thechanged | SLEEPING BEAUTIES: DREAM LOG

The twins had finally succumbed to the vines and here, in this dream world, they walk endless dark streets of tenements and crumbling stately houses. They don't know it and won't remember it, but the streets are a dim echo of the ghettoes of their childhood.

The wind rises and whistles down the narrow streets and high above them, a pinprick of a blood-red moon casts baleful light on sheer walls umarred by windows.

The twins huddle together in an alleyway, covering their faces, trying to hide from the wind and the feeling of being watched.

Edited 2013-09-09 19:26 (UTC)

It's evening here, inside the room from her memories, lit by torches near the door and moonlight in the back, through an open window carved out of the wall. The smell of the sea wafts through the room, filling the air with salt. Hardly anything is made of metal; those that are have corroded over years of salt exposure.

The woman stands before her, long and blonde of hair, clothed in dark browns and olives, a crossbow at her hip. She appears just as she had in the hydra's memory, save for one detail -- she is not moving. She does not speak, does not react. Rather than a person, she is a prop, without action or reaction.

The hydra stands where she had seen herself standing in the memory. She reaches out to touch the plate the other woman, the hunter, holds, sharp, black nails brushing against the ceramic, smearing one of the two drops of blood on its tip. No matter how long she stares, she cannot see what she had seen before-- no farther than the blood, nothing microscopic.

Uneasy, she turns away and leaves the familiarity of the room. Now it is her imagination that supplements her knowledge -- the hall she enters is similarly carved from earth, but unlit.

It's an endless corridor.

No, really. It goes on forever, twisting and turning into places that look exactly the same, with bookshelves stuck in the walls and glass windows that show a hazy beige sky filled with clouds. And there's the omnipresent sound of ticking everywhere, filling your ears and distracting you from the possible right way to go.

The typewriter walks the corridor, and in front of him a very, very strange creature runs away. Occasionally, it falls over, but gets back up, dashing in different directions and never, ever staying too long for one to get a good glimpse of it.

This is odd. Very odd. The typewriter frowns, but he keeps following the thing, feeling somewhat paranoid that someone is watching what he is doing.

How can he find a way out of this place?

Edited 2013-09-09 19:50 (UTC)

Chaos: a dream of death and fire, the screams of triumphant soldiers and wounded civilians, blood and smoke.

He struggles free of burning debris, watching a boulder fly overhead, launched from a catapult. His breathing is ragged, his eyes watering: he begins to run. He doesn't know where, just that he must run, he must hide.

You are now underwater. Or at least, that's the feeling you get from the myriad of fish and other aquatic life. Whales swim in the distance, keening mournful songs to each other. A pod of dolphins rushes by, chasing a school of frantic fish. Seahorses bob in what must be the current, though you can't feel it. You can't feel anything like water, really, and all other evidence aside, you're certainly not drowning.

Despite the deep blue darkness surrounding you, everything else is brightly lit-- the scales on the brightly colored fish shine, almost glowing, bioluminescent streaks on the hides of the dolphins leave light trails. The only thing not lit by this vague and unidentifiable light source is beneath you. Inky blackness stretches out below, but it seems like there may be something lurking down there-- but you can't quite make it out.

If you swim far enough, even back in the direction you came from originally, you'll see that the world curves around noticeably, as if in some kind of round container-- or bowl. Getting close enough to sides, you can make out a world beyond, but you cannot go there. It is brightly colored, perhaps made of coral? And while the distortion makes details difficult to discern, but you can see something shaped like a giant conch shell off in the distance. If there is a sky out there, it's not recognizable as one.

Feferi doesn't care about any of that. She's happily swimming amongst the fish, a little swarm of cuttlefish and there are even some crabs and clams click-clacking about her. It's like meeting an old friend again after a long time, and they frolick without purpose, because it's fun and they can. She laughs when she draws a cuttlefish up to her face and it tickles her with its tentacles.

Edited 2013-09-09 20:50 (UTC)

[He's not sure how long he has been wondering the halls of the castle grounds, but it's long enough that the peaceful quiet of the grounds has been interrupted by the fast clinking of armor as small groups of guards begin to rush frantically about. Names and orders have been shouted, but the thick walls of stone between the unicorn and the others make it impossible for him to determine what is really going on.

Something continues to niggle at the very back of his mind, something is without a doubt wrong. However, unable to ignore his own curiosity he keeps wandering, a pale hand set on the wall as he continues to move forward, guided in what direction he knows not, but it feels to be the right way.

Eventually, corridor of stone widens to reveal a much more open area lined with stone columns and archways that surrounds an interior garden. Finding comfort in the presence of the trees Anduin quickly takes his leave of the marbled pathway and slips among the foliage. Nearby he can make out the sound of slow moving water and the thought of a small lake comes quickly to his mind, which makes him smile.

However, the sound of approaching footsteps causes him to recoil against the nearest tree. Since his arrival on the castle grounds he hasn't actually physically seen anyone else and as the shadow cast on the stone wall grows larger he readies himself to greet friend or foe.]

Edited 2013-09-09 20:33 (UTC)

There are clouds beneath your feet and an open sky all around you. Everything seems serene--

Aside from the Dog Girl punching away at the glass cage she sits in. It seems big enough for at least two of her, but she's the only one there. Eventually, she resorts to throwing her (muscled, furry, clawed) weight at the glass wall in front of her. She crashes through. For a moment, she's sure she will fall right through to whatever's below, but instead she lands on soft, cotton-y fluff and gets back to her now less furry feet.

And then, the cage is gone. Or maybe it isn't. She isn't turning back to look at it, that's for certain, so it's up to you. And besides, it hardly matters at all if she happens not to see you. Shouldn't she be seeing someone, though? This place feels emptier than it should.

[ Tea for two: a blanket upon the grass, the venue a meadow overlooking a mountainscape of russets and a cloudless sky of blue. With his palms to the earth and his legs tucked beneath him, the Fairest relaxes, leans back to take in the view—a pity, that he hasn't anyone to share this with, that one porcelain cup has gone untouched, its contents allowed to cool. Glancing down, he first considers the tea-tray, then its accompanying array of sweets, but finds himself tempted by neither, his gaze falling instead to the blanket beneath him.

But ah, it isn't a blanket, now is it? It is a vibrant garment, pink silk patterned with colored jacquard, and in his mind's eye, the escort fashions an image of the person who might wear it: someone brazen, ostentatious, and without a care in the world. Shifting to stand, he takes the robe in his hands, holds it out before him as if studying it might sharpen the picture he's crafted, but to no avail.

Nothing comes, though perhaps he's managed to hail a different companion with the show of color. ]

This is an oasis. All around a desert stretches, limited only by a range of distant mountains black against the burning white of the sky. There is nothing else there, only the sand and the great crimson eye of the sun blazing down. If something seems to move, it is at best an illusion, at worst...worse.

But here for some reason trees are growing, towering ancient forest matriarchs whose branches tangle and trail vines. The ground beneath is soft with fallen leaves; the air is cool and dark. Water pools in the hollows of stones, and just out of sight birds are calling each to each.

She stands at the very edge of the oasis, looking out. Her toes brush against the sand; every now and then a stray sunbeam lances across her, heating her metallic skin. She rocks forward onto the balls of her feet, then sinks back again, like a diver on the edge of a deep unknown pool.

Edited 2013-09-10 04:04 (UTC)

There's bees everywhere, he notes. That really the first thing that comes to his attention.

He's in a room - his room, he thinks, he remembers - and there are square shaped hives in there will him. The little purple insects buzz around excitedly, and great gobs of sticky, sweet smelling something leak from the bottoms of their homes. Why are the walls covered in red and blue writing, he wonders. Why is there honey all over the goddamn floor?

He doesn't know.

He goes to stand by the window sill, the place where a weird mechanical device is sitting. Outside, there is an entire city of tall, purple beehives with even more bees buzzing around them. Also the beehives are on fire.

"This is stupid," he remarks.

And somehow, the purple beehive streets shift into something more coherent, something a bit more down to earth. Lights drifts down these now foreign alleyways, wondering why everything went from familiar to unrecognizable.

This isn't really what he wanted to happen.

As it turns out, the two in the alleyway are the first other changelings he sees.

"Yo! What the hell are you doing over there?"

And from entering a building, Lights somewhere ends up here. Fuck, he knew that was a mistake. He should have stayed outside.

"Hello?" he calls impatiently down one of the endless corridors. The first thing he sees is that weirdass motherfucker running down the hallway. It doesn't seem to pay any attention to him as it runs by.

"What the fuck, even."

"Oh, hello. Pity you found yourself here. It's dreadfully boring."

And after the strange creature comes this typewriter, walking nonchalantly with his hands in his pockets. He stops to look over at the elemental though, raising an eyebrow.

"Where did you come from, though? I thought there was no way out of this place..."

"Uh. Through a door?" he replies, as if to say 'duh.' He sits back in the air where he's floating, seemingly resigning himself to it. "But I'm guessing it's not here anymore. What's that dude's problem?"

He means the one that just ran by.

This place certainly is empty, and it almost makes the typewriter a little nervous. Shouldn't he, you know, be falling through the clouds right now? Whatever. The sight of this beast in her cage, piques his interest, though, so wanders over- and then stops in place when she crashes through the cage.

It takes him a few seconds to gather himself and respond.

"...You're not hurt?"

"No, you would be right about that." He lets out a sigh, scratching his head. So much for that way of escape.

At the other's comment, he turns to the creature, which is currently flailing on the ground several feet away, trying to get back up. He shrugs. It is familiar to him, for some reason...but then again, this might all just be from some storybook he read recently. It seems surreal enough, anyways.

"Beats me. It seems like he's got some place to go, though where that is is hard to say. He won't stay still, that's for sure."

"Right," he says, and trails off into silence. Because nothing about this situation particularly lends him to small talk.

"...So did you get eaten by vines too, is that what's happening here, because I'm still not super clear on that issue."

And through the water comes another woman, this one a snowy white in body and dress. Her eyes are a deep and fierce red, in the same pitch as her long hair - hair that flows around her like a cloud in the water.

She swims slowly but confidently through the water, though she shows no labor for lack of air. She approaches the fish girl with her cuttlefish and begins to smile. She is very beautiful.

She giggles as the cuttlefish tickles, appreciating the other girl's fun.

Edited 2013-09-10 00:12 (UTC)

"What, you too?" He cocks his head to the side, though not too far, giving how his shoulders are literally the carriage of himself that moves from side to side. "Heh. Getting put to sleep by vines was about the last thing I would have expected, but no, I don't think we were eaten. More like...hurt, in a way? I know that there are plants that produce poisons and chemicals and the like, so it isn't that illogical that it could have produced a hallucinogen or a sleep agent of some sort."

"Don't be afraid," says a gentle voice. From behind him approaches a woman. She is so fair of skin as to be like porcelain, with shining red eyes and long red hair that trails behind her like a train. Her dress is simple and white to match her skin, though it seems to be comprised of nothing but a shifting cloud of mist that clings to her body.

She smiles at him.

He just give him a look.

"Uh yeah, since when do we need an explanation for a vine putting us to sleep, are you aware of the kind of environment we are living in here? It's pretty much bullshit city, get over it already."

The fish girl (the one who certainly has no name, what are you talking about) is broken from her cuttlefish reverie as she's approached. Her eyes go wide and she gives a little wave to girl, one whose face she's never seen before.

"Hello!" She shoos some of the cuttlefish, in the other girl's direction, urging them to go make a new friend. There will always be more cuttlefish for her. "Don't worry, they are very friendly."

Wow, rude. The typewriter frowns. Of course, he has a point, but...it just didn't feel right to just do away with explanations and just say it was all magic.

"...Yes, well, we're here now. Good for us." He glances towards the creature, which has only just gotten up and is now again running off down the corridor. "So what is this, like a shared dream or something? I mean, I'm positive you're not a part of my dream. Neither I of yours."

Trees surround the book, appearing to reach endlessly upwards. Barely any light breaks through their massive leaves, brief patches of light appearing and disappearing with the wind. A sense of belonging comes over the woman, despite the forest's oppressive nature, and she wanders among the thick trunks.

An eerie cry echoes from the forest, seeming to come from every direction at once. She startles at the interruption, but once she's recovered she feels only annoyance. It's a trespasser and she plans to get rid of it. She just has to find it first. Picking a tree at random, she starts to climb.

"Oh!" she says, with another laugh, reaching out to touch the fish as they come closer to her. "Haha, they seem that way!" She watches as they swim around her fingers for a moment, before turning her attention back to the girl.

"There are so many of you here now - It's a great relief to not be alone."

SLEEPING BEAUTIES: DREAM LOG

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