imeeji_frontstage | DREAMPOST

[ Yvette us in her usual sleepy place with art supplies and an easel, painting as the scenery and ground shift beneath her, like photos on a social media feed, occasionally disparate from each other.

There's another art station set up. Let's drawing! ]

[ For those who know him this particular dream won't be very surprising. As it often does it takes place in the midst of a devastated city.

Buildings are destroyed, some of them are still on fire, and there's the smell of burnt flesh everywhere you go. Some of the bodies aren't even particularly hidden, they're in full view and they may look like some of the people in Imeeji to you.

Valour is just sitting on a pile of rubble, reading a book. His sister's for those who know it ]

[ you're no longer in your own body in this... "dream". instead, you're in the body of a beast of your choosing; scaled to be no bigger than a wolf. you find yourself here, alone, but outside the room and down several ( probably ) empty corridors you can hear the faintest echo of footsteps. ]

[ do you
^(a) freak out, because you're not technically you,
^(b) look around and try to figure out WTF,
^(c) immediately leave, because fuck this noise,
or ^(d) some sort of fourth option? ]

Edited 2020-11-18 21:31 (UTC)

[ You're in a cell. ]

[ Or, maybe it could be more accurately described as a brightly lit tank. There's one glass wall looking out into a sci-fi alien laboratory; the other walls are all metal, and one of them features ... well. They're basically giant, metallic hamster bottles, one filled with water and the other filled with a gross-looking goopy green slop. ]

[ There's nothing else. ]

[ ... Nothing else except for Tea, sitting in the middle of the tank with her knees tucked up to her chin. ]

[Around you, there is nothing but darkness. Darkness... and Serenity. Curled up in the darkness with her arms over her head. This isn't some kind of space-- there is no "place" that this is tied to. No... this darkness is a place inside of her mind, representing a time where she was trapped, unable to reach the waking world. Alone... or, she always had been. If one didn't know better, the way she curls up so tightly, so tensely-- at first it may seem like she's not moving. But up close, she's shaking something terrible.]

I want it to be over... why...?

[Something within the darkness speaks-- it is the same voice... Serenity's voice and yet it isn't in the same fashion.]

You will live. You will struggle and you will suffer but you will live. And yet so many people... they will die. And more will die while you idle here. So why? Why is it that you live?

...that's what you want to ask, right?

[Serenity tries to cover her ears, sobbing, but-- she knows it won't work.]

No-- no, I...

[Some fellow in AlcheME clothing is shoving you into a... mirror? He waves, and walks away.

There's nothing here.

You can see a room on the other side of the glass but there's no one there. And nothing changes.

You can't get out. This side of the mirror is a featureless void.

There's a sense of creeping dread, you're trapped.

And you're alone.]

Edited 2020-11-18 22:46 (UTC)

[ Once again instead of Sashay Silfda this dream features this woman. This time, though, she's in a nice cottage out in the woods - outside is a small pond and a very beautiful flower garden around it, visible through the window by the door.

The interior of the cottage, on the other hand, looks like it was torn the fuck apart by something with very sharp claws and the ability to punch holes through several layers of wood. The woman is seated on a chair, in the path of the sunbeams from the window and is peacefully writing something down in a book with a serene smile on her face.

This is fine. ]

Edited 2020-11-18 22:53 (UTC)

A
[In the nice option, you'll find yourself at a house, on a river. Vergil's in a rowboat not far out, lounging and reading. Maybe you've appeared in it with him, maybe you're on shore. Either way this is extremely peaceful, it feels warm and loving, like this is all anyone could want.]

B
[But even if his dreams start well, they devolve to nightmare soon enough. You arrive in the first scene but you hardly have time to take it in before the house goes up in flames, the ground cracks and splits, and swallows you up.

You drop into a lake of blood instead.

(There will be varying content warnings in this one but I'll check your dnw!)]

Edited 2020-11-19 01:45 (UTC)

[It's a dark night. No moon, no stars, and the ground itself seems to vanish into black Nothing, except for the raised stone platform of a campground haven.

Runes carved into the rock itself glow an inviting pale blue, and the campfire is a comforting warmth. A large tent is pitched to one side, four folding canvas chairs around the fire]

[ You're standing in front of a fountain in the courtyard of a school. At least… it used to be a courtyard of some kind. Now, it is more reminiscent of a battlefield.

The scene is somewhat obscured by the darkness of night and a heavy downpour of rain, but what surrounds you on all sides is unmistakable; a field of swords and corpses.

Well, "swords" is somewhat inaccurate. Rather, what litters the courtyard are hundreds of massive blades that protrude from the ground at various lengths and angles like a field of spikes. It is on these blades that the corpses lie impaled-- some by themselves, others linked together arm-in-arm, others simply piled on top of each other in a careless mass. All of them are dead. All of them wear expressions of anguish and pain. All of them are wearing a school uniform. A few of them may look familiar to you.

The dreamer of the dream sits on the edge of the water fountain. It isn't running-- the fountain, that is. It doesn't necessarily have to, there's more than enough rain to turn the ground below your feet into a river of blood.

Leo-- Shishiou-- Hoshi-- whatever you know him by, is dressed in a uniform similar to all the corpses. One knee is pulled up to his chest as he hunches over the marble, clearly concentrating on writing something into it. He hums to himself as he does, but the longer this goes on the harder it is to listen to. Even though there's nothing else around him his voice starts to sound more like discordant noise than music. It gets louder and harsher and more frantic until finally,

Whatever he was writing gets washed away by the rain, just more blood to add to the already noxious river.

Another blade grows strong, up from the river of blood.

And another body falls from the sky, to be impaled unto the waiting blade.

This just keeps happening. ]

[The city isn't standing anymore. It's possible to see what it used to be: pastel house-fronts and picturesque windows, and far away down in the water, a single strut of the Golden Gate Bridge is still standing.]

[But that's in the minority, now. All around you are the leftovers of shattered buildings, chunks of concrete and broken glass, desiccated corpses that lay where they've fallen.]

[You're tired, and you're hungry, and all you want to do is rest.]

[But you can't, can you? There's still so much to do.]

[You find yourself in a polluted, monochrome industrial complex (aka the Fright Zone) that's lovely to visit this time of year, really. Specifically, you're in the middle of a grand hall, tall angular architecture giving an imposing and harsh feeling to the room, dominated by a dais with three thrones centred on it. In the centre chair sits a blonde girl, stiff-backed and trying to look stern and imposing (maybe not successfully), and the other two thrones are... empty? Huh. Weird.

Option 1) You're Kohime, Sabre, and Adora and this is a self-indulgent dream about ruling the world for fun and profit.

Option 2) You're a prisoner of the Horde, dragged in by a couple of guards (each carrying a stun baton to keep you in line should you get any funny ideas) to be presented before the ruling Lords.

Option 3) You're a Force Captain here to report to your Lords at their summons. (But actually that's a pretense and you're basically just there to hang out and plan one of those cool "party" things the Horde discovered after invading some poor random village and enthusiastically adopted).]

[You're falling, the scenery a blur around you, and nothing within reach if you flail your limbs. You fall for what feels like a long time—for falling, which means only really ten seconds or so, but surely you can't have been that high, and you'll hit the ground soon—

Then there's a touch to your arm, and you stop mid-air. Glory is there.]

[ It's pretty dark out on this beach. It's not pitch darkness, but dark enough that you probably wish you had a little more light to see a little better, even with the distant glow of sunlight in the horizon. In the sky above hangs a solar eclipse, in the distance there is the outline of what appears to be an island. Though the sky is otherwise empty, the sea glitters with the light of hundreds of thousands of stars, as the tide ebbs and flows. The sand beneath your feet is soft and pearlescent.

A strange but pretty picture (weirdly enough, the sun isn't reflected in the sea). It's kind of relaxing.

(Unless you try to approach the water, anyway.

If you do, the tiniest sense of dread begins to sprout in the back of your mind. The anxiety of someday having to face something you can never, ever, truly escape.)

There's a wooden pier on the beach that extends out into the sea — and Eclipse has just emerged from the water, scrambling onto the pier to hack up starry seawater. ]

[ it's pitch-black, except for the hollow faces that burst out of the darkness, bleeding and rotting and all screaming, moaning, and crying. some of it' nonsensical, some of it's Klaus, KLAUS, help me Klaus!

the POV flickers--sometimes you'll see Klaus, very young, sometimes he's an adult, but he's always pressed into a corner, hands clawing at his eyes and ears.

sometimes you ARE Klaus, and you're terrified, more scared than you've ever been. when you scream, no sounds come out. the walls are thick, unyielding stone. you try not to look behind you, try to ignore them, but they know you can hear them and they want your attention. ]

Edited 2020-11-19 14:36 (UTC)

[You'll find yourself, perhaps unexpectedly, waking up in an extremely lavish shrine. You're resting in a lounge area covered in the softest of pillows and flowers, tons and tons of flowers. It was as if someone had created a pathway of flowers just for you to walk on. There is a heated bath nearby to relax in, but there's also something of a picnic for you to enjoy also. It's all very nice!

Not only that, you're wearing the finest of silks and plenty of handcrafted jewelry, adorning your neck, your fingers, your wrists, and even a headpiece.

And right now, someone is coming over to you, looking at you with the most loving expression.

Do you even know this guy??????]

[Lily sits on a rock, the sea stretched out before her. Above is the night sky, painted in countless stars and the brilliant clouds of distant galaxies in impossible colours.

Her voice is quiet and sombre and deep as she begins to recite]

I am caged by a thousand distorted reflections
Made by my own fumbling, broken hands
They bleed rivers for this necessary work
To recreate a miracle

Again and again and again
I try to rekindle the flame of you
Your perfect blaze
But all around me are dying embers
Pallid lights that never got to be

Ashes and fractured shards weigh anchor in my mind
And my nails crack from the drag to white oblivion
--No, not yet--
Where fragments and unfinished melodies are old bedfellows
--Where--

                    --you--

     --lonely--

                               --please--

Please.
Please.
Please.

The jailed and the jailor
Yet I have lost the keys
To a world beyond this twisted emptiness

Edited 2020-11-21 08:02 (UTC)

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