faileas: (Default)
aefenglom log posting account ([personal profile] faileas) wrote in [community profile] dagung2020-09-22 08:14 pm
Entry tags:

☆ TDM: SEPTEMBER

Test Drive: September

    Welcome to [community profile] aefenglom's test drive! All threads can be considered game canon, should you choose to do so; regardless of if you pick specific threads to remain canon to the game, the prompts and test drive itself will be. This is part of our September-October event The Price of Revolution, so it's fairly important to note! Aside from that, here are some quick reminders:

    The Application Queue is open. Apps can be submitted at any time but will only be processed as space opens up and game plot allows. The application page can be found here.
    • If you have any questions about the game or the world, please refer to the FAQ page; if you still have questions, feel free to ask them! For questions specific to the test drive, please ask them on the appropriate thread.
    • For the purposes of the test drive, your character will have access to all magics taught by the Coven if they're a Witch, and as much of their shifted form as you'd like if they're a Monster. Feel free to play around and experiment with each!
    • Test drive threads can be used as samples for your applications!

    • And finally, since this is part of our event, characters already in-game ARE allowed to top-level on this post.

    With that taken care of...



Mirrorbound who come to the Coven after dark on the 27th, who have volunteered to assist in waking the sleeping citizens of Dorchacht, are ushered into a large room laid with pallets on the floor inside a huge chalk circle. With Nessie are a group of sleepy-eyed Witches in loose robes, their expressions calm and almost dreamy despite the seriousness of the situation. These are the Dreamers, an oft-secluded group of Witches who study Divination and dream magic almost exclusively. They show signs of suffering some of the dangers of dreamwalking - they space out often, or doze off and have to be woken by one of their fellows. Still, they seem to know what they’re doing as they prepare candles and fragrant incense. Magic pulses through the floor, tingling threads of it escaping to reach out harmlessly toward the Mirrorbound who filter in.

Miss Nessie is the one to explain the ritual in a solemn tone as she oversees the final preparations and the other gathered Witches. "You all seem to have an uncanny ability to dreamwalk that we do not fully understand. Normally such a thing is difficult, it is, but the Mirrorbound are capable without even trying." She takes a breath and lets it go, standing straighter, determined. "Hopefully we can trigger that ability tonight. Theoretically, magical energy can be harvested from the dream planes. While you sleep, and dream, we will perform a spell to allow you all to bring back that energy crystallized into a physical form, and that is what we will use to wake the citizens of Dorchacht. The more you can collect, the more people we can help."

Her determination gives way briefly to open worry, and she admits, "We don't know what form this shared dream will take, or what dangers it may hold. With the spell going, any injuries you sustain in the dream will also carry over to your physical body, so be careful, yes? You can still back out, of course, and none will hold it against you. For those who stay, healers will be on-site and monitoring your physical forms."

Those who stay will be given a piece of a very rare lavender mushroom used by the Dreamers called Faecap, which works quickly to induce sleep - and shared dreaming. As they drift off, the sounds of soft chanting fill the large room.

[Due to the untested nature of dreamwalking, IC volunteering isn't necessary to participate in the TDM - your character may simply find themselves in the shared dream when they go to sleep that night, similar to how TDM characters will just find themselves in it.]

You feel like you're floating. Around you, colors and sounds and smells swirl as if trapped in a whirlpool, vibrancy and hue ever shifting. The more you watch them, the less solid they are; they only become clear out of the corner of your eye. The area around you begins to feel more solid as well, until your feet are on the ground, and a sour wind brushes across your face and through your hair. It seems to claw at your consciousness like chilling, spindly fingers -

and you know one thing, and one thing alone: this is a dream, and an incredibly realistic one at that.


The Nightmarescape

This is Aefenglom, and yet it isn't, at the same time. A large Victorian-styled city of cobblestone streets and close-together buildings, cut through the center by the River Temese. Whether you recognize its specific features and structures or not, you know deep in your bones it isn't meant to look like this. It's subtle at first, but it becomes more and more obvious the longer you walk the cobblestone streets. Everything is... almost gray, desaturated in color. Buildings are crooked, tilting at improbable angles. Clocks are upside-down. Writing is backwards or unrecognizable. The night sky above bears a greenish hue to it, and the stars seem to swim in and out of different formations. The city is also hauntingly empty - except for your fellow dreamers. The space yawns like it wants to be filled with life; it craves, it's hungry for it.



A City Void of Life
It does begin to fill, in time. The longer you're present in the dream, the more things shift and slide. You can feel it drawing from you, your memories, your thoughts and feelings, seeking out your fears and anxieties, your worries and your upsets. It slips right into your cracks and it digs out what it seeks. It turns the shadows of your mind into horrifying possibilities. Twisted features from your life overlay themselves on the empty city of Aefenglom - a single room, a building, a creature, a person. Not quite memories, they're all off in some way, adapting to the dream, warping. Don't get taken in by familiarity: whatever has drawn itself from your head is very, very dangerous. Shadows lurk where they shouldn't, once welcoming rooms close in on and threaten to suffocate you, a friendly creature's teeth and claws become pronounced and vicious, the darkened figure of a loved one watches you with blank eyes and malice in their smile.

Whatever has appeared, it's a manifestation of your nightmares, and it wants to hurt you and the other dreamers around you. Maybe it's a dark what-if that has whispered in your ear at night, a bad end that you feared but never came to fruition, or maybe it's simply just the ugly representation of your greatest fear. Whatever it is, it's out for blood, and it's joined by fragments from the other dreamers. Hopefully you find a friend to help you out. If there was ever a time for a team-up.

It's possible to leave the nightmarescape Aefenglom to try and escape these bad ends and what ifs. Time and space work strangely in this dream, and it's just a few steps to Dorchacht or the Wilde, or a quick tumble to the caverns Underground. Movement seems to be more about intent than direction. But it just gives a new backdrop for your nightmares, because they will follow, they will pursue you doggedly, melding into the scenery.


Face Your Fears
Those who came here on purpose know what the mission is: to collect the crystallized magical energy present in this dreamscape to wake a city cursed to sleep forever. Let the others know, the ones who wound up here on accident, and maybe they can help you - each fragment of a nightmare contains this energy, even theirs, and can be collected and brought back by the dreamers who will wake at the Coven. The energy presents as black orbs, hard and clear like glass, no bigger than large marbles, with images of your terrors dancing deep within them.

Coming by these orbs isn't exactly easy, however. To do so, you have to face manifestations of your worst fears. Defeat them - physically, emotionally, by standing up to them and staring them in the face, there are many ways to banish a nightmare - and they'll condense down into the dark glass pieces. With each defeat, the changes to the landscape sprung out of your head will disappear, and that part of Aefenglom (or Dorchacht, or the Underground, or the Wilde) will right itself, ease back into something normal, the oppressive air fading. The shadows will shorten and color will seep back into that patch of scenery.

And hold tight to those crystals if you dare - other nightmares are drawn to them. These may not even belong to anyone in particular, but to the continent of Geardagas itself: grasping Shades of Monsters and Witches both, with white eyes and blackened skin, who wish to spread their infection; half-burned Dryads screaming for help; gleeful, malicious Fae playing terrible tricks, more twisted and insectoid than the Fae most know; a growing, creeping blackness that can only be the Cwyld itself. Even the land you walk on, or may walk on in the future, has many fears.

It's a good thing some of you have new abilities at hand, and some of you have a few neat changes to help, or perhaps they aren't new at all. Regardless, use your abilities well and work together, it's time to face your fears.


Flitting Shadows
Those who are attuned to their surroundings might notice something off - beyond everything else that is already quite off, that is. The sense of being watched, wherever you go, no matter where you turn, is strong and creeping, until it consumes your consciousness. Always just outside your peripheral vision is a presence, a shadow, lean and cloaked. No matter how quickly you run or how suddenly you turn to catch it, you can never quite get a glimpse of the figure's face, if it even has one. Trying too hard will make you dizzy, nauseous, as it evades and evades and evades. You might not be able to see a face, or much more than the vaguest hint of a shape, but it sees you.

Don't let yourself be distracted from your mission, or from simple survival if you aren't the heroic type. If you linger trying to catch the specter at the edge of your vision, the nightmares will find you, readily and easily, vicious and ready to make you fight for your life. Ignore the sound of wings flapping in the distance, a whisper in an indistinct voice, words you can't hope to understand or even separate from the gnawing paranoia that roars in your ears.

The presence never reveals itself, and never attacks you directly. You get the sense that it's trying to determine what, exactly, you're doing - and that maybe it's trying to sabotage your efforts to collect the hard glass marbles of energy from this plane.

moustre: (Default)

QUESTIONS

[personal profile] moustre 2020-09-23 01:15 am (UTC)(link)
foundfamilies: (so just come talk to me)

[personal profile] foundfamilies 2020-09-23 02:14 am (UTC)(link)
1) I expect that I know the answer to this one, but just to be sure: Will attempts to communicate with the presence in Flitting Shadows cause anything to happen?

2) Would repeated attempts to make contact with the presence result in more nightmares tracking you down each time, fewer, or no noticeable change? Would it be different depending on how you were trying to contact it (peaceful communication like the above vs. trying to get rid of it vs. trying to study it)?

Look, you called it flitting shadows and Leslie thinks of darkness/shadows as friendly. I gotta ask even if I’m pretty sure the answer is just “prepare for a bad time.”
moustre: (Default)

[personal profile] moustre 2020-09-23 02:49 am (UTC)(link)
1. No, the presence is content to stay just on the edge of perception, and won't reveal itself.

2. More nightmares. The longer someone stays in one place distracted by trying to track down the presence, the easier they are to find for the nightmare fragments. This is regardless of how one tries to communicate with it.

Basically, prepare for a bad time, yes.
roombamastermind: (007)

Croix Meridies | Little Witch Academia

[personal profile] roombamastermind 2020-09-23 02:58 am (UTC)(link)
Croix isn't naive. She's able to tell there's something abnormal going on; she's read enough magical theory both to recognize that she's dreaming, and that dreams have a power beyond simply being experiences when one is asleep. That puts her on guard the entire time, which is good, because things quickly become stranger to her than a matter of upside down clocks and incomprehensible texts.

It first comes in subtle ways. The english city begins to metamorphose into one with features of another, with smaller, quaint shops, some dirt roads, more surrounding foliage and cleaner air and brighter skies. It'd be idyllic and nostalgic, she'd think, if not for the mobs that appear.

At first, they're just clumps of people, clustered together. Everyday people, gathered together a bit unnaturally. Then... then Croix notices they're watching her. Her specifically. She turns, and walks down a different street... only to find another group waiting for her. This time they have pitchforks, and picket signs, and bricks.

Croix breaks into a run. They begin to pursue her. The sad thing is, this isn't a nightmare she's unaccustomed to. As if on cue, the sky goes dark around her immediate area, and the scent of sizzling fires waft in the air. Cries break through the silence of the nightmarescape, as Croix ducks down an alleyway, out of breath.

"No goal!" they cry, as the steps of many feet fill the streets. Strange, cubical machines also appear in the air, hovering about, omnipresent.

What can Croix say about all of it?

"Not again," she groans, covering her face with one hand.
foundfamilies: (and I can barely breathe)

[personal profile] foundfamilies 2020-09-23 03:00 am (UTC)(link)
1. I figured, but hey, worth a shot!

2. How long does this...debuff(?) last? If someone tries chasing down the presence and is now easier to find for nightmare fragments, do they eventually return to normal level of detectability or is it just you shouldn't have done that and now you gotta deal? If it's the former, would it be like starting over from zero if they get distracted by the presence again after they returned to normal, or does it immediately ramp back up to where it left off?

Thanks for indulging my questions about How To Have An Even Worse Time.
stardustish: (tumblr_inline_ozg9n9pG9N1s4tkkb_100)

sylvia kawano / original / ota

[personal profile] stardustish 2020-09-23 03:29 am (UTC)(link)
a city void of life.

    [ There’s not enough time to recover in between the battle on the streets and the 27th -- today -- when Nessie summons those who are willing to help over to the Coven. Sylvia doesn’t have time to process what took place just a few days ago, and she’s strangely solemn when the rundown and the mushrooms are given. She has her knife from the Matriarch in her utility belt, her gauntlets, and...not much else. Still, she’s going to do this. There are too many people who need help out there.

    She knows there’s something wrong the instant she sees Aefenglom again after that strange sequence, not through being observant but by knowing what her mission is. She’s on-edge and it looks like she’s not here to play games. It’s not hard to notice the crooked buildings or the upside-down clocks, however, and her hand stays on the hilt of her knife.

    It’s not until a little while later when she hears footsteps shuffling towards her when she’s exploring the Haven. Sylvia turns her head towards the sound and -- well. That’s certainly a familiar face. A girl with shoulder-length black hair, bangs neatly laid across her forehead emerges. She's wearing all black, but when she emerges from an alleyway, it's not hard to see that her clothes are stained with blood. When she gets closer to Sylvia, her lips form a sinister grin, eyes red. Blank. Evil.

    Vengeful.

    Sylvia looks to the right, and then to the left. Someone (you!) is nearby. She takes in a breath and exhales loudly, taking out the obsidian knife from her belt.
    ]

    Stand back, I’ll deal with this. She’s mine.

    [ Her teeth are grit, and her eyes are laser-focused on the girl with the red eyes. And yet, her voice is shaky. She doesn't move, either -- what a time for freeze or flee to kick in, huh? Might need some help shaking out of that. Puca things.

    There are also shadows creeping in from the walls around them. This isn't good. The girl, inching slowly towards Sylvia, lets one thing escape from her lips in a gritty, distorted voice:
    ]

    This is my revenge.


face your fears.

    [ This dreamscape is much more than Sylvia bargained for, but she’s adamant about not giving up. She’s battered and worn from fighting off her nightmares, but even so, she doesn’t want to turn her back on the people who need help. She doesn’t know if she can do it a second time, after all.

    The fear that manifests when she sees the black orb is...unusual. Everything in her field of vision goes white.

    The area she’s caught in is enclosed, manifesting as a large white sphere. She can’t hear anyone outside of the white space, and there’s a feeling of isolation that overwhelms her. Voices can be heard faintly from outside of the bubble -- You’re alone, and you always have been -- that are stronger from within. Those phrases are on repeat, over and over again, and anyone who comes close enough to the sphere can hear the muffled sounds of someone crying, occasionally yelling something ("Shut up!") from within, along with the sinister voices.

    There is no way to enter the strange sphere. However, should you choose to try to reach out verbally, you’ll be met with a response:
    ]

    W-Who’s there?!


wildcard.

    [ Hit me up with whatever! I’m over at [plurk.com profile] amplitude if you want to plot. ]
moustre: (Default)

[personal profile] moustre 2020-09-23 03:31 am (UTC)(link)
2. They'll return to normal detectability after they've ceased trying to track down the presence / are paying attention to their surroundings more again. It's less a debuff and more that it's too hard to both try to seek out the presence always at the very edge of your vision and keep an eye on what's going on around you, no matter how perceptive or aware the character normally is. The nightmares just pounce on those who are vulnerable / not aware.
foundfamilies: (I'm trying so)

[personal profile] foundfamilies 2020-09-23 03:45 am (UTC)(link)
Oh, I see! That makes perfect sense to me now. Thanks again!
galrarm: (Let's focus up people.)

a city void of life.

[personal profile] galrarm 2020-09-23 03:51 am (UTC)(link)
[ Shiro, quite simply, isn't sure what to think of the whole thing. The only thing he can do, really, is stay on-guard--it's a horribly familiar feeling, one that he hasn't felt this intensely in quite some time.

Also familiar is who's standing nearby. A friend. Sylvia. Shiro wastes no time moving closer to her, and he lets his hand hover over her shoulder. If she allows it? He'll touch her shoulder. Give it a squeeze. Maybe that'll help ground her, because while he isn't sure what's going on, he does know pure fear when he sees it. ]


You aren't alone. I've got your back.
nau: (pic#14226450)

lalli hotakainen | stand still stay silent

[personal profile] nau 2020-09-23 04:34 am (UTC)(link)
a city void of life; warning for body horror heyyooo
[Empty cities are familiar, now, though this city has not fallen to the same level of disrepair as most of the cities he's seen in the silent world. It just seems like everyone has just left, just another strange thing about this place that's not quite right.

The city gets stranger still - Lalli notices when things start to shift and change, tension settling in his shoulders as he makes his way through the empty city. He's looking for life - any life at all. An animal. A person. Anything that would show he's not alone.

And he's not. He hears the skittering and moaning before he sees... It. It drags itself along, wounded and moaning in pain. It's wrapped in fabric, spindly legs dragging it forward. Greying hair sprouts from it's head, and it's ribcage gapes open to reveal a mess of organs and gore. Lalli hasn't seen Hilja in twelve years, now, but he couldn't forget her. Even without the odd, shared dream-memory, he's never forgotten her.

He takes a breath, steadying himself for a moment before pushing forward through the streets. Don't make eye contact. Don't listen. She's dead - her spirit was - Ensi saw that her soul made the journey. This is just a nightmare. All the while Hilja follows, whimpering and groaning. It's dark, which means she doesn't have to hide, and Lalli ducks through the alleyway. He can't be alone. Onni - Onni has to be nearby. Or Reynir, even, or Emil. One of them has to be here, and they can - help. They can help.

Soon, though, he finds someone, and even if he doesn't recognize them he can feel relief dragging his shoulders down.]


Don't look it in the eyes.

[He has no idea if they'll understand him, but they have to know. The sounds of the troll are distant, yes, but he knows she still follows.]

face your fears;
[Gathering the crystals seems - Well. Not quite pointless, exactly. A quick explanation from someone who was supposed to be there was informative enough, but it's an odd sort of magic, isn't it? Crystals. He almost doesn't believe it, but...

The ears on his head flick and swivel, and the tail is honestly kind of annoying, but. It's undeniable that things here are not like how things are back in Finland. Which. That's fine. It seems ridiculous and stupid, but fine. He's - he's some sort of beast that's not a beast, still has his presence of mind, but it's stupid.

He grumbles, tucking another crystal into the pocket of his cape alongside his Rubik's cube. His body feels weak and shaky from the adrenaline, the fear he has to keep swallowing down, but... He's not going to ignore this. He's not going to pretend this isn't happening. He's going to get these crystals, and then he's going to get out of here.

He looks up, scowling, and makes a show of pulling his cape close.]


You're going to have to get your own.

[This is a competition now, apparently.]

wildcard;
[Go buckwild! If you want to hash something out, feel free to PM me!]
itsjiaheng: (it's just pretty too not sorry)

jongdae lee | oc | ota

[personal profile] itsjiaheng 2020-09-23 04:37 am (UTC)(link)
↳ { a city void of life; }
[ jongdae received no prep for any of this whatsoever on account of not expecting to end up in any mysterious and untested dreamscapes today. tonight. he shouldn't even be asleep on account of this night being firmly within his waking hours, what with being a vampire and all. which.. is where he's been. the world spins on around him, more or less — does geardagas spin, exactly? whatever — while he's been trying to deal with fully adjusting to the circumstances of his new life. it's a lot.

but more importantly, he shouldn't be here. he knows himself and therefore knows better than to willingly go poking around in places that might potentially empower the things living in his subconscious.

so, funny story.. that's exactly what's happening.

something's been chasing him for awhile at this point and while he doesn't know what it is in detail, he has a feeling. jongdae's not exactly expecting anyone else to be around when he comes tearing around a corner looking for a way out of this place that seems to change just enough to keep him lost. he's also not shy about grabbing whoever it is and pulling them along with him into a shady little alley way to hide. he will definitely cover your mouth too if you try to ask questions! ]


Just be quiet and keep looking at it!

[ the 'it' in question has the shape of a young girl. in a very horror movie fashion she has long, straight hair that hangs loose and partially obscures her face. her hands do the rest, covering her eyes. her skin has an unhealthy pallor to it and she seems to be dressed in something like a hospital gown.

jongdae never takes his eyes off of her ( and ideally whoever he's dragged along into this adventure hasn't either? ) until he manages to duck into what looks seems to be the back door of what might be a proper shop in the waking world. here it's just a dusty, dark room with not enough light to know what exactly is lining the shelves.

he's not much concerned with that as much as he is shutting the door and leaning his back against it for good measure, trying to catch his breath and try not to cry. ]


Look, I'm sorry I grabbed you but—.. do you have any idea what the hell is going on here?

[ hope you weren't on a mission or anything.. ]
Edited 2020-09-23 04:38 (UTC)
silentsavant: (=104=)

wildcard

[personal profile] silentsavant 2020-09-23 06:48 am (UTC)(link)
[As always in these dreams, Soren takes wing to analyze the terrain from above with the natural advantage of flight, clings to towers and tall structures like an oversized bat huddles into alcoves and nooks. Greater distances unfold before him. But a trace of Ike (or more pertinently, Drummond) remains to be seen...

It's difficult to scout such a distorted landscape that warps and bends, shifts with shadows at the corners and screams with terrors conjured by the worst nightmares of other dreamers. What's worse, he's always been highly attuned to his environment, so the tortured emotions of this place set him on edge.

Lalli can hear the steady whoosh of his leathery wings beating as he flies through the darkened streets. The small dragon has dipped in elevation down to the second story of most buildings. The form roaming the cobblestone streets catches Soren's eye. Any soul in this devoid labyrinth of a collective unconscious is remarkable, but as he draws nearer, something about him starts to stand out.

Soren halts his flight about five meters away, swooping out of the air and onto his boots with a few final pronounced flaps. His eyes sharp, reptilian, and crimson bore into the other dreamer with pupils expanding and constricting as though appraising him like a suspicious alley cat, and the stern sobriety of his scale-pocked face softens with a note of surprised recognition.]


...Lalli?

[Emil...]
Edited (i'm a grammar wizard) 2020-09-23 06:50 (UTC)
scowlish: (hiding)

a. hilja

[personal profile] scowlish 2020-09-23 07:20 am (UTC)(link)
Mhm.

[It feels almost normal being in a dream like this, even the parts that are strange or twisted into strangeness, the physics of everything a little wrong. Between the dream realm back home and the dreams he's started to have since he arrived in this place, this just feels like a strange mix, a combination of the two, conscious and in control but still with that weirdness to everything that comes with non-mage dream logic.

So, at first, it just seems normal to see Lalli here. Just for a second, Onni reaches for his dagger, keeps his eyes averted, and goes through the normal motions of interacting with his cousin in a dream. It's only after a split second of that normality that he suddenly registers that Lalli isn't here and that the sound of a troll chasing him is all too distinctive. The moment that clicks, he moves with a sort of instinct born of being a mage for as long as he has, being in the Silent World for as long as he has. Reaching out, he takes hold of Lalli's sleeve and ducks down an alley, pulling his cousin with him. He has the advantage of being somewhat familiar with this place, and so he thinks he knows where there might be some kind of alcove they can hide in. That if they're quiet and still the thing might pass.

Pulling Lalli along with him, he bodily shoves and drags his cousin into a shallow archway that used to be some kind of door but has since been bricked up. There's just enough space there that Lalli's skinny body can fit and be completely obscured from view, and Onni presses in close to keep Lalli in that space of safety between the brick and his own body, glancing quickly back toward the entry to the alley. The thing skitters by at a startling fast pace, making that sick whimpering noise that sounds somehow familiar, but then it stops, and Onni can hear it shuffling around as if it's looking for where they might have gone.

And then it shuffles back into view.

It's immediately obvious what it is. Who it is, with that greying hair and that familiar cloak, and he realizes why the whimpering voice sounded familiar. Gut churning with sudden nausea, he bends his head down and lifts a hand to pull up his hood, hoping it'll help shield his eyes.]


It's her, isn't it?

[It's a soft, barely audible whisper. Onni hadn't seen Hilja when it happened, he hadn't seen what she'd become. He'd only heard from Lalli what had happened, what she'd been like, what she'd done, and Lalli hadn't been able to be very clear about anything, he'd had to make so many inferences and assumptions. But this is unquestionably her, he can recognize her even like this, from hours of training while his grandmother had been out scouting with Lalli.

Keeping his eyes shut tightly, he feels his hands clench into fists against the wall, his whole body shaking.]
Edited 2020-09-23 07:20 (UTC)
stopfen: (Default)

[personal profile] stopfen 2020-09-23 07:26 am (UTC)(link)
With the character's injuries transfer to the dream part, would the opposite be true as well?

So characters who are already hurt, remain hurt?
nau: (pic#14226310)

[personal profile] nau 2020-09-23 07:34 am (UTC)(link)
[The sound of wings is almost, somehow, piercing - this city is well and truly silent, empty of devoid of life. The sound of something movement - something too large to be a bird or a bat - gets his attention. His eyes scan the skies for what it could be.

What he sees isn't something he could have ever predicted. A man that is not really a man, but that seems more... More human and less twisted than a beast, or troll, or giant. The inhumanness is unsettling, still, and Lalli finds himself on edge. He takes in the scales, the horns, the wings, tail, the eyes that are undeniably that of a predator.

All he has to protect himself is his grandmother's rifle, heavy on his back. He could pray to his gods, but he does not think they can hear him.

The recognition and the sound of his name startle him, and his eyes narrow suspiciously at the man.]


Who are you?
nau: (pic#14226339)

[personal profile] nau 2020-09-23 07:41 am (UTC)(link)
[Seeing Onni is a relief and a comfort, even with all the questions Lalli has for him. What is this place? Why is everything so strange? Why is a woman long since dead here?

(Why did Onni leave? Why did Onni lie to him? Why doesn't he trust him? Did Lalli do something wrong? Is it because of--)

He lets himself get dragged along without protest, pressing close to his cousin as they weave through alleyways until Onni seems satisfied with their hiding place. He still keeps his eyes on the entrance, or as much as he can with Onni's bulk blocking him. After a moment, though, he closes his eyes and sags against the bricks.]


...It is.

[Lalli didn't know Hilja nearly as well as Onni does. He knows this. He only knew her as their grandmother's friend, as another mage who would go out to help clean out the forests. Onni, though, trained with her. Trained with more of the mages in the village than Lalli did, certainly, but he had come to learn that Onni had been fond of Hilja after everything happened. He hadn't quite understood it at the time, had been too young or too shocked by everything that happened, how Onni could be upset over someone who killed their family, how Onni could mourn her, but...

He lets out a breath.]


I don't understand. Her soul... It should be in Tuonela.

[Where it belongs. Ensi stayed behind, Ensi made sure she passed on. Lalli heard her tell the other scouts that she would make sure of it, and Ensi wasn't someone who failed.]
silentsavant: (=58=)

[personal profile] silentsavant 2020-09-23 07:50 am (UTC)(link)
[Such a reaction is only natural, but Soren didn't exactly have the luxury of figuring on a better approach than what emerged from the abruptness of this serendipitous meeting. His tail slides across the street to curl loosely at his side, his wings folding up tighter.]

...I should explain myself. I have never personally met you. However, given the nature of the nightmare you are now experiencing, would it be difficult for you to believe me when I tell you that I have seen you before through the dream of someone else?

[This has the potential to get fairly awkward and invasive: for either party, and a third who is no longer with them. But Soren would rather untangle this issue than leave any of the confusion he engendered in Lalli's brain. His eyes fall to the uneven slabs of cold stone that make up the footpath.]

Emil was his name, if that lends more credence.
nau: (pic#14226320)

[personal profile] nau 2020-09-23 07:58 am (UTC)(link)
[Soren seeing him through a dream is... Actually completely reasonable. That happens to Lalli more frequently than he wants to admit, between Reynir's bustling nosiness and everything that happened and continues to happen with Emil. Dreams aren't as solitary as people assume, and he himself has seen other people see his past through a dream.

So.

That makes sense.

What doesn't make sense is just about everything else. Lalli looks at him, calculating, nose scrunching up as he tries to just understand what he's looking at. His gaze falls on the tail, and he frowns.]


Where is he?

[Knowing Emil, probably doing something stupid or blowing something up. Or being stupid by blowing something up.]
prettyrocks: (12)

Tsutha Stoneblood | OC (witch)

[personal profile] prettyrocks 2020-09-23 08:40 am (UTC)(link)
a city devoid of life
[ Tsutha has been to many cities in the past year or so. Considering she'd never been to any cities before, the number seems quite impressive to her, at least. Tarl, Meadowwilde, the capital city of Shartis itself... Yet this city she finds herself in now isn't familiar at all. She's never walked down these particular cobblestone streets. Everything seems... off, in a way she doesn't quite know how to explain, but that she feels straight down in her core.

She turns to the next person she sees on the street, be they human or anything else. (She's green and tusked, who is she to judge by appearances?) ]


Um. Do you know where we are? I think I got separated from my friends.

[ It almost feels like a vision, but her visions have never felt this tangible before, so she thinks it must be real somehow. Still, she can't find Walter, Marzia, or Adari (or Adari's moose) anywhere. She hasn't felt this lost since she first left her tribe. ]


face your fears (cw: blood, violence)
[ Travel is achieved by means of intent, and at a certain point, Tsutha intends to escape this strange, terrifying city. She finds herself out in the wilderness, at the mouth of a cave that is both familiar and not. She doesn't think it's the home of her people, but she's so desperate for something familiar that she latches onto it blindly and goes deeper inside anyway. What she sees becomes every more familiar, and ever more frightening. Sinister plants grow all along the walls of the cave, obscuring the runic writing on the walls of what is clearly a stone temple. The place is deserted, save for Tsutha, whoever embedded up here with her, and two individuals standing beside the large stone altar: A large, grey-skinned orcish man even larger than Tsutha herself, and a lithe woman with midnight black skin and shocking white hair. The man holds a book with strange, illegible writing inside it and a symbol of an eye emblazoned on the cover that seems to follow your gaze no matter where you step in the room. The drow woman has in her hand a sharp, twisted looking knife, dripping wet with dark blood. That's when you notice the pile of bodies collapsed on the floor surrounding the altar, their faces frozen in fear and pain.

Tsutha's eyes spring wide open, wet with tears of devastated rage. Reacting without thinking, she starts to gather together a ball of flame in her palm, bigger and bigger, until the fire threatens to consume the entire cave.

What will you do? ]


[ ooc: will match prose or brackets! hmu for plotting at Chris_#9103 / [plurk.com profile] millennialfalcon if you want to come up with a different starter! ]
Edited 2020-09-23 08:41 (UTC)
prettyrocks: (10)

face your fears

[personal profile] prettyrocks 2020-09-23 08:50 am (UTC)(link)
[ Tsutha doesn't know where she is. Which wouldn't normally be so unusual... She doesn't know precisely where she is a lot of the time. But usually when she doesn't know where she is, she at least has her friends with her to tell her where she needs to go. She can't find her friends in this weird, foreign city, and it's beginning to worry her.

All thought of finding her friends is forgotten, though, when she comes across a blank white sphere with someone clearly trapped inside. Curious, Tsutha goes closer, and listens to the sinister voices torturing whoever it is that's trapped. Feeling bad for the person, Tsutha bangs her hands on the barrier of the sphere, trying to get their attention. ]


Hey! Hey, I don't know who you are, but you're not alone, okay? I'm right here!
prettyrocks: (picrew 9)

[personal profile] prettyrocks 2020-09-23 08:57 am (UTC)(link)
[ It's a good thing he clamped his hand over her mouth, because Tsutha was definitely about to loudly ask just what in the what was going on, and why was she being grabbed. But after that terse warning, her eyes flicker back and forth from her captor's face to the creepy little human girl, unsure which she should be more afraid of. Because that's clearly a vampire with his hand over her mouth, right? She's not imagining things?

Then he's ducking into the back door of a shop and Tsutha follows just for want of anything better to do. Finally, the hand over her mouth is gone and she can take a deep, relieving breath. ]


Uhhhh, no? I don't even know where I am right now. [ Besides some shop. She turns to a nearby shelf, picking up a dusty bottle half filled with some mysterious liquid, and turning it over in her hands idly as she turns back to watch the vampire. ]

You're not going to, like, bite me or anything, are you?
silentsavant: (=102=)

[personal profile] silentsavant 2020-09-23 09:57 am (UTC)(link)
[His heart sinks. It's just the helpless uncertainty borne from an exhaustive lack of understanding that pushes it under. Emil was beginning to mean something to him.]

I can't answer that with confidence. I haven't seen him around in months. But if he's not dreaming with us right now, he's probably wherever he belongs, which is where you do. [He raises his head.] We are currently dreaming in a world named Talam, and some immense magical power that has so far eluded anyone's understanding can draw people from completely different places and times together. Usually, they share a dream such as this, with others who are already bound to Talam by this magic. Then, usually in a few days, they may find that they have come through a mirror in a place called the Looking-Glass House... except they are no longer just dreaming.

Emil came from a mirror like that. He was a Witch, meaning he possessed a spark of magic. [His sights fall to his own tail as well. The tip waves up and down.] Those who do not find themselves becoming Monsters. It is possible to enter a sort of trance and go back into the mirror that one came from, but how this trance gets triggered is anyone's guess.

[He would love to enter one of those and be done with this miserable parade of Ikelessness.]

I imagine that was Emil's fate.
Edited 2020-09-23 09:58 (UTC)
prettyrocks: (07)

facing fears

[personal profile] prettyrocks 2020-09-23 10:02 am (UTC)(link)
[ It had been hard, for Tsutha to understand why she was here, and what the purpose of going through these repeated nightmares was. But once someone explained it to her, she got it. She knew that the crystallized energy that made up these nightmares would help a lot of people, so it was to everyone's best interests that they gather as much of it as they can.

She doesn't really get why this guy seems to intent on hoarding the crystals he's managed to collect, but she looks from his closed off posture to her own hand, holding the two crystals she's been able to gather. Frowning in thought, she holds out her hand. ]


Do you want mine? I can find some more.
fuelingfire: (Default)

Lahabrea | FFXIV

[personal profile] fuelingfire 2020-09-23 10:41 am (UTC)(link)
Void Of Life

This is strange immediately, before shadows and creatures twist into threatening things; Lahabrea does not dream of foreign cities. His whims do not generally take him to places he's never seen, nor do they usually focus on architecture the way this does, and he knows it's a dream. But why here? Why this?

Confusion keeps him mute, though his bootsteps ring hollow on the cobblestones between buildings, one more shadowy shape amongst shadowy shapes, dark clad and red masked, nearly every feature hidden away out of sight beyond a humanoid form and average height. Maybe he's one of the nightmare creatures slowly forming in this place. Certainly nothing seems familiar to him. Not the smells of the air. Not the unsettling sky.

The Speaker has few fears he'd ever acknowledge.

But the shadows pale in his wake instead of deepen, and as he hunts irritably through alleys and streets, frustration growing in time to his disquiet, something follows him on quiet footsteps. If one were generous they might say it has a feline shape, were felines made of bone and tangling frosted vines and too many faces and mouths. Where it steps, the gray fades to still, unchanging white, and Lahabrea himself ... Well, he's pointedly ignoring it. This is a dream, and anything in it is thus mere imagination, to be ignored and dealt with the same as anyone might any petty delusion. It will fade when he wakes.

The pale thing changing the shadows gradually to light like a spreading blight of emptiness gives a low, multivoiced chuckle as it passes, bleached bones rattling. The longer it's ignored, the bigger it gets.

Face Your Fears

About now, Lahabrea is thoroughly done with this dreamscape. It's not a nightmare - calling it so would acknowledge that he too can still be affected by things like soul-deep terror, and he's adamantly refused to acknowledge even the possibility. So it's an annoyance, and one he's fed up with. Unease and fear make for easy outlets in wrath, and here and there parts of the dream burn in the wake of his nervous ire.

At least something's changed, and that he can grasp onto and focus on instead of the nameless, shapeless nightmares that creep about, and these black orbs..

Well, he hasn't found one til now, and it's already occupied. Which means the person who'd found it is immediately accosted by an irritable man in a black robe. They'd already conquered a fear. He has not.

"You." His voice is less than pleasant, a dry brittle rasp. One clawed hand points at the orb. Is he one of the nightmares? Is that thing? It's hard to tell, the mask covers any sign of whether or not he might be afraid, or causing fear. "Are you the cause of this?"

Other terrors are on their way, alerted by that shiny little black orb.

[Wildcard: got something else in mind? Lahabrea has no problem lurking around other people's traumas, and might be easily mistaken as part of the nightmarescape if one was so inclined. Or anything else for that matter! I am open to anyone and anything, bring on the serious or the hideous mood change! Will Match Format!]
Edited 2020-09-23 10:48 (UTC)
unsundered: (★071)

void

[personal profile] unsundered 2020-09-23 01:04 pm (UTC)(link)
On the other hand, Emet-Selch recognized this city, even distorted.

He'd been trapped there for nearly a year, after all, a fate that he'd once viewed with absolute displeasure, despising what it had done to him. The loss of his magic, his sight, given information about a future he could do naught to avoid- the insults this world had laid on him were considerable. Unforgivable. And while he still had no love for the world itself, no interest in its welfare for good or ill (this wasn't a shard to be Rejoined; this star's fate mattered not in the slightest), it had all become complicated.

But it's not something he considers as he steps through this conscious nightmare. Through this place unwantedly-familiar, but twisted, his movement no more hurried than it ever was. There was a tension unavoidable (of course there was, with whispers lurking at the edges of his hearing, shapes that moved and laughed and hissed at the corner of his vision- things that would drive anyone mad, were they allowed to persist), and danger omnipresent. But at the moment, Emet-Selch's own issues refused to manifest- which in itself was both unsettling and frustrating, the irritation of having nothing concrete facing him, and the unease of never knowing when that might change.

Running into anyone was a potential cause for concern; there was little way of telling at a glance who was real and who was not, and familiar faces in particular were a reason for suspicion. Yet when a known, unexpected figure emerges from the grey of the backdrop of the city, followed by a trail of corrupted shadows, steps made unnaturally pale by whatever living distortion was stalking him- Emet-Selch is made to stop. To still, his thoughts as disrupted as the city around him.

The sight of Lahabrea there would've been an ominous thing for most people, he suspected, even those who knew nothing of him, or of what the sight of an Ascian portended. Their robes weren't exactly a friendly look, and the mask was little more inviting. Considering the atmosphere of the place, he almost fit in.

--But this was probably just a delusion. As for why Lahabrea in particular would choose to manifest before him, Emet-Selch couldn't begin to guess. Nor did he want to even begin to untangle what he thought about seeing him again- one of the two who had been there from the end of their world alongside him. And while Elidibus had become more of a stranger with every passing year, had vanished piecemeal before their eyes- Lahabrea had burned and burned... his death had been inevitable. And unlike their sundered brethren, he'd never see him again, even in part. Resentment, grief, startle, confusion. An unpleasant mix of feelings to sort through, and no convenient place to start- and no convenient time too, with their setting twisted.

It was complicated, in short. And far easier to just consider this some strange haunt his subconscious mind had decided to plague him with. So it's with an internal sigh that Emet-Selch approaches, his steps that touch heavier. Whatever the reason for this meeting, he doubted it meant anything good. But he couldn't just ignore him either. In some small way, even if none of this was real- it wasn't. Terrible, to see him again.

"Lahabrea," though not loud, his voice carries in the stillness of the air. Or perhaps it was a quirk of this shared dreamscape, sound doing as it liked, following or denying rules as it chose. "As places go... this wouldn't have been my first choice for a reunion."