No words. No talk. [Semi-open]
Who: Alex Wilson, people who replied affirmatively to this post... and anyone else who wants a dreamwalker to stumble into their heads.
What: ALEX GOES DREAMWALKING
Where: PEOPLE'S HEADS
When: anytime, actually, this takes place over multiple nights.
Notes: any format is fine, if you want quicklogs just go for it.
Warnings: none yet but if Bad ( Read more... )
What: ALEX GOES DREAMWALKING
Where: PEOPLE'S HEADS
When: anytime, actually, this takes place over multiple nights.
Notes: any format is fine, if you want quicklogs just go for it.
Warnings: none yet but if Bad ( Read more... )
Scott had had a pretty stressful day, and he still couldn't think of what to actually think about it. He was having normality until he flopped out into Sacrosanct and was played a prank on by Tony, the scrawny guy with the beard. He had only just found a place to shack up a few hours ago, and thus far he'd only seen echoes of people, androids flittering about stupidly. He was feeling at a loss when it came to Destiny, the place where people actually mattered, and he hadn't even brought his rucksack.
No. I'm a soldier. I'm stronger.
Instead, he figured some sleep would help him out a little. After taking off his vest and pulling all the effects out of his pockets, he kneeled down by the bunk and prayed. Now I lay me down to sleep, I pray the Lord my soul to keep. See me safely through the night, and wake me with the morning light. Amen. Normal nighttime prayer for the normal guy ( ... )
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She knew this dream, it was hers. She wore pale blue and she stood in a city of glass, everything in blues and whites, too bright, the sun shining over everything, and there was that faint feeling that she knew this place ("The city of glass? Center of everything, of course," said the green eyed man with the crooked smile. "Or it was. More like broken glass now.")
As she said, there are no people in her dreams, but this dream is full of something like people, a thousand humanoid figures all blocky like polygon-people, all blue and white too, and with mirror faces, and all of them bustle about, to and fro, and if she wasn't aware of the dream she'd feel compelled to go to the center but she knows how this dream turns out (they reach the center and the mirror-people divide and turn colors and then they all tear each other apart she knows this story) but if she doesn't follow it it won't come to pass ( ... )
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Well. This dream sure was weird. It was like a dream. Or maybe it wasn't. Maybe like half-awakedness? Where you can't remember what you were doing until you open your eyes. Definitely not his normal dreams, which were like bad repeats of what happened in the day. This one involved a whole lot of blue. Good colour. Plus a nice, powder blue suit. Also the ocean and a dock.
"What in the...?"
He turned around to see a big, blueish city. Somewhat far in the distance and shrouded by a soft mist, it almost didn't look quite right. Like the buildings weren't really made of the stuff that buildings are made of; metal, cement, things that made it sturdy. He looked up to see birds that didn't seem to flap much and had that same weird look to them.
"Bizarre."
But beautiful, he thinks. Naturally, he has no idea. He thinks it's his dream.
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Oh.
At home, she's so used to the bustle of other minds in her dreams that she hadn't even been aware it was a thing until she'd come here. As it stands, the low resonance of a foreign presence is comforting, even if it's so very singular. She sees him standing there, the blue making him seem part of the landscape, and she's abruptly aware of how her hair (red in her dream, like her eyes; when she's awake both are brown, but here...) makes her stand out like a beacon, like a lighthouse.
It's easy to twist things so she's standing beside him, looking out across the water, as if she was always standing there (in dream logic, she might as well have been)
"Yes. A little," she says. "It's a memory, I think. Someone else's. It's a city that died, a long time ago."
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The voice was sweet, but the red hair and eyes shocked him for a moment, while his eyes rudely popped open. He almost didn't recognise her, but he shortly realised it was that one girl...the dream-walking one. So, that interesting experiment he had been half curious, half wary to try finally happened. His blue suit almost matched her pretty dress, but the "someone else's" caught him before he could make a comment.
"Their dreams...they stay with you?"
What a hectic way to sleep. If this place had ever been real, it would take him a long time to get used to it, that's for sure. If there had been inhabitants, he wondered if they had also appeared like glass, like all the other remnants in this dream which was neither his nor hers.
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She waved a hand at this one. "This dream belonged to a few people I know, shared between them. It's a memory of a place, I think. But that's not important, even here it's a ghost town, and it's gone now, destroyed..."
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He walked closer to her, felt like walking on eggshells just in case he broke this pretty dream, and folded his arms.
"So this is what your special skill is, huh?" He nodded, and shrugged slightly. "I'm impressed. I saw that other one you talked to...about how you can also get rid of some nightmares. If that means you have to get in them like this, then...well, you've got more courage than me."
He meant that pretty seriously, especially considering Scott is a warrior and needed to be fearless, if not courageous. But he easily agreed, inside the privacy of his own mind, that he wouldn't want to be at the receiving end of someone's bad night. And that if this young woman did it to help others, she had his respect, for sure.
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She turned to look at him directly, a slight smile on her face.
"I'm not brave," she said, blushing just a little. "If you confronted me in the real world I'd probably scream and cry. But..."
She looked out across the water. "It's even harder than just this. I've fought demons. I've fought armies, in here. But the thing is, it's different. I know that in the end, though there's a lot at stake--people's sanity, their happiness--in the end, I'll wake up. There's no real risk."
It's how she sees it, anyway, even if each time she risks her own sanity, her own happiness. "But I will do something to help people, even if it's just that."
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"I think we're so used to being alone that...we don't even think it's not normal." He shrugs, and adds, "But now that I've seen what it's like with more people, I think I'd want to do it more often."
Alex's reasoning makes perfect sense to Scott, but he still somehow pities her. Pity wasn't what he wanted to feel, but it came accidentally. He still thought of her as a monument of piety, but it came with a streak of sadness for she who would probably not even be remembered after the person with the nightmare awoke.
"Comes with the territory, looks like," he said, then looked at her shocking red eyes, "Burden or a gift?"
He smiles. It's a half-smile, indicating she doesn't have to answer that. But being in one of her dreams, he naturally thinks of it as something good.
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