(2018-05-08) Just Like Her
Just Like Her
Summary: Callisto thinks she is doing a good duty in trying to protect Daxton's dreams. It all goes downhill from there.
Date: 2018-05-08
Related: NA
NPCs: Malachite
Scene Runner: NA
Players:
callisto..daxton..

Tempo's Room, Winbarry Estate
Tue May 08, 2018


On the second floor, a broken 4 posted bed made of walnut is against a wall with a faded painting of a forest. There is a large cracked mirror facing the window, which brings more light into the room.

===

<FS3> Callisto rolls Stealth: Good Success.

Things happened, since the conversation in the basement that day. Callisto, always one to go where she wishes, has been especially aloof. A Tuesday of classes came and went and though the fae girl applied herself and did well as always, she was on autopilot. A nagging thought followed her throughout the day.. a fear.

For despite having been turned away by the speedster for very valid reasons, Callisto yet worried for him and for his mind. For the playground it could be for a certain diabolical parent, in those deep moments of sleep. At the end of classes Callisto decided that she would 'check in', that night. With luck, if found, she could foist Malachite swiftly. Especially with the protection that Loukanos' amulet afforded to her.

So here we are now in the present after a whole day of deliberation: Callisto has made her way carefully into the boys' wing and toward a room that she has visited once before. No no get your mind out of the gutter. It is just after midnight; very easily her quicksilver form finds 'Tempo's' room. The unlocked door is pushed open carefully, and Callisto glances in. Somehow being here is a bit harder than it was prior, when she barely knew Daxton. She barely even breathes, taking a moment to see what awaits her and if it's safe to press onwards.

Daxton worked to day, he ran hard. It's what he does when he needs to thing (or sometimes not think). The speedster isn't even in PJs, just his boxer shorts, laying onto of his quilt with his pizza smelling tee and jeans crumpled on the floor. His position may be the same as when he first face planted, slightly awkward, but his breathing is deep. He crashed so hard. A stuffed frog hangs crookedly from a post of the bed, staring off at the wall.

<FS3> Callisto rolls Psychic: Good Success.
<FS3> Callisto rolls Dreamweave: Great Success.

Is this how all boys sleep? No, not even to generalize or poke fun, but there's just something so achingly human about this.. is this why Callisto favors mortals, so? It's hard to explain. To see Callisto sleeping, no matter how dog tired, is to see her lying still and restful. With a sort of preternatural stillness, even; with grace. If the downed Daxton arse-up in skivvies does something to Callisto's resolve, it's hard to tell. Nobody is watching, except maybe the stuffed frog.. but that doesn't count. She takes a deep breath to ground herself, and pads into the room carefully.. closing the door behind her. Callisto is surprised at the guilt she feels, to be intruding.

Following the line of the speedster's spine to the back of his head with her gaze, Callisto's lashes flutter closed and she eases down to seat herself not on the mattress but alongside it, the back of her head resting against the post and perhaps beneath froggie. She prays that she finds nothing; that Malachite has moved on. She breathes. In, out, in, out… count backwards. He's so deeply asleep that it's easy, as 'unlocked' as the door had been… Callisto falls into the trance that shall take her seamlessly into Daxton's dreaming mind.

It's something she should recognize immediately, the sounds of Mario cart surround them both as Dax sits on the couch playing. But it's not with Calli, it's with a two other smaller, slightly miniature versions of him. Well, the boy looks like Dax, the girl is clearly related with her dark hair and bright blue eyes. The screen is too fuzzy, to dreamlike to tell what characters or what level, but they're playing the game together. Something is thrown, and the girl lets out a very similar to Dax's whine, "Geroooooo…why can't you let me win?" Dax just laughs as he mashes buttons. Currently there is no feeling on maliciousness in his dreams.

Oh, she recognizes it. Callisto stands there unseen and unfelt in the dreamscape as it unfolds before her like an aquarelle. Bit by bit, focus comes to her; with more meditation, she begins to hear things. 'Feel' them. With some alarm, Callisto realizes where she's standing and what she's seeing. As always in dreamwalking, she's not in what one considers to be 'typical' attire: no, it's a diaphanous 'dress' of mauve, sheer black silver.. as dark faerie as one can get. There is a mild glow at the crest of her shoulderblades.. and what of the amulet? It's a point of light, at the very center of her chest. Louk's handiwork prevents Callisto's shock from reverberating into the dreamscape to attract Malachite's attention… not to say something else won't.

But this… how could this do so? Callisto moves around to the back of this dreamscape couch, eyes passing over the heads of the kids. Are these the twins that the mere mention of, one time, pushed him away?

Callisto watches and listens, stands guard. Enjoys the laughter. She wants this to stay. But…. 'Gero' ..?

Daxton seems more relaxed than anything Callisto's ever seen. He seems almost…undamaged. "Whatever. You suck." Oh, yeah, they're definitely siblings. Upon winning he starts to stand up, "You guys need to get home…" And almost immediately the dream's light hearted feeling shifts to something darker. "It's going to storm." The twins look at each otters and in a very unlikely real move they take hands, "Come home, Daxton." The boy asks, "Mom misses you. He's not there anymore." The girl raises her hand offering it to Dax. There's a movement where it looks like he's going to reach for her, but then Dax's phone vibrates in his pocket. While he reaches for it and looks at the caller ID, UNKNOWN, the twins disappear. So does the noise from the game. It's early quiet , with just the buzzing of his phone as he looks down at it.

No no, please don't go. Stay just like that. Let her watch this bickering, this moment between siblings. Let her observe this unharmed Daxton, content to lovingly pester these younglings. She could spend the entire dream observing this and simply be happy. But it's never the way, dreams shift too easily and too swiftly. Callisto will not interfere; it is not her way. But there is a distinct feeling of loss as the three stir and the kids appear to be asking their older brother to go with them.

Take her hand, Dax, take their hands and just go. 'He's' not there, as the child said; it's safe, right? Callisto watches the three plaintively, not intervening.. but she can still hope. But then the phone rings, and the children fade, and the dreamscape Daxton is looking at the phone in silence. Callisto prepares herself.. she is standing 'behind' where the trio once stood, and now it's just Daxton looking down at said phone. She moves closer.. too close by realtime standards, close enough to be awkward otherwise… but here it matters none. Callisto tries to look at the screen of this phone, then down at where the kids once stood.

Daxton frowns, shivering before hitting a button to make the phone stop. Apparently the UNKNOWN number isn't something he wants to deal with. He's suddenly in his army fatigues, although he's till in the downstairs lounge with eh TV and gaming systems. Blue eyes scan the room, like he's expecting something.

The shiver is felt. Callisto stays there beside him, almost 'touching'; this would simply result in her passing through his dream self. Blast it all why is she wanting to comfort? Reassure? It was so much easier before when she was an omnipresent voyeur! But now—

.. now he's in those fatigues. This immediately puts Callisto on guard. Fatigues are such a worrisome thing against what is yet a backdrop of… of normalcy. «I'm here, you know,» Callisto emotes to nobody in particular. Not being a Psychic, Daxton won't be able to 'hear' the words precisely in the dreamscape, but there is something as the fae girl casts her words into the subconscious ether. It's not an unpleasant sound; it's like the white noise of a woman's voice. Broken words, like a record being played backwards. Oh, if only she could communicate properly.. but someone hears her. «I won't let anything happen to you, okay?»

A tiny sense of forebode etches it's way into the dream as it shifts.

Footsteps on the stairs and Dax turns. Inferno and another very large man, disfigured. "Is it done? We need to send our report in." Inferno sounds…off. Almost robotic. Dax nods hollowly, "It is. No witnesses. The objective is already in the vault." Inferno nods, turns and starts walking up the stairs, the other man though stands there staring at Dax, like he wants something from the teen. Dax blinks, frowning and taking a step closer, "Burden? Are you al-" and the monster topples, crashing down through he borrow stairs and floor into a very large, deep , back hole.

No connotations of the bitch mother, even after Callisto made her presence known. Is Malachite off haranguing another sibling? Is she watching, waiting, biding her time? Damnit the fae girl will stay here all night if she has to… that could be awkward. But she possesses a fierce need to protect and make things right. If she cannot be there for the boy in another sense, she will be here.

Then Inferno arrives… Callisto recognizes him. By sight and smell (cigars, sulphur) .. and yes, via lessons as well. Who else can boast having a gym teacher who manifests MAGMA?! But who is that with him? Members of the Unit are notable in Winbarry but this one has never been spied before. Dax speaks his name — 'Burden' — and Callisto stares hard.

She jolts as the unknown figure falls, and immediately her eyes are roving the dreamscape. Callisto cannot predict what comes next.

Daxton screams. Even in his sleep state he whimpers, rolling slightly as he vibrates. The speedster is at the end of the hole, looking down like he's trying to figure out if he should jump in, or…something. But then the floor beneath his is gone and he too is falling, bouncing off ragged rock walls. It's a few painful bounces before Dax can get his bearings enough to start to try to parkour off the surfaces. "Burden! Inferno!….Becca?" Dreams are just terrible , throwing everything together. He's calling out, for anyone as he hits the ground and rolls. There's Burden's body, laying crumpled and broken, almost in the same exact pose the broken necked Becca was. Except now Becca's standing over him in an oriental dress looking coldly at Daxton, "This is your fault."

'Gero' (was that his real name? a part of his name?) is poised at the edge of the hole through which this 'Burden' fell. The floor makes the decision for him, dissolving because dreams are assholes, and as Daxton falls and bounces Callisto 'glides' down, the gossamer tendrils of her gown fluttering around her willowy form as she prepares herself for the next vision in this dream.

Good thing she does.

Wait, Becca?

Hey, it's broken-neck girl! Callisto takes in that which Daxton's subconscious prepares to punish him with, and the winds of emotion and dread swirl around the fae girl… she can only imagine what this would elicit in the speedster. She squints at the shade; surely this shade will have not been so cruel in realtime. «T'is not your fault.» Callisto emotes, unheard, into the dream. She has no way of knowing this but it's instinctive to say so of a boy that she is coming to favor.

Daxton's breath catches, "I-there…I didn't.." He's stumbling over his words. Dream Becca doesn't seem to care. She strongly steps through Burden's body, like a ghost, "You didn't do anything. That's why I left. You," Her nose wrinkles in disgust, "made your choice, and now you get to be the monster all alone." The speedster his vibrating, both in real world and the dream, "I…I had to stay…There were no leads, Becca…" He tries to reach for her, but his hand goes right through hers. Suddenly lights start flashing, red, like emergency flashing ones, high up on the walls. They illuminate the room, with gurnies and cold looking metal tables. Becca isn't visible anymore, but her voice echoes, "You better run, Tempo. They're coming for you."

By nature, dark fae do not like to share. But see, broken-neck girl was here 'first'. So it is with this mindset that Callisto watches and listens, wanting to know more so she can… help? Help, yes, that's right. She wants to. She left because he didn't do 'something'? Callisto cannot understand, how can she? Leads? What leads? So confusing.. this unit puzzles Callisto. Though it bothers her a bit more than she expects or wants to let on, she watches the two worriedly and notes the exchange. The lights flash and Callisto gazes around, noting the room and how it has changed.

Gurnies? Tables.. metal tables? It's too much like before… this means needles. Malachite was drawn by those.

«Run.» Callisto bids, frustrated at not being heard. It's just more of that broken, provocative white noise. «Run.»

Someone else is coming too. His scream was heard and suddenly, the atmosphere of the dream begins to edge toward true nightmare territory. Visuals will begin to worsen; bad feelings and sights will exaggerate themselves into near-insane levels. Callisto squeezes her eyes shut, she knows now who has taken notice.

Daxton would if he could, but he stands there frozen in fear. His feature blur with the amount of vibrating he's doing, but his feet just won't move. The red light bounces off of his cameo, but then something shifts, again not only in the dream, but he stiffens in his bed as well. He stands straighter, at attention. Which may be even scarier than him trembling in fear.

How aware is Callisto of that which occurs around her, while she's in the minds of others? Not very; she is at her most vulnerable. Were anyone to enter Tempo's room for any one reason, be it to check in or cause trouble, they would see her still seated on the floor beside the bed, looking for all the world as if she were sleeping. But here, in the dreamscape, deeply rooted in Daxton's mind… his fear is painful. That's the best way to describe it. Painful.

The red lights seem to slow, somewhat; if they're blinking or rotating, as some of these emergency lights are apt to do, they.. slow. The wash of red no longer blinks as if to warn, but freezes now and fills the whole 'room' as if accusing.

She's there, Callisto sees her. As tall as ever, white against black, hateful eyes. Daxton stands at attention and Malachite glowers, lips pulling into a wry sneer. She is fetchingly beautiful as always; were her eyes closed she would resemble a restful fairy queen. But when open, she looks hateful. She is here to feed.

Blue eyes land on the woman, and his brow furrows, this is not who he expected, at all. But he can't seem to say anything. Instead he watches her, confused. She's not any general that he remembers. He's not made any connections yet.

Oh, to be coined as a general would be too good of a term for Malachite. She is seen and she wills it so, allows it. Mommy Dearest may not be able to hurt Callisto here, but she can damn well still do things to upset her!

How terrible a combination for one to be so enthralling but baleful. Malachite glides toward the watchful speedster, who simply appears to be awaiting orders. How sweet.

Even without the distortion of dreams, Malachite is tall. Well over six feet, a stovepipe length of black gown masking her legs. Her hair sways and swirls in white tendrils as she encroaches upon Daxton, looking into his eyes. "What of this?" She speaks in the nightmare now, her voice potent and oddly pleasant. A strong accent. As Daxton tries to make connections, Malachite looks into his face just so.. she wills her face to shift, change appearances. She becomes the broken-necked girl, this 'Becca' in face only; lovely for but a second or two.. only to begin melting and pulling away into a rotten, mummy-like vision of horror as she holds the soldier boy's gaze. "Or this? Isn't she beautiful?" Malachite drawls in a wispy, haggard way to reflect the vision.

Callisto, previously rooted to the spot, shrieks. «NO!» .. that's just low!

Daxton still doesn't move. Can't move. But his inhales, confused as the woman approaches him and asks him an impossible to answer question, as he has no idea what is happening. But then it's not this not-general anymore, it's Becca. His expression changes, he blinks inhaling to speak but only getting out a "Be-" before she's rotting into front of him. He cries out, the vibrations starting, but his feet still rooted. His chest raises, but he's not getting any air into it.

(OOC: Roll value for Malachite confirmed via Akheilos.)
<FS3> Opposed Roll — Callisto=Psychic Vs Mommy Dearest=10
< Callisto: Success Mommy Dearest: Good Success
< Net Result: Mommy Dearest wins - Solid Victory

The boy's terror empowers the elder fae. It's amazing how real she makes the illusion look. This is warranting a response, that which Malachite wants … delicious horror. She is an Empath in the worst way, savoring these terrible emotions. She cannot be here all the time, with other spawns to corral… but once in awhile Malachite finds paydirt. She pulls her head back, the dripping ghoul still an overlay to her normal face. Daxton is scared into near stillness save for the vibrations, feet unable to move… she cranes forth, wills the illusion into her hands, turns pretty 'girl' hands into blackened grasping sticks of bones and wasted skin. She is about to knit those fingers into the shoulders of Daxton's fatigues when she is.. interrupted. A mental 'pushback' vibrates the dreamscape some as Callisto tries to ward her off, and Malachite looks up at the fae girl with a baleful look. "Go now. I'm busy. Little bitch cur Daedhelwen." And with a much stronger blast she slams her daughter backwards into the space, the 'air' around the younger fae blurring and vibrating.

It is now 'Becca' of the rotten face that leans forth with intention to bite, like all good movie zombies worth their salt. Malachite cannot physically hurt Daxton this way, but she's damn well going to try scaring the shit out of him. It can't be nice being this up close and personal to a mockery of a girl he once loved, or still does!

<FS3> Daxton rolls Dax-Speed Phasing Vs Mommy Dearest=10: Failure.
<FS3> Opposed Roll — Dax=Speed Phasing Vs Mommy Dearest=10
< Dax: Good Success Mommy Dearest: Great Success
< Net Result: Mommy Dearest wins - Solid Victory

It's instinct really, nothing more. The Ghoul Becca leans in and Daxton's body start to vibrate harder, almost like it's trying to throw her off. But it's not enough and those rotten teeth can do hater damage they can to his dream body. He does scream though, at least the dream allows for that. The red lighting probably isn't helping with eh mood.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Callisto=Psychic Vs Mommy Dearest=10
< Callisto: Good Success Mommy Dearest: Good Success
< Net Result: DRAW

It's like Malachite has gone from the appetizer, straight to the filet mignon made with aged beef. Delightful. Scream, scream, scream more! Callisto knows that she hasn't the power to oust the hateful thing, not right now… but she yet has one more tactic that may very well be the worst route possible. The most awkward. It could damn her in his eyes completely but she will still find a way to come back if she needs to, just to protect.

Callisto, attuned to the energies of dreams, can see the awful disguise that her mother has taken. Her anger spikes and once again, is cast out in another psychic rebuttal. It's enough to jolt the older fae woman back, away from the terrified speedster, away—-

It's all the time Callisto needs to withdraw, to pull her mind out and breath the connections. She awaken then, still seated alongside Daxton's bed… and blearily, almost drunkenly she pushes herself to stand and reaches out, tries to nudge him awake. This will suck… but at least it will cut Malachite off abruptly. It's the biggest 'fuck you' that she can give to her mother.

But then she's going to have to explain, fast, why she's physically here.. in his room… unless he instinctively throws a punch. That'll suck too.

Daxton's twisted onto his side, expression pained and fearful. The speedster is still deep in sleep, though no screaming out loud. Just a low whimper, which makes this all the more heart-wrenching. Big strong Daxton, whimpering.

"Daxton." Callisto's voice, perhaps piercing the din. Good, he did not awaken screaming… no need to attract attention. Hey, everyone in the boys' wing, look! It's Callisto in some long, elaborate, fetching nightgown (looks expensive, silk woven from unicorn hairs.. oh whatever, silk doesn't come from unicorns.. details details) … in Daxton's room! After hours!! She's aware now, rather quickly; used to returning fast. She didn't miss the whimper and she's aware that he hasn't woken fully from the nudge. Both hands now, resting upon his shoulder blade.. Callisto shakes firmly. "I heard you, I was worried. Wake up, Daxton!" She whispers fiercely.

<FS3> Opposed Roll — Daxton=Physical Vs Callisto=Body
< Daxton: Great Success Callisto: Failure
< Net Result: Daxton wins - Crushing Victory

There's a voice, and he's being touched, shaken. Flight or fight is weird for speedster, as it's usually both rolled into one. To be fair, he was being bitten by a zombie ex, who wouldn't be freaked out? His elbow comes around, quicker than humanly possible and connects with Callisto before the speedster is across the room, couched by his closet. There's something in his hand already, but the gun isn't lifted. Instead he sways, breathing hard and confused. He's in his room? And Callisto's there? What?

Thud!

Speed and surprise are easily enough to shove Callisto back and away. It happens in seconds; part of her knew this was coming. She'll take the repercussions if it means getting him out of Malachite's grasp. The elbow caught her, albeit not quite in a crucial spot.. though her sternum aches a tiny bit as that had been what fielded the blow. She is sprawled, not lying down but sitting up, palms pressed down into the froth of her attire. Guns are scary, no matter what race one happens to be. By now Dax is wielding the thing, looking at her, swaying and confused.

"T'is I," The girl continues in a soft voice, hoping to ease him. "Callisto. I heard you. I had to make sure you were alright." She looks troubled.

"Nobody saw me."

Poor Strawberry, she's going to have a pretty epic bruise. Daxton blinks, his breathing still hard, "Wh-what are you doing?" He heard her words, but is kinda still out of it. Pink tongue darts out to wet his lips an the gun is lowered and then slipped into presumably a holster in his closet. Or some hidey place he's using. Instead of responding any more he slides down to a sitting position, eyes closing. The dream is already starting to slip away, he knows it was Becca, but something was bad about her. "Are…are you alright?" She's clutching her nightgown, did he scare her?

Durability, that's what Callisto has. No, she cannot heal at a super quick pace, but she can take some hits and bounce back well from them. Bruise? Indeed. Nothing cracked or damaged save for the damaged vessels which comprise a bruise. Doesn't help that she's so fair, but at least the gown doesn't dip quite that low lest we really have issues. Her hands lift from the skirts of the nightgown, rest in her lap. One lifts to press to the afflicted part of her chest though the sensation of the imminent bruise hardly bothers her. She does not stand or move to otherwise approach or engage the speedster, simply watches him carefully. He seats himself, also, eyes closed. Callisto looks her fill when she is sure he is not noticing.

"I am fine." Offered in her smooth way, head tilting. Her hair is loose and obscuring her ears. "You cried out, you were troubled. I wished to stop it." Said feebly, she isn't getting up. Not yet. "F-forgive me for intruding." In more ways than one, it's hard to look away.

Daxton's concentrating on trying to get his breathing under control. It's almost a full minute before he responds, "Sorry…I…sometimes I get nightmares." Ha ha ha. Sometimes. "Next time just….ignore me. Or tell AfterThought." Maybe he is aware of what his Unit mate does for him. He still doesn't open his eyes, strange flashes from the dream bounce around his head. Why is he thinking about Mario cart?

"Blast it, I can't ignore it. I wish to help you." Callisto says quietly, her frow furrowed. Too much? Too much. It's not helping matters much, given how their last conversation went. She is struck dumb by his mention of.. 'getting nightmares'.. God, doesn't she know. Callisto clears her throat and stands, rights herself, smoothes the champagne pinkish-yellow fabric of her sleepclothes. "AfterThought." She echoes, she will remember that name. Might he.. or she… be an ally in combating these nightmares?

"Do you need help in returning to sleep?" Oh, this can be taken the wrong way. She means well though… and she looks horribly worried. TOO worried.

But not scared.

Daxton frowns, hand going up to rub his face. "Yes you can. Just keep walking. It's not hard." He'll rethink that later, why was she walking by his door anyway? "Yeah. I think AfterThought's tentacles would be able to wake me up without taking a hit." Then his brow furrows more and he turns those baby blues towards her. He elbowed something, didn't he? He thinks so. "Did I hit you?" He doesn't see any blood, no broken bones. No obvious bruising. But he feels like he hit something? Was the part of the nightmare? Sitting there mostly naked, he looks up at her, "No. I'm not going back to sleep." He'll just be tired tomorrow, it happens.

"Tentacles?" Okay, what kind of super is this AfterThought? The confusion shows in Callisto's eyes; a paler bluish-green as opposed to true-blue. A hand lifts to rest upon the face of the Gorgon amulet, feeling it's silver facade. It's always warm, being so close to her body. It protected her; face-to-face with her mother, where the evil mentalist should have been able to hurt her… she couldn't. But still, Callisto couldn't save Daxton's sleeping mind. Her face falls then, and she looks down at her feet. Callisto isn't one to break eye contact very often.

She's hiding something.

"You did. I am fine." She insists; there's no marking on her face or arms, nothing pinkening to represent the fallout from a hit. She's favoring her chest though, giving it a light touch, though she could just be fidgetting with the necklace. Callisto looks up again.

Damnit it's not easy when he's down to the skivs. Genetics favored this mortal. Ahem. Callisto takes a deep breath.. "T'is late, not even past the Witching hour. You will be tired if you stay up." She counters, flinching and pulling her hand away from the amulet.

Daxton nods, "Like…shadow stuff…" He doesn't really understand. But then she's not looking at him and saying she's fine. She weights 120, soaking wet, taking a hit from him isn't fine. The speedster uses his powers and is suddenly next to her, looking her up and down for signs of injury, "I could ahem really hurt you. You can't just.." Ugh. "Where did I hit you?" He doesn't assume it's her chest, she plays with that necklace all the time now. "That's what caffeine is for."

120? Surprisingly inaccurate. Sure she's tall and willowy, but it's easy to assume she's that light. Maybe a bit heavier but that's not the point! She took an up-close hit from a startled speedster and doesn't appear to be showing for it. Or she can't exactly show it.

Then he's there and Callisto flushes. Naturally he just wants to make sure that he didn't do damage but she can't… really can't.. the onceover indeed reveals no visible injuries. Whatever it is, the gown hides it. "I cannot show you. T'is my chest, here," She indicates the breastbone, pats the gauzy material which obscures it. Lightly though as to not hurt. "I was… a bit too close, in trying to rouse you. You reacted out of instinct, so do not.. t'is my fault."

A beat or two, Callisto is red, though she has stopped fidgetting. "It shall go away in a few days. I should not have been so close to you, but I had to do something." Said in a whisper as she shrugs helplessly, winces. Okay, maybe a bit tender.

Oh. Her chest. Instinctively he looks down, cause she's pointing out her chest! But then Dax's eyes come up, his own cheeks suddenly pink in the realization that he's very much close he's naked. And then there's a gust of air as he moves away and into some sleepy pants. "You should have thrown something at my head then. Don't even wake me up like that…I could have killed you."

"Do you remember what you dream about? Can you tell me, or will it trouble you?" Callisto tries to digress, watches his face. He reacted to Malachite in the nightmare.. he must have saw her, for the bitch mother revealed herself to him. This was done to maximize her payout of Daxton's horror, and to insult Callisto herself. Does he remember her, though? Callisto prays not. All she knows is that she couldn't stop her, couldn't stop that faerie woman… she herself is protected but she cannot hide for long. She watches him watching her, sees his eyes dip—-oh snap. Hey look he's gone!

Callisto clears her throat, clasps her hands together in front of her waist. A look to the sleepy pants, to that frog on the post of all things, then back to him. Could have killed her?

"I am sorry." The girl says softly.. for a few things, truthfully. Her fingers rest at her collarbone again. "I seem to be rather skilled at discomforting you."

Daxton frowns, head shaking, but clearly he remembers something. He's just not going tot all about it, in true Dax fashion. The frog keeps staring at the wall, finding the two of their's dance very boring. Or maybe he's blind, poor thing. "No. I bothered you." And then struck her. He sounds upset at himself. "You didn't do anything wrong." He's the one that's broke, remember?

She's here in his room; she invaded his space. How can she stand here and waffle? It was the skivvies, that threw her off-guard. Blame the boxers. But now their distraction has been obscured by sleepypants and Callisto cannot hide behind fluster. She takes a deep breath; one of those far-reaching, belly-filling sorts that she must surely use during her 'bendy exercises'. She may as well be out with it.

"I came here deliberately. T'is dastardly of me." She used that word, but cannot dredge it's humor. "Mother was in your dream, and I tried to oust her. When I failed, I instead tried to wake you." The girl explains, moving to seat herself on the very corner of the bed, though not so much as to invade too much space. She just needs to think.

"I suspect she will leave you be for a time; were you to try resting again she shan't be there." She sneaks a look at him, brow furrowed. "I need to grow stronger. She targets you, because I favor you. Might your AfterThought have ways to help defend you while I… find a way to silence her for good? Else I will have to be close to you often." Callisto looks apologetic.

Daxton's still got nightmare brain. He blinks, "You…came in my room because your mom was in my dreams?" There's a flash of someone cold, dark and beautiful. He rubs his eye, "So you ….fought her?" He's confused. She was in his head…does that mean Calli was too? Close? What does she mean by that?

He's on the right track! Even if Callisto doesn't know that he's connecting the dots… surely he will. She takes another breath, feeling bad. Unsavory. Like a true dark faerie.

"Since our… talk downstairs a few days ago, I vacillated. I wished not to cause anymore grief. But I worried, because I knew she would want to invade your dreams." She watches his face, tentatively. "I came here willingly, snuck in, and entered your dreams." Said frankly, no use being frilly and obscure with it. Callisto looks momentarily haunted, beseeching. "Tonight so happened to be a night that she had chosen to prey upon you. I saw things, Daxton.. t'was not my intent to pry, t'was only to find her… and she was twisting things to trouble you, to scare you… for that feeds her. I could not strike her down so instead I had to wake you."

A sigh, she looks down at her knees. "I was there too, but you could not see me. I could have willed it, but I did not. S-so forgive me, for I have been dishonest. I meant well." Blush. "But I saw. I shall not breathe a word to anyone."

Daxton suddenly wishes he has speed put a shirt on too. He's feeling really exposed. "You…were in my head. In my dreams, without permission?" Nevermind she fought her mother there. That's another issue completely, "How many times?" He doesn't know what she thinks she saw, but there was nothing to see! (Denial is the best!) But his body language betrays him, his fist clenching, a few small tremors. "You don't go into my head without my permission, ever again. Do you understand?" The blue of his eyes are sharp, angry. Betrayed. Maybe not by her, but it's directed that way.

"Twice." Callisto says softly, keeping her cool. Anyone who can read body language shall see truth there. She watches him, sees the nuances of upset and anger. Can she blame him…?

Somehow it's the look that catches her the strongest, beyond words, and Callisto shrinks. Then—well, she does not do so for long. Why is she pouring so much energy and worry into this? Sure, there's the sense of ownership of a problem that she brought on. But if the boy does not remember much, and if he's being helped by another member of his team.. who is she to…

Oh blast it, blast these mortals! Blast her! Blast this situation!

Color flushes Callisto's cheeks now and though she wants to rail back she needs to fight it lest she draw attention, because she does care, she does! She stands carefully, winces at the forward motion and how it affects her sore skin. Watches him again.

"Whyfor do you do this? Why do you not allow me to care?" She snaps back, clears her throat softly, holds her head high. "What I saw only makes me care, even moreso! I can stay out from hereon but.." But, Malachite. Callisto looks down again, brow furrowed. She can't bear to leave him suffer alone.

Daxton 'S eyes widen, "Care? You just trespassed into my dreams! You didn't ask, that's what your mother does!" Mean? A little, but truthful. ""You can't claim to want to be better than her, but then do what she does. Even for the right reasons!" His fist is still clenched, "You could have asked me, left a note. Anything to let me know you'd be 'dropping by' in my head!" His face crunches up in a angry expression, but he turns away to head to his closet. He's remembering flashes, which isn't good. Upsetting things. Poor Burden. A tee shirt is yanked off the hanger from his closet. Muscles flex as he lifts it over his head and onto his torso.

Mean truth is the worst truth, because it is truth! It's like truth on steroids. Callisto will not insult this truth by denying it… though now to be likened to that.. thing. Dear God, she shares the woman's DNA. She even looks a lot like her; not entirely.. any softness in her expressions and manner come from her flakey father, Vasili. But the fact remains: however well-meaning, Callisto did as Malachite does. If there is an alarm clock or any manner of timepiece in the speedster's room beyond the wind-up watch that the resident speedsters seem to be outfitted with, she seeks it out. But, throughout it all: Callisto is silent. Stone cold silent.

The fact that it is Daxton saying these things hurts, yes; it's rightful. It's truth. How could she have been so caught up in the goodwill of it all that she overlooked something so obvious?

Gutted. She's not like her, she can't be. "I shall go." Callisto whispers, sways slightly. Damn Malachite, damn her. "There shall be no further soirees into your dreams." Just barely a whisper, that.

There's strangely few clocks, one wind up, one digital. The tee is pulled down roughly and he glares at her silent form. Silent is almost more insulting, gliding around lie a damn fairy princess. "Good." At least that was obviously after the promise to not go into his dreams, not at her going. The accusatory look has fading into a more tired, generally upset look.

Can she leave, though, on such bad terms? There's the Malachite way of departing — beyond going nuclear on some hapless soul's mind and melting it down into perpetual nitwittery — and then there's… well, Callisto can yet do things differently. There is a Callisto way of doing it, surely? To defer to never again doing 'that' (dreamwalking) and gliding out to save face, indeed like a damn fairy princess… it's a bit beyond her.

There are some siblings who could do it, those who cling to Mommy Dearest's coattails.. but it appears Callisto is one of the radicals. Those ones either die early, but at least they die doing something they enjoy. Even immortal, you only live once.

She turns to look at him, hand lifting to touch the door, dropping. He looks so upset, and it's her doing.. a lot of it. The defensive iciness drops from her features and tentatively, Callisto approaches him. Ruh roh. c.c

Daxton wasn't going to stop her, if she needs to be aloof and floaty, fine. His arms fold, maybe to steady himself some. He's tired, his legs ache from all the running at work and the workout before that. But then she's turning and approaching him. The speedster doesn't pull away, but his eyes narrow slightly, unsure what she's ding now. "What?" He sounds more tired than angry too, at this point.

Then, if he will allow her, the girl will simply slip her arms around him in a hug. At any definite sense of Do Not Want, she will abstain.. otherwise if he's not hastening to get away, Callisto will carry on. She cannot do so quite as tightly, though, since her sternum kinda hurts. c.c …. but it's an apologetic gesture all-the-same as she rests her head on his shoulder. Again, assuming he allows it.

"Mine are a people who are used to taking freely." Said quietly, her sigh heard and felt. "We are vengeful and cruel and filled with avarice. Some of us pull back, find a reason to take another path, but it's hard. T'is a long process and a hard one, and occasionally we slip. Even when we mean well." Callisto pauses, eyes closing briefly. Airing out her racial dirty laundry is hard. She feels like a fiend. "C-case in point here." Cough, ahem. Okay she will not resort to her voice catching. No no no hell naw. But it did. "Forgive me. I shall find another way. Amass that army we spoke of." Said without an ounce of haughtiness. "I do not wish to see you depart in deep dislike of me." Hey, she was the one who had to depart THIS room. But, details details.

Daxton smells of running and pizza this close. He stiffen briefly at the hug, but doesn't pull away. He's mostly just confused by this girl. Damn it all, she shouldn't be asking him feel bad, but here they are. His arms loosen and the drop so she can move against his chest in a better hug. Awkward hand go up to pat her back. It's not a hug back, per say, but he's tired and unsure what to do. "You just…you have to communicate with people. You're not in charge of people's dreams. That's personal."

Hey, Callisto will take that. She's not being given the heave-ho or otherwise shoved away. Hugs are nice, too, however harried the situation. Poor Daxton, he just had to meet a faerie. He smells of pizza and running and she, as usual, smells nice. Some sort of pricey and/or exotic body wash or whatever it is that an affluent (not for long) member of the dark court sees fit to spend their clams on. Like a true old soul she doesn't bathe in whatever it is she uses, but dabs it behind the ears and on wrists like an old lady.

The pat to the back loosens another sigh, a relieved one, and she looks up. "But I felt it so, and despite it having been the wrong thing to do I… I felt it was my mistake to counter. I am the reason she is interested in you. I knew naught of what to do, beyond trying to fix it." It sounds naive… it's proof that she is still a young fae. The hug tightens briefly as she makes her point, but eases. Ow, bruise!

Daxton inhales, her scent is fancy. Another pat before he tries to pull away. It's not the he doesn't like how she feels in his arms, it's more he does. And that's confusing. And he's tired and kinda freaked out. "And you can counter it. But not without permission…" Stepping back he rubs his face, glancing to the time. It's not as late as he thought it was. "I need to get some food in me." And with that he'll start walking towards the door. Stressed out? Food can fix that!

Another dark fae trait, at which Callisto could be very effective at… but won't: seduction. A pinch of glamour to enhance that which is, a proper tone and movement…. yeah no. That, too, is a Malachite move. There are also a couple of other tarts in her lineage whom Callisto would rather see dead than—-yeah, it's not a close family. But at the second pat, Callisto eases back… lingering too long is not wise. She remembers another part of the basement convo, too. To disrespect those parameters after just tripping through his mind would be too much. It's all too confusing.

Food is not Callisto's bag. She pauses, bidding him to wait. "Allow me to depart first." Said huskily, "Give it a minute or two, I wish not to awaken anyone and risk causing trouble." Yeah, seeing the leggy Metis girl creeping out of the boys' wing would turn some on their ears. At least Dax is meant to be there!

One final look at him, and the girl sets off. Though her endgame will not be in the kitchen.

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