It's moving. Flickering. Changing, shifting in a way that reminds Tom of the Dark Place. It's less the act itself but more the feeling as someone shapes a shared vision, a shared dream. Tom's smile is wide, and when he sees the box, takes in her stance, her voice, he moves deftly behind her, placing both hands on her shoulders and leaning in.

Here it is. A catalyst. A beautiful start to a journey he's unsure of where the destination leads, but it's there. Randvi has always been so measured, surely, this will do it? He squeezes her shoulders, leaning in to lower his voice to a whisper, gently pulling the strings.

"Does it anger you? Not catching it, doing nothing? A mistake that cost you much, yes?"

Tom's soft smile has turned to something far more sinister, the hand on Randvi's shoulder a little too tight. This is it, he thinks, and feels the rush of exhilaration. Randvi is beginning to see the parts she doesn't like. To mere her other selves.

Randvi is not Alan--not an artist in that sense, but someone who ebbs and flows like the tide and is just as unrelenting. Tom breathes in, readying himself, knowing he has to be careful. He respects Randvi enough for that--there's no point in pushing someone if they can't bounce back.

"Let it out," he encourages. He keeps his voice soft but his words and tone are firm, subconscious instruction more than a simple suggestion. "I'll pull you right back if you need it." A beat. "You won't."

The water continues to flow while the battle rages on, shimmering in the moonlight, showing Randvi's reflection. Tom has a pebble in his free hand. How he got it, where he picked it up, those are all unimportant to the narrative he's trying to sow, logic working in a way that he's very good at, whispering what he's doing in Randvi's ear so she'll pick up on it in her altered state. When he throws that pebble into the river, the ripples warping her reflection.

"You're changing into her anyway."

"The Gods are testing you, Viikinki." Tom's mouth is dry with anticipation--they're getting somewhere. Where he's not sure, the destination he has no clue about, and that's exciting in and of itself. This is exactly what he's craved--peeling back layers, looking into someone else's mind.

If he can't make a film, he can try to get inside someone's head.

"You can still break out."

There. There it is, the moment Tom has been waiting for--Randvi's unconsciously been circling it, but it comes to light now just as the light from the sky shimmers and reflects off of the water. She's not looking at the lake herself, Tom thinks--it's an internalization, one that makes pulse thrum with excitement. He mistakes the beating of his heart with war drums, the trip and the dream sequence and the realization all starting to mingle and come to a head.

"Oh, no." He moves his hands up, running up and down the other's arms in a comforting manner, soft and gentle.

"You will. You are. You just need to dive in." Tom is here to provide just that.

Hands gripping Randvi's shoulders tighter, he proceeds to push the other as hard as he can into that beautiful, captivating water.

"You're learning."

They're floating now, just the two of them: the dark of the ocean, despite it being a small pond. Where the lack of light should be intimidating, Tom finds it easy and comforting, light a blanket with some weight to it.

Tom smiles softly, reaches up to touch her face. They're kindred spirits, he thinks--the least he can do is get her to understand. Randvi, in turn, will--and is--teaching him so, so much.

"This is yours, you know. This little pocket. You can control it--sieze what you haven't, take what you can't. Make your own."