Open - in your subconscious

[justice_from_above]

Who: Pharah and open
When: October
Where: Aboard the Moira
What: Dreamscapes and Waking Nightmares
Warnings:
N/A will add as necessary


Dream walking
Do you sleep?

Do you dream?

If so, you might have a visitor tonight. On top of her physical changes, wherein she is now as blue add her armor and also accented in gold, Pharah has found herself the recipient of some very interesting powers; dream walking. But as someone who hasn't grown up with them, or had any amount of training with them, they're a little out of control. If she had her say, she would stay out of people's heads, but as it is she finds herself - night after night - stumbling into other dreams, other nightmares. Mostly, she just watches, unable to leave, but if she encounters some nightmares? She will try to nudge them back into something happier (even if it means forgetting what transpired that night).


Sleep walking
Because her nights are now spent wandering through the nether sphere of people's subconscious, Pharah's daytime has become something of a struggle. Especially after those nights where she's pushed influence on a dream, she is exhausted when she wakes up and likely to be found dozing anywhere on the ship. In the mess hall, on the observation deck, working out in the cargo bay; anywhere she might pause for a couple moments too shut her eyes she risks giving in to a quick nap.

Comments

sleep walking

[wallride]

Where did Lúcio get such a big fluffy blanket from? Not important. Why is he currently an alien that looks suspiciously like a frog? Magic, really. Probably.

Lúcio decides that he's not going to bother questioning it. He'll be fine, he always is, and it's not like he's the only one who's changed.

Anyway, he creeps over and carefully drapes the blanket over Pharah, praying to any deity he can think of that she doesn't wake up. It's honestly kinda creepy, he knows it is, but he doesn't want to leave her out on the ship and cold.

[justice_from_above]

Unfortunately for Lúcio she does wake up, or well she at least sits up and looks around groggy, the way a student asleep at a desk might try in an attempt to fool the teacher into thinking they were always awake (and yet in no way fooling anyone).

Pharah blinks, looks at the strange man in front of her, and then rubs her eyes and looks closer. Absently, she reaches up to tug the blanket more securely around her shoulders, too tired to question how it got there.

"I am sorry, I must have dozed off. Can I help you?" For the moment, she doesn't recognize him.

[wallride]

"Yeah, you did. Bit of an odd place, huh?" he says, cocking his head.

"Uh. It's Lúcio. I know I look a little different right now but it's still me, captain."

[justice_from_above]

Pharah chuckles, shaking her head at her own confusion. "Sorry, Lúcio, I should have known better with everyone going through a bit of an identity crisis."

She shifts over to give him room next to her in case he wants to sit down. "Considering some of the other people I have run into, I count myself lucky. How is it being ... you?" She gives him another look, starting to feel a little more awake. She can see it now - he still stands and moves like Lúcio, even if nearly everything else is different.

[wallride]

"Don't worry about it," he laughs. Can't fault her for not being able to read minds, after all.

He hops up next to her, crossing his legs and cocking his head.

"Weird. I have an extra set of eyelids now. You been having a few late nights, captain?"

[justice_from_above]

She takes a closer took at him, and yes; he does have a strange new set of eyelids. They seemed to match everything else about his current form; odd, oddly reptilian, most definitely unsettling, but Pharah does her best not to let it show.

"I haven't been ... sleeping well, no." She scrubs a hand over her face, and leans back. "At the very least I am not in charge of anything that would require to be more conscious, but it is aggravating. Some nights ... I wake up with terrible hangovers, but without the alcohol to cause them." She reaches over and gives his shoulder a little poke. "Be grateful all you got were extra eyelids."

[wallride]

"What's goin' on? Is this sudden?"

The joking is nice, but he's worried about her.

[justice_from_above]

"It came on with the transformations. I have ... these really vivid, lifelike dreams, but they're not anything from my own life; they're with others here, on the ship, or the colony. It is less like I'm dreaming and more I am actually there." She takes in a breath and sighs,

"It's very exhausting."

[wallride]

"Damn. You don't get a choice in any of that?"

It sounds awful. Lúcio gives Pharah's shoulder a sympathetic squeeze.

[justice_from_above]

"No, I don't. I feel there are some elements I could change but I don't have the experience to know how."

She felt like she was whining, since really - if a little sleep deprivation was all she had to deal with, it wasn't really that bad. She could have ended up a wolf, or floating pumpkin head, our any of the other dubious beings she had seen about the ship.

She reaches up to pat Lúcio's hand, thankful for the support. "I will manage. And what of you? How gave your new eyelids thrown your world upside down?"

[wallride]

"Ha! Not quite!"

He shuffles slightly to get a little more comfortable. This is happening they're gonna cuddle it's happening bro

"When did it start? Maybe see if anyone else is having the same problem?"

[justice_from_above]

She's not expecting cuddling, but after a moment of hesitation, she relaxes into it. She's too tired to fight something like this, and admittedly, it feels nice to lean on someone else the way she tries to support everyone else.

"With the transformation. I haven't talked to anyone else with the same ... ailment? Species?" Pharah sighs and shakes her head. "I've mostly been keeping to myself."

[wallride]

"I'm sure there's at least one other person who understands," he says, bopping her arm lightly. "There's always someone out there who can help. If all else fails, maybe you could try sleeping in the dream! Inception it up, girl!"

okay weekend over, sorry for late / Dream walking

[grammascookies]

Thankfully, Ana has passed the point in her life where nightmares were controlling her. But that didn't stop them from being sad, relics of a life that she wished she lived. Ironically, it was a young Fareeha that stuck around in her dreams, the bitter sweet moments that they spent together between missions.

The ones with the big smile on Fareeha's face as she listened to the stories from Reinhardt and Jack: the dumb smirks from Jesse, Gabriel looking like he didn't care, the whole deal. But Ana knowing that she wouldn't let the girl be a part of this.

Good moments but as Ana, older than she had been during these scenes, stood in the back, a sad smile on her face. She was both happy and sad, seeing things as they were but knowing how they would be....

Hello hello!!

[justice_from_above]

It doesn't take Pharah long to figure out where she is, who's dreams she's interrupting today. She finds herself taken back, enraptured by memory. She settles on the ground, cross-legged, and watches. She can't stop watching. These were the happiest years of her life - before the rift formed, before she left these people, this extended family, before it crumpled and fell apart.

She could feel that overlay of Ana's knowledge that this - even back then - would never be, and it leaves a sting in her chest; a dull pain that mutates the joy and wonder she sees in her own young face into something incredibly naive and foolish. So much of her focus, the dreams and desires that had formulated and stuck and were such a large part of her as she is today, started in these moments.

With Ana's reappearance and Pharah's recent conversation with 76 stirring around her thoughts, nothing feels real anymore. There's a definite sadness and distrust that washes off of her in this dreamworld.

[grammascookies]

To Ana, this was still just a dream. Speaking to herself was something that came natural, even has more emotions passed over her. Ones that were not her own but still incredibly important to her. It wasn't something she could place but she wanted to explain herself. Wanted to talk about why Overwatch wasn't the place for Fareeha and why she didn't want her there.

But even in dreams, explanations weren't so easy. Especially with Ana, who still felt at odds with previous decisions in her life.

"I just never wished to see you with blood stained hands. There was always more to heroism than just stories. Sparing you of that was all I wanted."

She talking to herself, really. Rationalizing things that she couldn't voice in the past.

[justice_from_above]

Pharah hears those words, internalizing them and feeling them out and holding them in her head. She understands them, but there's a bit of resistance, a sort of discord against the images she sees of her younger self.

"Then why let me live in this world in the first place? Why did you let me have these dreams if you knew you wouldn't support them?" Confusion edges in, seeing how enraptured she was with Reinhardt and whatever grand tail he was weaving.

[grammascookies]

"Because..."

Her mind formulated quite a few excuses. But that wasn't right. Ana couldn't lie to herself. She might find it rather simple to give others a story but, to herself, it wasn't that easy.

"...I wished to impress you too. Ah, what a conundrum. The want to appear important but to not grant the same in turn. I often wonder what kind of mother I could have been."

Who was she answering to? She didn't honestly know herself. These dreams were frequent. One that was a little more in depth wasn't out of the ordinary in the slightest.

"Was I too focused on the big picture and not enough on what I had with me?"

[justice_from_above]

There's something about that answer that hits her sideways and knocks the wind out of her. The want to appear important but to not grant the same in turn. Her mother had been her world back then, she hadn't needed all these extra treatments and stories to win Fareeha over.

Pharah struggles to breathe, she can feel her face flush and tears threaten. It's suddenly dark and she's very small - she's eight and she's hiding in a cupboard because it's hitting her and it makes her feel small and hurt. She wasn't important. Her dreams, her desires, it didn't matter. She pulls her legs close and buries her head in them and bites her lip, trying so hard not to cry but ultimately failing. The dreamworld heightens the emotion, the sharpness and immediacy of it. It's overwhelming.

[grammascookies]

"Fareeha. You are my world."

Those were the only words she could give. Both to herself and her dream. Of course, with Pharah watching, it was also directed to her. Though it was real. If she didn't have her daughter, Ana really wondered if she would have come out of her depression. No guiding light meant that she would have been stuck, never in a position to help out her friends and, more importantly, Jack.

[justice_from_above]

Those words bring with them a truth, a weight and gravity that sink on Pharah like a blanket. She's wrapped up in it and comforted by it on a deeper level than simple words could give. There's an affirmation to it that she hasn't failed, that she has worth with the most important person in her life.

"You are mine, ummah. I've always wanted to make you proud. It killed me when I thought I had failed." When she had been under the impression that her mother had died, that dream of making her happy had died as well. However much she feels frustrated and betrayed, she's grateful they have another chance.

She's back in the main communal area of some base or another, standing tall and looking around for her mother.

[grammascookies]

Fareeha's words was like a tonic for the soul. Her single eye opened as she took a seat in the commissary of her dream. Were she anyone else, she'd have rumors of appreciation to go along with her feelings. But it was Ana, still determined to remain a bit stalwart, even though her face told the entire story.

[justice_from_above]

Pharah finally finds herself in the same room, and pauses a moment before walking in and taking a seat next to her mother, reaching over to take her hand.

"I want to show you something."

She lets some of her own dreams edge into the room; the subject matter isn't much different from Ana's, although this time it is from Fareeha's point of view. For all her admiration and glowing love for their extended Overwatch family, it increases tenfold when in reference to her mother. Her strength, her independence, her diligence, her playfullness, her determination. For all that everyone one had their hand in the woman Fareeha would eventually become, Ana was the basis and the meter Pharah would measure her self against.

"You have always been my hero."

[grammascookies]

Ana would take more than just her hand. As a mother's privilege, she would wrap her arms around her daughter in an embrace. Right now, she didn't need any words. Only actions and feelings for the two, to express her love and care for her only child. Getting on her bad side, teasing, or simply making life hard for Fareeha were all things she might do. But she would never stop loving her daughter, no matter what.

Dreamwolrd to Action

[justice_from_above]

Pharah returns the embrace. Neither does she feel any more words are needed; the dreamworld pulls the emotions and sets them in the room like a fragrance. It's the first time since her mother's return that Pharah has felt uncomplicated in their relationship and fully able to appreciate the fact that she's alive. These thoughts waft through the room, but eventually the dream ends; it fades to black, elements sifting away like sand on the wind.

When she wakes up, she won't remember the actual details of the dream, but the feelings surrounding it (as well as a hangover-level headache). She stops by the galley for a hearty breakfast, then prepares two cups of tea and makes her way to her mother's room. She pauses at the door; she still feels all of the warmth and understanding and acceptance from the dream. She shifts the both tea mugs into one hand and knocks on the door.