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[A century hadn’t seemed like so very long ago, prior to his entrapment. Indeed, when one measured time in terms of eons, Morpheus had arrogantly not thought anything of Hob’s protestations that life was worth living for the first few centuries of his existence. Of course he could find enough to entertain himself with, early on. Of course he’d rail in the glory. No, it was only when true suffering hit that Morpheus’s interest had been piqued in another manner.
Hope. It existed despite Hob’s wretched state. The defiance was so pure, a ghastly humor. Death, but a mug’s game. Arrogant, indeed.
But then, hadn’t Morpheus been called as much by others?
Hob’s pointing out that Morpheus cared had stung precisely because it was a truth Morpheus hadn’t wanted to face. One that had curdled inside of himself, at war with his duties and responsibilities, while imprisoned in Madoc’s chamber. Somehow he had managed to keep track of the passing of time. He had known precisely when he was meant to meet Hob.
There was the irony, there. Had Morpheus not been imprisoned, had he not had the experiences he’d had after, his pride might have kept him from attending, anyway.
Yet it was that precise imprisonment that had made him tardy.
Morpheus hadn’t really touched upon the specifics, but he knew that the effects of his entrapment and quest afterwards had left him changed. So many had noted it, while he was still sorting out what it meant. He did know though that he took to heart dearly his purpose. If he might serve them better… it was humbling, but he was willing to learn.
Which meant having breakfast with Hob, on a new schedule, at the new inn. It was a warm Saturday, unseasonably warm even for summer, but Morpheus was still dressed in his black pants, t-shirt, coat, and boots. He’d made it a point to arrive early, and a steaming cup of untouched coffee sat in front of him. He sat still, posture perfect, sensing the nodding off heads around him while he waited. When Hob arrived he didn’t stand but he gave a slight nod of his head. He slid the undrunk coffee across the table as a greeting.] I didn’t put anything in it, in case your tastes had changed. [After all, he was used to procuring a bottle of wine if not harder in their meetings.]
Hope. It existed despite Hob’s wretched state. The defiance was so pure, a ghastly humor. Death, but a mug’s game. Arrogant, indeed.
But then, hadn’t Morpheus been called as much by others?
Hob’s pointing out that Morpheus cared had stung precisely because it was a truth Morpheus hadn’t wanted to face. One that had curdled inside of himself, at war with his duties and responsibilities, while imprisoned in Madoc’s chamber. Somehow he had managed to keep track of the passing of time. He had known precisely when he was meant to meet Hob.
There was the irony, there. Had Morpheus not been imprisoned, had he not had the experiences he’d had after, his pride might have kept him from attending, anyway.
Yet it was that precise imprisonment that had made him tardy.
Morpheus hadn’t really touched upon the specifics, but he knew that the effects of his entrapment and quest afterwards had left him changed. So many had noted it, while he was still sorting out what it meant. He did know though that he took to heart dearly his purpose. If he might serve them better… it was humbling, but he was willing to learn.
Which meant having breakfast with Hob, on a new schedule, at the new inn. It was a warm Saturday, unseasonably warm even for summer, but Morpheus was still dressed in his black pants, t-shirt, coat, and boots. He’d made it a point to arrive early, and a steaming cup of untouched coffee sat in front of him. He sat still, posture perfect, sensing the nodding off heads around him while he waited. When Hob arrived he didn’t stand but he gave a slight nod of his head. He slid the undrunk coffee across the table as a greeting.] I didn’t put anything in it, in case your tastes had changed. [After all, he was used to procuring a bottle of wine if not harder in their meetings.]
[As time passed, Hob could have gone anywhere. Traveled anywhere. His not-friend had stood him up at the inn but still, Hob did not die. What did it mean? Would he simply continue to exist forever until the end of the world? He wasn't sure, but one-hundred years didn't quite feel complete without the regular check-in, so he took measures to keep the old inn standing. After several hundred years, he had actually accrued a fortune enough for that and the new inn, which he insisted should be named after the old one.
He had grown wiser, too. It was better to make ones investments from the shadows so there were less questions about his enduring youth. For now, he lived a good life as a London school teacher. He didn't have to, but experiences kept life worth living. In a few more years, he'd have to move on and do something else before people began to question his agelessness.
Today, he arrived, on time, for breakfast with a friend. He had an instant smile for Morpheus the moment he spotted the endless one. When Hob took his seat across from him, he smiled at the offered coffee.]
Some things never change.
[Seeing Hob there, a waitress came over and asked,] What'll it be, love?
Another cup of coffee for my friend here, and... [He picked up the menu for a swift glance.] Two of the morning specials. Cheers.
He had grown wiser, too. It was better to make ones investments from the shadows so there were less questions about his enduring youth. For now, he lived a good life as a London school teacher. He didn't have to, but experiences kept life worth living. In a few more years, he'd have to move on and do something else before people began to question his agelessness.
Today, he arrived, on time, for breakfast with a friend. He had an instant smile for Morpheus the moment he spotted the endless one. When Hob took his seat across from him, he smiled at the offered coffee.]
Some things never change.
[Seeing Hob there, a waitress came over and asked,] What'll it be, love?
Another cup of coffee for my friend here, and... [He picked up the menu for a swift glance.] Two of the morning specials. Cheers.
[Hob was a curious person to Morpheus. Oh, his initial bluster and bragging over avoiding Death wasn't unheard of, but that he truly maintained that perspective over the years wasn't what Morpheus had expected. Perhaps he hadn't given people enough credit to have assumed they'd grow bores with what their lives offered.
Or, perhaps Hob simply was special in that regard.
Somehow, even at his lowest, Hob held onto an optimism and curiosity about where the world might take him. That life held so much for him, even if there were moments where it sunk downward. It was a tenacity of spirit. Hob was also one of the few beings that knew what life had been like over the centuries. Morpheus was surrounded by beings that lived far past human lifespans, but they didn't live in the waking world. Hob could provide a unique viewpoint, and it was one that Morpheus could now admit he enjoyed hearing.
It was easier to let Hob order the food when the waitress approached. Morpheus merely gave her a silent nod before she departed, his gaze turning to study the familiar face of his friend. Oh, the hair and clothes changed over the years but not that particular expression. Morpheus found himself offering a hint of a smile in return.]
Morning specials. Dare I ask? [His long, thin fingers ran down the menu to find the dish in question. Normally he found food in dreams rather than here in reality.] You know I haven't even had coffee in your world.
Or, perhaps Hob simply was special in that regard.
Somehow, even at his lowest, Hob held onto an optimism and curiosity about where the world might take him. That life held so much for him, even if there were moments where it sunk downward. It was a tenacity of spirit. Hob was also one of the few beings that knew what life had been like over the centuries. Morpheus was surrounded by beings that lived far past human lifespans, but they didn't live in the waking world. Hob could provide a unique viewpoint, and it was one that Morpheus could now admit he enjoyed hearing.
It was easier to let Hob order the food when the waitress approached. Morpheus merely gave her a silent nod before she departed, his gaze turning to study the familiar face of his friend. Oh, the hair and clothes changed over the years but not that particular expression. Morpheus found himself offering a hint of a smile in return.]
Morning specials. Dare I ask? [His long, thin fingers ran down the menu to find the dish in question. Normally he found food in dreams rather than here in reality.] You know I haven't even had coffee in your world.
Edited 2022-08-29 18:51 (UTC)
[Some people would've found it difficult to constantly have to change with the times, but Hob embraced every new adventure. Had he been a less adventurous man, the experiment would've been over a long time ago. His own manner of dress stood out far less than his companion's, opting for a comfortable pair of olive cargo pants and a white t-shirt, paired off with some sneakers. But yes, he still smiled the same way he smiled at everyone in the dark tavern in 1389.]
Eggs. Sausages. Buttered toast and a side of beans. Coffee is key, of course. If you want to understand people, you should try living like them a little. Not that I have any idea what it's like to live as you.
[The waitress is prompt with the coffee, and it won't be fifteen minutes before the food is served. Hob is content to drink his coffee in the meantime, always looking over the rim of the cup to gauge Morpheus' reaction. The waitress also left some milk and sugar, should either gentleman want it.]
Eggs. Sausages. Buttered toast and a side of beans. Coffee is key, of course. If you want to understand people, you should try living like them a little. Not that I have any idea what it's like to live as you.
[The waitress is prompt with the coffee, and it won't be fifteen minutes before the food is served. Hob is content to drink his coffee in the meantime, always looking over the rim of the cup to gauge Morpheus' reaction. The waitress also left some milk and sugar, should either gentleman want it.]
I've had coffee in the Dreaming before, but it's different, I know. The dream version of food or drink is often idealized and very particular to an individual's taste. Sometimes, it is nothing that exists in the waking world at all. [People were a curious thing indeed with how their thoughts inspired ludicrous items, but amusingly, not many ever thought they tasted badly. It was fairly unanimous that even when people suffered in their sleep, food and drink were staples that tasted good. As though those basic human necessities were clung to as a candle in the dark nightmares.
There had been the hint of a question in Hob's words, or at least, Morpheus thought there might have been in the statement about how he hadn't any idea what it was like to live as Morpheus did. It was true enough that often when Hob had asked Morpheus personal questions the Endless being had brushed them aside. In the past it had been to keep a wall up between them, one where Morpheus was in control and Hob the curiosity for him to explore. Now that they were friends... well. It wasn't easy but Morpheus knew it also wasn't fair to leave it so one-sided.]
I can get hungry. [A simple truth to share, but one that held a vulnerability that he didn't often offer.] Much like you I don't die of it, and I can find food in dreams to satiate myself, but it does happen. [Much like Hob had starved for a century, so had Morpheus, he realized. A small swell of empathy rose in him in a way it couldn't have prior to his capture.
As the coffee was set in front of him, Morpheus lifted the mug and smelled it. A touch smokey but not unpleasantly so. He noticed that Hob was watching him. A little wryly he couldn't help but inquire from it.] Are my tastebuds being judged right now? [He took a small sip. It was hot, coffee was never scalding in dreams, but outside of that...] It isn't bad. Though I don't get the same effects from caffeine that you do.
There had been the hint of a question in Hob's words, or at least, Morpheus thought there might have been in the statement about how he hadn't any idea what it was like to live as Morpheus did. It was true enough that often when Hob had asked Morpheus personal questions the Endless being had brushed them aside. In the past it had been to keep a wall up between them, one where Morpheus was in control and Hob the curiosity for him to explore. Now that they were friends... well. It wasn't easy but Morpheus knew it also wasn't fair to leave it so one-sided.]
I can get hungry. [A simple truth to share, but one that held a vulnerability that he didn't often offer.] Much like you I don't die of it, and I can find food in dreams to satiate myself, but it does happen. [Much like Hob had starved for a century, so had Morpheus, he realized. A small swell of empathy rose in him in a way it couldn't have prior to his capture.
As the coffee was set in front of him, Morpheus lifted the mug and smelled it. A touch smokey but not unpleasantly so. He noticed that Hob was watching him. A little wryly he couldn't help but inquire from it.] Are my tastebuds being judged right now? [He took a small sip. It was hot, coffee was never scalding in dreams, but outside of that...] It isn't bad. Though I don't get the same effects from caffeine that you do.
[Hob lowered his cup a little when Morpheus spoke some of his life experiences. He's surprised, but also pleased to hear the details. He doesn't know how curious Morpheus truly is about him, especially after a few hundred years of getting the same 'I want to live' answer, but Hob had so many questions of his own about the endless one.
He laughed at the question and shook his head, setting his cup down to prepare for the arrival of the plate that's set in front of him.]
Not at all. I'm just interested in your reactions to human things.
[Morpheus was now the curiosity.]
I nice, big breakfast on the weekend is one of those simple pleasures.
[He picked up his fork and began to eat.]
He laughed at the question and shook his head, setting his cup down to prepare for the arrival of the plate that's set in front of him.]
Not at all. I'm just interested in your reactions to human things.
[Morpheus was now the curiosity.]
I nice, big breakfast on the weekend is one of those simple pleasures.
[He picked up his fork and began to eat.]
[Morpheus folded his hands around the coffee mug for a moment, his gaze moving up from the steam to meet Hob’s eyes.] I suppose some curiosity on your end is only fair. I did after all use you for mine, at first. Which isn’t to say I don’t care about your life now. I do want to hear about it. [It was just not for the same reason. Morpheus had long since stopped expecting Hob to want death. Now he simply enjoyed the man’s company and found he had come to look forward to his tales and companionship.] So much can change on earth in just a hundred years’ time. It isn’t like that in other places.
[At the arrival of the food Morpheus methodologically picked up a fork and after a moment’s poking began to eat slowly. In truth he was a little hungry, and his interest took him to the beans first. They were a little sweet against all the savory.]
Simple I can understand. [Simple to him implied efficiency, or elegance. Something that didn’t need any trappings to get the job done well.] Pleasure… I don’t often take the time. [He had certainly never taken a weekend off.] What is it you do then on these weekends, after having a large breakfast? Don’t tell me you take a nap to digest it.
[At the arrival of the food Morpheus methodologically picked up a fork and after a moment’s poking began to eat slowly. In truth he was a little hungry, and his interest took him to the beans first. They were a little sweet against all the savory.]
Simple I can understand. [Simple to him implied efficiency, or elegance. Something that didn’t need any trappings to get the job done well.] Pleasure… I don’t often take the time. [He had certainly never taken a weekend off.] What is it you do then on these weekends, after having a large breakfast? Don’t tell me you take a nap to digest it.
[Whenever he might, Hob liked to look at Morpheus. He watched the delicate upturn of his brow or the way he examined his food. The King of Dreams was far too elegant for the mortal world.]
I thought dreams were supposed to be a place for one's pleasures.
[Not all of them of course, but some of them. And yet, Morpheus took no pleasure in it, himself? That's a shame.]
A good nap does sound tempting, but I thought we might walk to the park. There's always some musicians playing and lots of people. You could observe and ask questions about anything you'd like.
I thought dreams were supposed to be a place for one's pleasures.
[Not all of them of course, but some of them. And yet, Morpheus took no pleasure in it, himself? That's a shame.]
A good nap does sound tempting, but I thought we might walk to the park. There's always some musicians playing and lots of people. You could observe and ask questions about anything you'd like.
[Morpheus could feel Hob's gaze upon him. Not in a cruel, dissecting way like Burgess. No, this was a softer inquisition, and Morpheus found that while it felt more intimate, he didn't mind it. That was a surprising revelation indeed, as such focus on him when he did not command it often made him feel uncomfortable. It was in fact too easy to feel comfortable in Hob's presence. Even after so long apart and a nasty fight, Hob's forgiveness had helped them slip back into one another's presence with ease.
Though things weren't exactly the same, were they? He wasn't the same. Perhaps Hob wasn't entirely, either. Maybe both their alterations had left room for them to find even more common ground.
He was pausing a bit too long, too lost in his own musings. Musings about the man in question himself, who had asked another and Morpheus realized he'd taken a hair too long in answering.]
The dreams created are for the pleasure of the dreamers. [There is of course the follow up question of 'Why can't they be both?' that Morpheus honestly does not have an answer to offer. It is simply not how he is used to operating.] I suppose finding pleasure for its own sake, outside of fulfilling my purpose, to be... complicated. Is it not for you?
[He took another bite of the toast. Bread, eggs, sausage. Even the beans. Food that had been around for so many centuries now. Cooked differently but not fundamentally changed. A few crumbs fell onto his shirt, standing out against the black, and he brushed them aside.] A walk it is. I am behind on what music is played these days.
Though things weren't exactly the same, were they? He wasn't the same. Perhaps Hob wasn't entirely, either. Maybe both their alterations had left room for them to find even more common ground.
He was pausing a bit too long, too lost in his own musings. Musings about the man in question himself, who had asked another and Morpheus realized he'd taken a hair too long in answering.]
The dreams created are for the pleasure of the dreamers. [There is of course the follow up question of 'Why can't they be both?' that Morpheus honestly does not have an answer to offer. It is simply not how he is used to operating.] I suppose finding pleasure for its own sake, outside of fulfilling my purpose, to be... complicated. Is it not for you?
[He took another bite of the toast. Bread, eggs, sausage. Even the beans. Food that had been around for so many centuries now. Cooked differently but not fundamentally changed. A few crumbs fell onto his shirt, standing out against the black, and he brushed them aside.] A walk it is. I am behind on what music is played these days.
[The long pause didn't bother Hob. He didn't expect Morpheus to respond the way humans did, even in conversation. If he needed a little extra time to mull over things, that was fine with him.]
I find pleasure wherever I can manage to. For humans, well, normal humans, life is too short. One takes pleasure in things whenever one can.
[But he does have another question that pops up.]
Does the Master of Dreams, dream?
[Hob thinks it would be a little sad if Morpheus ruled over dreams but had none of his own. Only spending his time watching the dreams of others.]
I find pleasure wherever I can manage to. For humans, well, normal humans, life is too short. One takes pleasure in things whenever one can.
[But he does have another question that pops up.]
Does the Master of Dreams, dream?
[Hob thinks it would be a little sad if Morpheus ruled over dreams but had none of his own. Only spending his time watching the dreams of others.]
I suppose that is true. Mortals have good reason to make the most of their time. I’m pleased that so much of yours is in pursuit of happiness. Although to be honest, there are many immortals I know who still revel in pleasure. I can think of only a few who shy away from activities outside their duties.
[Perhaps he was the odd person out, in that respect. The few times he had attempted to have a personal life outside of duties, things had spectacularly upended to where he was hesitant in trying again. Nada, then Calliope. Meeting with Hob under the pretense of learning more about humanity so to better serve them felt safer. It was true even, he did want to learn more. Yet admittedly, he was also enjoying Hob's company on top of it.]
[The next question was one he'd gotten before, though one he didn't always answer. In a soft voice he spoke.]
No. I do not dream. I do not sleep, as you do. When I grow weary, I merely rest. No actual slumber. [He'd sometimes wondered what it might be like to dream, but honestly, he was so used to being in control that the prospect of not knowing what might come when he closed his eyes was a little disconcerting.] I have experienced your dreams, though. The dreams of so many. I suppose I should not take it for granted.
[Morpheus looked down at his plate, still half-filled.] You were not joking about this being large. We might need to roll out of here.
[Perhaps he was the odd person out, in that respect. The few times he had attempted to have a personal life outside of duties, things had spectacularly upended to where he was hesitant in trying again. Nada, then Calliope. Meeting with Hob under the pretense of learning more about humanity so to better serve them felt safer. It was true even, he did want to learn more. Yet admittedly, he was also enjoying Hob's company on top of it.]
[The next question was one he'd gotten before, though one he didn't always answer. In a soft voice he spoke.]
No. I do not dream. I do not sleep, as you do. When I grow weary, I merely rest. No actual slumber. [He'd sometimes wondered what it might be like to dream, but honestly, he was so used to being in control that the prospect of not knowing what might come when he closed his eyes was a little disconcerting.] I have experienced your dreams, though. The dreams of so many. I suppose I should not take it for granted.
[Morpheus looked down at his plate, still half-filled.] You were not joking about this being large. We might need to roll out of here.
[Hob also wondered why Morpheus did not do anything to give himself pleasure if other immortals had no issues with it, but his friend was a very serious man. He wasn't entirely surprised that Morpheus lead a strict life.]
One day, you'll have to tell me which of my dreams is your favorite.
[It's probably a dream Hob doesn't remember after waking, but perhaps Morpheus does. He looked down at his own plate, which was emptier than Dream's and laughed.]
We don't have to finish.
[He waved the waitress over to pay the bill.]
One day, you'll have to tell me which of my dreams is your favorite.
[It's probably a dream Hob doesn't remember after waking, but perhaps Morpheus does. He looked down at his own plate, which was emptier than Dream's and laughed.]
We don't have to finish.
[He waved the waitress over to pay the bill.]
That’s an interesting question to pose. You’ll have to give me time to think on which to choose. You’re quite the expressive dreamer when I have checked in. [He hoped it wasn’t seen as creepy or intrusive, that he kept abreast of the dreams of those who entered his kingdom for their nightly respite. After Morpheus had gotten away from Burgess, and had gained his strength back, he’d searched for Hob’s to at least reassure himself the man was alive and well enough.] Do you remember your dreams often? I know not everyone does, I’ve heard that complaint in the past.
[Morpheus gave a nod at Hob assuring him they needn’t finish it all. He ate a few more bites before the waitress came to clear the table, not wanting to let too much of it go to waste. His eyes fell on the check as he set down his knife and fork to be cleared. She had set it beside Hob to be paid, and indeed, Morpheus didn’t have actual money on him at the moment. Including his head at Hob, he thanked him sincerely.] Thank you for breakfast. It was quite good. Not what I expected. [Which was the point of this, wasn’t it?
He rose to his feet afterwards, bumping up accidentally against Hob on their way out in order to let others pass by. It was narrow between the tables and the space was filling up with people as the morning rush began to enter. Morpheus would much rather step in closer to Hob than nearer someone else he’d only met in his realm. Morpheus gave a nod at the waitress in farewell when she tossed them a cheery goodbye, and exited the Inn into the warm sunshine of London’s waning summer.] It’s hard to imagine sometimes this is the same city as all those centuries ago. Though perhaps not for you, who experienced all those changes ongoing as you did.
[Morpheus gave a nod at Hob assuring him they needn’t finish it all. He ate a few more bites before the waitress came to clear the table, not wanting to let too much of it go to waste. His eyes fell on the check as he set down his knife and fork to be cleared. She had set it beside Hob to be paid, and indeed, Morpheus didn’t have actual money on him at the moment. Including his head at Hob, he thanked him sincerely.] Thank you for breakfast. It was quite good. Not what I expected. [Which was the point of this, wasn’t it?
He rose to his feet afterwards, bumping up accidentally against Hob on their way out in order to let others pass by. It was narrow between the tables and the space was filling up with people as the morning rush began to enter. Morpheus would much rather step in closer to Hob than nearer someone else he’d only met in his realm. Morpheus gave a nod at the waitress in farewell when she tossed them a cheery goodbye, and exited the Inn into the warm sunshine of London’s waning summer.] It’s hard to imagine sometimes this is the same city as all those centuries ago. Though perhaps not for you, who experienced all those changes ongoing as you did.
[Hob didn't feel as though it was intrusive, not entirely, but he did look momentarily awkward and blushed, which he tried to hide with his napkin as he dabbed his mouth. After all, a man couldn't control what or who he dreamed about, and Hob was a man, after all. Some dreams were not fit for publication.]
Sometimes. Sometimes I remember them, but it's like trying to remember what something looks like through a fog. Other times, it's less a memory or more of a feeling when I wake up. Fear. Loss. Pleasure.
[He knows some people are the type that remember their dreams even more vividly. Perhaps they're better connected to the other realm.
As Morpheus thanked him, Hob smiled.]
I'm glad you thought so. But that's just the start. We have other things to see and do.
[He moved to the door but was stopped by the sudden rush of people making their way noisily in. So as not to impede their walking, he stepped aside and with only a bit of space to work with, his arm went naturally around Morpheus' waist, hand on the man's hip to draw him closer and allow the others some more room. His shoulder turned outward, shielding his friend from all the jostling and bumping that came with people squeezing through the space between tables. For a second, he just enjoyed that closeness until he had to let go so they could proceed outdoors.]
Indeed. I helped pave this path, you know.
[Hob gestured at the pedestrian walkway that lead into the park and wound its way inside.]
Sometimes. Sometimes I remember them, but it's like trying to remember what something looks like through a fog. Other times, it's less a memory or more of a feeling when I wake up. Fear. Loss. Pleasure.
[He knows some people are the type that remember their dreams even more vividly. Perhaps they're better connected to the other realm.
As Morpheus thanked him, Hob smiled.]
I'm glad you thought so. But that's just the start. We have other things to see and do.
[He moved to the door but was stopped by the sudden rush of people making their way noisily in. So as not to impede their walking, he stepped aside and with only a bit of space to work with, his arm went naturally around Morpheus' waist, hand on the man's hip to draw him closer and allow the others some more room. His shoulder turned outward, shielding his friend from all the jostling and bumping that came with people squeezing through the space between tables. For a second, he just enjoyed that closeness until he had to let go so they could proceed outdoors.]
Indeed. I helped pave this path, you know.
[Hob gestured at the pedestrian walkway that lead into the park and wound its way inside.]
[Morpheus didn't miss the redness that crept over Hob's face at his description of the man's dreams. He wanted to say that Hob had nothing to be embarrassed about, that Morpheus had certainly seen worse, but he thought that perhaps prolonging that particular discussion might only make things worse. Best to simply leave it be, and discuss Morpheus entering Hob's dreams at a later time if there was an issue.][At the door he felt Hob's rough, warm hand grasp at his waist and tug him closer. Morpheus couldn't help a look of faint, bemused fondness crossing his face at how Hob reacted to the crowd and how his shoulder turned in to bear the brunt of the people's passing. How Hob once again moved right into protecting Morpheus without a second thought, no matter the Dream King's powers. Those old soldier instincts truly never did go away. Or perhaps this was always a side to Hob, and that had led to him being a good soldier back in the day. It was... sweet was perhaps the word. It was also true that bumping into people was not a social interaction that Morpheus welcomed. Morpheus wordlessly placed a hand on Hob's arm, a silent acknowledgement of his efforts, before they parted. Touch starved for over a century, Morpheus found his thoughts lingering on the contact when only too soon it was gone.]
[At least there was a pleasant topic to fill the space and distract him from what had just transpired.] Did you help fund the repavement, or did you actually provide the manual labor for it? Neither would surprise me, honestly. After this many years, I know you have quite a few tricks and skills up your sleeve.
... I can't believe you built a new inn. [Hob earned a small, fond smile at that, along with some light teasing.] That was almost sentimental of you. Until I realized you wanted an excuse for large breakfasts.
[At least there was a pleasant topic to fill the space and distract him from what had just transpired.] Did you help fund the repavement, or did you actually provide the manual labor for it? Neither would surprise me, honestly. After this many years, I know you have quite a few tricks and skills up your sleeve.
... I can't believe you built a new inn. [Hob earned a small, fond smile at that, along with some light teasing.] That was almost sentimental of you. Until I realized you wanted an excuse for large breakfasts.
[Hob tucked his hands into his pants pockets as they strolled together. There were others walking as well, so he kept his pace with Morpheus, close at his side. At times, his bare arm brushed against the sleeve of the other man's coat, and Hob mused at what others must've thought at seeing Morpheus dressed head to toe in black on such a sunny day.]
I put my own hands to some of these stones. Believe it or not, fighting is only a small part of soldiering. Much of the time, there's labor involved.
[It wasn't uncommon for an army to suddenly put down new roads or bridges as they went from one territory to another. The work better facilitated troops that might reinforce them later.]
Oh, that...
[Hob glanced over his shoulder at the inn behind them, knowing the standing remains of the White Horse was just a block down the street. He always held out hope that Morpheus would one day return.]
What if you were to come back someday? I couldn't have you meeting me for drinks in an abandoned building.
I put my own hands to some of these stones. Believe it or not, fighting is only a small part of soldiering. Much of the time, there's labor involved.
[It wasn't uncommon for an army to suddenly put down new roads or bridges as they went from one territory to another. The work better facilitated troops that might reinforce them later.]
Oh, that...
[Hob glanced over his shoulder at the inn behind them, knowing the standing remains of the White Horse was just a block down the street. He always held out hope that Morpheus would one day return.]
What if you were to come back someday? I couldn't have you meeting me for drinks in an abandoned building.
[Morpheus didn’t mind the closeness when Hob brushed up against him. Had it been most anyone else they would have earned a look and a step away, but Morpheus simply continued strolling onward, his own elbow occasionally bumping his friend back. It was pleasant company, and for one who had so recently been deprived of that, very welcome.]
I can believe that. Soldiers are often not situated in the heart of civilization, especially centuries ago. Creating structures to protect one against enemies and inclement weather, or paving roads, would be required. I have also heard that soldiers became quite efficient cooks out of necessity. [Not every company, especially in the old days, had a cook around to feed everyone. Nor did they have consistent rations.] You did a decent job. Nary a crack in the foundation so far.
[Hob’s words that the new inn was an optimistic hope that Morpheus would one day return touched him. He studied Hob for a moment, at a loss for words at how much that meant to him. Finally he found his voice, quiet and low.] It is a very fine place to meet, Hob. You did well. Perhaps… it was time, anyway. For part of the past to crumble and something new to be rebuilt in its place. Destruction is a natural part of the world, but so is what comes after.
I can believe that. Soldiers are often not situated in the heart of civilization, especially centuries ago. Creating structures to protect one against enemies and inclement weather, or paving roads, would be required. I have also heard that soldiers became quite efficient cooks out of necessity. [Not every company, especially in the old days, had a cook around to feed everyone. Nor did they have consistent rations.] You did a decent job. Nary a crack in the foundation so far.
[Hob’s words that the new inn was an optimistic hope that Morpheus would one day return touched him. He studied Hob for a moment, at a loss for words at how much that meant to him. Finally he found his voice, quiet and low.] It is a very fine place to meet, Hob. You did well. Perhaps… it was time, anyway. For part of the past to crumble and something new to be rebuilt in its place. Destruction is a natural part of the world, but so is what comes after.
[Hob thinks Morpheus might be surprised at the number of skills he's picked up over the years. He liked to keep busy and soak in all the wonders of the world. That's why he never saw fit to die. Staying busy helped a great deal after Dream didn't come to their usual meeting. There was a time he wondered if the spell was lifted and he would start to grow old or if he'd simply collapse all-together, but it never happened.]
Places and people. Eventually, change happens.
[And for an endless too, it would seem. His friend has changed so much over the years. He thinks Morpheus is finally starting to see that.
Hob's path gravitates in the direction of some music playing. Sure enough, there are some musicians doing a set. People are parked on complementary blankets in the grass, so Hob motions to one where they can sit partially in the shade.]
So, you want to understand humanity? Why now, after all this time?
Places and people. Eventually, change happens.
[And for an endless too, it would seem. His friend has changed so much over the years. He thinks Morpheus is finally starting to see that.
Hob's path gravitates in the direction of some music playing. Sure enough, there are some musicians doing a set. People are parked on complementary blankets in the grass, so Hob motions to one where they can sit partially in the shade.]
So, you want to understand humanity? Why now, after all this time?
The calamitous and the quiet, both types of alterations joined by their inevitability.
[It was true that Morpheus had thought himself above change. While mortals lived and died, and gods relied upon the strength of faith, he was simply tied to a biological function of so many beings that stretched out for eons. He had never really considered that having contact with so many dreamers might have an impact on him the way that he did on them. That he might alter, as the beings he served did, in a relationship of reciprocity. In a way seeing it as such was like they held power over him. It had taken his talk with Death after his imprisonment for him to see that perhaps him needing them like they needed him was not a dynamic to be downplayed but rather embraced.
How to put that into words was the question that floundered him as he followed Hob. He gestured for Hob to take the spot that was more in the shade, as the sun didn’t bother Morpheus in the same way it might humans. He settled down next to his friend then, one leg extended and the other with his knee drawn up. One elbow rested upon his knee. His free hand played with the blades of grass that poked upwards around the edge of the blanket. It felt warm and a touch dewey from the rain the previous evening. The air was mingled with the scent of nearby flowers, perspiration, and food carts selling items. He looked curiously at the musicians as they played a contemporary jazz piece of their own making. Chaos and improvisation blending into unexpected harmony.
It was a few long moments before he began to answer Hob.]
Knowing their stories isn’t the same thing as knowing them. I was… detained by a group of them. For a spell of time. [How he hated admitting that.] After I escaped, nothing felt quite the same. Not even my role as overseer of dreams. It was pointed out to me that perhaps my previous understanding of my role was limited, in such a way that wasn’t apparent before now.
[It was true that Morpheus had thought himself above change. While mortals lived and died, and gods relied upon the strength of faith, he was simply tied to a biological function of so many beings that stretched out for eons. He had never really considered that having contact with so many dreamers might have an impact on him the way that he did on them. That he might alter, as the beings he served did, in a relationship of reciprocity. In a way seeing it as such was like they held power over him. It had taken his talk with Death after his imprisonment for him to see that perhaps him needing them like they needed him was not a dynamic to be downplayed but rather embraced.
How to put that into words was the question that floundered him as he followed Hob. He gestured for Hob to take the spot that was more in the shade, as the sun didn’t bother Morpheus in the same way it might humans. He settled down next to his friend then, one leg extended and the other with his knee drawn up. One elbow rested upon his knee. His free hand played with the blades of grass that poked upwards around the edge of the blanket. It felt warm and a touch dewey from the rain the previous evening. The air was mingled with the scent of nearby flowers, perspiration, and food carts selling items. He looked curiously at the musicians as they played a contemporary jazz piece of their own making. Chaos and improvisation blending into unexpected harmony.
It was a few long moments before he began to answer Hob.]
Knowing their stories isn’t the same thing as knowing them. I was… detained by a group of them. For a spell of time. [How he hated admitting that.] After I escaped, nothing felt quite the same. Not even my role as overseer of dreams. It was pointed out to me that perhaps my previous understanding of my role was limited, in such a way that wasn’t apparent before now.
[Hob took the offered spot in the shade and leaned back a little onto his hands. He could see there was a lot going on in his friend's head. Morpheus has been through a lot. When Dream speaks of his captivity, Hob frowns, a darkness in his eyes.]
Had I known, nothing would've kept me from you.
[Hob is absolutely serious about that, his eyes fixed on Dream when he speaks. No amount of guards would've stopped the immortal soldier from storming that castle, or mansion, whatever the case.]
So you were held captive by men, and now... your role feels different? How so?
Had I known, nothing would've kept me from you.
[Hob is absolutely serious about that, his eyes fixed on Dream when he speaks. No amount of guards would've stopped the immortal soldier from storming that castle, or mansion, whatever the case.]
So you were held captive by men, and now... your role feels different? How so?
I know. I know you would have. [The words were said softly, a look of fondness mingled with a touch of sadness evident on Morpheus’s face. Of course Hob would have come to his aid if he’d known, even with their fight the last memory between the men. Even with his own safety at risk.] I don’t regret though that you were unaware. Oh, not for my pride… well, not entirely. Nor because I doubt your mettle in being helpful. It was simply not a burden I wished to fall on your shoulders. I know you carry centuries enough of those.
… I remembered. When our time to meet came to pass. I could tell the passing of time. It inched, but I knew when we were to meet. For what that is worth. [He had never forgotten Hob, nor their arrangement.]
It’s difficult to explain fully. The difference. I’m still trying to sort it out myself.
[Morpheus let out a slow breath, unused to the focus on himself. It was fair though, fair questions. Hob wanted to know his motivations and why wouldn’t he?]
When I returned, I had lost a good deal. It took time to rebuild the Dreaming and myself. Afterwards I felt… incomplete? I have never felt that before. As though something was missing that I had never noticed. It was suggested to me by my sister - by Death - that perhaps reconnecting with the people I served might rekindle my purpose. That I might need those who dream as much as they need me. And I… want to be there for them the best I can. I take what I do very seriously, Hob. I would rather be humbled than… insufficient. They deserve better. I already left them in a lurch for century and change.
… I remembered. When our time to meet came to pass. I could tell the passing of time. It inched, but I knew when we were to meet. For what that is worth. [He had never forgotten Hob, nor their arrangement.]
It’s difficult to explain fully. The difference. I’m still trying to sort it out myself.
[Morpheus let out a slow breath, unused to the focus on himself. It was fair though, fair questions. Hob wanted to know his motivations and why wouldn’t he?]
When I returned, I had lost a good deal. It took time to rebuild the Dreaming and myself. Afterwards I felt… incomplete? I have never felt that before. As though something was missing that I had never noticed. It was suggested to me by my sister - by Death - that perhaps reconnecting with the people I served might rekindle my purpose. That I might need those who dream as much as they need me. And I… want to be there for them the best I can. I take what I do very seriously, Hob. I would rather be humbled than… insufficient. They deserve better. I already left them in a lurch for century and change.
[It was comforting to know that during such a terribly lonely moment during Dream's life, he remembered the day they were supposed to meet and thought on it. Did he know that Hob was waiting there, at the inn, all day for him? As each hour passed and Morpheus didn't walk through the doors, he grew sadder and a little more hopeless. Even that heartbreak didn't end Hob, though. He continued on, the way he always does.]
I'm not afraid of burdens.
[He notes, and his hand moves to briefly touch upon Morpheus' hand, then slips away before Morpheus might react poorly to the touch. At least, Hob worries he might. He turns his attention back to the musicians, but then a word catches his ear.]
The people you serve?
[A slow smile. Did he really just make himself, one such as himself, sound subservient to another? And to say that he needs them?]
Incredible.
I'm not afraid of burdens.
[He notes, and his hand moves to briefly touch upon Morpheus' hand, then slips away before Morpheus might react poorly to the touch. At least, Hob worries he might. He turns his attention back to the musicians, but then a word catches his ear.]
The people you serve?
[A slow smile. Did he really just make himself, one such as himself, sound subservient to another? And to say that he needs them?]
Incredible.
It is one thing to not be afraid, and another to have them heaped upon you. I don’t want to be the cause of your distress.
[The touch on his hand is warm. Morpheus can feel the callouses present upon the fingers from years of hard living before Hob had become immortal. His physical form was more durable now, though still capable of being captured or even dismembered. Morpheus’s gaze remains transfixed on Hob’s hand covering his own paler one, not pulling away from the contact. It was easier not to make eye contact right then, especially when he felt some regret when Hob removed his hand. Morpheus’s fingers curled up afterwards, the soft blanket pillowed against his palm. It is the incredulity in Hob’s tone that finally drew Morpheus’s eyes back upwards.
At seeing Hob’s merriment over Morpheus’s statement, he earned a wry look in response.]
Yes, go on, have your laugh. It hasn’t been an easy adjustment, I assure you. I’m trying, though. You know I do take my purpose and function seriously.
[The touch on his hand is warm. Morpheus can feel the callouses present upon the fingers from years of hard living before Hob had become immortal. His physical form was more durable now, though still capable of being captured or even dismembered. Morpheus’s gaze remains transfixed on Hob’s hand covering his own paler one, not pulling away from the contact. It was easier not to make eye contact right then, especially when he felt some regret when Hob removed his hand. Morpheus’s fingers curled up afterwards, the soft blanket pillowed against his palm. It is the incredulity in Hob’s tone that finally drew Morpheus’s eyes back upwards.
At seeing Hob’s merriment over Morpheus’s statement, he earned a wry look in response.]
Yes, go on, have your laugh. It hasn’t been an easy adjustment, I assure you. I’m trying, though. You know I do take my purpose and function seriously.
[Hob noticed the way Morpheus looked at their hands when they touched. How his fingers curled into the blanket or.. how they might have curled around his own hand if it were still there. It made his chest feel tight.
When he's told to have his laugh, he does. Chuckling softly and dropping back to lie on the blanket. Staring up at his friend, he notices how much softer Morpheus' features look in the sun. Hob's own face is peppered with the flecks of light that break through the leaves of the tree above them and shift when the wind blows.]
Tell me about it. What's it like?
[His purpose. His function. Hob is curious and wants to know more.]
When he's told to have his laugh, he does. Chuckling softly and dropping back to lie on the blanket. Staring up at his friend, he notices how much softer Morpheus' features look in the sun. Hob's own face is peppered with the flecks of light that break through the leaves of the tree above them and shift when the wind blows.]
Tell me about it. What's it like?
[His purpose. His function. Hob is curious and wants to know more.]
[As Hob lay backward Morpheus instinctively shifted to face him better. It left him sitting cross-legged, his posture still fairly perfect, as he studied the play of light and shadow across Hob’s face. After a moment, Morpheus wordlessly shrugged off his coat. It required a bit of finagling as he was sitting on the end of it, but he managed to gather it in his hands. Beneath he wore his simple black shirt. He offered the jacket to Hob, gesturing at the man’s head in a silent indication that Hob could use the jacket as a pillow if he wanted. After all, there was only hard ground and a thin blanket otherwise, unless he used his arm as a pillow instead.]
It’s… difficult to put into words, I suppose. When the first specks of life began to dream, I began to exist. My role and rule has always been to provide for and to protect dreamers. Every night, and it is always night somewhere, on some world, beings bring themselves to me. All their hopes and fears, their trials and triumphs. It is my responsibility to provide for them what they need so they are ready when they wake to face what they must. To create, or destroy. To exist with clarity and purpose of their own.
It’s… difficult to put into words, I suppose. When the first specks of life began to dream, I began to exist. My role and rule has always been to provide for and to protect dreamers. Every night, and it is always night somewhere, on some world, beings bring themselves to me. All their hopes and fears, their trials and triumphs. It is my responsibility to provide for them what they need so they are ready when they wake to face what they must. To create, or destroy. To exist with clarity and purpose of their own.
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