eachdraidh | 3 ☭ VIDEO & TEXT | OPEN TO BOTH COURTS

dream a little dream of me

[ nine year old luke, minus the scar over his right eye, is in the kitchen, sitting upon a stool with a prototype of a tamagotchi his father (albeit, through his mother) had given to him as a birthday present. it's the first of its kind, his mother had said, none of the other children in the world had ever seen nor gotten their hands on this tiny little egg with a virtual pet inside. he sits at the island, transfixed by his toy, as may castellan smiles, crafting him a peanut butter sandwich as cookies bake in the oven. may glances at him from the corner of her eye, the shade a bright, clear green. ] Why don't you ever ask for a friend? Han could always do with a Leia, Luke. [ her eyebrow rises pointedly, but luke misses it. ]

[ luke doesn't glance up, fiddling with his tamagotchi. shrugging his shoulder, his tone is absent, not paying much attention to her suggestion. ] Maybe. [ he breathes out, ] Han's fine on his own.

[ with her own shrug, may returns to her task while luke seems enrapt with his little pet. but after a while, he notes his mother has stopped moving, and, with a quick glance upward sees him spying may glancing toward the sink, with a taped picture of hermes above it, the edges stained with splashes of water. luke watches her, brows creasing slightly, as sadness seems to sweep over his expression. her features seem to droop, wearing an expression luke describes as sad, her mouth turned down and her eyes dulling in brightness. the tamagotchi remains in his hands, but is no longer the centre of his universe. ] Can we go to the park?

[ may doesn't quite snap out of her reverie until a few moments, his own blue gaze hard against her profile, waiting patiently for her to return to him from a world he doesn't quite understand nor follow. she smiles, but, this time, it doesn't quite reach her eyes. she still doesn't look at him, opting to glance toward the photograph of a man luke's only heard about. hermes, the man who can hear him even when he hasn't picked up a telephone to dial the number he doesn't even know. ] We'll go to the park tomorrow. [ she glances toward him with a smile. ] And, no, we're not getting a dog. [ she goes back to slathering the peanut butter on his sandwich. ] We'll have to leave after lunch, Luke. So no dawd — [ but she stops mid sentence, gasping the rest of the syllable. stilling, her gaze distant. her green eyes seem to spark, a brighter shade swirling within them before he loses sight of her eyes altogether as a scream wracks her body. when the sound seems to make its escape from its prison, she turns to luke with haunting glowing eyes, cloudy, as dense as the fog that occasionally settles atop westport. ]

[ with trepidation, luke waits for his mother to blink and her eyes to turn green again, but they remain cloudy, her stare unnerving. his voice shakes with fright. ] Mom?

[ rather than approach her, acting on his own worry, anxiety builds within his chest as may's face seems to crumple, her attractive features almost turning ugly with fear and grief all at once. her voice is shrill, nothing like the low and warm tones it had been moments prior: ] My son. Not his fate! [ she begins to advance toward him, but despite the focus of her eyes, hard upon him, luke knows she can't see him. he pulls himself from the stool, frightened. her hands grip his shoulders, her knuckles turning white. ] Hermes, help! It's not his fate — terrible and dangerous!

[ wriggling, he struggles to break from her hold, eyes shut tightly as he flinches. luke manages to take a few steps back, stumbling as he does so. the moment he doesn't feel the press of her sharp talons in his upper arms, he turns and bolts out the door. he runs as fast as his legs will carry him, the tamagotchi held tightly within his grip as he stampedes along the footpath, carelessly across the road without looking both ways, until he finds himself at the park, panting. before he can fully bend himself in half and press his hands against his knees to catch his breath, he collapses onto the park bench he walks toward. all of his movements feel as though he's floating on a cloud, his bones and muscles moving of their own accord. ]

[ still breathing heavily, luke's eyes are wet, a few tears having escaped to trail down his cheeks and leave a stain in their wake. he feels one curl beneath his chin, and that's when he wipes it with the back of his hand, before rubbing his eyes roughly with his fingers. it's then he remembers the tamagotchi clutched tightly in his left hand, interfering with his attempts to dry his face and breathe the redness from his neck and cheeks away. opening his fingers, he takes note his little animal seems to be injured. with a few quick presses of the buttons, his brows furrow, from concentration to annoyance, as his little pet begins to fade. ] No, no. Han … [ his little egg tells him his pet is dead, neglected from its owner for not filling its bowl in time. luke's fist forms tightly around the toy before he throws it as far as he can from himself, it landing somewhere in the dirt. through gritted teeth, ] Stupid Hermes.

[ he's uncertain of how long he sits there, seething, but the moment he realises he's calm, the sun has begun to set, and his skin feels damp and blotchy. his gaze skims over the playground, deserted, save for a man sitting on the far bench in the distance. he's shrouded in darkness, but he doesn't seem to move. rather than being unnerved by his presence, luke merely shrugs it off, pulling himself to his feet, and walking the distance back home. ]

[ the front door is closed, but with an easy twist of the knob, he opens it, not remembering it slam behind him in his desire to flee. the house is dark, may nowhere to be found, but his legs, nonetheless, carry him to the kitchen rather than the sanctuary of his room. on the kitchen table, on a plate, is a peanut butter sandwich with a few cookies, some burnt around the edges, and an empty glass waiting for him. opening the fridge, he steals the kool-aid. pulling himself up into the chair, he pours himself a glass and picks at the crust, eating it in silence, the darkness settling upon the house as no lights are turned on. ]

text

[ two hours later, luke will respond to any commentary he earns, but first he opts to press this into the hands of everyone an hour and fifteen minutes after the broadcast. the moment it happens, he knows — he's the kid of the guy who rules technology, after all. despite his own attempts to manipulate the video from sight, he can't quite erase it from the locket network. ]

I guess this is the time to make a confession.

I'm a big Wookie fan.

[ it's easier to be flippant about something he refuses to acknowledge, not even within the moment both annabeth and thalia had met may castellan with a fourteen year old luke. he misses his mom, but it's the shame of his own actions that has him acting as though he doesn't. ]

( ooc: may's vision dialogue was shamelessly borrowed from the last olympian. )

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Stiles is used to dealing with problem in the manly fashion of pretending they don't exist. He can turn the proverbial eye and honestly, he's also just glad to find someone else that knows what Star Wars is. Long live Lucas.]

Not to mention cool tree houses. Ewoks are living the dream. All they need is wifi and outlets for my Xbox and it'd be Eden.

[ someone has clearly been reading the very few and rare forum comments he makes about the ewok's living situation. wifi and xbox are particular hot topics for luke, considering he's been lounging about in the station for a good month trying to surf the net and kill some zombies. ]

Sounds like my type of party. But what Xbox games are we talking here?

Don't forget the free food. None of this scavenging for crap business — it's a party, not an Easter egg hunt.

There's bad XBox games? I managed to get a few of the house elf kitchen things to make pizza. I feel like I should get a prize for that somehow. A prize aside from being able to have pizza.

Good answer.

But before we advance to our final round of Reverse Jeopardy, I have two questions.

One: What type of pizza?

Two: Was it good pizza?

Bonus round: Thoughts on garlic bread?

I got them to do three kinds for the sampling. There's a guy here from some sword swinging world who'd never had it, so yeah. We had meatlovers, the best version of deluxe here I could get, and mushroom and ham. They don't have pineapple, so no hawaiian. It was what I think real Italian pizza's like. A little crisp on the edges and not as puffy on the crust, but pretty good. Bonus round: There's something inherently wrong with people that don't like garlic bread and they're probably vampires.

Pity. I really wanted a lei.

[ but, hey, there's something a little curious in the text he receives. a guy who has never had pizza? luke's beginning to learn that there are a few oddballs in drabwurld who haven't experienced life like he has — whether it be littered with monsters, running for their lives, or living oblivious to the beasts which linger in the dark. some, it seems, don't even know how to operate technology — the most important thing to punctuate a day! ]

I'm Luke. Not a vampire, but big garlic bread fan, and definitely going to stake out the kitchens when I get a whiff of pizza in the hallways from now on.

Stiles. Good to know about the vampire part. I'm fresh out of holy water. If you want pizza, go ask the kitchen elfy dude with the checker bandana thing. That's the one I taught it too.

[He'd gotten eyed while he'd been in the kitchen at first, but the checker-bandana wearing elf had clued in to what he'd wanted and had seemed eager to learn new foods of some of the new guests to the court. He was planning on trying for lasagna next.]

Stiles. That's unusual.

[ but so is saying my dad's hermes and not the fashion brand, either. he's heard worse, seen worse, and been exposed to even more unusual terms and individuals belonging to such names. stiles sounds harmless — unless they're in a pizza cook-off. ]

Will I get a discount and free garlic bread if I mention your name in casual conversation?

[Don't break his brain, Luke. He's having enough trouble wrapping his head around actual fairies kidnapping him to actual fairy land. Bringing gods into it might make him cry.]

You might. I haven't tried the garlic bread here, but I really don't see how anyone could mess that up. It's bread. It's garlic. It's garlic bread.