hadriel_logs | Event Log: Dreamwalker

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Event Log: Dreamwalker

Who: Everyone!
What: The Dreamwalker event
Where: In your comfy bed and your sleepy head.
When: May 16th-26th
Warnings: Good dreams, weird dreams, bad dreams, straight-up nightmares. Please remember to tag for warnings in the header if things are going to be bad!

Have you been having trouble getting a good night's sleep? Tossing and turning, unable to rest those tired eyes? Or maybe you don't sleep at all, and never have. Not to worry! For a little while, you'll have no trouble at all falling asleep - in fact, as night falls, you'll find yourself overwhelmed with exhaustion whether you want to sleep or not. Lay down and rest your weary head, friends. Everyone could use a little extra sleep.

But what will your dreams bring? Something happy, images of a perfect day? Something hopeful, something you've wanted for a long time? Maybe you'll dream of anger, of the face of your worst enemy. Or maybe - just maybe - you'll have a horrific nightmare, and wake screaming, covered in cold sweat.

Not before others have time to see it, though. As you sleep, as you dream, the other residents of Hadriel, friends and enemies and people you've only met once, might find their way into your dreams. Or you might find your way into theirs - and then have to deal with someone's else's nightmares, or hopes, or anger. For the next ten nights, you'll find yourself either a host or a visitor, and no matter how you try you won't be able to stay awake once night falls.

Sweet dreams, Hadriel. Don't let the asshole fear gods bite.

► This log covers May 16th-26th.
► Feel free to make your own logs as well!
► Please tag headers of threads with content warnings where they apply
► Please put your character's name and open/closed in the subject line of your starters!
► You can't die in the dreams, but if you somehow manage to trip and fall and kill yourself getting out of bed, please report it on the death post.

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[Oh, for fuck's sake. High school again? It's been a good long while since Nick's had a nightmare about being back in high school. But this school isn't the familiar one she actually attended - this is some fancy-ass private school, from the looks of it (the uniforms are a dead giveaway), and she looks entirely out of place in her worn boots and jeans and thrift store jacket.

The whispering, though - that's different, too. And creepy. Something about weapons, which is clearly never an ominous thing, right? This whole scene gives fills her with apprehension, like she's waiting for disaster to strike at any moment.

Then she sees Ronan, and - well, it doesn't entirely make sense, but it's not so confusing anymore, either.]

Fuck if I know. I got done with high school bullshit years ago.

[Ronan has to make a few quick calculations here. The only person who had ever been in his dreams before like this is Adam, and that had been because of Cabeswater. This- whatever this is- is something new. Not influenced by the magical forest that they're all tied to, but rather, something to do with the city they live in now.

That's what makes the most sense. Nick wouldn't have anything to do with Cabeswater, and Ronan has never really had any sort of desire to dream her up- though he has to admit, the contrast of the boots and raggedy clothes to the prim and proper Aglionby is a little entertaining. Or at least, it would be, if the situation itself weren't so borderline-fearful.

He moves closer to her, whispering between his teeth, as if the place around them could somehow hear him if he spoke normally.]

This is my dream. You can't-

[He's cut off by a loud crack of the floor splintering further, opening into mottled ground, rotten grass and leaves springing up through the cracks. 'Greywaren,' the walls whisper, 'tu es telum'.

Ronan curls his lip.]

You can't be here.

Well, it's not like I fucking asked to be here, is it?

[Nick takes no care to keep her voice down. She couldn't stand being in high school when it was required, so there's no way she'd go back voluntarily. But she doesn't know how she got here, can't remember driving or being driven, she just appeared, and that should bother her more than it does.

Maybe she's more concerned about the building's foundation cracking open at the moment, watching with wide, disbelieving eyes.]

What's that it's saying?

[He doesn't fucking know whether or not she did- it's not like this sort of thing happens often. Ronan still isn't entirely sure that Nick is even real, though he doubts that there would be any reason for his subconscious to dream her up. Plus, she's just... different than everything else here, concrete and firm amidst a malleable backdrop.

No, he's almost positive that she's real. What he can't quite understand yet is why her, of all people. Ronan supposes that answers will come in time, but it doesn't help them right now, when fingers of ivy are starting to grow up between the metal hinges of the lockers and reach toward the ceiling.

Ronan closes his eyes and tries to keep it together. Losing control is the easiest way for the dream to slip away from him, to become something worse than it already is. He can't be afraid. He can't be anxious.]

Latin, [he explains dryly, only just now realizing that the two of them are the only people in his hallway. Ronan closes his eyes for a moment and forces a deep breath.] Shit about me.

[The light above them cracks as a branch forces its way through the ceiling. Ronan's jaw goes tight, before leveling his gaze back toward Nick. She doesn't deserve this- she's a bitch and she can be a thorn in his side, but she doesn't deserve to be here when it turns.

Fuck.]

We have to run.

Well, aren't you a special fucking snowflake.

[It's unnerving, seeing the structure disintegrate so rapidly in front of her eyes, overtaken by foliage. This isn't normal, this shouldn't be happening, and yet all she can do is stare, horrified, as the transformation unfolds.]

Run? Where?

[Ronan ignores the first half of that in favor of searching for a way out. The only thing he can think of is continuing to run down the hallway as it transforms and branches out, try to stay in the industrial area as it's being quickly overrun by the forest.

He glances behind them both, watching as the door to one of the classrooms eases open, held by a black-clawed hand. Not a good sign.]

Away from here.

[He moves then, starting to push faster down the hallway as the creature exits the room and slides into the hall proper. It looks like it's doused in gasoline, shiny and still somehow sharp in the beak and claws. There are feathers, but they seem to be drenched in the inky darkness, and all in all, the creature is the size of a man, thin and foreboding with no soft edges to speak of.]

It's Cabeswater, [Ronan whispers, barely audible as he turns back to look at it,] a night horror. I thought- fuck.

[No time for that now.]

Go!

[There are any number of questions Nick could ask right now: What's Cabeswater? or What does it want? There's no need to ask what a night terror is, though, because that's obvious enough, and anyway, Nick isn't stupid, despite what she's been told most of her life. She also doesn't need much prompting from Ronan to take off running at full speed, following his lead. He seems to have some sense of this place, and she's running entirely blind.]

[It's fast. Faster than they can run, and Ronan rounds a corner quickly, before stopping short. Instead of a decrepit hallway, they've turned into a full forest and when he turns back, it's like the school was never there in the first place.

A Greywaren is a weapon of war.

Ronan breathes in shaky and looks frantically around them as he tries to figure a way out. The horrors know these woods better than he does, but if he could call up something else, something strong enough to fight them- well, they might have a shot. He needs time, though, it's hard to focus here.]

Can you fight? Be the doll thing? I need to- just stall it for a second, okay?

Yeah ... yeah, I can do that.

[No argument about being called the doll thing - it's not important at the moment. What is important is that they both survive this; in the next instant, she's changed, glass eyes open and alert for the first sign of attack.]

[Ronan has seen the change before, but seeing it up close when she's not about to attack him makes it different somehow, like the altering of Nick's physical form is something magical that he's never fully appreciated until he needed it.

The night horror descends on her a moment later, shrieking as it reaches out to rake its claws across her front. Ronan pulls away and tries to busy himself with- something that can fight this thing.

It'll take him a moment or two though, during which the night horror will do everything it can to rip Nick to shreds.]

[She's much harder to kill like this; the creature's claws shred the front of her dress, but only scrape against the porcelain her skin's become with a shrill, unpleasant noise. Coming in this close is a bad strategic move on its part, too - the relative lack of distance makes it easy for Nick to fire a bolt of black energy from each of her hands without really having to aim.]

[Ronan tries not to let himself be distracted by the fight as the night horror is struck by the energy bolt, instead pressing his hands against his head and crouching down, trying to will the white one to show up- but he's afraid, moreso than he should be, and Ronan doesn't quite know why.

One of the explanations is clear, of course. There's a monster and it wants to kill them- but he's been through that before, many times over. He should be able to focus. He should be able to think-

-the night horror screeches in pain and snaps down to try and bite at her porcelain neck with a sharp beak, claws scraping at her hardened doll skin. The sound of the shriek is piercing to Ronan's ears, and when his eyes finally snap open again, the white monster comes to slam into the dark one, sending them both careening off to the side in a spray of blood and feathers. Success- sort of.]

Come on, we have to go!

[The white one isn't as strong as it should be. It won't last long, and already, Ronan is starting to see flickers in the shadows, creeping movement of more, trying to get a good angle to surround them with.]

[Nick doesn't have to be told twice - the instant she hears Ronan's voice, she back in Facade and ready to run. The change leaves her vulnerable to attack, but it's necessary if she wants to move any faster than the slow, lumbering gait the Morphus form provides.]

What was that?

[She can ask questions and run at the same time. She's talented like that.]

[He's not a fan of being asked questions and he shoots her a look to try to convey that, but they're also running and don't have much time here for an argument. Nick is owed some kind of explanation after being trapped in his head like this, he supposes.]

-night horror. Both of them.

[That's what he calls them anyway. The shadows are starting to reform, and Ronan bites his lip before looking back at Nick again.]

I don't think we're getting out of this. Can you wake up?

Wake up? Is this - am I dreaming?

[It's hard to tell; dreams seem perfectly realistic when you're in them.]

How do you make yourself wake up from a dream? I haven't ever done that before.

[Ronan rolls his eyes, only exasperated right now because it's so urgent. The horrors shriek behind them and he reaches for Nick's shoulder to stop her from running just for a moment because they have to focus now.]

Jesus, alright- listen to me.

[He takes a deep breath, fingers digging into her shoulder.]

Focus on your body. You feel it, right? Laying down, or where the fuck ever you were? You're not looking at me right now- your eyes are closed. Try to really lift your arm- you can't. Feel it?

[Something about this coaching is awfully familiar. Nick remembers, in Stanley Park: Please, mon choux, take long breaths and look at me. I want you to picture your being the way it was, an hour ago, and to please focus on one part of your body or another. Just like then, she closes her eyes and concentrates - on what her hands look like, mixing a drink, textbook diagrams of bones and muscle, what it felt like to burn her fingers on the steam wand of the espresso machine at the coffee shop where she used to work. She breathes in, and out, and focuses on the heaviness of her limbs, the shape of the bed underneath her -

And then she's awake and gasping for breath in the dark of her empty house in Hadriel.]

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Event Log: Dreamwalker

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