains why each of them winds up with an itch to yearn for the impossible, and when dream spots unnamed longing in their eyes, he vows to avoid mirrors for the rest of eternity, lest he catches the same glint there.

matthew doesn’t have the same reservations.

hey boss. look, i know you don’t wanna hear it — and don’t shoot the messenger! — but the lady doesn’t look well.

it doesn’t matter whether dream glowers — his raven knows him well, maybe more than he knows himself at times, and he can’t fault him for doing his job. he is the dream lord’s eyes, and his sight is exceptional.

dream doesn’t go right away. her presence in the dreaming is a vacuum in his stomach that threatens to collapse his physical form into a dense, compact little ball — sometimes, he almost wishes it did. entropy is at a rise throughout the universes, and there’s nothing he can do to stop it. it’s all her, causing the skies of the dreaming to darken and brighten at the same time, which in turn causes lucienne to withdraw from his sight, just to roll her eyes and sigh.

god fucking damn it. he doesn’t say it. he doesn’t even think it. but it’s pretty much what it feels like.

neutral ground, then. he doesn’t meet her where she probably expects him to be. where she’s not seen him in a while, perhaps looking for him. the thought coats the back of his mouth sour, but he forges on, soon materializing in the library where she hides. peace is a luxury that’s rarely ever been available to her. she finds it in the dreaming, sure, but the waking world doesn’t wait for anyone, least of all her. she looks almost fragile there, despite all her incredible strengths, fast asleep even as her muscles twitch, restless.

is it coincidence that she chose a library? the scent of old leather is reminiscent of his own, and dream walks unhurried along the shelves, motes of dust following his steps. but his eyes are locked on her, a plethora of books in his periphery, begging to be touched. she doesn’t have to. beg. standing in front of her, his scrutiny is nothing if not concerned. matthew was right; she looks exhausted, infinitely more than last he saw her, and his endless heart sinks lower than he thought it could. it’s a beast, that one. for an entity that doesn’t technically have a true corporeal form, it beats with the frenzy of a thousand men, which makes him feel entirely too human. his presence is too vast, too peculiar, perhaps, to fully look the part, but he feels it. and it’s infuriating.

it’s not vexation he feels now. there’s anger in the mix, though it’s not aimed at her, slightly overwhelmed as he drops to a crouch and observes the ravages of her wars. he made sure to appoint her favorite dreams as her companions in his prolonged absence, but here, as powerful an entity as he is, he’s more or less out of his depth.

let it be known that dream of the endless has, perhaps more than once, felt utterly inadequate. just don’t mention it anywhere near him.

slowly he reaches for her, as if giving her time to sense his intent, even as she sleeps. small shivers wrack her frame, never at ease, and dream’s fingers graze her neck, pushing blond strands away as his palm finds the valley between her shoulder blades. the muscles underneath are impressively stiff, a glum crease between dream’s brows; she’s a prisoner, much like he once was. the circumstances differ, but not unlike his, it’s not a cage she can escape, and she doesn’t possess the lifespan or the otherworldly potency necessary to endure what he did. ⟫

What will become of you, little dreamer?

⟪ the point of contact breaks, but his hand hovers tentative as he searches her face for answers he knows he won’t get. all he can do is fuel her mind with a wealth of dreams from which he hopes she can draw strength, and return to his duties.

but not yet. he’ll sit for now, in the chair adjacent to the divan, matthew perched on his shoulder and a book in his lap. think she’ll be alright?, and dream’s jaw clenches on a deep, soundless exhale.

are they ever? ⟫

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