it was a murder, but not a crime. [completed]

[eaglestone.livejournal.com]

Character(s): Daniel Hall, the Corinthian.
Content: In which dreams subdue nightmares... and then some.
Setting: Wandering through the Niflheim area.
Time: Mid-afternoon. After the conversation with Rin, but before running into Kadaj and Ai.
Warnings: None really.

This was decidedly awkward.

The Corinthian risked a sideways glance at the Dream King. At Dream. At Daniel. He wasn't sure what name, exactly, to use. It seemed like he should use 'Dream' as that was who it was... but the other D names always got tangled on his tongue when he moved to speak. His hands were shoved deep into his pockets.

He was still angry, at being caught. He wondered what details Daniel knew about his time in Paixao. How much of it he would be questioned on. Part of him was pissed because he wanted to be able to say 'that's none of your business'.

The Corinthian also hated how much more comfortable he felt in his strange place with Dream here.


Meanwhile Daniel had tuned him out, though not by choice. After he left Rin, he had planned to find a place where they could talk - where, unfortunately, Corinthian would have to give a detailed account of what he had been doing in Paixao - but certain... events... forced him to change his plans.

Delirium was there. He didn't know where, but she was in the city, and she was lost. As Daniel replied to her over his journal he grew increasingly despondent and eventually started to ignore his nightmare completely, save for one instance in which he had to keep him from asking a man over the journals about his red eyes. Other than that, his priority was his sister.

His searching over for the time being, Daniel shut his journal with a soft and dissatisfying click. He looked... tired.

And that was when he finally gave Corinthian his attention. "I believe an... explanation is in order," he said, his voice strangely lacking in authority. He knew Corinthian hadn't been up to any good... and he also knew that he didn't even know half of it.


He had preferred it when Daniel had been absorbed by the search for his sister, honestly. The Lady Delirium was often elusive in nature, and he wasn't surprised that it was hard to find her. If anything, she would only show herself when she either wanted to be found, or it was absolutely necessary that she be found. Though the Corinthian had met her only briefly, every time he did it was disorienting.

"...you don't already know?"

The comment is more biting that it should be. The Corinthian turns his face away from Daniel. He is reminded too much of his older self who thought it wise to challenge Dream (then, Morpheus) to a fight. The anger he feels at his creator is not just his alone. It is unsettling to share present day anger with echoes from a past self he cannot quite control. Or doesn't quite wish to.

The implication of his comment is, of course, that Daniel is omniscient. That somehow he knows everything, like the tales about Yahweh (which, the Corinthian knows for a fact is hardly all-knowing in all spheres of knowledge). He would rather Daniel accuse him, then to actually admit to his wrong doings.


Daniel's jaw clenched, only for a second.

"No. No, I do not."

He studied the Corinthian carefully. Curiously. It was quite obvious that he had done something, but what that 'something' was - and how much of that 'something' he had done - was a mystery to the Dream King. His older sister's comment on his journal confirmed his suspicions, but at the same time, it wasn't enough for him to blindly accuse him of anything. Idly, he wondered if the Corinthian wanted him to.

"Given the circumstances, I would like to think that I am being rather lenient with you, Corinthian," he said, quietly. Stern, but not scolding. "I would rather hear it from you than from... anyone else."

Anyone else, of course, being his victims. Assuming there were any, and that they lived to tell their tale.


Lenient? He bit back an immediate response to that. The first surge of anger showing on his face in a scowl. It was easy for Dream to say, to accuse him of wrong doings. So easy to pin blame on desires. The Corinthian wondered, if Dream was such a strict ruler, why he had bothered to give his creations desires to begin with.

Underneath that anger was guilt. He knew he shouldn't have. He knew it had been wrong to tempt the boy, to lead him to the alley and to pry out his eyes with his knife and fingers. He felt guilty because he had enjoyed breaking the boy's skull open to dig out the eyeballs, enjoyed piercing his palette with his knife.

"...your oldest sister didn't tell you?" The Corinthian is also curious. Lady Death would know, as she knew everyone who the Corinthian ripped apart to fulfill his desires. He looked away from Daniel again, not trusting his face, or his sunglasses, to hide his emotions.


"She too thought it best for me to ask you directly." In truth, he almost dreaded having to hear Corinthian's side of the story. Daniel knew he had to hear it eventually, to know what he had been doing without anyone to restrain him, but... he wanted to think he could expect better. Perhaps it was foolish of him, when such things were simply second nature to the nightmare.

"Granted, this is not... entirely your fault," he went on to say, choosing his words carefully. "This world pulls others into it indiscriminately; you had little control of the mater, in that aspect."

There was a long pause, and it was Daniel's turn to look away. His face was blank, but his voice alone was enough to convey his shame.

"Nor did I."


That was enough to pull the nightmare's attention, and gaze, back to Daniel. It was not by choice, then, that Daniel had come here. Perhaps, not choice of Lady Death or Lady Delirium either. Which was more troubling than the concept of punishment (though, the concept of punishment was something that weighed a great deal more on his conscience).

"...you didn't mean to come here..." The Corinthian restated, finding it hard to believe himself. Of course, imprisonment was possible, as it had been for Morpheus. This was not a glass bubble (though its dorm shape bore resemblance to that construct) and it didn't feel like a magus spell.

This was troubling. The admission that he did not mean to come here almost guilt tripped the Corinthian into fully admitting his 'crime'. He liked to think himself stronger than someone who submitted to his whims.


"I did not," he confirmed.

It only made him feel worse. He was in no position now to punish the Corinthian, especially not after having confessed to randomly finding himself in this world. Whether he had any say in the issue or not, Daniel thought it shameful that he of all people had been pulled into another world against his will. He was setting a poor example already.

"An explanation, Corinthian." He had digressed, but only for a little while. Daniel wasn't going to forget that he was responsible for the Corinthian's actions, and that he was also responsible for punishing him because of said actions. "I would rather not have to ask my sister for one instead."


Right, back to that again.

"...tch," The Corinthian muttered, and ran a hand through his hair. This was not what he wanted to do. Not at all. He found something else to look at, but his entire posture was abrasive. Much like a teenage son caught smoking. He was leaning away from Dream, his steps were heavier and his jaw tight.

"Do you understand pleasure?" He turned it into an argument, spinning on his heel to fully face Dream. If he couldn't avoice it, he might as well use it as a weapon. "Satisfaction? Knowing that you have something and it is yours alone? I possessed him, emotions and then his eyes. They were beautiful." He bit off every word, angrily, and waited for Dream's inevitable anger as well.


Daniel maintained composure during it all. When Corinthian decided to attack him he stood perfectly still, his head high, eyes blinking only every so often. He knew that, in the Corinthian's mind, his actions were completely justified. But... "Our definitions of pleasure and satisfaction differ, Corinthian," he replied, authority finding a place in his voice once again.

Was he angry? Perhaps. He didn't like how the nightmare had turned his confession into an attack, as if he was really the one to blame in all of this. A fraction of him tried to make sense of it, to reassure himself that Corinthian was doing this in an attempt to evade punishment. So would he? Hardly. Daniel had to penalize him in some form. It was his duty, and his obligation.

"You lead me to believe that you possessed him..." Whoever he was. Daniel paused, and wondered if it was someone from another world. "...at his own expense."

He waited. Asked himself if the words would sink in. If they would have any effect.

"Do you deny it?"


"I killed him, if that's what you want to ask," The Corinthian replied. Almost nicely, and he leaned away from Dream a little. There was an old smile on his face, he knew this one well. A sadist's smile which he could indulge in here, and there. "I crack his skull open and fished out his eyes."

Now, to wait. Inside he was jittery, nervous, guilty, angry at Dream and angry at himself. He didn't have to be like this. He could have pleaded for forgiveness, or stated his deed in some way which didn't sound so ... self indulgent. But that wasn't in his nature, and who knew his nature better than the creator of it?

The Corinthian stayed still, stiff, face turned towards Dream, but there was a clear rift between them. His right hand was curled into a fist, but he would never strike at Daniel. Never.


If Corinthian wanted a reaction, he got one. Daniel visibly winced as he described what he had done to the boy, all the while willing himself to keep his eyes open. He was going to hold his gaze, no matter what it took.

He saw the clenched fist, but made nothing of it. Corinthian may not know better than to submit to his whims, but he did know better than to strike his own master. Daniel gave him credit for that.

"Was he the only one?" he asked, after another moment of silence. There was a chance that he was not; Daniel knew he had been threatening people, but how often did he follow through on these threats?


The Corinthian resisted the urge to sneer and say 'no, of course not.' He had been a serial killer, one of the best. No. No. His other self had been a serial killer, and he hated his other self. His predecessor who left the Dreaming (and left Dream) and wandered the Waking world for victims. A person he could never escape.

"....yes," The response was far weaker than he wanted it to be. He wanted it to be challenging, like the rest of his words, and tossed in Dream's face. Instead it fell short, being soft, reluctant.


Daniel nodded and, after hearing his defeated reply, finally allowed his eyes to blink. He had won this round, although he felt anything but triumphant in the matter.

Of course, he couldn't let him get away with murder. He had to punish him in some form... but how? What could he do here, in Paixao? Daniel turned away briefly to consider it, although he knew he would not reach a decision immediately. The matter required much more thought than he had time for here, in this world. And for a man who had all the time in every world, knowing that made him rather uncomfortable.

"I would not have you... dismantled for your behavior. Not here," he said, taking a few carefully placed steps forward. "As for what I will do, I am afraid that will have to wait. Finding a way out of this world naturally takes precedence over the matter."

He gave him a stern look then. "But your actions will not go ignored for long, Corinthian. Remember that."


Dismantled. How callous.

The nightmare wondered, briefly in the time he allowed himself to care about it, whether or not Daniel ever thought of him as something other than a tool for Dreamers. Was he more than just a mirror, or like with all tools was he so easily replaced when it acquired a fracture or imperfection. That train of thought was too... uncomfortable (or close to the truth) and he let it go as soon as it entered his head. This did not quell the chill that had settled over him.

Dismantled. It was an easy word to say, and it was an easy thing for Dream to do. The Corinthian remembered (through someone eles's memory) the dismantling. It was... he assumed it was not as abrupt as death, but he had never felt death either so the comparison was invalid.

"I would hate to inconvenience you," The nightmare replied, voice rough because he couldn't decide if he was angry again, or simply depressed over the conversation. Anger was easier to deal with, but it felt false in this situation.


For a while, Daniel didn't have anything to say to that. He looked down at the journal in his hands, ran a thumb along the edges, and wondered if his youngest sister was waiting for him. Aside from denying that he was her brother Dream, she seemed perfectly content with... whoever she had met in the city. He trusted that they took good care of her, although he couldn't leave her with them for long. Not with their sanity at stake.

"I will accept full responsibility for your actions here, Corinthian," he replied at last. His face had settled back into a comfortably blank expression, and his voice didn't dare betray him. His emotions were masked perfectly.

He had to, after all. He had to shoulder the blame. If the Corinthian was not going to feel any remorse for his actions, he would feel it for him. It was... his duty. Of course.

Daniel would've slipped back into despondency then. Instead, he asked: "How long have you been here?"

It was a simple question, and didn't sound the least bit suspicious. He trusted the nightmare would come clean if he had done anything else during his time there.


For some reason that deflated the Corinthian anymore. He found himself settling into an almost self-pitying morose mode. It was nice to know that he was simply a 'thing' of the movement. Even his own thoughts had turned sarcastic.

"...a week...? Maybe more," he wasn't exactly sure, it wasn't as if he was purposefully being evasive here. The nightmare had had enough games, and since Daniel seemed so intent on confirming all of his insecurities it didn't seem worth the energy to get angry.

Which didn't help the anger that was still there. Just a thread of it, but enough to make him feel resentful towards Daniel. I will accept full responsibility of your actions here. As if he were an errant child who just needed to be put back into the playpen. As if he couldn't take responsibility for his own actions.



He nodded his head to show that he had been listening... and that was it.

It was then that he fell silent, having opened his journal once again to check if there were any updates on the 'delirious front.' And, while Daniel knew not to expect too much, he still felt disappointed whenever he checked and found nothing. He thought he had been on the right track when he asked Kadaj where his brother might be, but that proved to be the end of the line for him: he hadn't been able to get ahold of his brother at all. It hadn't even been a day since he picked up on this new lead, and already he felt like it had been an eternity. He had to find her. She should not be on her own.

After a long pause (during which he stared at the screen and contemplated certain things), Daniel suppressed a sigh and closed the journal once again. If no developments were made soon, he would search for her on foot.


The Corinthian slowly would slide his gaze back to Daniel, and then away. Then back again, as if trying to figure out what to say exactly. It was clear that Daniel was thinking about something else.

"...She'll be okay," He forced out, finally. Having decided that Daniel was still thinking about Delirium. She had seemed fairly put together the last time he had encountered her. Not necessarily lucid, but ... grounded.


The words brought Daniel out of his thoughts and back into the real world. (Rather, as real a world as Paixao could possibly be. And who can say what reality was for a man that dealt in dreams?) He hadn't expected the Corinthian to say anything to him after their conversation, much less anything comforting... but he appreciated it, all the same.

It didn't calm him down any; Daniel simply wouldn't let it go until she was found. But although it sounded like the Corinthian had to choke out each syllable, so reluctant and forced, he could tell that the words were well-meant. The Dream King nodded his head and looked away.

"Let us hope so."


Familial concern. It was kind of nice, the Corinthian mused on that. The connections between people, and caring. The Corinthian was sorely lacking in that department. He wasn't sure what it was exactly that he was lacking. There was a ... gap in his ... understanding? It wasn't something he had considered before.

He didn't like it. With a tense inhaled breath he turned a corner sharply. He didn't even know where they were going, but he didn't want to just continue walking in a straight line. Silently. With this weird sort of introspection going on in his head.


Another moment of silence. And then...

"She does not know who I am."

It was Daniel's turn to start a conversation. (Conversations did not last long with him, unfortunately.) He stopped and looked up at the sky - at the elaborately painted dome, and at the sun, which was still smiling - then down at his hands, folded neatly in front of him. The emotion behind those words was difficult to detect. Even a close look at his face would turn up nothing.

But... well, perhaps it hurt. The feeling that you weren't a part of your own family. There were times when he wondered what a family was, what a family was supposed to mean to him. Daniel had not chosen his current family; it was all so sudden. Before he knew it, he was Dream of the Endless.

And his youngest sibling didn't even know him.

"Nor does she consider me her brother. She wants my predecessor back."

He picked up his pace again and continued to walk.


...well, he supposed that would be a blow to someone. Then again, the Corinthian hadn't ever been put in that situation before. To have someone he cared about turn on him. Because he didn't care, he told himself quite frequently.

"...ah..." What was he supposed to say to that? There weren't any reassuring words, since ... Daniel and Morpheus were not the same person. It was quite clear in their very appearance, much less their personality and history. The Corinthian was glad it was Daniel and not Morpheus who had appeared in Paixao.


"I fear what may happen when I find her." When. Not if . He chose his words carefully and meant every single one of them. He was going to find her, without fail. But what would happen when he did? "I fear for her, and... for us."

Delirium was even less stable when she was angry. And, while Daniel had yet to fully incur her wrath in his time (granted they were not the closest of siblings), he imagined that her reaction to him would be different now, since she came from the past. Idly, he wondered what it would have been like had Delight come to Paixao instead of Delirium. He had heard of the Endless' former self, and often tried to imagine what she must have been like.

How fragile such a thing as delight must be. How fleeting it is. Daniel looked behind him to make sure the Corinthian was close by, but he didn't slow down.


"...you're her older brother, aren't you?" From anyone else that might have been a comforting question. From the Corinthian it was another verbal attack. Questioning moreso the nature of the Endless and their sibling relationships that reassuring Daniel that he would be a natural brother.

The nightmare ... might have been jealous. He had no idea, however, having never felt this sort of jealousy before. He idly considered 'making a break for it', just to see what would happen; also, with Daniel so close it was much harder to focus. The Corinthian found his thoughts more conflciting with his creator near.


Daniel closed his eyes and looked away. "So I thought."

And so he still thought. He was, for all intents and purposes, Delirium's brother. As much as he was anyone else's brother when it came to the Endless. He had met very few of his siblings in his time and expected that he would get on well with each of them... but he hadn't quite seen this coming. What if Desire (whom his older sister claimed was also in Paixao) came from the past too? How could he tell either of his siblings that the Dream they knew was dead?

He felt unwelcome, uninvited. He felt like an outsider. An intruder.

Silence reigned from then on. Daniel figured the least he could do was find out where she was. After that, he could decide whether he or his sister was best suited to go get her.