[She waves her hand in the void’s direction—although, far as it matters in not-quite-three-dimensional space, not quote into it.]
We call that a void! Or at least, a shred of it. Jumping in may or may not lead to that waking nightmare!
I have to say, though, [and Val side-eyes it, as if it might expand at any moment (but graciously, it doesn’t),] they usually don’t just spawn like that.
[Well, heck, who would Val be to judge an obvious echo?]
You follow! [Val paces up and down the aisle a bit, for a better view; true to form, the void heeds not the perspective shift.] “Void” is a bit of a catch-all, I suppose, but this is a bona fide piece of it.
[Musing out loud, and frankly increasingly concerned:] Now, why would it be here…?
[With the clipped jankiness of a stuttering video, it expands further down the aisle.]
[Val’s just gonna… walk away from the liquor aisle.... Although the back walls, not unlike the face of Dera’s friend, flicker with an empty promise. What is happening here?]
There’s only one person who can consistently make anything from the void—and he’s a kid. [She can practically hear Rudy’s squeaky-pubescent protest at that, but alas Rudy is not here.] Uses his imagination. [Glancing back to Dera:] That’s what I was gonna have you do, y’know. Picture something better than smoking and shopping channels.
[If Val sounded “a little” judgmental before (which she did), she definitely does now.] Dera, you misunderstand. That is the exact kind of defeatism that, where I’m from, would land you dead in nowhereland.
[The blue ones. It’s always the blue ones!]
[She stops abruptly at a crossroads, facing Dera fully, and decidedly not wanting to look at all that damn flickering out the corner of her eye.] You cannot possibly imagine nothing better at all. Have you ever given it an honest try?
[He's a little stunned by her lecture, although...it really doesn't feel much like a lecture at all. Almost more like she's trying to motivate him or something...?
[In some ways, Dera is a cynical person; he's become that way, anyway. Playing pretend can't change anything, or else it would have by now. But has he ever given it an honest try? Of course not. It wouldn't make sense. There's no way something like that could work.
[Not...in the real world anyway.]
Not really, no.
I mean...no. Just no. [He frowns, he shrugs. He looks self-conscious.]
Things don't really work that way where I'm from, so...?
[Don't they though? Imagining a better life for yourself and making it happen? Chuck's really into ~ manifestation ~ lately. He takes a deep breath.]
I don't really...want anything other than...what I know I can't have.
[Lecture? Motivation? Another line Val does not care for. She can sympathize, to that detached extent, with Dera’s hesitance; of course the idea that one suddenly can just imagine anything into existence is a jarring one. There’s a reason she’s made no move to attempt the same herself.
[However, if the void of her existence has followed her here, then surely its rules do, too. (And if they don’t—well, something else for her and Dera to figure out! …Not an exciting prospect, that.) Val simply hears out his doubts; and then, oblivious to what he’s thinking of, says:]
You could have it here. [More than a little insistent.] Picture that.
[The void swallows the nearest wall entirely. If they can see far enough, it’s consuming every reflective door of the knockoff-Slurpee freezer section.]
[Val is not looking away from Dera, however.]
Now’s probably a terrible time to mention death doesn’t last where I’m from, huh? [Flat by regular expressiveness standards, that.] Still— all you want is a person? I can empathize, do not get me wrong—
[Val can barely sputter a warning before Dera takes her hand—
[Flesh. Warm. A pulse.]
[The glitching in the walls stills. It’s Val’s eyes, instead, that flicker, like a faulty bulb about to blow. She blinks, a couple times, and it stops, and she registers, belatedly, what Dera said.]
There’s probably more void outside, y’know…? [Quiet. Her hand’s gone limp, and it’s not involuntary—
[—but Dera’s right. They can at least leave this specific place. Val shakes her head quickly, hand flinching in a way that doesn’t quite take Dera’s back; it might break his grip, it might not.] Still. Can’t get any worse than in here!
[Abruptly she turns and attempts to drag him, by the wrist, to the nearest exit.]
[If Dera notices the flickering in Val's eyes, he's apparently too distracted by the ever-growing void around them to notice. He's about to drop her hand when she grabs his wrist and starts pulling him. He stumbles after her.]
Hey-- Woah-- Let's not go outside if "probably" is in the mix.
Is there like...?
[...Like what?]
Is there any way to stay safe from shit like this?
[He’s got a point there, too, annoyingly; Val’s expecting either a door to nothing, or a strip of ground that clips off into nothing. Still, her march to the emergency exit is undeterred.]
Nope! [Expressive inasmuch as it is irritated. Not at Dera, exactly; not not at Dera. Shouldn’t he get the memo by now?] You just don’t get near it and hope for the best!
Or, [hint hint,] you imagine something better. [Rudy would be jumping headlong into this. Where are those other three?!]
[The irritation isn't lost on him, but he isn't overly sensitive; it rolls off his shoulders with only a small bit of his own irritation in return. He stops walking, pulling his hand back from Val; again, he's not particularly agitated - not particularly eager to get to the emergency exit either.]
So, you try imagining something then.
[...Don't be petty like that.]
I will too. We can together, right? Away from doors that might lead to nothing.
[Val stops when she loses Dera’s hand. It’s worse when it’s real, somehow. She might have snapped had he not continued; but when he does, there’s something so… stupid, about it. Naive, even.
[It’s the foolish taunt of hope.]
[When Valerie turns back to Dera, her right eye, the one closer to the door, has gone pitch blank. Her expression is very, very careful.]
You really think that’ll work?
[Blue-themed people will really be the death of her.]
[The black eye, compared with Val's sudden intensity, is...a bit concerning. Dera's expression becomes careful in return, though...he's extremely out of his element. It's all a bluff if he looks like he's in control.]
It's...what you're suggesting, isn't it? [Was she being sarcastic?]
Here, maybe I can...tell you what I'm imagining, and we can help visualize it together--
Look, I know it sounds stupid, but the place isn't exactly brimming with options, huh?
[It is, technically, what Val was suggesting. Partly. She did not suggest she might be able to do diddly squat. That part makes the whole thing sound like the load of unreal nonsense like Dera was talking about.
[Funny how the tables can turn.]
[In response she simply nods. Their options are limited indeed. Take the stage, Dera.]
[Dera nods, feeling immediately stupid (read: self-conscious) for playing along at all, but...It could still be a dream, and if it isn't, then...Well, either way, anything could happen.]
Okay, close your eyes and just picture...[He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath in through his nose (coughs a bit, but you know how it is).]
It's like this big green back yard, but it slopes way down on this massive hill. There's a garden at the top with strawberries growing, but you aren't allowed to touch them yet.
[His voice, as he relays this, goes soft. He sounds...peaceful.]
There's uh...There's a weird sculpture at the bottom of the hill. It's got three big rungs on it, one inside the other like one of those nesting dolls. You can swing them around in a circle, but...you're not supposed to stand on them while they're moving. Could get hurt.
The cars...two play cars, old as shit. Not the kind with a motor - you have to move the pedals with your feet. There are rubber snakes in the backseat because real snakes keep getting in when your--
[It’s a vivid picture. It’s more specific than nearly anything even Kade’s backstory has to offer; forbidden, tempting strawberries. A swinging, three-runged sculpture. Toy cars, foot-powered and haunted by snakes. And the bluest sky—not the glaring #0000FF of an error screen, but a real, true blue, the kind only a sky with an atmosphere can make.
[It’s a childhood. It’s soft, nigh-idyllic. And it’s…
[…here?]
[Val doesn’t risk opening her eyes first; maybe she won’t, ever. The fantasy is pleasant as it is all-surrounding; a sweet, warm dream, where kids do what they shouldn’t and everything is just… nice.]
[Should Dera look around, he’ll notice a few details askew; grass textures in low resolution, and the sculpture is warped as though run through an AI blender. On the horizon, the landscape gives way to a gaussian blur. But otherwise, the place of his memory is secure, and intact and voidless, as it should be.]
[It takes Dera a moment to open his eyes. Do you ever smell a memory before you see one?
[He opens his eyes. It's his grandmother's backyard. There are some differences - a blur here and there that doesn't make much sense; it doesn't matter. Emotion wells up in his chest, forcing its way out through teary eyes. His smile is wide and breathless; he never smiles like that anymore...]
[At Dera’s voice, curiosity wins and Val opens an eye—
[—and then the other (and by now both are clear), and her mouth falls open in an utterly thrilled shock.]
It—
It worked—!
[If she thought she was a kid in a candy store at Dream-Mart, this is a carnival. No, a theme park. No, a— It’s a place! It wasn’t predefined or randomly-generated! It’s real, live, actual place— Val could kiss the ground they stand on.]
It worked!
[She runs around in a small zigzag, pausing sporadically to make sure everything is still there, and it is, and— !!!!!]
Dera! [When Val turns back to him, her grin is wider than ever. For the first time since they’ve met, that smile is real, real, real—genuinely, unabashedly joyous.] You did it!
[It's weird. Dera's no good at smiling when he's not at work. He doesn't really laugh, aside from maybe a short exhale out of his nose. He hasn't felt "joyous" in a long, long time, but...Val's excitement - Val's joy - is contagious - not to mention the miracle he's witnessing--
[The miracle he...made?
[He laughs, but it's wobbly - he's wobbly. He flops back against one of the brick walls near the garden, still laughing, still breathless. There are tears in his eyes, but they don't hurt. This is home. He never thought he'd truly get to see it again...]
This is amazing, this...
Val, you...[He laughs again, throwing up his hands as if in defeat, but it's a giddy sort of thing.]
You were right - no, listen! You did it. We did it!
[Valerie indulges the giddy runaround just a bit longer, but she does notice those strange blurs and odd textures, and Dera’s talking to her, anyway. Might as well quit while she’s ahead, for a change.
[She kicks back by the wall with him, folding her hands behind her head and still looking around in bewilderment.]
Ha, the messed-up parts are probably my contribution. [It’s a singsong little sentence.] You, on the other hand: This is the place you imagined! [Val jabs him with a finger; a little too hard, probably, if only because she has no clue what a normal amount of pressure might be with a real person. No ill intent, for once.] Told ya you had it in you!
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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What, this?
[She waves her hand in the void’s direction—although, far as it matters in not-quite-three-dimensional space, not quote into it.]
We call that a void! Or at least, a shred of it. Jumping in may or may not lead to that waking nightmare!
I have to say, though, [and Val side-eyes it, as if it might expand at any moment (but graciously, it doesn’t),] they usually don’t just spawn like that.
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[Dera says it both like it's obvious, and like he's explaining it to someone who doesn't understand that it's obvious.]
Like. What you described a few minutes ago is terrifying. And there is a void - similar, I'm guessing - right here.
Am I following?
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[Well, heck, who would Val be to judge an obvious echo?]
You follow! [Val paces up and down the aisle a bit, for a better view; true to form, the void heeds not the perspective shift.] “Void” is a bit of a catch-all, I suppose, but this is a bona fide piece of it.
[Musing out loud, and frankly increasingly concerned:] Now, why would it be here…?
[With the clipped jankiness of a stuttering video, it expands further down the aisle.]
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Is this one of the swallow-you-up-falling-forever type of voids, or...?
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Could be! They all do, if you’re not careful.
[Val’s just gonna… walk away from the liquor aisle.... Although the back walls, not unlike the face of Dera’s friend, flicker with an empty promise. What is happening here?]
There’s only one person who can consistently make anything from the void—and he’s a kid. [She can practically hear Rudy’s squeaky-pubescent protest at that, but alas Rudy is not here.] Uses his imagination. [Glancing back to Dera:] That’s what I was gonna have you do, y’know. Picture something better than smoking and shopping channels.
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It wouldn't work if I did it. I mean, I can't do that kind of thing.
[It could still be a dream, maybe, but...he's starting to feel like that's just wishful thinking.
[He does follow her out of the (empty) liquor aisle, by the way - sticking close.]
You're sounding a little judgmental, you know.
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[If Val sounded “a little” judgmental before (which she did), she definitely does now.] Dera, you misunderstand. That is the exact kind of defeatism that, where I’m from, would land you dead in nowhereland.
[The blue ones. It’s always the blue ones!]
[She stops abruptly at a crossroads, facing Dera fully, and decidedly not wanting to look at all that damn flickering out the corner of her eye.] You cannot possibly imagine nothing better at all. Have you ever given it an honest try?
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[In some ways, Dera is a cynical person; he's become that way, anyway. Playing pretend can't change anything, or else it would have by now. But has he ever given it an honest try? Of course not. It wouldn't make sense. There's no way something like that could work.
[Not...in the real world anyway.]
Not really, no.
I mean...no. Just no. [He frowns, he shrugs. He looks self-conscious.]
Things don't really work that way where I'm from, so...?
[Don't they though? Imagining a better life for yourself and making it happen? Chuck's really into ~ manifestation ~ lately. He takes a deep breath.]
I don't really...want anything other than...what I know I can't have.
[Him. Always him.]
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[Lecture? Motivation? Another line Val does not care for. She can sympathize, to that detached extent, with Dera’s hesitance; of course the idea that one suddenly can just imagine anything into existence is a jarring one. There’s a reason she’s made no move to attempt the same herself.
[However, if the void of her existence has followed her here, then surely its rules do, too. (And if they don’t—well, something else for her and Dera to figure out! …Not an exciting prospect, that.) Val simply hears out his doubts; and then, oblivious to what he’s thinking of, says:]
You could have it here. [More than a little insistent.] Picture that.
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No, I...
That's...not a good idea.
[He's read [insert required US high school short story about how bringing people back from the dead can only end in heartbreak and terror].]
It's...him, you know. My friend. I mentioned.
He can't come back.
[Dera doesn't mention that, for as much as he wants to see him - desperately wants to see him - he also...really...doesn't want to see him at all...
[He's still so angry.]
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[Ahh, that kind of “can’t have.”]
[The void swallows the nearest wall entirely. If they can see far enough, it’s consuming every reflective door of the knockoff-Slurpee freezer section.]
[Val is not looking away from Dera, however.]
Now’s probably a terrible time to mention death doesn’t last where I’m from, huh? [Flat by regular expressiveness standards, that.] Still— all you want is a person? I can empathize, do not get me wrong—
But there’s more to a real life than that.
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Not that I don't get what you're trying to say, but I really think we should go now.
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[Val can barely sputter a warning before Dera takes her hand—
[Flesh. Warm. A pulse.]
[The glitching in the walls stills. It’s Val’s eyes, instead, that flicker, like a faulty bulb about to blow. She blinks, a couple times, and it stops, and she registers, belatedly, what Dera said.]
There’s probably more void outside, y’know…? [Quiet. Her hand’s gone limp, and it’s not involuntary—
[—but Dera’s right. They can at least leave this specific place. Val shakes her head quickly, hand flinching in a way that doesn’t quite take Dera’s back; it might break his grip, it might not.] Still. Can’t get any worse than in here!
[Abruptly she turns and attempts to drag him, by the wrist, to the nearest exit.]
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Hey-- Woah-- Let's not go outside if "probably" is in the mix.
Is there like...?
[...Like what?]
Is there any way to stay safe from shit like this?
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[He’s got a point there, too, annoyingly; Val’s expecting either a door to nothing, or a strip of ground that clips off into nothing. Still, her march to the emergency exit is undeterred.]
Nope! [Expressive inasmuch as it is irritated. Not at Dera, exactly; not not at Dera. Shouldn’t he get the memo by now?] You just don’t get near it and hope for the best!
Or, [hint hint,] you imagine something better. [Rudy would be jumping headlong into this. Where are those other three?!]
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So, you try imagining something then.
[...Don't be petty like that.]
I will too. We can together, right? Away from doors that might lead to nothing.
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[Val stops when she loses Dera’s hand. It’s worse when it’s real, somehow. She might have snapped had he not continued; but when he does, there’s something so… stupid, about it. Naive, even.
[It’s the foolish taunt of hope.]
[When Valerie turns back to Dera, her right eye, the one closer to the door, has gone pitch blank. Her expression is very, very careful.]
You really think that’ll work?
[Blue-themed people will really be the death of her.]
Imagine what?
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It's...what you're suggesting, isn't it? [Was she being sarcastic?]
Here, maybe I can...tell you what I'm imagining, and we can help visualize it together--
Look, I know it sounds stupid, but the place isn't exactly brimming with options, huh?
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[It is, technically, what Val was suggesting. Partly. She did not suggest she might be able to do diddly squat. That part makes the whole thing sound like the load of unreal nonsense like Dera was talking about.
[Funny how the tables can turn.]
[In response she simply nods. Their options are limited indeed. Take the stage, Dera.]
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[Dera nods, feeling immediately stupid (read: self-conscious) for playing along at all, but...It could still be a dream, and if it isn't, then...Well, either way, anything could happen.]
Okay, close your eyes and just picture...[He closes his eyes, takes a deep breath in through his nose (coughs a bit, but you know how it is).]
It's like this big green back yard, but it slopes way down on this massive hill. There's a garden at the top with strawberries growing, but you aren't allowed to touch them yet.
[His voice, as he relays this, goes soft. He sounds...peaceful.]
There's uh...There's a weird sculpture at the bottom of the hill. It's got three big rungs on it, one inside the other like one of those nesting dolls. You can swing them around in a circle, but...you're not supposed to stand on them while they're moving. Could get hurt.
The cars...two play cars, old as shit. Not the kind with a motor - you have to move the pedals with your feet. There are rubber snakes in the backseat because real snakes keep getting in when your--
[He pauses.]
When you aren't looking.
And the sky is really...really blue today...
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[It’s a vivid picture. It’s more specific than nearly anything even Kade’s backstory has to offer; forbidden, tempting strawberries. A swinging, three-runged sculpture. Toy cars, foot-powered and haunted by snakes. And the bluest sky—not the glaring #0000FF of an error screen, but a real, true blue, the kind only a sky with an atmosphere can make.
[It’s a childhood. It’s soft, nigh-idyllic. And it’s…
[…here?]
[Val doesn’t risk opening her eyes first; maybe she won’t, ever. The fantasy is pleasant as it is all-surrounding; a sweet, warm dream, where kids do what they shouldn’t and everything is just… nice.]
[Should Dera look around, he’ll notice a few details askew; grass textures in low resolution, and the sculpture is warped as though run through an AI blender. On the horizon, the landscape gives way to a gaussian blur. But otherwise, the place of his memory is secure, and intact and voidless, as it should be.]
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[He opens his eyes. It's his grandmother's backyard. There are some differences - a blur here and there that doesn't make much sense; it doesn't matter. Emotion wells up in his chest, forcing its way out through teary eyes. His smile is wide and breathless; he never smiles like that anymore...]
Holy shit...
It really-- holy shit!
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[At Dera’s voice, curiosity wins and Val opens an eye—
[—and then the other (and by now both are clear), and her mouth falls open in an utterly thrilled shock.]
It—
It worked—!
[If she thought she was a kid in a candy store at Dream-Mart, this is a carnival. No, a theme park. No, a— It’s a place! It wasn’t predefined or randomly-generated! It’s real, live, actual place— Val could kiss the ground they stand on.]
It worked!
[She runs around in a small zigzag, pausing sporadically to make sure everything is still there, and it is, and— !!!!!]
Dera! [When Val turns back to him, her grin is wider than ever. For the first time since they’ve met, that smile is real, real, real—genuinely, unabashedly joyous.] You did it!
extremely rare icon unlocked
[The miracle he...made?
[He laughs, but it's wobbly - he's wobbly. He flops back against one of the brick walls near the garden, still laughing, still breathless. There are tears in his eyes, but they don't hurt. This is home. He never thought he'd truly get to see it again...]
This is amazing, this...
Val, you...[He laughs again, throwing up his hands as if in defeat, but it's a giddy sort of thing.]
You were right - no, listen! You did it. We did it!
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[Valerie indulges the giddy runaround just a bit longer, but she does notice those strange blurs and odd textures, and Dera’s talking to her, anyway. Might as well quit while she’s ahead, for a change.
[She kicks back by the wall with him, folding her hands behind her head and still looking around in bewilderment.]
Ha, the messed-up parts are probably my contribution. [It’s a singsong little sentence.] You, on the other hand: This is the place you imagined! [Val jabs him with a finger; a little too hard, probably, if only because she has no clue what a normal amount of pressure might be with a real person. No ill intent, for once.] Told ya you had it in you!
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