#desiir

Morpheus’s eyes narrowed slightly, scrutinising the PROVOKING rouge. ❝You are smiling, sibling, which means I am unlikely to enjoy whatever comes next.❞

@desiir said: ❛ i know you will never forgive me. i am not seeking forgiveness. ❜

𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐈𝐑 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐌𝐄𝐍𝐓 𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄𝐒 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐎 heart of true problem, at least in dream lord's eyes ― they do not assume responsibility, nor even the guise of it, proclaiming that they don't seek his forgiveness. traits once found near-endearing to elder now seeks to ire, but that isn't the reason that they're here. no, apparently desire seeks his help, though for what reason the dream lord has yet to fathom. circumstances must be dire, though, for desire to come to dream, knowing their fraught & frayed family history together. one of betrayal & loss, & by their words, they're not here to try to make amends. perhaps it is better that they're honest, but it doesn't make the fact of that honesty hurt any less. ❝ you do not seek forgiveness, yet you are here to find aid in your cause . . . which you have yet to explain. ❞ a little cock of head accompanies slight irritation in tone, but for his part, dream acts as reserved as he can, given the circumstances. there is cause for restraint here ; even a slighted & bitter endless can recognize a good reason to help if needed. ❝ what is it that you need from me, sibling ? if i can help, i might ― for a price. ❞

She screws her eyes shut, sways to the side, hands coming up to cover her face as frustration and anger bubbles inside of her. Delirium wants nothing more than to explode on the spot, there’s nothing that sets her off faster than feeling like someone wasn’t listening to her when she was trying to tell them as plainly as possible, yet it still happened. 

There’s not enough self awareness for her to realise that it’s not Desires fault, Delirium is a difficult creature to understand by her nature, for she sees all, within and beyond the veil. In and out of order. Jumbled and curled and moved at all times. It’s hard to figure out at times what has happened yet, what was a might be, what is a never be, and what was an impossibility. 

“You’re not listening to me.”

They didn’t try. Few did. Delirium didn’t blame them, she knows she doesn’t make sense sometimes, her frustration is aimed at herself, not at her sibling. Instead of trying to clarify herself even further, she almost melts into the wall, slumping against it as she takes a few steps along it. 

. ݁⁺ ⊹ : THE LONG AND WINDING ROAD - Accepting

Morpheus stands motionless, his silhouette a sharp fracture against the ever changing sky of the Dreaming. His robes remain motionless even as a phantom wind stirs the sand at his feet. He doesn't turn immediately to face Desire. Instead, he keeps his gaze fixed on the horizon of his Realm.

To Dream, his sibling is a flickering flame; pretty, capricious, and perpetually dangerous; and he treats the provocation with the weary patience of a mountain enduring a summer storm. He knows the trap inherent in the statement. To speak is to give Desire a foothold. " You mistake my silence for a void that needs filling, " his voice carries the dry, rhythmic hiss of sand falling through an hourglass, ancient and burdened by the weight of every secret ever dreamt.

MEME | ACCEPTING

Morpheus regarded his sibling as one might regard an echo, something that existed, but did not merit pursuit. In the threshold of the gallery, beneath vaulted ceilings that reflected nothing but STARLIGHT, he stood unmoving, hands folded behind his back.

❝If that comforts you,❞ he began evenly, his voice holding neither INJURY nor irritation. It was stripped of both. ❝We are not allies. We are not friends.❞ A faint inclination of his head. ❝You are correct.❞

❝As for nothing…❞ His gaze moved past them then, settling on some distant point unseen. ❝Nothing requires acknowledgment. Nothing demands attention. Nothing seeks reaction. If you wish us to be nothing,❞ his gaze flicked back onto them, his brows raising by the slightest degree, POINTEDLY, ❝then behave accordingly.❞

@desiir said: ❛ it's best to stay on a dream - bringer's good side. ❜

𝐐𝐔𝐈𝐄𝐓, 𝐒𝐀𝐑𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐈𝐂 chuckle leaves lips at the endless' open admittance to caution around the corinthian's lord. he doesn't doubt them, not one bit ― he's dealt long enough with dream to know such a statement is accurate. for the nightmare knows that its lord has a good side, though whether it ever sees it is another story entirely ; he often unwittingly errs on the side of annoying, if not openly disrespecting, lord's beck & call. for his defence, the lord of dreams' expectations for creations ends up exceeding any rational or reasonable given, for the corinthian gets its in-satiety from somewhere, & knows its own endless as guilty as any other in its pursuit. ❛ you'd think that would extend to a nightmare, but a lot of people don't feel that way. ❜ the smirk that comes to lips is a performance, a mask that hides the uncertainty that it feels around other, knowing just what desire has always represented to it. the corinthian has ever been a product of both dream & desire, but this knowledge, it knows, is held secret from even the two endless themselves. ❛ for the most part, i don't hold grudges. most humans don't know what they're dealing with when it comes down to it. but supernatural beings are another thing entirely. ❜

A shake of her head, the distressed Endless wound fingers into her hair and pulled as she shakes her head.

“I’m not a part of your mischief-ness-esses…” 

Something is wrong, who knows what it is, could be that the sky is the wrong colour because she has misremembered it, or the world is ending, it all seems to elicit the same level of response from her. “No…” no she was not and she was very insistent upon it this time around. 

Her her hands come from her hair down her face, she enjoys the cold against the warmth of her skin as she attempts to solidify thoughts but the racing tide that is her mind grabs at them again so violently that even the wispy multicoloured aura around her shifts and is torn off, disappearing off into the air.