imeeji_frontstage | Happy new dreams [post X]

[welcome to the moon! the still, quiet atmosphere of the lunar sea might not come as much of a surprise - nor, if you have any familiarity with the ascians, the white-robed guy hanging out there with you.

what might be unexpected is this whole production inside and around a hugeass crater?]

[ooc: note in your tag if you're okay with getting your character's head messed up by zodiark, please]

[ All around you is thick darkness, pressing in from every side. High above there's a softly glowing opening, as if someone slashed through the dark and it's bleeding light. It hurts to look at. The breach of light is shrinking with steady finality. You can get no closer to it no matter what you do. ]

[ Once the light knits closed, you're left alone in the dark. Your senses perceive nothing else -- until a soft sound echoes, as if through a cavern: a heartbeat. Unnaturally slow, but even. The darkness around you dissolves into a wan, red-tinged fluid, showing off a latticework of tendons all around. ]

[ From immediately behind you, someone speaks: ]

"What are you doing here?"

[ When you turn, you'll see the person known in Imeeji as Alizarin, though her usually-cropped hair is impossibly long, flowing down past her feet. She's wearing a threadbare white slip, and some of the tendons curl around her limbs like climbing vines. Her red eyes look you over, utterly blank. ]

Edited 2022-01-19 17:48 (UTC)

[ in this particular dream you find yourself coming to in a tube. you're submerged and surrounded in a murky liquid, but that doesn't seem to be impeding your ability to breath ~~or talk~~ at all. to the left and right of you are more tubes, each filled with some kind of strange monstrous creature. on the blood stained operating table at the center of the room lays pentium, licking his wounds and looking all sorts of annoyed. ] ...stupid humans. [ he grumbles, turning his attention to his shoulder in an attempt to remove the bullets lodged in it. it's fun stuff, especially since he's really only burying his snout in the wound and attempting to dig them out... with his teeth. he catches eyes with you, jerking his head up suddenly, because... ]

[ h- how.
what?
why! ]

You... shouldn't be here. [ but it's a bit too late for that! he gets up from the table and goes over to the tube you're in, setting a claw on it. ] I'll get you out of there. [ he looks over his shoulder. ] As soon as Error returns you'll be free.

Edited 2022-01-20 01:55 (UTC)

[You're an angel - and oh, how you've sinned. Mingling with the mortals (forced or not) among your unit, pretending to love, gathering up all the love offered in return in your greed. You were just spending time with them as usual - in the dorms, perhaps, or even in the city proper. But, knowing your crimes...

Is it truly such a surprise when you're suddenly caught - dragged away by your faceless, winged fellows?]

[ you're in an enormous (luxurious!) walk-in closet, full of any and all outfits you could ever imagine for any situation—and some other ones, besides, in the way that dreams are often full of weird detritus that doesn't entirely work in the waking world. so a bunch of more-or-less reasonable outfits, some that only belong on the runway, and some where you're not sure why there's a suit printed in a huge pattern of a vaguely familiar actor's face.

(there's also accessories and a makeup vanity, if you like.)

at the other end is a dressing area with a set of full-length mirrors so you can see how you look. there seems to be someone trying on clothes over there, holding up a few different outfits. ]

When you "wake up", you find yourself in a strange office, decorated in a very art deco style. At the same time, it does feel quite familiar - it's your workplace, isn't it? You're wearing fairly simple black robes - and those are familiar too, - with a white mask hanging down from your neck. You're sitting behind a desk - your desk - and now that you look at it, there's quite a pile of paperwork on it, along with several long tube-like crystally devices and another machine that you apparently need to insert those crystals into.

Glancing at the paperwork, you see some drawings of... fish? Sharks? For some reason, you get an uneasy feeling of foreboding.

Pinned to the paperwork is also a handwritten note.

Would you mind reviewing these for me? I have some rather urgent business to take care of at the request of Emet-Selch. This is the latest batch; you know what to do. Any truly original ones you can leave to me for final review. See you on the morrow!

- Chief of the Bureau, Hythlodaeus

There does not seem to be anything else. Now, dare you face the Shark Pile? Now that the note is out of the way, you can see the first paper clearly. There is a lot of text on it, but also a drawing of, yes, a shark... with arms and legs... situated similar to a quadruped's limbs... There are in fact several drawings of these dog(?)-sharks with varying lengths of the limbs. Some are stubby, some are almost horselike. Why would anyone make this? Who knows, but it looks like it's YOUR responsibility now.

Helpfully, there is a quill and inkpot on your desk, and on the "shark" application itself there is a section for Reviewer's Commentary, as well as two fields to mark whether the concept is APPROVED or REJECTED.

You find yourself in utter darkness - and utter solitude. But this is not the same as loneliness; it is the solitude of resolution. Of truly facing yourself, perhaps - the rest of the world fades away, everyday worries, sensations, thoughts disappearing like wilted petals falling off a new bloom. And in this cleansed state a flame sparks up within you, spreads and grows, washing away doubt and tiredness, renewing you, steeling you - after all, you have a fight still worth fighting, don't you?

You could take on the whole world like this.

Light bursts in.

... When you come to, you find yourself standing on a giant field of barren earth, encircled by a tall wall. At the other end of the field a building looms.

Surprisingly, you start to hear a faint music, although there's no one else around, nor anywhere it could be coming from. If you shift, the music just seems to follow you around, as though you're the one generating it. And speaking of shifting...

If you happen to glance down at yourself, you'll find that you're wearing a very... skimpy... outfit?.. You also likely have a weapon, an exaggerated version of whatever you're used to fighting with.

No matter whether you are embarrassed by this dream's fashion choices, though, there still seems to be no one around, only that building in the distance. You could try heading towards it.

(OOC: please imagine whatever incredibly ridiculous Kill la Kill kamui fashion your character would get, all that matters is that they are mostly naked. Being actually sexy is optional. The weapon has to be cool, though.)

a. warm outings

[ you enter to a friendly scene: the trees and buildings along the street are adorned with warm white lights, and the soft, idle chatter of happy couples and friends is notable, but not overpowering. those who know Kitsu might recognize the small child in a pink coat on his back as Hatsune, his sister, but upon your arrival, she picks her head up and waves to you a little. she's alive, sleepy, but alive.

so of course it isn't real. ]

Ah— you made it too? [ warm, inviting. ] Then you should come with me. You'll like it!

b. nightmare; stalker

[ you find yourself in a room full of people, though you cannot quite turn to look at them. a young woman with a smooth voice strums a guitar to accompany her song. you may be one of the people who has heard Kitsu sing it or hum it, too. it's peaceful, up until her voice cuts out and she abruptly vanishes. the only other sound you hear is her guitar hitting the floor. suddenly you find yourself completely alone, all too sickeningly aware of it. the young woman you had just heard no longer exists.

then there are screams, shouted commands, rapid gunfire. the cries senseless, visceral: the victims' dying wails. the voices are familiar, all people you know, but you are in pitch darkness, unable to move your body. there is nothing you can do but listen to it unfold.

another sudden shift: before you is a white-haired girl of short stature, part of her obscured by darkness. she's small, her eyes piercing and golden, and the way she stands at a distance from you feels threatening. you know somehow that she's dangerous. she takes a step toward you, a blade manifesting from her hand in a flicker of blue light.

the blade is meant for you. what do you do? fight, try to escape? try to make sense of it, talk it out? there might still be time to run. ]

Edited 2022-01-21 06:33 (UTC)

[ You find yourself in an alleyway, late at night; the moon looms full, low and heavy in the sky, and a late autumn chill raises bumps along your skin. Your surroundings too, brick buildings to your sides and cobblestone beneath your feet, are frigid, numbingly cold to the touch. And in front of you -

Is Dia, just Dia, clad in a pale nightgown, hair pulled back into a loose braid. Dirt clings to the hem visible in the dark thanks only to the contrast - she must have come far to get here.

The smile she offers is as gentle as ever - but distinct somehow from what you may know, etched into her face as if by some amateur hand, too stiff and slender to meet her eyes, with no recognition to be found in her gaze. Behind her a young man stands, back to you both, idly watching the street beyond the exit as he nurses a lit cigarette. Smoke rises languid into the air by his exhale, and he pays the two of you no mind in particular, really.

But as one might come to consider - as Aradia shuffles to close the distance between you, hand extended to reach for your wrist - he is blocking the exit.

There is not, it would seem, anyone else around. Such is the sense you're given in the moment, the alleyway walls the yawning maw of some great beast, keen to swallow all manner of sound. Even your own voice, even your heartbeat.

The sense that you get is so brief it would be missed by even the most keen eye, a fleeting flash of animal instinct-memory that is not your own, most certainly belonged to someone before you, the person before you - you are going to die here.

Only once, only in passing, and then you are once more free to your own will, whatever it may be.

But what will you do? ]

endwalker spoilers in here