hadriel_logs | 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!

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.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Oh my god.

[Emily's voice comes from behind Carlisle, where she stands with her arms crossed, a scowl darkening her gaze.

This is a disaster.]

Oh, honey, you're so lucky I'm here. Come on. You need a wardrobe update.

[She doesn't wait for a response, just puts a hand on his shoulder and steers him into the nearest store, which is full of suits and button-downs and ties and designer casual clothes, all in Carlisle's size and in colors that will look good on him. Along the far wall are shoes and other accessories.]

So you're like, a doctor, right? [He fixed Chris's leg, after all.] You're gonna need a lot of nice shirts.

[This time, she doesn't guide him anywhere. It's his turn now, to pick a color or a pattern he likes and grab a few shirts to try on.]

[He doesn't even get a word in as she drags him into a store full of clothes that are shocking all about his size (tall, lanky), but absolutely not in styles he agrees with... which is probably one reason he isn't exactly the most fashionable individual.]

It's a cleric, not a doctor, but -- wait, have we met?

[He just kind of stands awkwardly among the racks, unaware he's supposed to be picking anything.]

[Oh, god, he's like a lost puppy.] Chris told me you fixed his leg, so I sort of figured you did something with medicine or healing or whatever.

Go on. Pick something. [She gives him a somewhat gentle shove forward, then walks to the rack in front of him.

The first button-down her fingers touch is olive green, so she plucks it from the rack and holds it up to him.] I like this. It's a good color on you. There are tons here, though, so grab as many as you want.

[There's an empty rack with wheels on the bottom right next to her (where did it come from? nobody knows), so she hangs the olive green one there and nods at Carlisle.] Don't be shy, the clothes don't bite, and you're not paying for any of it.

[About a dozen thoughts cross his mind all at once, everything ranging from Chris told you about me? to I am fairly sure clothes can bite if they're a mimic in disguise,, but one makes it to his mouth before all the rest.]

I really only wear blue.

Fine. [She tosses the shirt aside, and like magic, there's a blue one within reach.] Here. Try some button-downs too, you'll look more professional that way. Less... I dunno, priestly.

[He takes the blue shirt, thinking he should ask where it came from, but sure he's going to make her angry if he does. Instead, he eyes the pants. Please don't make him pick any of these, Emily.]

I probably should look priestly. I'm a cleric.

You know there are, like, loose-fitting pants that still look kind of monkish, right?

[She nods at the rack behind him, which is full of exactly that: loose-fitting, comfortable pants in all sorts of high quality fabrics, all different shades of blue.]

But I'm not a monk. And there's nothing wrong with the pants I'm wearing.

[And this is probably why no one ever takes him shopping.]

Oh my god, no one cares if you're a monk or a cleric or a priest or a goddamn pimp. And your pants are ugly. At least get some of the same kind made from good fabric.

[Which, naturally, the dream will provide if he searches for them.]

[That's both rude and intimidating enough that Carlisle meanders over to the rack of pants. There are some that are loose-fitting, but none that look exactly like what he's after. He gets the feeling he'd better not come back to her empty-handed though.

So he grabs a pair of khaki slacks and tries not to frown as he holds them up for her approval.]

Better.

[There's literally nothing in this mall that she would dislike, so good on you, Carlisle.

However.]

Look, if you're just gonna be miserable, wake up. I don't have time for anyone who's not here to have fun.

[His fingers curl around the hanger. Welp, looks like he's a failure at fashion, and now he's aware of it.]

I'm loath to admit that I'm not sure how to do that.

[Cheer up, Carlisle. It's not that you're a failure so much as your clothes are really, really bland. But maybe that works for you clerics, Emily wouldn't really know.]

Aren't you supposed to be good at, like, all things supernatural? [Then again, it's her dream, so...

Okay. She walks up to him, takes the hanger out of his hand, and sighs.] Nice try. Now, wake up.

[And maybe because it's Delight's influence that's fueling this dream, it's that simple. The dream ends -- for him, anyway. Emily still has shopping to do.]

[He'd argue that dreams and the supernatural are two very different things, but he doesn't get the chance -- not that he isn't thankful to be out of there. Time to put "shopping malls" on his list of places to never go. It's a long list.

Sorry, Emily. Maybe he'll be better next time he crosses paths with you. His clothes will still be bland, though. That's just how he likes them.]

Event Log: Dreamwalker

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