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

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<Stars, there are so many. Maketh covers her face as best she can with her sleeve. The smell catches her anyway. It gets caught in her throat and lingers there, far too heavy. Maketh breathes out slowly, counting the seconds, and isn't sick on the floor. She can't throw up on a corpse. It would make things spiral.

The smell doesn't appear to bother Rey. None of this does. She just forges ahead, blank-faced, and Maketh hurries to keep up.

But being still doesn't mean it doesn't hurt.

They stop in front of a mess, bites and pieces of a thing that used to be--

It coughs.

Maketh jerks back, hand going to her mouth. It can't--

No, that's not possible.

She goes down to the dying woman, trying to find a pulse. There's so much blood, so much damage - she can't be alive, not like this, not in so many pieces - but there it is, there's a pulse under her fingers, butterfly weak.

"Rey, what...what do I do?" Maketh murmurs. "I can't...I can't fix this."

Fingers balling into a fist, Rey's jaw clenches. She's never really seen herself like this before, and it's strange. Is this how it happened, or is she just imagining things this way?

She barely pays attention when Maketh moves to her other self's side. Her fingers tighten.

"You can't fix this," she agrees. "She is going to die, but not from her injuries."

Which means they don't have much choice but to keep moving. Water begins pouring from the walls, washing the blood across the floor and pushing the corpses a little. Can they die here? Rey would rather not stick around to find out. It isn't just her life that's at stake here.

"No, you...."

But it's not Rey. Not anymore. This woman, torn to pieces and reduced to bloody meat, is not Rey. Maketh runs a hand through her hair, getting blood on her face. She doesn't notice. Water is beginning to pool on the ground, and Maketh thinks again of how much she doesn't want to drown. "Snap her neck. Please. Let her die quickly."

She remembers what it's like, to drown. It wasn't a pleasant experience. Though, neither was being shot and stabbed full of hundreds of holes. Rey can feel what it's like for her other self. Her dead self. Hear her screaming in her own head.

Make it stop.

As the water rises, Rey kneels down beside Silva, wrapping her fingers around what had once been her own skinny little neck, bloodied and marred much like the rest of her. The scars on her face are almost indistinguishable from the rest of her injuries.

With a twist, she breaks the spinal column, putting an end to the choking sounds and the slight movement.

Rey straightens herself and looks ahead. There is a door with ice coating it, just down the corridor.

"We should go."

Whether they would actually die in this place or not, she'd rather not stay to find out. It may be a dream, but the threat of it feels very real.

Maketh flinches at the sound. She can't help it, can't hide it in time.

This would be a horrible place to die.

She stands up as quickly as she can, trying to ignore the blood on her face. "Go where, Rey?"

It was a horrible place to die. Cold and alone and in total agony. Rey avoids looking at her own dead face and remembering those final moments, before moving to wade through the water. It rises up to their knees, and then to the waists by the time she is halfway down the metal hallway.

"Don't know," she confesses. "But anything is sure as hell better than staying in this sinking shithole."

The icy door isn't much farther away now...

The water is horribly cold and Maketh flinches every time something bumps against her in the dark. Bodies, she thinks. There are so many dead. A massacre.

It doesn't matter. They have to move on. Maketh shivers, pushing forward, and stays as close to Rey as she can. "I don't want to drown. Do you understand?"

Rey ought to. It's not so different from her previous request.

"No worries. I'm not going to let you drown."

They're not just words. It's a promise. One that she means to keep as she grabs hold of the valve over the door, twisting it and pulling it farther ajar.

It comes open. On the other side is snow, which would certainly explain the ice.

Feels like there is no end to this.

"...how is there snow?" Maketh wonders. Everything about this place is horrible and defies her logic. Nothing works as it ought to, and yet here they stand. Rey snapped the neck of a past life, Maketh applied bacta gel to this one's weeping cuts, and they're wet with sea water and the blood of dead men.

This place shouldn't be possible.

How is there anything in this place? It's not as if dreams work like they do in reality, and Rey is pretty certain that that's what this is. Much of her cognizant thinking is returning to whisper some sense into her.

Even stranger is that it's damned ice cold. Their legs are soaked and Rey isn't shivering or hypothermic.

Currently there isn't much to go off on to determine where they were. Rey steps forward, away from the ship door for just there in the middle of an icy, mountainous wasteland.

"Stay close if you get too cold." Rey says this because she isn't cold herself. Not when her body begins generating enough heat to melt the snow surrounding her feet.

Maketh rubs her hands together furiously. Unlike Rey, she's feeling the cold - enough that it hurts her joints and she's beginning to think back to her Academy lessons on hypothermia. But when she moves closer to Rey, the cold seems to shrink back.

The snow is melting around Rey's feet.

That--

Maketh just shakes her head. "I don't understand any of this."

The melting snow is about the least confounding thing to Rey. But then, being able to radiate heat and energy isn't anything new to her. It probably is to Maketh, though.

Her mind is a funny place like that. When she glances to the door they had come into this place from, it's gone. Still not too weird.

Dead grass appears from under the melted snow beneath Rey's bare feet. Eventually, she slows to a stop before an icy cliffside, overlooking miles upon miles of pure white under an overcast sky.

"Think I know where this is. I can remember it," Rey realizes, catching a glimpse of tiny dots moving along the stretch of land, lower along the mountain.

It looks like a patrol unit from a distance. Uniformed people matching across the treacherous landscape.

Now they're standing outside, not risking death in a doomed ship. Maketh pushes her bangs out of her face, frowning. She's seen snow before, of course, but this place is unfamiliar to her. The fact that she can see something approaching on the horizon is no comfort, though.

Maketh checks her belt again, just in case.

Still no weapons. Wonderful.

"Are we in danger?"

Her eyes narrow.

"Not from here, no."

She can't say the same for that unit. Because, just then, the land erupts. Snow plumes outward, as landmines activate, throwing those tiny bodies apart from one another. Spilling red across the white.

Despite the abruptness of the event, Rey doesn't even flinch.

Event Log: Dreamwalker

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