Event Log: Dreamwalker

[hadrielmods]

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.

Comments

[circumitus]

"That I have to be a fucked up crazy person who did a fucked up thing for no reason."

Even if the reason itself is also fucked up.

[mismanagement]

Maketh huffs. "You're hardly the first to do that. It doesn't mean you have to be in pain, all right? Just let me put this on your face."

[circumitus]

Jaw clenched, Rey's eyes harden for a moment. "Don't pretend that this is normal. I know that this isn't normal, even for crazy people."

She does force herself to look at Maketh, giving her free reign to do what she wants.

"Fine."

[mismanagement]

Maketh snorts, not quite a laugh. "Nothing about this is normal. But that hardly means you're the only one."

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?"

[circumitus]

True, self-destructive tendencies is hardly a nuanced concept limited to Rey. It still doesn't sit right with her. But then, neither does bleeding excessively from the face. That doesn't do any good for anyone.

"Okay." Her fists clench, fighting just to stay still and not push Maketh away instead.

[mismanagement]

Maketh feels some of the tension drop from her shoulders. Okay. This is the first step. There's a protocol forming in her head. If she can follow it down to the end, then everything will be fine. She squeezes some of the bacta gel onto her fingers and swipes at the cut on Rey's chin. Best to get it down quickly.] It's going to be cold, like I said. That's okay. That means it's working.

it was so tempting to type "the cold never bothered me anyway."

[circumitus]

"No worries. Have always been used to the cold."

Rey is not only resilient to heat, the inner warmth also prevents her from freezing. It was quite the boon when hazarding the Russian winters.

That said, she's calm as Maketh applies the gel, unmoving despite the pain searing her flesh.

bwhahahahah

[mismanagement]

Maketh concentrates on her task, slowing her breathing so her hands won't shake. Keep it steady. Simple motions, always following the line of the cut and never working against it. Make sure to get the gel both inside and around the wound. Ignore the blood unless it might be hiding something underneath. Her hands are getting filthy, but she has no gloves. It can't be helped. "It should be working by now. Just a little longer. I'm almost done."

The Empire has invented excellent medical care, if nothing else.

[circumitus]

"Just do what you have to."

Which, from where Rey is, isn't something that's necessary at all. None of this is playing out like it's supposed to. Who's to say that it'll make any difference?

Still, she's tired. She's tired of fighting. She spent four years fighting with herself that she just doesn't have it in her to endure the external struggles right now. Especially when it's Maketh.

[mismanagement]

"Don't be dramatic," Maketh murmurs. It's just a little tease, something to lighten the moment. "I'm almost done."

Just a few more swipes and then that will be the end of it. The gel will dissolve most of the spent blood, if it works how it ought to, and the cuts will begin to close on their own.

[circumitus]

When it comes to her face, it's hard not to be a little dramatic.

Even when it's done, blood dissolved and open wounds mended, somehow the scar tissue remains, leaving Rey's face as marred as Maketh has always seen. She knows this, but touches her cheek afterwards anyway to ensure that the marks are still there. Right where she left them.

Good.

"That's it?"

[mismanagement]

"For now."

Maketh sits back on her heels, examining her work. It's not perfect, but it ought to be enough. It's still going to scar. "It's stopped hurting, right?"

[circumitus]

The fact that it's going to scar is a ship that's already sailed, and can never be undone. At least, Rey certainly hopes so.

"It never hurt in the first place. Not in the way you'd think."

[mismanagement]

Maketh rocks back on her heels with a frown. "What do you mean?"

[circumitus]

"It made things... better. Clearer. I know that sounds bad, but things really didn't start to get better until after..."

She can't even finish that thought in a way that doesn't sound just as fucked up as all of this is.

[mismanagement]

Maketh is quiet for a moment. "I think, sometimes...sometimes you have to break a little, before it gets better. Something like that."

It's been like that for her. But then, she's never had to endure what Rey has. One life after another, one death in a long series of them.

[circumitus]

"Yes, sometimes..." Rey starts, but then her words trail when she glances out her peripheral vision, towards the space next to her. "Wait. Hang on."

Slowly, she starts to rise to her feet, bringing her hand to a crack in the wall.

[mismanagement]

"What? What's happening?"

Maketh pushes herself up awkwardly, bracing against the wall.

[circumitus]

Drawing her hand down the wall, Rey pushes forward. A piece of tile snaps off, breaking across the floor.

"Thought this wall looked strange," she says as she applies more pressure to the crumbly surface.

Still. It's a way out, perhaps? She'd certainly love to be free of this horrible cramped place.

[mismanagement]

The wall might not be as solid as it first looked. Maketh takes a cautious step forward, frowning. "All right. Move over."

It'll go faster with both of them working.

[circumitus]

Rey does so, giving some space for Maketh as she shoves her weight forward to add more strain to the wall.

More and more, pieces begin to collapse to the ground, inviting a freezing draft into the bathroom.

Suddenly, the area starts to get very, very cold... but Rey doesn't relent.

[mismanagement]

This shouldn't be possible. Nothing about this place works as it ought to. There was bacta gel behind the mirror, a voice booming through her head -- too much. The logic doesn't track. None of that changes the fact that they're standing next to each other - her and Rey - and that they have a task to complete.

It must be done, so Maketh throws her weight into it.

"Do you know where we are?" she asks finally, fighting the urge to let her teeth chatter.

[circumitus]

When the tiles and concrete fall into piles of rubble, a long and metal corridor is revealed on the other side. Pipes encompass the walls and ceiling above them, with a long grated flooring below. Steam rises from all sides -- the ground, the walls, and some from overhead.

Water drips from the pipes, as Rey takes a step closer, her bare feet scuffling across the grating metal.

Despite that, it's incredibly, mind numbingly cold here.

"The Salomon," she replies, not much bothered by the temperature. "It was a super carrier for the Navy SEALs -- before it was sunk."

With that, water continues to pour inward from their sides.

Rey looks up. "Was on it when it went under."

[mismanagement]

A submarine of some sort. Maketh frowns, reaching out to touch the walls. Her hand comes away damp, though surprisingly she isn't burned by the steam. The amount of water coming in worries her, though. "Are we underwater right now?"

Of all the ways to die, she doesn't fancy drowning.

[circumitus]

Drowning sucks. Rey knows this, because that's what happened to her on the Salomon.

The hallway gives a jerk. Metal whines upon metal, as the whole ship groans. It's a haunting sound. One that Rey now remembers well.

"Yes." She approaches a heavy, reinforced door at the end of the long hall, left cracked open. As she pushes it open a little, another room full of blood and bullet holes is revealed. The air reeks of death.

A massacre had happened here.