ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴅᴛᴇᴀᴍ ᴏғ ʜᴀᴅʀɪᴇʟ (
hadrielmods) wrote in
hadriel_logs2017-10-14 09:52 am
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Entry tags:
- !event,
- abigail hobbs,
- anakin skywalker,
- aren brosca,
- atem,
- bakura,
- bianca,
- celebrimbor,
- curufin,
- daenerys targaryen,
- dr. lee rosen,
- dr. newton geiszler,
- dr. temperance brennan,
- ed grayson,
- eleven,
- ellie,
- evan sabahnur,
- fenn havers-croft,
- firo prochainezo,
- george lass,
- gren,
- harlan halliday,
- henry percy,
- jo harvelle,
- kravitz,
- laura palmer,
- lup,
- maglor,
- magnus burnsides,
- maketh tua,
- margaery tyrell,
- mello,
- merle highchurch,
- mettaton,
- michael munroe,
- nah,
- nathan drake,
- nick rivenna,
- nico di angelo,
- oscar,
- ravine,
- rey,
- saber,
- sansa stark,
- trafalgar law,
- tucker,
- will graham,
- yehudit/ravine,
- yusuke kitagawa
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.
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.
cw: suicidal ideation
He hears the words and cannot but agree. He's right! He cannot just tell him so, the words are still stuck down his throat. Apologies, threats even, all lost under the smoke of that town he never saw, not like this anyway. And no matter how far they are, he can hear him, he can hear the muffled sobs of the child, of the man in front of him.
There is an incredible amount of remorse in those eyes, pleading for something he doesn't deserve. But the Pharaoh looks away a moment later, not out of shame, however, he glances over the abyss down them, locking eyes again with the Bandit.
"Drop me..."
It's a raspy, pitiful sound what comes out of him, imploring and pathetic.
"Drop me, Bakura..."
no subject
It disgusts and angers him both.
"You don't get to have it so easy." He shoves Atem away from him, not over the side of the cliff but back and into the sand and rock. Why should the Pharaoh be granted an easy, painless death, the noble sacrifice he so clearly seems to want to be? Life doesn't work like that; life hadn't spared the innocent lives lost (or the innocence of a child lost) to the massacre.
He stalks over to the Pharaoh, one knee finding the ground near the other man.
"Where's your talk now, of justice and right? Can't you make those speeches without the souls of my people hanging around your neck?"
no subject
It is not hard at all to toss the little Pharaoh in such way, his small frame being almost perfect for the task, making him stumble over the land and make him scrape the side of his face, his arm, his leg. It hurts, but nothing would compare to the pain all this suffering brings him.
He doesn't get up immediately, propping himself up on an elbow and looking up at Bakura again. There goes the little speech and Atem drives a hand down to his chest, trying to find something that hasn't been there for a long time. The Puzzle did not come with him, it's been lost ever since he then, since that day. Atem bites the inside of his lower lip, hard, he's truly nothing without it... Just a regular man.
"What do you want, Bakura...? I'm here now, I'm alone." In every meaning of the word, "Wasn't this what you wanted?"
no subject
The ground is hard under his knees, the rock and sand warm from the day and from the fires, but he doesn't care. What matters is the Pharaoh, that detestable presence who looks up at him with such deep eyes. Why is he even here? To taunt the thief? To feel the emotions that Bakura has long since blocked out of himself? To be a beautiful little sacrifice, offering himself up when he knows it'll do no good?
"And let you ascend to the afterlife?" The words are growled out, angry and bitter. "A paradise my people will never know?"
no subject
That insanity, it started here.
Should Atem let him know that he will probably never reach the afterlife? That he's stuck in a godforsaken place, and with him, of all people?
"Then what? What is it that you want from me?" Does he even know? Atem's voice finally seems to be recovering its bite.
no subject
All of his efforts had been in vain, and that stings deeper than any hurt he's ever felt.
"The only thing I want is something you can't give me." There's a long, wailing scream from the village below and the thief can't entirely hide the shiver that runs up his spine because of it. Everything is so real, the dream memory as vivid as the day it had actually happened. He pushes up from the ground, away from the Pharaoh to stand once more at the edge of the cliff. That scream belonged to his mother; he knows what happens now.
"They call you a god, build you up into this powerful being, but you're nothing more than a lie."
no subject
The scream fills the dream and makes Atem shrink, he closes his eyes, momentarily until it's passed.
Finally picking himself up, Atem stares at Bakura. Somehow, he firmly believes he should be dead, that Bakura should have killed him, and that maybe he's just keeping him there so he suffers through what as he had to, making him listen and see and feel his pain. It makes sense, but at the same time it doesn't, given how much he seems to hate seeing the Pharaoh defiling his most important memory.
"You're right. Is it what you want to hear me say?"
no subject
There's bitterness in his voice, wrapped around a hurt he's trying to deny he feels. What use is there to kill the Pharaoh? It can't change what happened to his people — and with his luck and how he's been forced to relive this dream over and over, chances are the Pharaoh would just come back with it.
He really, really doesn't want to deal with it if that's the case.
But he'd never say that, never dare admit anything close to a weakness to the other man. It's bad enough that the Pharaoh not only saw the memory, but that he expressed emotion for it. What right does he have to feel?
"What does a village of thieves mean to a king, anyway?" His only defense right now is his anger, his only weapon his words.
no subject
"Nothing." He answers truthfully, what good would it bring to lie to him anyway?
no subject
The words are harsh, barbed at the edges with the force of the Thief's rage. It's a rage that has sustained him for a long time, a rage that flares white hot under the influence of this strange place, influenced by Demons of which he knows nothing, by days spent running and fighting in a network of twisting, confusing caves. It takes a great effort to remain still, to not shake with the anger that runs through him.
Finally he turns from the scene below; he knows in exacting detail what had happened to his mother once the soldiers had caught up to her. There's little need to watch it again, not when he's watched and rewatched it so many times. He remembers little enough about her: her dark hair, her brown skin, the way she screamed in fear and pain.
He has no weapons here save his hands and his words; therefore the latter must cut sharp and deep. "Your kingdom was built on the death of my people. Your legacy isn't peace or the salvation of Kemet. It's genocide."
no subject
It all seems... suddenly so useless. Why do they keep fighting over the past?
"When did I lie to you, Bakura?"
He tells him he wants him gone, but he's still here, he cannot leave.
no subject
His arm swings toward that edge, pointing and drawing attention not only to the cliff, but the ruin of Kul Elna and the fires and screams that still fill the desert night. Their argument has not stopped the scene for progressing, has not stopped bodies from being carried into the foul work space to be melted into gold trinkets for the royal court.
"Yet a village means nothing to you. So which is the truth then, false king? Your remorse, or your apathy?"
no subject
He tries, he reaches for him as far as he can, with his words, as he has before.
Can't he really see it? That his pain hurts him as well? Sure, of course, he will never know how was it to lose it all, in the way that Bakura did, only here he had been so close to feel it in the flesh, but... It does, his pain hurts the Pharaoh's soul. It is a reminder that everything he had ever believed in was but a lie. This sin had made his father sick, it had killed him, and Atem is sure, without a shadow of a doubt, if circumstances had been different for them all, that if he had let the terrible truth sink in, it would have killed him too.
no subject
Which honestly surprise the thief; have their conversations ever been anything but full of traps and barbs? It's no different from their duels. But he also finds that he can't care too much for the answer; he's little enough energy that isn't being taken up in the burning rage and the terrible, deep sorrow caused by the scene below.
To relive this same memory every night is almost more than he can take. His nerves are frayed enough from this strange place and from the fight for survival. For sleep to be less than restful is not exactly helpful.
no subject
What can the Pharaoh tell him that covers and soothes what the Thief is feeling right now, that makes Atem feel better himself when he feels like dropping himself off that cliff anyway? The screams make him feel sick still, do they make feel Bakura anything else nowadays, he wonders, other than hate?
Atem wants out this dream so badly he wouldn't mind doing it by himself, not even asking Bakura to do it, he's got enough in his plate already after all--
ah, of course...
Without thinking about it twice, Atem gathers the courage and springs towards Bakura, tackling the taller man down towards the cliff, and the Pharaoh doesn't let go, he goes down with him.
It is a long way down...
Seconds later he can feel it, the absolute dread down his stomach as he wakes, sitting up and gasping heavily, drenched in his own sweat.
He's here...
no subject
"You fool!" Though it's unclear if he's referring to the Pharaoh or himself, truly. Still, it galls him that his last moments are to be in the arms of his greatest enemy and one hand finally finds that slim throat, locking around it so he can stare fiercely into the eyes of his nemesis, seconds before they're to hit the sharp rocks below.
He'll never forgive you, Pharaoh. Never.