hadriel_logs | Event Log: Dreamwalker the Second

Entry tags:

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Ephemera swallows hard, backing up as Drake steps inside. It's fine. Drake's hand is strong on his, sure and real. "Had a really fucked up dream."

He has a feeling Drake had the same one.

"Me too. I think it was more than a dream."

Since yeah, they're. On the same page. Unfortunately.

"Fucking Hadriel..."

"Fucking Hadriel," Ephemera agrees, trying not to let his voice shake. He wants to laugh suddenly. Tell a stupid joke. Something to cut the tension, make this easier. Like he didn't just watch Drake fucking die on some medical table. What comes out is sharp and certain, and not at all joking. "You don't die like that."

No. Not like that.

Drake goes still and quiet. Because he did die like that. It's already happened, it's done. He doesn't regret the choice he made to protect the others, and honestly, he isn't even angry. He's just... sad.

"I already did, man." But it's fine, it's fine because he's alive here. They both are. Drake lifts their hands, squeezes hard enough to hurt, to feel the bones in Ephemera's hand creak. "Denial won't change it, but it's not now. Right?"

Ephemera shivers, watching Drake squeeze their joined hands. Hears the creak more than he feels it. He wonders if Drake can feel the pins holding his bones together. Remembers the sound they made after Chica snapped them back into place, one after another. Like breaking a branch, but slowly. Only a little at a time. "Just a fucked up dream."

"Ephemera..." He doesn't want to argue over it, doesn't have the will or energy to argue that yes, he's dead. Yes, that's how it happened. As much as he needs Ephemera to accept it, he just doesn't have it in him to push.

So he doesn't.

He lets go instead, scrubbing at his face.

"God, I'm never getting back to sleep..."

Drake lets go and Ephemera only hesitates a moment before reaching for him, putting his hand on Drake's arm. Keeping contact. The dream scared him. It lingered after it was done and even now, when Ephemera is certain that he's awake, pieces of it linger around the corners. Just out of sight. "I know," he says, quietly. "I know."

Because parts of it were true. Drake did die.

"It's not here."

Ephemera isn't sure he believes that, but he wants to. Desperately.

"It's not," he agrees, relieved that his friend isn't actually in some sort of denial. It's just grief, more likely. Not wanting to accept it even after he saw it himself. Maybe especially because he did.

"It's not here and it probably won't be, I'm not gonna turn into that thing." It's his worst fear that he will, if he's honest. That for some reason they'll go hungry and he'll hurt people, hurt Ephemera. "But if it ever happens, you aim straight here, okay?" He lifts a hand, points to his forehead. "It's the only way."

Ephemera meets Drake's eyes then. Headshot. Clean. And he makes a decision then.

"I'll do it. If it ever comes to that. And then I'll kill every one of those fuckers."

"I don't know how they could... we were obviously still people. A Romero is one thing," and now Ephemera's seen it, "but if you can't tell the difference without medical testing you should just. Realize that you're dealing with a fucking person. Not a lab rat."

"People are fucking monsters," Ephemera murmurs. "Not all of them. But enough."

It doesn't take much.

"Yeah. I've always known that. Sometimes it just hits me, and I don't... get it. Knowing people can be evil is different from being able to get inside their heads and understand the how."

Ephemera never wanted to understand how it happened, only to react when it did. But to know--

Fuck.

He swallows hard and reaches out, puts his hand on Drake's arm.

"I'm sorry. That shouldn't happen to anyone."

The touch drags Drake out of his own head, where he was remembering Mr Boss and Blaine and those fucking lab techs... He sighs.

"I'm okay," he says again, softer this time. "Can we go sit down? I'm not getting back to sleep but I'm still tired."

"Yeah," Ephemera says. He takes his hand back, not sure if it was the right or wrong thing to do. "Do you want coffee or anything?"

Drake considers that, heading for Ephemera's living room. It doesn't seem right to invade his bed, but he definitely wants to flop.

"Maybe in a couple hours?"

Now what are they supposed to do? Drake's alive, breathing, and now that he's confirmed that, Ephemera feels like an idiot for panicking. It was just a dream. A fucked up, very realistic dream they somehow shared. But still a dream.

Ephemera runs his hand through his hair.

"Right," he murmurs. "....you wanna play cards or something?"

What he wants, he really shouldn't.

"Sure, grab 'em."

He sits on the couch, rubbing his face and trying to find the line of what's appropriate and what's not. Sweets' advice was sound, it made sense and Drake knows he should take it. But then Ephemera comes over with the deck of cards and.

Just for a little while. It won't hurt anything.

"...we can play in a minute," he says, reaching up and snagging Ephemera's hand, tugging him down on the next cushion instead of letting him settle farther away. Just a minute. He turns, leaning back against the arm of the couch and hoping Ephemera takes the hint.

They'll play cards for a while, Drake will kick his ass, and when morning comes around, they'll both be better. It was a bad dream. A bad fucking nightmare that was somehow more than that, but it's done. Ephemera digs out the cards and is ready to get them out and start shuffling when Drake takes his hand.

It's not like before.

And--

Let it be simple, Ephemera tells himself. Just let it be simple for a minute and don't think. He sets the cards down leans against Drake, closes his eyes and just breathes. It's easy, suddenly, to put his head against Drake's chest and listen for his heartbeat. The slowness of it doesn't scare him anymore.

They're holding hands, he thinks. It ought to be ridiculous and somehow isn't.

Ephemera settles against him and against all better judgment Drake drapes his free arm around his friend's shoulders, holds on. Shifts his grip with the other hand so their fingers tangle together. Just for a minute. It's not a big deal.

God, he's fucked.

Later, Ephemera thinks he'll wonder about this. How easily it happened. How after waking up from a nightmare, the first thing he could think of was checking on Drake. Making sure he was still breathing. And then, upon finding it true, just--

They're holding hands. Of all the things in the whole damn universe, they're holding hands. Drake has his arm over Ephemera's shoulder, doesn't protest how Ephemera is leaning against him, and their hands are tangled together. Just--holding.

Breathing.

Ephemera inhales. Holds it. Lets it go.

"These dreams--I had one. A different one. I think Washington was there."

It's so comforting, so peaceful, that Drake almost thinks he could fall asleep again. But then Ephemera speaks, his voice rumbling through both their chests, and what he says he potentially worrisome.

"...what did he see?"

And how does Ephemera feel about him seeing it? Having his enemy inside his head?

"It wasn't real."

Or at least it wasn't how things had happened.

Ephemera stays quiet for a moment, just listening to Drake's breathing.

"I found her in the water. Chica. She wasn't--she wouldn't wake up. But he was there, and--he helped me. Got her breathing again."

Well, that's almost certainly not what a Washington inserted by Ephemera's mind would do. Odds are it was really him, stuck there by Hadriel, making that decision. Drake's not certain what to make of it.

"Why, do you think?"

Ephemera closes his eyes. It was much simpler when Washington was just a suit of armor, a target to be eliminated. "Because I asked him to."

It leaves a confused, sharp feeling in his throat to admit that.

"I would've done anything, to save her."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject