[A field sounds nice. He so rarely has dreams, you know, when they're lucid enough for him to actually remember them - beyond the drugs he usually takes and the mess that is his head, half of them end up being forgotten.
But it's easy enough to tell that it's a dream - while he still feels that odd security that not being human leaves him with, the sun is high in the sky - noon - and he's perfectly fine sitting there. Likewise, the odd sunflowers, popping up from the ground with the rest of the flowers (roughly the same size, all rather small) definitely indicate that it's a dream.
...he's not really sure what to make of something like this.]
[Perhaps part of the not-rightness here is the odd clarity in the air. Things pop out at you. Like the way that the sun illuminates the dust particles dancing in the air, or the way that the colors are far too vibrant to be normal.]
[Was this path always here, Allen? A dirt path, wide enough for a car to drive on and divided in half by a thin strip of grass. It's leading to the top of a hill in the distance.]
[No. In fact, he's fairly certain it wasn't there at all, not a few moments ago. But attempting to look back on it (and how odd that is, trying to remember a dream while still dreaming. That wasn't supposed to happen, was it?) he couldn't quite recall what it had looked like without the path.
He lingers though, long enough to pluck one of the odd, small sunflowers from the ground and place it in the pocket at it's side so that it was sticking out. An odd traveling companion (Lavi--) to accompany him through the odd dream. It only seemed fitting.
He stands then, making his way up the hill - and the further up he goes, the more the lingering scent of flowers fades, until when he looks back the field he'd left moments before is completely barren.]
1/... 2, I think.marreddreamsOctober 22 2010, 00:37:26 UTC
[Barren, like a desert. Only not. It's missing the heat and the desolace that usually makes up a desert. And the colors are no where near as vibrant. Even the sky is subdued. Perhaps you shouldn't have left that field.]
[The scent of the flowers seems to be fading with every step he takes, but there's another smell there, now. Smokey. Like cloves, cedar, and sandalwood. Chase that scent; it's coming from your new traveling companion. Smell familiar?]
[The top of the hill, at first, seems completely mundane. There isn't anything special here. Nothing but more barren fields and rolling hills and nothing-but-not-nothingness.]
Ack. No edit button :|marreddreamsOctober 22 2010, 00:47:28 UTC
[There are always, always wicked things in the West. Even now, even here. This time, in the form of a block of a building. It looks like an old silo. Or maybe an old mill.]
[Whatever it is, there's the most... well, perhaps not delicious, but certainly familiar scent of baking bread coming from it.]
No worries <3selfdeludedOctober 22 2010, 01:18:48 UTC
[He's beginning to wonder that, too. The poor flowers. But the one at his side, at least, still seemed to be alright, and that was enough for him; no real regret over the death (or disappearance) of the other flowers
( ... )
[A storm is definitely rolling in, there's thunder crackling in the background. And lightning flickering through the canopy of clouds in the sky. All at once, every light in the street shut off, plunging Allen into a brief, but dizzying darkness.]
♪~And then the boy fell into a deep asleep~♪
[There's the sound of a loud, mechanic click, like that of a fuse being switched, and a light at the end of the street flicks on. It's illuminating a sign, but that sign is too far away for Allen to read.]
[Allen very nearly stumbles when all the lights go out, forgetting, in his surprise, that he should have technically been able to see through the darkness. But upon looking up there's nothing around that he can see.
Then there's the music, and though Allen knows he's heard it before he can't place just where, nor when. But there's at least a light now, even if he can't read it (and he idly wonders if he would be able to up close-- had his lessons taught him that much?).
He steps forward, though perhaps with some degree of trepidation, and he's only five steps away from his original place before all of the shop windows around him light up at once, barely a few moments after the second line. The light they give off is dim, a low, faint glow, and there's no sound whatsoever. Just gray static.
Allen does his best to ignore the way the televisions are following him, despite the way they flicker out when he has passed one window and turn on in the next. For all intents and purposes, the glow from the televisions walk alongside him as he
( ... )
[It certainly sounds like the music is fading in an out with the static from the televisions, doesn't it? Soft, up close, and yet far away at the same time.]
♪~One, then two...~♪
[Allen should be able to read the sign when he gets close enough. It's a large sign, with three old-fashioned lights illuminating it. The letters are in an elongated deco font, although the latter half of the sign appears to be too faded to read.]
-ETH--EM R-YAL H-------
♪~Thousands of dreams, dreams...~♪~
[There's a sound coming from behind you, Allen. A soft chuckle. Low, calculating. Watching.]
[And the glow from those televisions increases with every line of the song, however faintly, and the static flickers more violently. Active, moving, breathing-- not unlike something stirring to life, however reluctantly.
Still ignoring it, still refusing to acknowledge the televisions, he squints at the sign when he's close enough to finally read it - and the first isn't not a word he can possibly recognize, not with the missing letters. The last is no easier to decipher with so little to go on.
But there's a distinct paranoia settling into his nerves, an odd on edge feeling. It reminds him of being a child again, hiding after he'd just stolen someone's wallet. (Convinced, always, that each and every footstep he'd heard was coming for him, until the footsteps had died down altogether.) And so he doesn't turn at first, surveying the area, checking for an escape route-- odd survival instincts. But there was an alley nearby, a large building to the right, and either one would do. So he turns, unsure if he hoped for darkness or not.]
[The laughter seems to get louder the closer that he steps toward the darkness. It's not only coming from behind him, but from in front of him, as well. It's as if the darkness is laughing at him, taunting him. Are you sure you want to toy with me, boy?]
[There's another metallic click, like a flipping fuse, followed by the deafening roar of static. All of those televisions in the windows along the street have turned on again, the static drowning out the music. It casts light over a figure - a shadow, really; the features are hidden, too blurred or dark to see - standing in the center of the street.]
[Are you sure you want to go for the alley, Allen?]
[This is where Allen stops being rational about the situation; the part where, even just a little bit, the dream tightens it's hold on him. Because, no, he most certainly does not want to go for the alley, not with that figure out here. But if it was his dream, and he was that lucid-- he should have been able to change it in some way.
He was forgetting bit by bit that this was just a dream.
Allen steps back as the music (song?) becomes more ominous, taking on a slightly more menacing tone even though nothing about the actual pitch or notes had changed. The atmosphere, perhaps, or that oddly suffocating feeling the darkness suddenly had, pushing against him and laughing (At his scar? Him? The simple nonsense of the situation? He has no idea).
He doesn't wait long at all before abruptly turning on his heel and heading towards the building to his right. The -ETH--EM R-YAL H------- building, whatever it was.]
[The door, while is old and looks heavy, swings open easily enough, bringing Allen into a dark and cavernous foyer. It shuts behind him, the sound echoing like the inside of an old. And for a moment, there's darkness.]
[At least the music is gone?]
[Who knows when the lights come back. That's the funny thing about dreams, isn't it? How the transitions rarely make sense. But one moment the foyer is completely black, and the next moment it's filled with a dim light. (Candlelight?)]
[It's enough to see that the foyer is round, with a door to the left (marked with a sunflower-gold sign; RABBIT) and a door to the right (a blood-red sign; BEAR). In the center, there is a mirror.]
P-pardon the tl;drselfdeludedOctober 22 2010, 05:55:48 UTC
[Damn it. Damn it. This was taking an awful turn, one Allen wasn't entirely sure how to handle - the lack of music doesn't leave much way for comfort upon finding yourself relatively trapped in a place you don't actually recognize, after all. Which didn't make sense, at all. But why didn't it
( ... )
It's fine, bb~ *an old cathedral, by the waymarreddreamsOctober 22 2010, 06:57:18 UTC
[Perhaps the reason why you can't remember that you are supposed to be in control of this place is because you aren't in control. Would you bring this upon yourself, Allen? Darkness, and desolate fields, and music, and voices, and shadows that you've tried to keep hidden away~?]
[The silhouette is chuckling again, humming, somehow singing lyrics without murmuring any words at all. The voice echoes and dances along the walls of the foyer.]
♪~... the silver eyes were tremblng~♪
[It seems to crescendo, even as he dives through the RABBIT door, to deafening decibels. Until the door closes, at least, and it comes to an immediate silence.]
[Perhaps, in some ways, this silence is even more deafening than the music.]
[The RABBIT door has led him into a hallway. It's unmistakably that of a hospital; long, straight, narrow, and lined with what feels like an impossible number of doors. Most (all?) are open - the doors either swung fully open, off their hinges, or gone completely - allowing a golden light to fill the hall. Just like the
( ... )
<3 I figured it might've been something like that, actually!selfdeludedOctober 22 2010, 07:27:25 UTC
[Even Allen isn't sure of that one. His mind has been turning on him since he was a child - unexplained migraines, dreams of a life that he never even came close to living, seeing things that shouldn't exist, making the rest of the world believe he was insane (which he wasn't, absolutely not--) and making him wonder, every so often if he really was...
No. Allen has no idea if he'd bring this on himself. But he wouldn't be surprised if he did, either.
As soon as the door has been safely slammed shut behind him, Allen leans back and slides down it, placing his hands over his ears and taking a moment to breathe. Calm what should've been a racing heart against his ribcage, and was instead just adrenaline and fear.
He doesn't actually look up to survey his new surroundings until he hears that scuff against the ground of someone moving closer, and his head snaps up immediately to stare at the person down the hall. And while orange isn't quite the color he associates with this particular person, nor is the sunflower something attached to
( ... )
But it's easy enough to tell that it's a dream - while he still feels that odd security that not being human leaves him with, the sun is high in the sky - noon - and he's perfectly fine sitting there. Likewise, the odd sunflowers, popping up from the ground with the rest of the flowers (roughly the same size, all rather small) definitely indicate that it's a dream.
...he's not really sure what to make of something like this.]
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[Was this path always here, Allen? A dirt path, wide enough for a car to drive on and divided in half by a thin strip of grass. It's leading to the top of a hill in the distance.]
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He lingers though, long enough to pluck one of the odd, small sunflowers from the ground and place it in the pocket at it's side so that it was sticking out. An odd traveling companion (Lavi--) to accompany him through the odd dream. It only seemed fitting.
He stands then, making his way up the hill - and the further up he goes, the more the lingering scent of flowers fades, until when he looks back the field he'd left moments before is completely barren.]
Reply
[The scent of the flowers seems to be fading with every step he takes, but there's another smell there, now. Smokey. Like cloves, cedar, and sandalwood. Chase that scent; it's coming from your new traveling companion. Smell familiar?]
[The top of the hill, at first, seems completely mundane. There isn't anything special here. Nothing but more barren fields and rolling hills and nothing-but-not-nothingness.]
[Except for in the west.]
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[Whatever it is, there's the most... well, perhaps not delicious, but certainly familiar scent of baking bread coming from it.]
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♪~And then the boy fell into a deep asleep~♪
[There's the sound of a loud, mechanic click, like that of a fuse being switched, and a light at the end of the street flicks on. It's illuminating a sign, but that sign is too far away for Allen to read.]
♪~The flame inside the breathing ashes~♪
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Then there's the music, and though Allen knows he's heard it before he can't place just where, nor when. But there's at least a light now, even if he can't read it (and he idly wonders if he would be able to up close-- had his lessons taught him that much?).
He steps forward, though perhaps with some degree of trepidation, and he's only five steps away from his original place before all of the shop windows around him light up at once, barely a few moments after the second line. The light they give off is dim, a low, faint glow, and there's no sound whatsoever. Just gray static.
Allen does his best to ignore the way the televisions are following him, despite the way they flicker out when he has passed one window and turn on in the next. For all intents and purposes, the glow from the televisions walk alongside him as he ( ... )
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♪~One, then two...~♪
[Allen should be able to read the sign when he gets close enough. It's a large sign, with three old-fashioned lights illuminating it. The letters are in an elongated deco font, although the latter half of the sign appears to be too faded to read.]
-ETH--EM R-YAL H-------
♪~Thousands of dreams, dreams...~♪~
[There's a sound coming from behind you, Allen. A soft chuckle. Low, calculating. Watching.]
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Still ignoring it, still refusing to acknowledge the televisions, he squints at the sign when he's close enough to finally read it - and the first isn't not a word he can possibly recognize, not with the missing letters. The last is no easier to decipher with so little to go on.
But there's a distinct paranoia settling into his nerves, an odd on edge feeling. It reminds him of being a child again, hiding after he'd just stolen someone's wallet. (Convinced, always, that each and every footstep he'd heard was coming for him, until the footsteps had died down altogether.) And so he doesn't turn at first, surveying the area, checking for an escape route-- odd survival instincts. But there was an alley nearby, a large building to the right, and either one would do. So he turns, unsure if he hoped for darkness or not.]
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[There's another metallic click, like a flipping fuse, followed by the deafening roar of static. All of those televisions in the windows along the street have turned on again, the static drowning out the music. It casts light over a figure - a shadow, really; the features are hidden, too blurred or dark to see - standing in the center of the street.]
[Are you sure you want to go for the alley, Allen?]
♪~Dreams that pour onto the earth~♪
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He was forgetting bit by bit that this was just a dream.
Allen steps back as the music (song?) becomes more ominous, taking on a slightly more menacing tone even though nothing about the actual pitch or notes had changed. The atmosphere, perhaps, or that oddly suffocating feeling the darkness suddenly had, pushing against him and laughing (At his scar? Him? The simple nonsense of the situation? He has no idea).
He doesn't wait long at all before abruptly turning on his heel and heading towards the building to his right. The -ETH--EM R-YAL H------- building, whatever it was.]
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[At least the music is gone?]
[Who knows when the lights come back. That's the funny thing about dreams, isn't it? How the transitions rarely make sense. But one moment the foyer is completely black, and the next moment it's filled with a dim light. (Candlelight?)]
[It's enough to see that the foyer is round, with a door to the left (marked with a sunflower-gold sign; RABBIT) and a door to the right (a blood-red sign; BEAR). In the center, there is a mirror.]
[Wait. That isn't your reflection, is it?]
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[The silhouette is chuckling again, humming, somehow singing lyrics without murmuring any words at all. The voice echoes and dances along the walls of the foyer.]
♪~... the silver eyes were tremblng~♪
[It seems to crescendo, even as he dives through the RABBIT door, to deafening decibels. Until the door closes, at least, and it comes to an immediate silence.]
[Perhaps, in some ways, this silence is even more deafening than the music.]
[The RABBIT door has led him into a hallway. It's unmistakably that of a hospital; long, straight, narrow, and lined with what feels like an impossible number of doors. Most (all?) are open - the doors either swung fully open, off their hinges, or gone completely - allowing a golden light to fill the hall. Just like the ( ... )
Reply
No. Allen has no idea if he'd bring this on himself. But he wouldn't be surprised if he did, either.
As soon as the door has been safely slammed shut behind him, Allen leans back and slides down it, placing his hands over his ears and taking a moment to breathe. Calm what should've been a racing heart against his ribcage, and was instead just adrenaline and fear.
He doesn't actually look up to survey his new surroundings until he hears that scuff against the ground of someone moving closer, and his head snaps up immediately to stare at the person down the hall. And while orange isn't quite the color he associates with this particular person, nor is the sunflower something attached to ( ... )
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