Event Log: Dreamwalker the Second

[hadrielmods]

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.

Comments

[murderpotato]

Everyone, really, has had a shitty life in one way or another, to some extent. He and Wade have just had more than their fair share of shit, and that's just how it goes. Sometimes it's their own fault, sometimes it isn't, but either way, and you just have to take it. It hurts and it sucks and the universe is a cold, uncaring void and then (probably) you die.

Wade has an idea, though, of the fucking mess that's churning around in his gut, anger and grief and guilt-- even though he could blame Wolf for never saving Lily, he didn't save her either. The knowledge of it eats at him, burns a hole in his stomach and there isn't enough liquor that he could pour down his throat to stop it.

Unintentional or not, Wade's hand is warm on his. He doesn't let very many people touch him, but it's sort of comforting, and he shifts his hand under Wade's palm to grip it back. He turns his face away, towards the fence, and feels it go all hot and tight and his throat get thick and he hates this. He doesn't want Wade to see the way his shoulders shake or his breath shudders or how hard he has to screw his eyes shut. It takes a few long, shaky breaths to get himself back under something like control.

"They got rid of her before we could get her," he says, and his voice only cracks a little. "That's why there's no fuckin' body."

[ishotyouuu]

Wade remembers the first time he'd seen Travis cry, how it had surprised him. Though enough time had passed that he was able to see the depths hidden under that cocksure assassin's demeanor, he'd thought Travis was too swept up in testosterone poisoning to even think of crying in public. To see him unabashedly break down the way he had was a shock to Wade, and he can't say he doesn't feel a bit of that same surprise now.

This sort of loss has hurt Gren; gutted him in ways that even an ocean of alcohol can't numb, and Wade would be lying if he said he didn't sort of understand that feeling. The unfairness of everyday life. The grief of losing someone special. The wish that you had been taken instead.

Still gripping Gren's hand, Wade reaches out with his other hand to grip the other man's shoulder in an attempt to lend Gren just a little bit of his warmth. For once, he's without words. It would only spoil the moment. It's just the two of them here, on a cold New York night, reopening old wounds that haven't fully healed yet.

[murderpotato]

All Gren wants, at the end of the day, is for the people that he cares about to be safe and happy. Gren rarely gets what he wants, though, either by his own fault or because of things well outside of his control. He isn't very good at saving anyone, but well... he is the monster.

Wade's other hand rests heavily on his shoulder, and he's not sure what it is about that touch that sets him off. Maybe it's because it's kind, and he's never been good at accepting kindnesses. Maybe it's because it's gentle, and, for all that it's a stupid fucking metaphor, he feels like he's got a glass heart in his chest. Either way, Gren hunches in on himself and pulls his hand out from underneath Wade's to bring it up to his face. The shaking is back and it's worse this time, long shudders that go through his whole stupid body.

One hand isn't enough to hide his face or how splotchy and red it's gotten, but he tries anyway. His throat feels like something's gotten stuck in it and when he tries to take a breath, he makes a noise like a wounded animal. He can't grit his teeth hard enough to make it stop. There's wetness on his palm and down his cheeks and he hates this, he hates everything about this. He hates the noises that he makes and how his entire chest feels like a giant raw wound, worse than when he took a goddamn shotgun slug to it. He especially hates that it's happening in front of Wade, all this unignorable ugly sobbing.

[ishotyouuu]

It's not pleasant, the sound that is coming out of Gren right now-- he is not, as they say, a pretty crier. It's the sort of sounds a wounded animal would make, after it had been hit by a car or attacked by a predator, attempting to limp away to a place safe and secure but unable to keep from letting the entire world know that it had been hurt. It sounds like something unused to making such noises; someone who had borne the pain for as long as they could but couldn't stop their emotions from escaping this time.

His hand feels empty and cold without Gren's to hold. Before Wade realizes what he's doing, the hand upon the other man's shoulder slowly settles on his back, rubbing in gentle, tight little circles as Gren gives full vent to his grief, pangs of empathy lancing through his chest with every single sob that escapes the other man's throat.

He doesn't say anything. There's nothing he could say that would make this any easier. All he can think of to do is just stay with Gren; to weather the storm raging inside him until it finally burns itself out.

[murderpotato]

Gren's not much of a pretty anything, and especially not a pretty crier. His face gets all red and splotchy and scrunches up in a way that's definitely unattractive as he tries to smother it. The noises that he makes are ugly. Everything about him is ugly and raw and painful.

Wade's hand is warm and gentle on his back, rubbing slow circles as he hunches further. He's almost bent in half, like that's the only way that he'd be able to hide the mess that he is right now. Gren would give any goddamn amount of money to not be here right now, to be anywhere that he could do this stupid wounded animal bullshit without Wade watching. That's what makes it worse-- that Wade can see him like this, crying and shaking and weak.

It stops, eventually, as all things do-- sort of peters out into exhaustion, until Gren feels like a wrung-out cloth. Eyes stinging, throat sore, still shaking a little from both the effort of crying and trying to contain it. He doesn't want to uncurl yet, because that means that he'd have to actually face Wade and he's not sure if he could do that when he looks like this. After Wade's seen him like this.

[ishotyouuu]

He can feel Gren trembling underneath his hand, and something about it-- about the vulnerability and the vain attempt to rein the tears in-- causes Wade's heart to squeeze painfully inside his chest. Gren looks naked like this, eyes reddened and still moist from his outburst, his lips pressed tightly together, shaking with the effort of holding back another outburst the way someone might try to stave off vomiting. Wade can't say he doesn't know what that feels like.

For once the Merc with a Mouth is completely silent as Gren's crying sniffles to a close. To draw attention to Gren's loss of control would be to cause him no small measure of embarrassment, he knows. He merely keeps his hand positioned on the other man's shoulder, giving it a squeeze to indicate to him that-- in some small way-- Wade understands what he's going through. That there will be no judgments should Gren decide to face him like this.