thusia | (no subject)

(no subject)

Who: You =D
When: Day 114, Evening and alll night long~
Where: In ur dreams
What: Dream post!

[Maybe you have gotten used to the regular hum of the HQ's engines as it flies slowly over a rippling canopy. Maybe you even find their sound soothing as you drift off tonight... Or maybe you don't drift off at all, maybe wherever you are, whatever you were doing, you just find yourself inexplicably sleepy.

Whatever it is, you end up in dreams. Your dreams? Or someone else's? It's hard to say.]

((OOC: DREAM POST!

For those of you who have never participated in a dream post, everyone interested in running a character's dream posts a top level comment and people comment to that to be in that character's dream. There are basically no rules about how it works! Be a lucid dreamer, don't be, figure it out halfway through, push and pull between who controls the dream. w/e have fun! If you need an OOC excuse to be asleep you can totally assume Rew's power just made your character unreasonably tired at some point. Solitary dreamers will find ocean waters rising in and drowning out their dreams, but Rew won't be making any appearances in this post.))

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

I don't really think so. It doesn't really feel like one.

[...It begins to rain. Despite the fact that the ceiling is still in place.]

[Taking shelter in another room. Does that even work?]

Would you like to stay in one place until it is over, or does that generally turn out poorly for you?

[It does, actually. Though in the other room, the rain begins to turn an unfortunate red color.]

Either way, it turns out poorly.

[Catching the rain and rubbing it between his fingers. Is that really...?]

You catch a cold.

[What is the other wearing?]

[Yep, it really is.]

I should hope not.

[Slacks and a dress shirt. Oddly, much much nicer than usual.]

[The metallic smell of the raining blood starts getting terribly thick.]

[Taking off his coat and tossing it over the other's shoulders. Then finding another exit to this room. If none present themselves, he'll go back to the hallway and maybe it is actually raining properly there.]

[An exit does indeed present itself. So your choices are TORRENTS OF BLOOD or a very, very dark and obscured room.]

[You always take me to the nicest places. Keeping a hand on the other's elbow because he knows getting separated in such places is a no-no, and walking into the darkness.]

[Something reaches out and touches your face. It is definitely not a person. More like an octopus.]

[Makes an undignified sound and steps back. Gross.]

[Your companion, having not felt anything, stops.] What?

You've got a slimy monster or something in your brain.

[Reaching for his match book which might or might not exist.]

I what?

[Your matches will still be there. If one is lit, the flame will reveal a large amount of nothing. Except the slimy feeling reoccurs despite having no visible source.]

You don't feel it. Probably for the best.

[He drops the match on the floor still lit. Taking the other man's elbow he crosses the room with haste. Well, as fast as one can cross it when it is this dark anyway.]

[Where the match drops, the flame spreads to the floor and begins to grow. Quickly.]

[Honestly though. Are you even surprised that in Haunt's dream, everything that can go wrong does go wrong?]

[On the plus side! Whatever was poking at you before seems to be having a rough time; shriveled tentacles become visible in the fire, burning up.]

[Don't think he notices that because bright flame against his eye sight used to darkness. Ow.

That does solve the being able to see where you are going problem. So, uh, about that other exit or are we trapped in a burning box?]

[Nope, there's an exit a while away. Considering the speed at which the flame is spreading, though, you might want to run. Your companion certainly is.]

[Why must your mind be like this? Whhhhyyyy?

Yeah, running and closing the door behind them if that is an option.]

[The fire is a good sport about losing and agrees to stay behind the door, yes. They've ended up in something that looks like an art museum gallery, though the frames are all blank.]

...This usually doesn't happen.

[Art museum sounds much, much better than covered in rain blood, creepy tentacles, or becoming a crispy critter.]

Which part?

[Tapping the frame of the nearest photo.]

Everything that's happened since you showed up, actually.

[The picture blooms with color and mixes slowly for a while before settling on a blurry picture of an average city street.]

[Oh, well...]

Would you like me to stop touching things then?

I doubt it will make a difference in the end.

[Glancing around the room. It is the same uncomfortable white as the hallway in the beginning.] I hate this color...

[Taking the city street painting off the wall and handing it to him.]

Focus on this then.

[Holding onto it and closing his eyes.]

[The walls flood with color in a manner similar to the picture, replicating the scene. Still just an image, but far more interesting than white.]

Oh. Better.