Event Log: Dreamwalker the Second

[hadrielmods]

Who: All characters participating in the event
What: The event log for the Dreamwalker part 2 event
Where: In your dreams
When: October 14th-20th (the second log will go up on Oct 23rd, please keep the two weeks of the event separate!)
Warnings: All different kinds of dreams falling under the umbrella of Delight, Rage, Sorrow, and Hope.

This time, the weird stuff doesn't happen when you're awake- as a matter of fact, your waking hours are the normal ones. That's because you're forced to sleep by some unknown entity, getting more and more exhausted by the moment as night falls. Better make sure you're always around a soft pillow.

Once asleep, it doesn't get any less weird- your dreams will be influenced by one of the four gods that make up the first week. Something to make you smile, something to make you angry- or something that reminds you of your deepest regret or most vulnerable hope, they're all things that you're dreaming about now for some reason, no matter how hard you may try to pull away from them.

To make matters more complicated, there are others intruding on your dreams who definitely don't belong there, and while they may seem like manifestations at first, it becomes clear that these others are actually the consciousness of other members of Hadriel, getting some top quality exposure to your angriest, happiest, most sorrowful moments. Hope it doesn't get awkward when you see them tomorrow...

► This log covers October 14th-20th.
► 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!
► If you die in dreams you don't die in real life, but if you somehow die in real life anyway, please let us know here.

Comments

[hardwearing]

No, I was drafted into the UNSC, back during the Covenant War. My platoon got attacked one day and... look, the guy had it coming, he would've gotten us all killed, but the military's sort of strict about not assaulting your CO. Freelancer, I joined willingly when I had nowhere else to go.

It's the worst mistake I ever made.

[evocation]

[Once again, she doesn't know what to say. Honestly, she's not sure if he's really looking for any sort of comfort here or just answering her questions truthfully, but he's being so open that she feels almost guilty for shutting down on him. She sets her bowl on the table, then links her arm through his.]

Are things any better? Or were they before you got dumped here?

[hardwearing]

[ He lets her, shifting his own bowl to his other hand. His laugh is more than a little bitter. ]

Everybody's dead but me and Carolina. So not really.

And Charon's still experimenting with Freelancer tech, apparently. Before I woke up here I was in a battle against them.

[evocation]

Ugh.

[Strangely enough, it sounds like Hadriel might practically be a vacation for him.]

I hope you kick their asses. It sounds like they fucking deserve it.

[hardwearing]

[ Hadriel is totally vacation. Thing is, Wash doesn't know what to do with vacation. How to relax, how to deal with all the downtime. ]

Charon is evil. You could say Freelancer was, too, the way it used people, but Charon...

[ He shakes his head. Hargrove is worse than the Director, to Wash. ]

My world's a mess.

[evocation]

[She hums quietly, giving his arm a little squeeze.]

Maybe it'll get better? It has to, right?

[hardwearing]

I just... we have to keep trying to make things right. I don't know if we'll ever catch up, but. Giving up isn't an option.

[sheathes]

[ Saber turns to look at him — a little surprised to see somebody else, but somehow it doesn't bother her like it should. She shakes her head, frowning. ]

It's a test. Whoever pulls it out will be the next king. [ Her voice is full of resolve, but she's obviously still just reciting something she's been told, something she's been raised to believe. ] But nobody can. Nobody wants the responsibility to save everyone, even if that's what it means to be a king.

[ And so, the sword won't answer them. But she keeps staring at it all the same. ]

[evocation]

Yeah, but you're like...

[She falters for a second, struggling to figure out what she's trying to say.]

I think you can do it.

HOPE i know i said delight but i read this and screamed so yknow

[restinglichface]

The first thing that Lup recognizes is the feeling of sand beneath her feet. The second thing she recognizes is that she can feel.

Lup looks down to see own feet beneath her, buried halfway in the sand, her skin dark against a sea of gray sand. Her gaze travels to her hand, flesh and blood, as she squeezes it into a fist, feeling the stretch of her muscles, the press of her fingernails into her palm. Her body's been returned to her, but how? And why?

Unfortunately, the elf doesn't have the time to dwell on why she has a body, because she spots a familiar man coming up onto the beach, an unfamiliar woman dragged along with him. Lup moves to meet them on instinct, watches as Ephemera sets the stranger to the ground, moving more gently than she's ever seen him move.

Then he calls her 'sis' and Lup feels the air in her newly returned lungs punched right out of her.

Ephemera's snap is enough to bring her back, his plea (gods, his voice just cuts right through Lup) all that's needed for the elf to drop to the woman's other side, a hand moving to her chestplate. She's never seen armor like this on anyone but Ephemera, so she has to learn on the fly how to undo it, following his movements on the other side, her fingers fumbling from lack of use the last twelve years.

[hardwearing]

I'm like.. what?

[ He was the worst of them, for awhile there. ]

[evocation]

[She shrugs and burrows down into the couch cushions a bit, which is awkward considering their arms are still linked.]

You care about people. You're... sweet, you know?

[God, that sounds so stupid.]

[sheathes]

[ It is dumb............... thanks Merlin. Then again, when magic is involved, they ain't gotta explain shit. ]

That is correct. So far, none have been able to. [ She's a little surprised at Nah's size — not that she's one to talk. But she's always been an exception at gatherings like these, the only slender figure amongst the burly knights conversing further across the field. ] The great wizard Merlin says it will reveal the true heir of King Uther.

... If none can draw it, the jousting tournament will decide the next ruler. But it takes more than strength to be a king. I believe the sword is the better way.

[hardwearing]

[ Oddly, he doesn't seem to take that well. At the least, he doesn't know what to do about it. At worst, he'd disagree. But his opinion of himself is colored by the past. ]

There's a lot you don't know about me, Kyna.

[evocation]

[That gets another shrug, and now she's very pointedly not looking at him.]

You helped with my dad. I know it was just a dream, but you didn't have to do it. And you're letting that little girl stay with you.

[hardwearing]

I don't know where the line is. In judging people by what they do instead of what they've done.

[evocation]

[She has no idea where that line is either, but...]

I'm not gonna judge you.

[restinglichface]

[In her dreams, Lup imagines she's back in her body.

There's a part of her that realizes how wrong this is almost immediately. Not just the the whole current setting she's in, which definitely is throwing off a big ol' spooky vibe, but the fact that she's dreaming at all. Because that really shouldn't be able to happen to her anymore. Not since she lost her body. Not since she was trapped.

But even if those keenly honed survival instincts of hers are telling Lup how bad it would be continue, the woman's natural curiosity wins out in the end. What else is there to do but continue on? It's a dream (isn't it? she thinks it is), so how bad could it be?

Her gaze flickers to the screen when it powers up, to the text displayed there, even if it makes no sense. The noises are easy to ignore when she spies Alphys in the corner, working away on something, murmuring under her breath. Lup steps forward--and boy, does that feel weird after not having walked in over a decade--and closes some of the distance between her and the other woman.]

Never figured you were all into the spooky life, Alphy. This place doesn't give off creepy, someone's-gonna-get-murdered vibes to you?

[hardwearing]

I know.

[ And he appreciates it more than he can really articulate with just a thank you. Because he really does feel that even if she knew, the opinion she has now would stick. ]

You're kinda weird, you know.

[evocation]

[She lets out an almost offended little huff.]

What? How am I weird?

[am_i_a_monster]

[The chains are terrifying to Abigail, weighing her down and making her think her fear of being arrested for her father's crimes has come true. It takes an effort for her to simply to remain on her feet when she is thrown into the room. She stares at her surroundings. It's very different than the room where Jack Crawford interrogated her. So fancy. Is it a court room? Someone had said something about a prisoner? Was that her? She tries to meet the gaze of the man in gold, and then looks down at the ground, trembling.]

I didn't do it.

[She knows not to say what the 'it' was. It could be for the crimes of her father, or for killing Nicholas Boyle, or for pushing Dr. Bloom out a window. She wouldn't admit to anything.]

Don't I get a lawyer or something?

[She looks up again slowly, forcing herself to look at the man in gold and give him her best look of innocence.]

Please. I didn't do anything wrong.

[hardwearing]

You're... I guess you just trust your instincts, but I wouldn't have trusted me. I wasn't even nice to you.

[naw]

[she eyes the sword. should she try it....... nah. i mean, no. no point in making herself look like a fool here.]

A jousting champion, made king? You might as well put his horse on the throne instead. [the sword method also sounds as equally terrible. if a great wizard or whatever says so, though, then there's clearly more to it than having the right biceps to draw it.]

Kings also need to be wise. There must be a trick to pulling the sword out, then.

[hardwearing]

Wash holds his position a moment longer, studies Sharkface's expression when he removes his helmet.

He means it.

"Thank you." It comes out a little grudgingly, but it's genuine.

He glances back at Maine, scans him quickly. He's malnourished and wounded, and unconscious now. And there's no one else around.

"...I can't carry him alone."

[evocation]

[She lets out an incredulous noise.]

Oh my god, seriously, trust me. On the asshole scale, you don't even register. Besides, I've taken down way scarier things than you. No offense.

[That probably sounds terrible and she doesn't even realize it.]