[Geir doesn't have many strong, positive memories outside of the life with Vern that he's desperately tried to build in the last few months, and those are up and down and carry their own pitfalls. the best he can come up with is one that's neutral(?) or at least less dangerous, and never far from his subconscious: being trapped deep underground.
the dreamscape wrenches again as they both focus. the shrieking winds and malevolent glare of the apocalypse are blocked out as if a wall has come between them and it. the landscape they finally construct is indeed strange, oddly reminiscent of the image of the Quiet Lands that stuck in Geir's mind after Jay showed it to him: a Derse that's clearly underground, with dark soil overhead instead of space, but embedded with many glittering stones or insects that might pass as an imitation of stars for a creature that had never seen the sky. it's hushed here, as in the deep places of the earth, but the vivid violet streets are intact and the towers still stretch up to the ceiling. there's a slow, drumming noise like a heartbeat. the Carapacians flicker in and out like they're not sure they're supposed to be there, and make no noise when they move.
the World-Serpent's eye is still staring at them as a baleful faceted jewel in the ceiling, and the Red Miles bisect the city like a sword slash, but these signs of trouble don't immediately come after them. they're just there. it's... relatively peaceful, for now, anyway.
Geir flops down on the street in an exhausted huddle.]
no subject
the dreamscape wrenches again as they both focus. the shrieking winds and malevolent glare of the apocalypse are blocked out as if a wall has come between them and it. the landscape they finally construct is indeed strange, oddly reminiscent of the image of the Quiet Lands that stuck in Geir's mind after Jay showed it to him: a Derse that's clearly underground, with dark soil overhead instead of space, but embedded with many glittering stones or insects that might pass as an imitation of stars for a creature that had never seen the sky. it's hushed here, as in the deep places of the earth, but the vivid violet streets are intact and the towers still stretch up to the ceiling. there's a slow, drumming noise like a heartbeat. the Carapacians flicker in and out like they're not sure they're supposed to be there, and make no noise when they move.
the World-Serpent's eye is still staring at them as a baleful faceted jewel in the ceiling, and the Red Miles bisect the city like a sword slash, but these signs of trouble don't immediately come after them. they're just there. it's... relatively peaceful, for now, anyway.
Geir flops down on the street in an exhausted huddle.]
Oh. Oh. I didn't like that.