hadriel_logs | Event Log: Dreamwalker

Entry tags:

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

Firo’s listening closely for any more tanks or strange noises, but he keeps one ear attuned to her steps to follow them. It occurs to him that there could be any number of traps lurking in the darkness, but what can he do? It’s pointless to worry about it—either she knows what to look for or she doesn’t.

“No civilians? So who lives here, huh? Just soldiers?”

He finds that hard to believe—they haven’t seen a single shady bar or nightclub, and those always do well where there are soldiers or sailors. Not that he’s disappointed not to see such things.

No shady bars or nightclubs here. Not in the tunnels, at least. The AUC is vast, though -- they've barely scraped the edge of it.

"Researchers and the like," she replies curtly. "Heard that they have living quarters for their families down here, too."

Hard to think that anyone would bring their family in this place, but most of the researchers weren't allowed to return home. Someone must've thought that it'd be easier that way.

She slows down to a stop when they reach an opening. More lights illuminate the tunnel, revealing what appears to be some sort of subway system.

"This is it."

Seriously? Firo can easily imagine someone like Szilard letting themselves be holed up in here, but whole families? He shakes his head. “Nice place to bring up a family.”

“Wow.” Firo looks up and down the length of the tunnel before them. It looks almost like the trains and the like back home.

“I don’t have any change for fare.” By which he means, how the hell are they going to sneak onto this thing?

"Not... really."

Sorry, Firo. Your sarcasm may have just been lost on her.

She steps onto a narrow walkway, usually reserved for the maintenance staff when they need to work on the tunnels. The lighting leaves something to be desired, given how dim it is here.

"Don't need a fare." She points to her left and keeps walking in that direction, her footfalls and voice echoing off the concrete walls. "There's a security checkpoint up ahead where supply cars are supposed to stop. It was supposed to be an alternate escape route when leaving this place the first time, in case the original plan didn't pan out."

Implying that this isn't the first time she's ever made it this far.

It’s not every day that Firo, not the best-adjusted person himself, realizes that someone else is completely socially tone-deaf. He does with this lady, though. …And, actually, it reminds him of someone. He files that remark away for later. The rest of what she’s saying is more important than reflecting on friends.

He glances around as he follows. “What happened the first time?”

That explains how even a lady in a cage knew to get around so well—though Firo’d initially assumed that she’d simply been free before being condemned, so he hadn’t been too worried. The idea that she’s failed before isn’t so comforting, but they know better now, right?

Some questions you're just better off not asking. That one, Firo, would happen to be one of them, as she abruptly stops.

"I-I don't... I don't--" The wavering she had expressed earlier when he had found her return to her tones. She brings her hands together to realize that they're shaking now. Her skin starting to burn up. "--don't want to talk about it. I can't. Ca... n't. Can't."

She whips her head from side to side, trying to rattle the sense back into her. Focus. Don't lose it here!

Jaw clenched, she attempts to straighten herself and push forward down the walkway. They can't wait. Not for long.

"Th-there's not... much time."

As she says this, a single light peers through the end of the tunnel behind them. The sound of a train gliding across its tracks approach them.

Firo raises an eyebrow as he watches her—that really turned around quick. “Hey, what the hell’s wrong with you?” Despite the wording, he earnestly sounds concerned. This can’t be good, whatever’s happening.

He reaches out for her shoulder, wanting to steady her. “You don’t wanna talk about it, you don’t have to. Come on, let’s just hold on and wait for it.”

The warning sounds of a mechanical whistle echoes down the vast and seemingly endless tunnel. Her hands start to come over her ears, to drown out the sounds of the approaching machine and Firo's voice beside her.

That's when she feels his hand on her shoulder. And something just snaps.

She is wicked.

Not much time, she reminds herself. There is not much time.

She deserves to--

Without another word, she moves to hurl her weight towards the tracks, into the path of the speeding train.

No, no, no, not on his watch. As soon as Firo sees her move, he darts forward. One hand reaches for her arm again; the other goes for her shirt, hopefully less easy for her to shake off. If one or both land, he’ll grip as hard as he can and try to pull her back.

“Hey! Cut it out! What the hell’re you doin’?!”

Just when her sick concept or redemption seems so close, she's being ripped away from it. Firo caught her in time, just before the train blurs past, horn screaming down the tunnel.

For a moment, she screams with it, her voice drowned out by the raucous sound. It disappears into the tunnel, the light fading into the blackness, just as her hope of ever finding an end to this nightmare also fades.

Her knees buckle then, her whole being almost despairing as the train comes and goes. She collapses to her knees, over the narrow walkway.

Eyes wide, she shivers and bites down on her lower lip. If she was equipped with such a feat, she'd be bursting into tears right now. But she can't muster them. Even if she did, what right does she have to cry now?

No. She doesn't get to cry. Monsters don't cry.

Firo is probably expecting an explanation, or at least an answer to his question. But she doesn't have anything beyond a choked noise and an empty stare.

If Firo believed in any sort of god, he'd be thanking them now. He's simply relieved, though he hardly pauses to process that feeling before being swamped by confusion once more.

He doesn't yet release his hold on her, and he jerks one hand to give her a shake.

"What the hell was that, huh? You escape from that shithole just to die out here?"

He doesn't even stop to think that it's harsh or that a gentler tactic might be better here. He doesn't intend to be abrasive either--there'd be no point--but he sure as hell wants to know what's going on.

It is harsh. However, gentleness is such an alien concept to her that she doesn't even register the abrasive response as anything but normal.

That empty expression twists into that of despair when she remembers that there is an exception. She isn't supposed to feel this way -- she isn't supposed to feel anything.

"I killed her," she finally says through breathy gasps. Panic and adrenaline courses through her in light of what she's done, and what she almost did. "The woman who created me, who called herself my 'mother'... She was trying to help me get out and I killed her. He made me kill everyone else, too, so that he could..."

Despair turns into anger, into outrage when she realizes that Firo hasn't let her go. Her teeth clench as she jerks in attempt to throw his hands off her.

"What do you really want from me?" She's seething now, and it sinks in that she still has no reason to trust this person, even though he is trying to help her escape.

Not everyone who has done 'good' for her had honest intentions, though. It's hard to forget that.

Firo breathes in sharply at the sudden revelation. Killing a bunch of people? Her mother included? Yeah, that'll do it, if what needs doing is a visit to Old Sparky.

Her movement loosens one of Firo's hands, and he tries to buckle down and grab her again. There may be no immediate danger, but better safe than sorry.

"What do I want from you?" To say he wants nothing would be a lie and unproductive besides. People don't ask questions like that because they're prone to trusting or believing in the charity of others.

"First, I want you to stop throwin' yourself in front of trains. Think you can do that? Then we've gotta keep movin'."

A flat no would have been the immediate response, if she could muster words for the initial moment. When Firo seizes her, it may become more apparent just how badly she's shivering. And she'd hate that, if she had a mind to care.

"I destroyed the only good thing I had. I was the one who was supposed to be terminated. It should have been me, not her," she says through clenched teeth, her expression crazed. "They were right about me. I'm defective. I'll end up getting you killed, too."

Because that's what she does.

She hurts people.

Firo does notice the shuddering. He doesn't let go. He didn't need any more hints that this, obviously, is serious shit, but there's another one right now.

He could condemn her for killing a mother of all people. He could interrogate her about why, which he's kind of tempted to do. He could also try to offer this obviously distressed woman comfort.

But he doesn't, because now isn't the time for talk, and he's just not the kind to get touchy feely now. So practical it'll be.

"If we don't hurry up and get movin', it might still be you killed." He would've parroted her wording on 'terminated,' but he can't think of it that way without feeling disgust. It sounds like the way Szilard would talk about people.

"So come on. Which way now?"

For what it's worth, his words get her to think. If she stays here until they arrive, forcing Firo to stay at her side, it could just as well be her killing him. Even if it's his choice to do so, she is making a choice as well, knowing the consequences.

Her gut wrenches when part of her wants to figure out a reason for him to deserve it so she wouldn't have to feel bad about it.

Or for her not to feel anything at all, as she's supposed to.

In the end, there is nothing.

Composing herself with deep, ragged breaths, her muscles clench as she wills herself upright, to look ahead down the dimly lit tunnel where the train disappeared. Her jaw tightens.

"There is only one way," she says as she starts to move to her feet. A hand reaches over to grab the one Firo has on her shoulder, but doesn't make to remove it. She just needs confirmation that he's actually there.

She's really going to try? Firo smiles; he'd thought he'd maybe have to do a lot more convincing. "Then let's go, Fiona."

He's startled by the gesture--he had expected her to move his hand and was about to draw back for that reason. He stops himself, though, and leaves it there under hers.

"You gonna be okay to walk by yourself?"

Although she could find reasons to argue very easy, the futility of it all weighs down on her. She's tired. Tired of fighting, of running, of being used by other people. And while she can't say she trusts Firo, she can't say she knows what she wants anymore. If she ever did in the first place.

"Yes." Or, at least, she thinks she can. She steadies herself on her feet. Her arm shifts so she's not letting go of Firo's hand as she ventures forward once again, tugging him along. One wouldn't think her to be the touchy-feely sort, and she isn't. But she needs to know that he's there, and not simply disappear into nothing for whatever reason.

Irrational as it may be, she just needs to make sure...

A little farther down, the light will start to get a little brighter, followed by the distant echo of muffled voices.

Firo's smile grows just a bit brighter to hear that and to see her rising. She's got this.

He won't try to pull his hand back as they go forward, though the thought drifts across his mind that he once wanted so badly to do this with Ennis...

He's quickly distracted by the sound. "Uh, hey, do you hear people? Should we be goin' this way?"

Will people recognize her? If her trial--assuming she had one--or capture and arrest were highly publicized, people might recognize her even if they're not police. They can't come this far to make careless mistakes.

At least in this case, there is something more innocent when she pulls Firo along. Part of her just doesn't want to lose him, afraid of being alone all over again.

Pushing that fear aside, she slows down at his question. She isn't deaf to the voices, or his concern.

"We can't go any other way..." Her words trail as she pauses to listen in on what's being said down the tunnel.

It's distant, but judging from the snatches of conversation she hears, it sounds like they've stalled -- because of some 'missing asset' that hasn't been accounted for. And that's what she is to these people. An asset.

Releasing Firo's hand, she crouches and starts to move forward. "Stay here. I'll take care of them."

After all, she has done it before.

Firo doesn't listen so much to the words as he does the voices; he wants to pick out how many of them there are.

He stops and stares at her at her command. No way, lady.

"Come on, all of 'em?" Firo's fought groups before, so he knows it can be done. But there's no point in her taking that risk if she doesn't have to. He shuffles right alongside her.

That was the plan, at least. She's taken on more people before. Left the facility in a burning wake of blood and disaster. Killing was about the first thing she's ever done in her life, and it's the one thing she considers herself any good at. It's what she was born for, after all.

Part of her is more worried about letting Firo see that than she is about getting him hurt. Though the latter is certainly a concern as well.

"There aren't that many, all things considered."

The muscle under her eye twitches as her vision focuses through the shadows of the tunnel, seeing the blurred shapes of two people conversing by the stalled train a little farther down. She can't entirely make out what they're saying; their words a garbled mess somehow. But she doesn't question it.

Glancing to the opposite side of the tunnel, she nods at Firo. "Won't be able good if we go the same way together. You take one side and I'll take the other. Sound good?"

"I still can't just stand back and watch you do all the heavy lifting."

Her plan sounds good to him. Though a part of his mind questions potentially killing one guy simply to save another. Another who's already a murderer.

But he's in it now, and he doesn't particularly dislike this lady. So he'll have to see how it goes.

"Got it." He nods back and starts slinking forward. He'll wait until she springs to do the same--he doesn't want to give them away too early.

Very well. To be fair, she would very much dislike being told to step aside while others do her job for her, when she is just as well capable on her own.

Mostly.

She slips down onto the tracks, motioning for Firo to stay on the platform and keep going his own way. Her speed and efficiency in her quick step that make her a sufficient killer go to work, as she makes her way around one side of the train. Slipping past four cars of cargo, she finds the two workers at the checkpoint station, conversing. One of them is likely a guard, while the other is the driver of the train. Their shapes are formless, like moving shadows despite the human voices coming from them...

"--head of security's called to get more sentries at the gate."

"How long 'til they get here?"

"'Bout five minutes or so."

Time, as they say, is not on their side. Rather than taking them both out, or relying on Firo to be capable of doing that, she decides on a different idea.

Ripping off the sleeves of her shirt, she squeezes the pieces of rumbled up cloth into one hand. Her fingers clench around the fabrics, until they catch flame.

With that, she tosses them ahead of the train. Fire bursts in front of them and, somehow, starts spreading across the tracks. Suddenly the two staff stop talking and start yelling.

"What the hell?"

"Shit!"

"Put it out!"

They jump from the checkpoint platform and onto the tracks, leaving the train unattended.

Firo’s still slinking along when Rey sacrifices her sleeves to the greater good.

He looks over at her and cocks his head to one side. Okay, he supposes that works too. And he thinks that even an idiot like him can figure out where this is going, so he moves for the train instead. If he can find her, he’ll whisper her way, “So what now? We take this thing and bust outta here? You know, I’ve heard of people stealin’ from trains but never actually stealin’ the whole train.”

Might be kind of cool, if they don’t get killed.

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tw: suicide attempt (fiOHNOOO)

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let me know if this is too much!

It's perfect, thanks!