now is the hour, the time when lost souls wander restlessly in the night

[thepull_mods]

Who: Siren's Port
When: The night of Sunday, October 16th into the morning of Monday, October 17th.
Where: In the mind, in the dreams, in the unconscious of the sleepers.
Summary: --
Warnings: These dreams may be considered not safe for work, with violence, gore, death, underlying sexual themes and other mentions of graphic nature. Having them is

Comments

[ open to boarding house residents ]

[underachieves]

[Shikamaru's out of bed before he even realizes he's awake. He doesn't even come to full consciousness until he's already finished retching into the bathroom sink, with his face pressed against his forearm and his forearm pressed to the cool mirror. He hasn't eaten anything lately, of course, so even the attempt to vomit was a joke. All of those things he's really trying to expel just never escape him.

Dreams. Fucking dreams.

When the twisting in his stomach calms enough for him to move, he washes his face with cold water and dries off carelessly with a corner of his t-shirt. He reaches instinctively for the vial in his pocket as he turns away from the sink, but... Shit, what if he vomits the V right back up? It'd be a waste, wouldn't it?

He shuffles downstairs to the kitchen instead. Tea, first. If he can keep that down...]

[payback]

[Guess who else woke up, threw up, and had the same idea?

Nice to be in a place where it's light. Even when it's just her, the kitchen is a comforting place, like it retains some memory of all the people who move through it and putter around in it and use the table to do anything and everything they have to do.

She is just standing, staring down at the stove, looking right through the kettle.]

[underachieves]

[Crap, he's really not in a state to be talking to anyone. And Rin looks like she needs someone who's good at talking. Too bad for both of them.

His voice is more raspy than usual:]

Why don't you sit. I'll make the tea.

[payback]

[She jumps slightly and glances over her shoulder at him.]

...You look worse than I do. Why don't you sit?

[underachieves]

[He shrugs. He's not going to argue. As he sinks into one of the chairs at the table, he pulls out a cigarette and lighter. Normally he's considerate enough to avoid smoking inside, but he doesn't care right now. He lights it and takes a slow drag, not saying anything.]

[payback]

Nightmares, right?

[underachieves]

Worse than usual.

[payback]

The past few nights?

[underachieves]

Yeah. You too?

[payback]

Jack and his friend are sharing dreams. Jack and me are sharing dreams.

[Forget kettle watching. She comes around, pulls out a chair, and sits down in it, promptly pulling her legs up so she can turn her head and rest her head on her knees.]

I would guess from that that Jack's friend and I are sharing dreams and I don't see why it would stop with just the three of us.

[underachieves]

Stranger things've happened.

[But as much as he'd like to be apathetic about the whole thing, his tone is quiet and shaken. He takes another drag from the cigarette, his eyes on the floor.]

Probably someone's power going haywire.

[payback]

I don't doubt it... just wonder how much of this we're in for.

[underachieves]

Sure as hell won't let myself fall asleep tomorrow.

[payback]

You think drugs or something would work?

[stoicloyalty]

[ The dreams tonight are painful. Combined with disgust that assaults all her senses Chane finds herself shivering violently when she sits up, tumbles out of bed, a hand clasped over her mouth as she rushes to her door. The only thing that stills her in the impulse is the sound of somebody else further down the corridor, being ill in the bathroom.

Rather than intrude she clenches her teeth on her knuckle, swallowing dryly until the urge is quelled for the moment, but not before she sinks to her knees, legs weak, as though gravity might help settle the nausea. All it does is give her another flash of that dream, legs pinned, breaths halting briefly rather than merely slowing down.

What scared her more than the immediacy of those dreams tonight was glimpsing that horribly familiar figure from the outsideIt is a few minutes after the sound of footsteps down the stairs ebbs away until Chane forces herself to stand and carefully open the door, making sure to keep her movements as quiet as possible as she, too, moves down to the kitchen.

[underachieves]

Yeah, they will. Done it before. Want some cocaine?

[An offer delivered so dryly, it's impossible to tell if he's joking.

When Chane enters, he falls quiet again and goes back to his cigarette. He doesn't need to ask why she's awake, and he's suddenly aware he's the man here. If they've all had the same dreams...]