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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[she's eyeing the bowl. the contents of the bowl, to be more specific, but her wandering thoughts of hypothetically if she could eat the entire thing are thankfully interrupted before she can even consider actually going for it.]

Sure! No problem. [without even thinking she turns to leave the kitchen, but then pauses mid-step.]

... Er, which one is Julia?

[a vague feeling tells her that she should know, but.]

[As she speaks, Henry takes the chance to eat, though he raises his eyebrows at her list, a look of disgust crossing his expression at the scandal.]

...Hm. I believe I once heard of that treasonous incest, from a girl with short, dark hair and grey eyes. She departed Hadriel long ago.

[One corner of his mouth quirks.]

So many Baratheons to your name. And yet no wonder you saw civil war with such vile sin defiling the throne. Despite the miserable circumstances, it must be a relief to be free of it.

[scandal is a nice way of putting it]

She must have been from Westeros, although she doesn't sound familiar.

[she laughs] Yes, too many. Honestly, had I it to do over, I should have either stopped at Renly or approached the Starks with an alliance. Joffrey had already shown himself to be a little tyrant with his demand for Lord Eddard Stark's head, even if he wasn't the product of incest.

[Watching the tense exchange is an emotionally mixed bag for Tucker. There's fear, of course, since these people will try to kill him if they find him. But there's something else, too, a weird twist to his gut when the captain slams dream-Rome against the wall, when she tells him they're waiting for us to fail. He's not entirely sure what he thought was going on here, but this solidifies it.

Whoever's in charge of these two, they're literally treating them like animals, just using them as dogs to hunt down their own kind. Which Rome said, yeah, but Tucker takes everything he hears with a grain of salt, always assuming that the speaker is exaggerating, or twisting the truth for their own agenda. Sometimes they're just remembering things wrong, or talking from a perspective where they didn't see the full picture. Looks like Rome wasn't.

Seriously though, what the fuck. People in Tucker's world are shitty about werewolves too, but at least they don't force them to murder each other. (They do that themselves.)]

Yeah, sure. [Tucker moves out of the bathroom, keeping low, trying to see through the doorway outside. He figures that carrying around a shiny metal pole won't be the brightest idea outdoors, so he ditches it, shoving the St. Christopher medal in his jacket pocket.

There's something he wants to know.]

Was that real? Like, is this a memory? I figure it is, but I also know dreams do weird shit, so: is this really how this went down?

[That comment gets a laugh.]

More than you know. And yeah, never the good kind. But at least they're usually easy to dress down? Just act like everything rolls right off you. And if they're greedy on top of nasty, use it get something worthwhile for your trouble.

A clever way to do things. But it makes me think your home must be a difficult one to survive in.

[Rhy's kingdom isn't perfect, but infant death isn't such a fact of life.]

Still, a celebration is a celebration, regardless of the reason.

He can never stop. The coding deep in his mind won't let him. His eyes close.

"My name is Kyrii."

Lights in the distance start to fade. The grinding sounds of metal slow to a halt. In a world that has so much ambient noise, the silence that follows is the most unsettling. Kyrii takes a long breath. He doesn't recognize how abnormal it is. The darkness creeping toward them from the distance isn't something he notices.

"Maybe it is out there. But it... isn't. It never is. It's always gone by the time I get there."

Maybe if he rests for a while and regains his strength. Then he might be able to go on.

"But I have to keep going."

The scene, in all its horror, somehow pales in comparison to the oppressive guilt that seems to hang over the scene. Every crime listed isn't a charge, but a location, a name. Buildings which were destroyed. The weight and images of fighting in streets and the loss of life under attacks and bombs.

Kate's hisses next to Curufin. This isn't what she expected to hear, but there's images of breaking news flickering over the scene, newspaper clippings and echoing, indistinct newscasters talking about violence in the United Kingdom after the events in Manchester.

And something in that voice, their judge, curls the dread in her gut, weaves it through the heavy air. A familiarity.

"Wouldn't you say that it was better as it was, Katherine?" Those words pass the six on trial, aim straight at the two eavesdroppers, make Kate bare her teeth as the judge steps into the light, one good eye glinting steel grey. It's a shock to her heart, enough to jerk Kate straight from sleep, frustrated and bearing the weight of ten years of tension in her chest.

It is. And it only gets worse once you're a man or woman grown.

[Westeros is backwards in a lot of ways]

I always loved my Name Days. When I was at Highgarden, we'd have feasts with singers and jugglers and a course for each year of my age.

We can't.

[It's softer. A muscle jumps in his jaw- tight, tense, and there's so many things he wants to communicate somehow, but it's impossible, just like saving anyone here is impossible.]

They're already dead. They died thirty years ago.

We follow orders.

[He corrects, firmly.]

We are soldiers, not hunters.

Fuck their parties.

[He says, like someone who has maybe been to one of them for twenty minutes- which is really all he's needed. Of course, there are always different kinds of parties at Aglionby- there are the parties of the posh, where champagne and wine is served and then there's the normal parties that get kegs ordered and everyone gets plastered.

Then there's the third kind of party, the kind he's been to and found distasteful, the kind that he can't imagine Adam ever going to.]

And fuck your homework, man. [He shakes his head.] You sound like my brother.

( Marc laughs. He's not as fast as Kate - who is, she'd easily remind him - but he's strong. His movements cut through the air with weight as he doesn't change tactics, keeping Kate busy with the "ghost" while he focuses on Jo, not bothering to answer the question at all.

Oh, BTW, Jo? There's another knife, dancing right at the back of your neck. God only knows when he pulled that off. )

... Strategy.

( It's at that time when Kate breaks free, the split second of gloating dropping Marc's attention to the knife holding her off and allowing her to dive behind, touching the back of his neck.

Both knives clatter to the floor. )

You're it.

Yeah... something like that, I guess. It's his home.

[Adam had never seen a cow before either. They're pretty cute, though.]

I'll agree on that point. I used to think success was what mattered, but - I don't know. Love is a privilege. If you can find it, you shouldn't let it go.

[thinking about cute cows will make her feel guilty about eating burgers]

Yeah, Love. . . I wouldn't know about that kind of thing.

[He bites his tongue so hard it hurts, at first. This is selfish. More than selfishness, something he never gave a shit before, this is cruel. This is cruel to her to deny something like this that she's worked so hard and so long for. Especially now, on the day she asked to be for her.

But he couldn't even do that. He could then, when he could laugh it off- or try to- but it's been thirty years and it's still simmering, the permanence, the way he can track back in time where he feels he might have lost her.

Since when was he so insecure?]

You just-- I can't do this with you.

[Said in the same tone someone would say I can't do this alone.]

I know you're not asking that. That's stupid, cuz this would be different if you were, I just--

[His voice dies in his throat, and he keeps holding on, but doesn't look at her. He can feel the motion in his legs, how it chokes his gut and works up his chest.]

I can't follow. This. You.

[He yelps, undignified and a little messy as he gives her a pout, but Lup can see the tips of his ears going red. Busted, buddy. Usually, he'd never be this open, be faster on the uptake, but the emotion and purpose of the dream are keeping him in a happier stasis. It means he really emotes when she messes with him, the shoving and laughter and open-faced movements when it was just the two of them.]

Shut up, I wasn't-- I was just looking at everyone! In general! You're queen sappy shit around here, don't even play.

[He looks down and away from her, pretending to adjust his bangs but really trying to stop the color spreading on his cheeks.]

He's just-- he's not my guy! He's just a guy. Don't think I forgot how you fuckin' looked at Barry for twenty fucking years before you made it official, god.

[ Pro tip: not considering yourself 'rich' and not having any money doesn't mean that you don't have any valuables on you! Lup - or is it Taako? He's still having trouble telling them apart at this age! - is suddenly right up in his personal bubble, and Taako (or possibly Lup) is behind him, and...

... oh, crap! Angus whirls around with an indignant cry and snatches at the wand, mentally berating himself for leaving an opening. ]

Hey! Give it--!

[ Okay, okay, no. He can't handle this like the twins are a pair of schoolyard bullies, getting all screechy and indignant like some stupid kid never works. Maybe he'll have better luck if he approaches this logically. ]

I-I can't show you how to do the spell if I don't have my wand! I need that back!

Uh... Yeah? [He's not sure what's so noteworthy about that?] But I can't do magic better than adults. My teacher is an elf and elfs can't have magic done on 'em, then my mom does it better and I don't have a dad.

[It's easier to talk about these things when he's educating.]

Um. I can do this? [He scrunches up his face and holds a hand out a Michael. A tiny, hot pink penis appears on the inside of one lens his glasses. Alakazam!! He laughs.]

Huh?

[The biggest warning sign here, truly, is that Hayden's skeleton isn't ripping itself from his skin at the mention of cookies. He lifts his face and looks down at his pajama top, writing it in his hands.]

I got sweaty so I took it off...but now...I'm cold...

[He whines and hiccups, but finally makes his way over to Harlan, shuffling and shivering and looking generally upset.]

[He follows Abigail's gaze up to the house. A window...? Yeah, one of them is his, but he doesn't see how this is relevant.] I don't want to get out. I like getting to sleep in my room. I know how to unlock it, anyway. [He's only eight, yeah, but they've started teaching cantrips in school. He was born with a natural talent for magic, so Prestidigitation was easy enough for him to master.

But then, she's talking about her dad, and then his mom comes up, and she asks questions he doesn't know how to answer. Well, no. That's not true. He knows the answers. He just doesn't know what he's supposed to say. Why would she ask that? He thinks back over their conversation. They talked about rabbits and getting pushed. He didn't say anything wrong. He didn't.]

Um... [He shifts his weight and digs his fingernails into the bloody spot on his knee.] She loves me.

[Well, she's not wrong. It's one of Tucker's more frustrating traits, though Harlan at least understands why he's like that.]

Just don't forget that you're putting him into an uncomfortable position. It's like when people try to touch me. I can deal if they're not dicks about it.

[Harlan meets Hayden halfway, then heads to his dresser to pull out another shirt, a longsleeve one in hopes that it'll be warmer. He brings it back over to Hayden and trades him for the sweaty shirt.]

That happens sometimes. I wake up like that a lot. [Maybe it's less scary if it's normal?]

What do you want to do instead of sleeping? Since we're never doing that again.

[Fact.]

That's smart. Mostly I just try to avoid them.

[Which is less satisfying, but more likely to keep him out of any bad situations.]

They're not all terrible, but even the good ones can be completely oblivious.

[She looks over her shoulder to him, still downtrodden, not enough energy to truly explain.]

They are. That's how it works here.

[She looks back into the darkness, expecting something more than what it's giving her.]

Monsters are the name of our race. We're d-different from humans. Human SOULs are strong enough that they can exist outside their bodies. The essence of who they are. But monsters are mostly magic. Once we die, we...

[She brushes some dust from her lab coat, and onto her hand, closing the palm and feeling it on her skin.]

I needed to find a way to get monster SOULs to act like humans. So I could f-free everyone. So we could get out.

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Event Log: Dreamwalker the Second

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