hadriel_logs | Event Log: Dreamwalker the Second

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Event Log: Dreamwalker the Second

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.

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And that gives you the right to murder them?! (Sansa grits her teeth, furious.) There is enough hardship without you adding a tragedy onto it!

"It seems like that's for the best." Hux knew that Obi-Wan had played a part in the destruction of the first Death Star, he wouldn't be sad to see the Jedi dead.

He didn't understand that kind of passion, he had never felt emotions so strongly before as Anakin seemed to. It seemed overwhelming just from the way he spoke about Padme. "What are you going to do then?"

"Boys and girls can be terrors." Sansa beams at him and at the inquisitive little Peredhels, "I could tell you horrible stories of what my sister and I used to do to one another."

A thrill of delight passes through her and it heightens her adrenaline. I don't want them to die quickly. I want it to hurt!

She knows it's petty, but when she looks at each of them, she wants them to suffer.

His voice is like a bright flare of warmth in a blizzard. Sansa feels her very skin burning under the hateful stares of her family. She has been alone before and part of her knows she will inevitably feel that loneliness again, yet the voice belongs to a world where she always, always has company. Turning in a swirl of skirts, she flees the dining hall and runs to him.

She finds him without a word, throwing her arms around his neck, eyes shut tightly. No, she does not call for him, but maybe she should.

He is forgotten momentarily while she attempts to confront her family. She has not seen them in so long and they are as she remembers - almost exactly - except for their reception of her. Words fail her - she feels like she cannot speak on her own behalf - and her head is bowed within moments.

I deserve this. I caused them so much pain and grief.

But then a powerful voice rises, speaking for her; startling her back to life. She turns to stare at him, tender wonder written on her features.

"Lord Curufin..." Sansa slips her arms around his arm, resting her cheek against his shoulder, "They are dead. Winterfell belongs to me with or without their permission. We must simply see to ourselves and not expect the aid of spirits."

Edited 2017-10-25 06:33 (UTC)

Sansa smiles tentatively, eyes brightening at the mabari's joy. Barkspawn will definitely be getting some nice ear rubs if he remains so friendly! But, for the moment, she is captivated by his pups.

"Hello, sweet ones." she kneels down and lifts the puppies into her lap, giggling, "They are beautiful and healthy! Congratulations, Barkspawn."

[He gallantly takes her arm and leads her over to retrieve drinks for both of them.]

What do I have to wish for, when I've got all this?

[Rhy seems perfectly happy. Delighted, even.]

Maybe I can hold on to it for later.

"You will leave yourself vulnerable if you do." He warns.

"Vengeance is good and well, but I will not see you harmed by it!"

He laughs softly.

"They were more like to turn on us than each other. It hurt Elrond greatly when Elros chose mortality."

They cannot hurt me. I'm the one in control. Her wolfish pride is dangerous - even though it feels wonderful to not be frightened; to not be weak.

"I would not have gotten far turning on our parents." she shrugs, settling at his side, "You must have been entertaining to watch!" her smile fades, "To lose a twin must be like losing half of yourself."

He snorts, amused.

"Believe me, that only made them more determined. They learnt very quickly - their mortal blood, I suppose. And they took to Songs of Power as if born to it - that would be the Maia in them, presumably. I think Elros killed his first troll when he was seventeen, and Elrond was banishing wights by then."

"Are you?" He challenges scoldingly. "Or is your hatred?"

[ She nods. ] Yes. But I will not just try.

[ Her voice doesn't have a trace of arrogance, and somehow it's believable despite sounding ridiculous. Surely, there's no way to know that she'll succeed, but she does. She will. ]

The king is a servant of the people. He rides into battle without fear of death, and offers his life for their own. [ Words she's been taught, but clearly believes in full. ] That is what this country needs. That is why I will draw the sword.

[Yusuke shakes his head.] Sensei -- that is, Madarame -- has always been a father to me, when I had no one. He's all I have. Even if I told someone about all he's done, none would believe me.

[He shakes the door again as he tries to open it. Frustrated, he looks back at Adam with an apologetic expression.]

I'm sorry. It wasn't my intention for you to become trapped in my own predicament.

[The building is less of a house and more what could be described as a shabby, rundown shack, without even basic things like wallpaper or carpeting, with only small rooms and tiny, claustrophobic windows. As they step out into the hallway it becomes clear they're on the second floor, and there are only occasional flashes of artistic beauty, like a suspiciously intricate door at the opposite end of the corridor, painted with the beautiful pattern of a peacock tail. A padlock keeps the door locked fast.

A set of stairs take them down, and there's a muffled noise in another room that sounds like Madarame is listening to a news report. Yusuke goes to the edge of the stairs, then stops, turning to whisper to Abigail.]

The third and seventh step down both creak. Take care to avoid them. [Yusuke leads the way down the stairs, avoiding the aforementioned steps; apparently this isn't the first time he's had to creep around his own home unnoticed to avoid incurring his mentor's wrath. Once he's at the bottom he can hear the radio more distinctly.]

The artist Madarame is internationally renowned, with patrons and art enthusiasts from across not only Japan, but the world, all flocking to his exhibition this month. Many praise him for his versatility, showing incredible variation in his pieces, as if multiple artists are housed in one genius imagination...

[Yusuke makes a sour expression, a sick feeling in the pit of his stock. But he tries to cast it out of his mind as he looks upstairs, making an 'all clear' gesture for Abigail to follow him down.]

Henry smiles warmly.

"You honour us. Naturally, you are most welcome at our table in Warkworth or Alnwick. Irisviel once mentioned something about you being summonable...?"

Summoning King Arthur to dinner. That would certainly make for a memorable feast. He says it in the same spirit — they have enough wars to fight without fighting another for the Holy Grail too. What is all that about, anyway? He had not the heart to press Irisviel when it distressed her so.

"And I you. Though think me not rude to favour our meal over conversation. Indeed, let me not hinder the satisfaction of your kingly appetite."

It's best not to waste their good fortune whether the gods' ministrations are concerned.

Barkspawn wiggles happily, and Aren smirks. "He's going to be smug about it forever, but I guess he's earned it. Mabari are the best dogs ever and there always needs to be more of them."

She boops one on the nose, then starts in on the belly rubs. So much wiggling! "They're not only good war dogs, they're smart and loyal. Once they pick someone, they do it for life."

Oh..! [Glacius seems to perk up immediately- too pleased at the suggestion to be embarrassed any longer over not recognizing the name of the star, or what a "dolphin" is for that matter. Though he suffers a moment of dissonance over suddenly be transported to another new scene, his attention is easily directed to the stars-- they were always a comfort, at the same time they were a reminder of what they lost. In this, he and the woman standing next to him are strikingly similar.]

I... I believe that I see it, yes. [The alien nods, following the direction of her hand, letting her guide his eyes.] I'm glad to meet another stargazer. They hold... a lot of meaning to me. Is it the same for you?

[Ronan has never much cared for school.

Understatement.

Ronan has always hated school and the social parodies that played out every day within it. He's hated the eyes, the fingers, and the hordes of mouths with too many teeth inside of them. He's hated the whispers, the squeaking of sneakers on tile, the god damned order of it all.

He hates that he's here, but he knows he's not really. There's nothing in him that could come back here, not willingly and not in his dreams because there's nothing for him here anymore, no emotional attachment, not even a single fond memory.

Lie.

He met Adam here, and Gansey too, and even Noah in a weird way. And he loves those memories because they were the beginning of a journey, not because of where that journey started out. Which was... right here.

It's strange to remember all that, but not remember his place in it. Ronan's eyes are hard as flint when the boys turn to him, and he feels all the pent-up rage that Adam must have been hiding for years. The condescension of it prickles at the back of his spine, and it's probably for the best that Ronan wasn't a scholarship kid or he'd have been kicked out in the first week.

Now though, he'll be lucky if he makes it to the end of the day.]

I'll shove your fucking collection so far up your ass you'll be spitting dimes for a week.

[He says, acidic, his hands tense at his side. His vision flickers from one of them, toward the other. After a sharp, tense moment, his shoulders ease and he tilts his head.]

Shit, you don't even know what a dime is. It's what you choked on when you were a baby to kill half your fucking braincells. Keep moving.

It's not sharing if I have to leave to fuckin' find you. That's stealing the main dude for your own entrance. I know your tricks.

[He leans into the touch, though, not shoving her back even as a joke. He wants her there, more than anyone else at this dumb place. It's gotta be her.]

And, y'know. Everybody's around. We've had worse excuses to get everybody super drunk and watch Mags start bench-pressing Ango. I haven't mentioned it to him yet, I'm holding it 'till he's a little more off his ass.

[He almost looks... a little pensive, for a moment, clearer in his emotions than Lup has probably ever seen him.]

It's just... been a long time. Since the whole gang was together. Not even just the IPRE, like... all of us.

Is it a type of wine?

[Marg likes her wine in moderation. unlike certain people she could mention. ::cough::Cersei Lannister::cough:: )

Our winters can be brutal and last ten years long. Even in the Reach, which is almost as south as you can go in Westeros, has trouble maintaining certain types of fruit bearing trees.

Jo stays quiet, the words bouncing around in her head for a moment.

It's true. Sooner or later everyone dies. Sometimes people come back, but that doesn't change the facts.

Death is universal.

"That's why people are scared of it."

[Sam doesn't seem to notice, and Jo relaxes back against the post.]

Good. Maybe he'll shut up soon.

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Event Log: Dreamwalker the Second

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you're right and i hate it

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