hadriel_logs | 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

The day was wearing on toward evening, though the city lights assured that night would be anything but dark. The fall air was crisp and the occasional breeze ruffled the leaves on the trees dotting the park. All in all it was a pleasant evening, perfect for a walk — but this was the Battle City tournament, and the entire city of Domino was its playing field. For a duelist like yourself, a simple evening walk could invite a challenge at any time.

Really, you should have avoided the park entirely.

Your challenger had certainly appeared unassuming; dressed in a simple tee and dark jeans, duel disk on his skinny arm, he looked like any other teen competing in the tournament. Perhaps you'd even laughed as he challenged you in a small voice. But as you drew your opening hand and the holographic projectors warmed up a strange, dark fog descended around you. Perhaps even more strangely, your opponent seemed somehow more sinister than a moment before; his movements sharper, his eyes crueler, and his voice much more commanding in tone.

His deck ripped yours apart. And every time your life points decreased, it felt as if a part of you was being ripped away as well.

Finally, the duel ended — but as you handed over your ante, your rarest card and your locator card, the darkness swirling around you only seemed to get worse. Surely it's just your imagination and it's not actually getting darker? You look up at your opponent, those cruel eyes and that mouth twisted around a cruel smirk as his lips form two words: "Penalty Game."

Edited 2017-10-17 05:34 (UTC)

Mettaton didn't understand the rules, he understood practically nothing of what was going on. Perhaps that was what had made this challenge so unexpected and perhaps...even innocent. But as it had unfolded, it became clearer and clearer that he had been set to lose.

Even with how adaptive he was, the rules of this card game had tripped him up, and the loss had come embarrassingly quickly. More worrisome than the blow to his pride however, was the fact that Mettaton, being a monster, knew the feel of magic. Humans were dangerous enough, but with magic at their disposal, much less magic that caused such pain to even as unique a monster as he...well...

He plays it rather close to the vest when he offers the spoils to this cocky victor. Those words though...they cause Mettaton to hesitate. He's not frightened; it would take more than that.

"What do you mean 'penalty game'? I assure you, if you intend to escalate this past harmless sport--"

Harmless nothing, his SOUL still ached and his limbs felt heavy from the strain of finishing this strange duel out.

"--then I will defend myself. That is your only warning."

"I mean—" There's that cruel grin again, the one that taunts at the edges, the one that reflects the hardness in his eyes. Long fingers easily pocket the anted items, giving them hardly a thought. They're not what's really important. "—exactly what I said."

A wind blows through the space, tendrils of mist clinging to its edges. Its chill doesn't appear to bother Bakura at all. "If you were so foolish to mistake this as harmless... Well, it's not my problem."

Mettaton still isn't scared, but given the tone of the situation, he is apprehensive. The wind is...unnatural. Eerie.

Cold.

But he doesn't flinch. Instead, a small crackle of electricity moves along his fingers, visible in the encroaching darkness which surrounded them both, but mostly it was him, wasn't it? The penalty was not on the winner, right, but the loser.

For a brief moment, he recalls shocking a small human child, threatening them with insane pyrotechnics and tile puzzles. He remembers what happens to those that lose, and the price they pay, and his apprehension grows. Because when did a simple card game become something so dire?

"It will be your problem soon," he hisses, and again, the small bolts dance across his gloves, conducting along his segmented arms. It's as good a threat as any. "Do not mistake me for someone who goes down easy. Let's hope, for your sake, that you can back up those silly little words of yours."

"Do you really think so?"

There's the barest, faintest gleam of golden light at Bakura's forehead. It's there and gone in an instant, a brief suggestion of the outline of an eye. Arms cross over his chest — the movement is a little awkward for the presence of the Duel Disk — and that smirk is still firmly in place. For someone who's all long limbs and little muscle, someone who looks to be next to useless in a physical fight, he's pretty confident in the manner of intimidating poses.

Although that crackle of electricity is interesting indeed. What manner of man is this? Bakura had't paid too much attention to him during the duel — the opening moves had made it clear that it would not be a hard challenge — but now he takes note indeed. What an interesting contribution to his collection of souls this one will be!

"You see, you've lost the game. And when the shadows are promised a soul, that soul does not escape."

"Then stop threatening and take action, or are you nothing but a bad attitude and pathetic posturing?!"

Mettaton is, perhaps, impatient for his own demise, but where has subtlety earned him any points? When has he ever escaped the pain of defeat and the price he must pay? If he was to suffer, then he expects it to happen already!

But, if Bakura seeks to delay it, then he should have expected what comes next.

Mettaton lashes out, thrusting his segmented arm forward and attempting to strike the pitiful human down with his electrical magic. Hie bares pointed fangs, looking like the monster he was for the barest moment. It's his last rebellious move, before the shadows begin to creep around his ankles, seeking purchase against the metallic surface.

He won't show fear. He's done showing fear.

~~What a hypocrite, to think he's fearless.~~

Event Log: Dreamwalker the Second

Delight

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject