ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴅᴛᴇᴀᴍ ᴏғ ʜᴀᴅʀɪᴇʟ (
hadrielmods) wrote in
hadriel_logs2016-05-16 10:28 am
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Entry tags:
- !event,
- adam parrish,
- agent new york,
- ai ebihara,
- amos kamiya,
- arya stark,
- bianca,
- carlisle longinmouth,
- castiel,
- chris,
- damianos of akielos,
- dean winchester,
- emily,
- firo prochainezo,
- gansey,
- gojyo sha,
- gren,
- inquisitor trevelyan,
- krieg,
- lilith,
- lucifer,
- maketh tua,
- mello,
- miriam day,
- nick rivenna,
- nick valentine,
- noah czerny,
- pell,
- rey,
- shadow the hedgehog
Event Log: Dreamwalker
Who: Everyone!
What: The Dreamwalker event
Where: In your comfy bed and your sleepy head.
When: May 16th-26th
Warnings: Good dreams, weird dreams, bad dreams, straight-up nightmares. Please remember to tag for warnings in the header if things are going to be bad!
What: The Dreamwalker event
Where: In your comfy bed and your sleepy head.
When: May 16th-26th
Warnings: Good dreams, weird dreams, bad dreams, straight-up nightmares. Please remember to tag for warnings in the header if things are going to be bad!
Have you been having trouble getting a good night's sleep? Tossing and turning, unable to rest those tired eyes? Or maybe you don't sleep at all, and never have. Not to worry! For a little while, you'll have no trouble at all falling asleep - in fact, as night falls, you'll find yourself overwhelmed with exhaustion whether you want to sleep or not. Lay down and rest your weary head, friends. Everyone could use a little extra sleep.
But what will your dreams bring? Something happy, images of a perfect day? Something hopeful, something you've wanted for a long time? Maybe you'll dream of anger, of the face of your worst enemy. Or maybe - just maybe - you'll have a horrific nightmare, and wake screaming, covered in cold sweat.
Not before others have time to see it, though. As you sleep, as you dream, the other residents of Hadriel, friends and enemies and people you've only met once, might find their way into your dreams. Or you might find your way into theirs - and then have to deal with someone's else's nightmares, or hopes, or anger. For the next ten nights, you'll find yourself either a host or a visitor, and no matter how you try you won't be able to stay awake once night falls.
Sweet dreams, Hadriel. Don't let the asshole fear gods bite.► This log covers May 16th-26th.
► 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!
► You can't die in the dreams, but if you somehow manage to trip and fall and kill yourself getting out of bed, please report it on the death post.
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Enough of this.
She's not afraid, oddly enough. Disturbed in a quiet sort of way, but not afraid.
"Well I can't leave," Maketh snaps. She tries to soften her voice. "Rey. I...if you look at me, I'll...I'll tell you something nice. Okay? I won't touch you. But I'll tell you a story. You just have to look at me, okay?"
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Hands lowering from her face, blood drips down her jaw and into her palms. She blinks at the red smears across her skin, the marks on her face stinging. It hurts, but it's a welcome hurt. A pain that she needs to feel.
It's where her gaze is focused, narrowing at the display in front of her rather than the other woman in the bathroom.
"Sugar and spice, and everything nice," Rey says, her mouth moving this time but her words are small and distant and barely audible. "But we don't deserve the sweets. We haven't earned it. You have to earn it."
She winces, the pain in her face now throbbing, aching her skull.
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Maketh huffs. "Then why are you bleeding, if you haven't earned something?"
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Rey's eyes widen, as more blood drips from her face to her fingers, some droplets splashing over the once-pristine tiles. She notices her trembling hands, and there's nothing she can do to stop it.
Her jaw locks up. "We earn this. Had to cut the stranger out. No other way." She glances to the remaining shards in the mirror, watching the crazed image of herself staring back at her. "He was killing us."
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The cuts need to be cleaned, stitched, else there's really no point at all. Maketh understands the need to make a scar, sometimes, though she won't admit it easily. But it won't matter at all if you die first.
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Gradually she feels her mind pulling apart, noticing the cracks in this reality. Mostly in that this isn't reality at all. It's a sham.
"There's nothing to see here. There's nothing left to see." The words trickle from her mouth like water.
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"Everyone lies. Makes promises they can't keep." Her bloody fingers tighten against the side of her head. "Including me..."
Her arm drops to her side as she slumps against the wall in what appears to be a defeated posture.
"It won't stop." Whether she's talking about the flow of blood or something else, it's hard to say. Both are likely, though.
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How is this done? There must be a protocol she's forgetting. Maketh sinks to her knees, bare feet slipping against the blood on the tiles. This room isn't right at all - it shouldn't exist, can't possibly exist as it seems - but for the moment it's kept Rey from bolting.
Perhaps that's something.
Maketh takes a breath, and then reaches out, patting Rey's arm. It's not good to be this close, it's dangerous, Rey might hurt her - could kill her so easily. But it's important not to get lose.
And there's so much blood already.
"It will. It's going to clot," Maketh tells her softly. "Rey?"
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This isn't, though. Not like this. She should take control somehow. Push Maketh out and let things play out as they ought to.
But everything is beyond her control now, just as it's always been. What makes her think that this would be any different?
"Med supplies..."
...in the mirror.
Thanks, strange and disembodied Rey-voice.
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This room should not exist as it does. And yet here they stand.
Maketh pulls the mirror back, finds gauze and rubbing alcohol and even - to her great surprise - a tube of topical bacta gel. The kind with the numbing agent, so it doesn't hurt when you apply it.
Small mercies. Maketh bows her head, catching her breath for a moment, before she kneels back down. "Rey. Can I touch you, Rey?"
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If she could press herself any more to the wall, she would have. She would have slipped through and disappeared from this space entirely, leaving Maketh behind to deal with the mess.
"No... N-no, I-- I-I..."
It just slips out without her meaning to.
it hurts want it to stop
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Shit. None of this should be possible. It's all in her head, right? That is, ironically, the one thing that makes the most sense in this senseless place.
"Do you really think it'll make any difference?" Rey asks Maketh, her voice lower this time. The madness somewhat devoured. More lucid. Awake. But she is, of course, still asleep.
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"Of course." She struggles to keep her hands pried from her face, as she tilts her head slightly toward Maketh. Still doesn't quite make eye contact. "Why does it matter to you so much?"
But 'it' she really means Rey herself.
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Rey doesn't even know if she's technically the same person she's always been, or if she's just copies of copies, written over each other.
That's also what makes this moment substantial. Why part of her is still stuck within these four blood-splattered walls.
This was where she had decided to end that cycle of living to die. She just needed her face back.
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"Don't even know who 'this' me is. If there's such a thing. We're all..." She brings a hand to her gashed up face, the pain still very real despite the rest of this being not. "We're all just one package now. Needed to find something in all of that. Find that one constant."
And that was her scars. No matter who she was, she always had the scars. That's who Rey is -- at least, according to her.
"I know how all of this must look to you." Her tone changes again. Deeper. More like-human.
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Even if the reason itself is also fucked up.
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She does force herself to look at Maketh, giving her free reign to do what she wants.
"Fine."
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She lifts her chin. "I'm going to apply the gel, okay? It works fast. I don't even have to clean anything, isn't that nice? You'll feel a chill, but that's normal. It means it's working. Okay?"
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it was so tempting to type "the cold never bothered me anyway."
bwhahahahah
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