hadriel_logs | Event Log: Dreamwalker

Entry tags:

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[Last night's experiment proved a failure. Turns out that even if you get blackout drunk, the gods are clever or persistent enough to slip through and give you bad dreams. Maketh rubs her face as she ducks into the bar. All but one of her dreams have been bad so far, the kind of nightmare that sends her into screaming fits when she wakes, battling with her sheets. This morning is no different, except that she's woken up with shaking hands and possibly the worst hangover of her life.

That, more than anything else, has thrown her. Maketh doesn't get hungover, at least not the kind that slows her down. She pushes it away and goes back to her work, that's how it's done.

Not today, apparently. She rubs her face again, knowing that she's a mess and too tired to change that. Though she's in uniform, her eyes are ringed with dark, bruise-like circles, and she can't quite muster the effort to stand up straight.

Today is not a good day. She wants coffee. Badly.

Apparently someone else has the same idea. Maketh blinks, standing up straighter.] Chris.

[She's unsure if he wants to speak with her after -- well. Everything.]

[There's only so much caffeine can really do, after a certain point.

On one hand, Chris is used to his sleep schedule being completely screwed up; it's relatively normal for a college student to begin with, and then with everything that happened at home and his time here his sleeping hours have been all over the place for a long time now. But normally it alternates; a few nights of insomnia or being startled awake by nightmares, then a day of being dead asleep to catch up. This week, though, the event has thrown everything off, and he's really starting to feel it.

He's been at the bar since the early hours, both for his own coffee needs and for making sure everyone else who might need their fix can get it as well; when Maketh enters he's taking a break, sitting at the bar with his chin on his arm, idly swirling his somewhat more alcoholic than usual drink.

But he looks up when Maketh speaks, turning his attention toward her and offering a weak smile.]

Hey. I'm guessing you're here for coffee.

[Nothing of what happened in the dreams they shared were her fault, or at least not any more than they were his. He doesn't have any problem seeing her, and in fact it's a little reassuring even though he logically knew everything had just been dreams.]

You'd be correct in that. [The smile she gives him is weak, but it's there. Everything feels worn down today, colors muted, everything dulled except for the pounding in her head. Maketh had gotten some water right after she woke up and that helped a little, but now she needs something stronger. Part of her - a large part - wants to go straight back to the whiskey, but that's not wise. She has work to do, despite everything, and it can't be done unless she's sober. Maketh takes a seat at the bar, sighing.] I doubt I'm the only one. Are you -- alright?

[He gets to his feet, moving toward the coffee cart; he hasn't actually seen Maketh in person since the assassin event but in between that time and now he's been healed--thanks Carlisle--and not only can walk but is totally back to normal, even the old injury from home gone.

He starts up espresso making, not entirely sure what kind of coffee Maketh wants but figuring the stronger the better, then turns his gaze back toward her again.]

Yeah, it's been uh... Pretty busy in here.

[Fortunately they have enough for everyone.

He sighs a little at the question, not at Maketh specifically but just the whole situation.]

I'm... Yeah. I'm okay. This is uh... Pretty normal, so...

[Aside from the ending up in other peoples' dreams part, anyway. As stressful as this all is he vastly prefers it to the other things Fear could've done to them.]

Are you?

[It's both about the dreams and about her injury; she looks a lot better, but of course her uniform makes it impossible to tell for sure.]

[It's become expected, that's true. Maketh exhales slowly, propping her chin up on her hand. Most of her just wants to go back to sleep, but she's too jumpy for that, her mind spinning off in too many different directions.] I'll live.

[She's pleased to notice his limp is gone. Carlisle is talented in that regard.]

I, ah...I wanted to apologize. For what you saw.

[Maketh lowers her eyes.] It wasn't a good dream.

[He shakes his head at her apology, trying to offer another small smile to reassure her though it comes out more sad than calming.]

There's um... There's nothing to apologize for. It's not your fault what you dream about.

[He hesitates a moment, not sure if he should ask, but they know each other well enough at this point that he thinks it's okay to at least venture the question.]

Was that... Did it really happen?

[Not exactly how it went down since of course Chris wouldn't have been there, but he wonders if the base of it was real just like the based of his own nightmare that they'd shared had been.]

[What a strange place this is, where such an apology might be said and meant. Before this, nightmares had been a private affair. Not in Hadriel, though. Not anymore.

Maketh exhales slowly.] A version of it. I didn't -- it's confusing. There was a test. I'm still not sure if I actually did it, or if it was just a simulation. I suppose that's the point.

[She's quiet then. She's not proud of what she did in that room. She's spent years trying to forget it.]

There was a man. I never knew what he did, but I was told to shoot him, and I did. But I hesitated, and that was why -- that was why I was never given an infantry command. Too soft.

[He's quiet, gaze flickering to the floor and feeling kind of guilty for asking, because that's... Horrible. And he knows better than most that it doesn't matter if it was a simulation or not, because what matters is that it was real to her when she was taking part in it.]

I'm sorry. That you um... Had to go through that.

[He really means it.]

[Maketh rubs at her eyes with a sigh. It was her choice, in the end. And unlike the nightmare, there was a choice. She could have walked away, but chose not to. She has to live with that.] My parents died while I was at the Academy. My mother never forgave me for joining. She was...well. She was set in her ways. But kind, in her way. You might have liked her.

[The espresso is done and he pours it into a mug for her, handing it over and managing another more genuine smile.]

What was her name?

[Oh stars, coffee. Maketh accepts it as eagerly as she can in her current state. Lack of proper sleep has not been kind to her. She manages a smile nonetheless.] Maize.

[She inhales the steam, sighing.]

You don't talk about your parents very much.

[It's a strangely... Normal name, which is slightly unexpected considering how many places the people here come from, but it's neat.

Her question earns a shrug and a glance away, distracting himself with setting up more coffee to brew while he answers.]

They're um... Both really nice. I'm kind of spoiled? I uh, lived with them until I left for college, and school's not that far away, so... This is the longest I've ever not seen them, by far.

[Which is why he doesn't talk about them much. He's really close with his parents and after going through something as traumatic as what happened at home he'd just really wanted to see them, and then he'd ended up here and now it's been about six months. And missing his parents so much seems like a really selfish thing when so many people here don't have parents at all, so he just tries to avoid thinking about them entirely.]

[Maketh closes her hands around her mug, letting the warmth seep in. It feels good and it's something to focus on. She doesn't remember her parents very well. A consequence of the choices she made. They were good people, though. Maketh is sure of that, if nothing else.] They must miss you. I hope...I hope you get the chance to see them again soon.

Yeah. They um... They have to be really worried.

[That's also something he's trying not to think about; has he been missing for six months at home? He doesn't know how it works, and he can't do anything about that.

He steps back over to the bar, picking up his Irish coffee and taking another drink of it--it's getting cold and definitely needs the new coffee he's brewing--and then hops up on the bar instead of sitting on the stool simply because he can.]

But uh... On a less depressing topic, you look a lot better than last time I saw you.

[Which was... Here at this bar, actually, which is showing no evidence at all of what happened in it.]

[They must. Maketh has learned a little of what it's like to care for others since coming to Hadriel. She even loves people here, all of them in different ways. Henry called her sister, took her hand in his and swore that he would stand with her to the end. She hasn't yet found the words for what she has with Lilith other than possibility. And with Newt--

He called her mother, once.

So Maketh supposes she can understand just a little of what it feels like to love a child. And to lose one, to not know for so long?

It must hurt like death.

She manages a smile nonetheless.] It's going to scar, but not much more than that. Carlisle knows his craft. And your knee is better, I see.

That's... Really good.

[Really, really good. That whole thing had been horrific, and that the worst Maketh might have from it is a scar is incredible news.

He nods at her last comment, swinging his legs a little to punctuate it.]

Yeah. Carlisle's pretty awesome.

[Seems like they both owe him. Though if Maketh also was healed by him, Chris has to ask--]

Did he uh... Did he hack up a bunch of ink when he healed you?

[Because Carlisle said it was normal but Chris hadn't been super convinced, especially since it had been really worrying.]

Oh, yes. That was--different.

[Worrying at the time, but hardly the strangest thing Maketh has ever seen. She drinks her coffee with a sigh. It's stronger than she normally likes, but today it seems fitting. Strong enough to chase off the building headache.] I'd never seen anything quite like that. I heard rumors of such gifts back home, but...

[One never expects to see them first hand.]

[Alright, well, if it happened when he healed Maketh too then maybe it is normal. Alarming, but normal, and who knows what 'normal' is for different worlds anyway?

Then mention of people with unusual powers in Maketh's word reminds him of the dream--hers, not his--again, and he's silent a few moments before speaking up again.]

So um... That guy, in your dream...

[Who was he, and... What was up with all of that?]

Oh. That.

[Maketh had been hoping - foolishly, perhaps - that Chris and Emily would forget seeing that particular element in her nightmares. But somehow the Inquisitor seems to find her every time. She'd been having nightmares about him even before the gods decided to interfere.

Still, she owes Chris an explanation. It's the least of her many debts.

Maketh rubs her forehead slowly.]

There are individuals with--power, in my world. He was one of them. The Inquisitor. He didn't have a name. Not anymore. We served together for a time. I thought him an ally.

[Chris is, for better or worse, once of those people that remembers dreams very clearly. It's great when he has some awesome dream about adventuring through a video game-like dungeon, collecting treasure and whatever, not as great when it's one of the nearly-constant nightmares that have been a problem since he got here.

He's quiet while she explains, sipping at his coffee--geez, he put a lot of whiskey in this--and looks back over at her once she's finished.]

Sorry. That sucks.

[When you think someone's on your side and find out they're very much not so. As far as the having powers thing--]

He uh... Definitely had the whole scary otherworldly thing going for him.

[Maketh snorts. That's one way to put it, and it's not entirely untrue.] He enjoyed making people guess at what he could do. Half the troopers were afraid of him. He seemed fond of me for a time, but that didn't last.

I uh, can't say that's super surprising. He kind of seemed like the type.

[To mess with people in part to make himself look more impressive. Not that he probably needs it, since what little Chris saw of him was more than scary enough.

He takes another drink of his coffee, thoughts drifting a bit, before realizes he should probably offer his own apology.]

I um... Sorry about uh... The wendigo.

[Or in other words, the whole dream. It had to be an unpleasant experience for her.]

[Privately, Maketh thought most things the Inquisitor had done were related far more to boredom than any sense of personal pride. You had to be a person in the first place to care that much about yourself, and the Inquisitor had been a weapon. Little else.

Maketh nods just once.] I'm sorry you had to survive that in the first place.

[He nods a little, staring distantly at the far wall for a few seconds before glancing toward Maketh, then refocusing on his coffee.]

Thanks. It um... Went a little better than that in uh, real life. Better gun, made it to the Lodge.

[Didn't get eaten.]

[Like with her dream. Things had gone better, but there had always been the chance that they wouldn't. Maketh drinks her coffee, trying to focus on that for the moment.] That gets me. What could have happened. Even before this, I...I'd have nightmares about that.

after the two dreams

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