🌑︎ 🌑︎

[crittersheep]

WHO: all
WHERE: all
WHEN: Day 9, evening into night

[the sun goes down; the two moons rise.

it all looks...quite different. the laundromat lengthens and transforms the silhouette of Woolietown in the distance. the lighthouse beacon comes to life for the first time, throwing strong, brilliant light and stark shadows across the meadow and into the barns. the lazy river encircles the pasture in a glittering band, the bobbing shapes of the pool toys a little bit eerie until they drift into full view.

perhaps some of you are winding down. perhaps some of you are just gearing up for a wild adventure in the shadows. perhaps some of you, regardless of if you sleep or stay up, find your dreams and nightmares crawling out beyond the bounds of your own head tonight, drawing others in...

the night is full of possibilities.]

Comments

Nightmare Jams! (cw: death and graves and claustrophobic things lolz)

[ohlord]

[for as barren and dull as it is with sand, stone, and not much else, buildings that look like they're crumbling from being shot to hell and back and just from a general lack of wealthy maintenance--everything looks as though it's handcrafted and put together with hopes and prayers that it'll last just a little bit longer... this small village is pretty peaceful under the glaring desert sun.

there's a church's chapel making up the larger portion of the still standing walls of the area. a beaten and retired couch sitting amongst some rubble off to the side. the sand's covered the worst of the bloodstains that can still be spotted here and there painting the earth and cloth a rusty brown.

there's the sound of children playing somewhere within the church, happy and cheerful sounds as they go about their day. new adventures, a bright future ahead of them. but in the courtyard, a single handmade tombstone with a large cross looming over it sits quietly undisturbed.]

[endsjustified]

[oh it's going to be this again, huh.

Charon cuts an incongruous figure in this desert scene, dressed as he always is for late autumn or early winter, but he doesn't seem to feel the heat as he strides through the dream. he moves quietly out of the chapel and into the courtyard to observe the tombstone.]

Re: Nightmare Jams! (cw: death and graves and claustrophobic things lolz)

[electricflock]

[where is this and why is there so much sand. nowhere should have this much sand and hot, this beach is broken.

slinks cautiously across the courtyard, keeping low to the ground. his tawny plumage was just a quirk back home in the flock’s cities, but it’s unexpectedly decent camouflage in a desert.]

[featherduster]

[ And whose dream is it, exactly?

'Cause he's had this one dozens of times, though this time his hands aren't bloody from the handle of a shovel. ]

[mykidisthebest]

[this is...a new kind of dream. he takes in the endless sand and stone with a weird pinprick in the back of his mind like this is almost familiar, like he's talked about this with someone recently. but it doesn't immediately spring to mind.

his feet take him slowly, carefully, across the courtyard, towards the tombstone]

[chasseurdebeaute]

[That lighthouse is proving to be wonderfully useful to one who has been 'clearing his head' in the woods for the past day and a half or so. A shadow drifts through the sky on a broom, flying above the beams of the lighthouse, to avoid getting blinded. Trailing after him, tied to the handle of the broom, are satchels of food foraged from the woods, gardening tools that he finally got around to experimenting with, and a couple modest hunts.

He'll be touching down at his barn before making rounds to store away the food or deliver garden tools he might have "borrowed", a good excuse to see the faces around before he turns in for the night.]

[endsjustified]

[late at night this night is either the best or worst time to catch Charon, depending on perspective. instead of risking a walkaround where he can get floored by someone's dream at any moment, he's taken up a seat under the peach tree, one knee drawn up and his head tipped back against the trunk a little. his malfunctioning eyes are shut but he isn't asleep; Rook would be able to tell from the tension in his body language and the way he's frowning in concentration.

he definitely is distracted enough by something, enough that he doesn't notice someone cross into Lily meadow at all, which is rare.]

[shortforever]

[He doesn't even have to stop flying to see this guy above the lighthouse lights. Because Odin is sitting on the roof of the lighthouse.

He's also looking befuddled at seeing someone fly on a broom.]

...the hell?

[terraria]

( the soft noise of feathers and a buffet of wind breaks through the still night. he's ever curious to know what this shadow is doing, and where it is going with such a variety of smells. and flying at night is tricky on his eyes, so he might as well follow his nose. )

[nightmare] [cw: suicide imagery, probably]

[debug_mode]

[there's...

n̸̦̳̉̆̽̋ò̶͍̼̱̞̰̱͎̫̙͒͒̈͊̃̑͌͌̕ẗ̶̡̨̠̩͔͎͎͕̭͈̹̯̫̲́̌h̸̡̡͓̱̘̗̽̏͊̐̃̀̚͜͠ï̵̧̥̭̰̮̝̘̭͍̜̌ͅn̵̢̹̙͇̞͈͖̘͈̥̰̆̓̿g̴̢͉̠̩̭̍̑̄̎͂͂̆̀͘

there was never...

a̶̪͚͇̝͠n̵̡̨̘̖̘͓̪̲̜̺̬̙̣̼͔͖̅̓̏̓̓̈̓͌͐̎̂̀̏͌̂͛̄̕͜͜͠ŷ̸͖̭̩̮̼̯͈̝͎̪̪͗́̿̆͒̀͐͘͠t̴̨͖̹͓̘̠̘̱̞̼͉̼̱̙͎̹̥̪͉̄͂̈́̀̏̊̎͒͆̐̎̕̕͠ȟ̵͖̗̕ï̵̢̨̡͉̦̫̬̳n̴͕̼̯̹̦̙̘̖͑͊͆̈́̾͗̌̊̇͂́́͒͠g̸͈̯̲̥̼̖̞̋̈́̀̉̉̀̑͂̀̕ͅ

You're in a void. It doesn't even qualify as a void. A void can be comprehended. A void would be completely empty and have no emotion in it. This? This has an atmosphere.


n̶̨̬̬̤̒͛̐̈̏̃͒̃o̷̡̡̯̤̻̫̱̖͖͆͐̕t̷̫̹͚̖͚̬͚̊͐͒̈́̀̄̋̏̆͛̽͂͌͐͘̕͠͝h̵̢͈̮͙̯̪̲̘̜̞̞̜̺̰̅̿͐̍̽̑̐̏͆̂̒̒͛̆̈́͋̈́͠ͅỉ̴̹̾̆͑̋̓͝ṉ̵̢̙̎͜g̶̝̪̲̜͓͚̲͇͚̠̝͍̱̩̅̍͊̊͑̌̐̌͜͜n̵̡̨̲̯͙̼̻̭̤̯̣̹̟͕̩̮̝̳͙͛̈͂͆̈́͋̈́̚͘͠e̴͚͈̮͚̞̹̟͔͍̭͑̏̉̅́̀̍̌̾͊ş̷̤̲̱̹̠̟̝͐̆̍̊̃̈́͌̏̋̆͑̆͆̈́̓̈́̚͜s̸̮̯͙͚̼̜̰̭̟̋ͅ ̴̢̢̙̟̯͇͚͚̟̣̱̍͋̿̈́͐̉d̷̨͉̲̠̟̣̫̀ͅe̶̛̥͂̓̆́̂̅̆̊ś̴̢̢͉͍̫̗̳͙̱̣͎̬̯͍̖̝̱͆̇͂̃̀́̿̀̚̕p̷̧̜̘̖̏̾̿̈́̄̒e̸̛̛̟̤͙͙͚̻͚͑͒̅͊̿̐͆͂̕̚r̶̻̩̠̩͑̂̎̋͊̓̄̇̇͛͂͒̐̅̏͘̕a̷̫̘͑̂̎͊̓̅̆̇̌ţ̴̦̆̈́̇̐͋̇͋͘i̷̧͈͈͚̩̠͓͆̀̕͝ó̸͉̜̐͒̽̏̈͐́̀̎̀̕̚͠ņ̴̈́͋̊͆͋̐̂̕ ̶̻͇̮̥̩̝͍̄̓̾̉̀͒̈́͂̇̆̍́̿̑̆̑͘͝ͅh̵͎̭̞̪̲̗͋̅̓͝ǫ̷̢͔̫͚͈̞̠̫̹̗̰̮͙̬̟͙͙͂͌͊͒̆̉̅̾̒̇̋̀̕͘͜͝p̴̡̠̳͓̪̰̗̙̼̦͎̲̞̒͐̀̈́̌̓̈́̌̎͑̈̈́̆̆̓͠͠ͅe̴̢̛̞̞̙͎̺̞̬̣͓͖͂́͂̓l̶̺̦̖͉̬̬̱̯̑͆͐̀̽͜͝ȩ̶̙̩̦͙̫̝̙͔͉̬̲̟̭̫̲͓̊̅̃̔̈͋̚ṡ̸̞͎͙͈̱̻̥̻̤̬̪̯̜̭̭̟̫̅̅͌̍̅̓̚̕͜ș̵̢̛̞̠̳̞͈͒͂̎͑͊̌͗̃̅̈̍̈́͂̇͑͠͠ṅ̵̗͉̖͉̻̏̍̇ę̸̧̨̠̤͍̪̪͍̦̩͉͇̹͈̯͈̪̒̎͜͠s̴̡̧̘͓̠͔̣̩͔̦̉͊̌̀̒͂̈́̃̊͝s̵̡̨̛̙̯̮͍͕̟̭̠̖͕̤̻͙̖̘͋͒̑̀̄̌̆̑͆͋͘̕͘ ̴͍̯͕̤͎͙̖̾̇d̶̜̾̊̎̒̿̈́̄̍͋̈́̏͗̋̃̃̊́̏̚ę̷̰͒̌̈̀̔̓̋̏̂͑̀̎̓̉͋͘͝ŝ̷̢̢̛͓͙̪̳̭͓́̏̀͆̿͂̅͛̏̂̄̒͝͝p̴̧̞̮̤͖̜̪̺̬͚̖͆̂͌́̉̇̓̐̐̉̇ą̵̲̹͉̜̳̹̰͚̬̹͙̩͍̼̼̳͚̳̎̾̇̎͑͒̎̀̔̍́̿͐̎̚͝ȋ̴̯̺̙̫͚͐̇͐̃͒̈̄͘r̵̡̨̛̮͓̜͖͚̼͎̫̻̣̯͙͍̖͚̂̾̃̊͑̀͌̃͜͝͝͝



and, sunk at the bottom of it all: regret.

You don't want to be here.]

[endsjustified]

[there's a man here now. he is frowning.

after a moment he speaks into the nothingness, for lack of something better to do with the place:]

You're correct. I don't wish to be here.

Re: [nightmare] [cw: suicide imagery, probably]

[pictureimperfect]

Nope nope nope nope nope.

[turns around and tries to walk away!!]

[survivaltricks]

[a flash of red. an alarm suddenly blares. you open your eyes, and--

[you're standing in the middle of a large museum, surrounded by elaborate painted portraits and glass podiums containing expensive jewelry. it only takes a moment to realize the alarm you hear is the museum alarm. the shattered glass at the base of one of the display cases, along with a large space, fit for a missing jewel, makes it very clear what's going on here]

[and ahead of you, leaning halfway through an open window, is Lupin]

[. . . dressed in black and white prison stripes, a black swashbuckling mask, and holding a bag that's no doubt full of expensive museum goods]

Aha! Nice try, detective!

[is he talking to you??]

But you're ten seconds too late!

[endsjustified]

[you have got to be kidding me. he'll play along for the moment, but he'll also take a quick glance down at himself to check who he looks like. in one of these dreams he ended up as a damn clown he is taking no chances]

I think you'll find that I am not.

[beathollow]

( sonata is surprised for a moment- but only a moment. but she's always good at being what's expected of her, even if she doesn't quite remember- so the detective smiles, assured. )

Is that what you think?

[literal_trainwreck]

[obviously he's talking to me]

I'd take a look outside before you start bragging!

hi. i can never say no to dream shenanigans

[finalbows]

<sub>[ You're dreaming of a world without a sky.

Rather than a sun, a blue crystal hangs freely up above -- its washed-out light bathes everything, seeming to ebb and strengthen almost like the rhythm of waves. Though it's beautiful, there's something wrong-- when it glows strongest, you feel it, like a prickle. It's sort of... disorienting. Maybe even painful. A headache you can't quite shake.

It's fine, though. Maybe you can get some water and sit down and take a break...? It's not like you're anywhere dangerous. You're in a village! The layout is just like Woolietown, but the architecture is completely wrong-- organic, almost, like someone built it modeled off of diagrams from their grade school science textbook. Despite the design philosophy, it feels... really lifeless here. There's no grass or moss. No sorts of little insistent scratches at the door, left by nature's whims-- no, signs, of life, except.

There are Pasture-typical sheep everywhere around you milling through the village, all with golden fleece and cute little scarves around their neck with some basic pattern of white and warm-toned shapes. You have a shepherd's crook in your hand, but...

...the bell is missing its clapper. Shake it all you like, it won't ring. ]</sub>

Re: hi. i can never say no to dream shenanigans

[plied_magic]

[Well, this is probably not something her mind would make up... it's just too beyond what she's experienced]

Hello?

[more nightmares][body horror, just underworld things]

[hardpity]

[ in this dream you are somewhere cold and dark and featureless in an infinite expanse in all directions.

you hear crying from all around, the mournful wailing of the dead, and if you stand still for too long you feel hands clinging to your ankles, your legs, your arms, your hands, your face and neck - ]

Re: [more nightmares][body horror, just underworld things]

[chasseurdebeaute]

[nightmares but they're the very fascinating psyches of your dear schoolmates. he. takes one of the hands?]

oshi no ko spoilers are not impossible

[aididitmyway]

[You're backstage at some kind of music hall, the hustle and bustle of glittery costumes, makeup and hair artists, and a million other things filling the area with loud, loud noise.

Your manager is waiting for you, as patiently as can be, but he keeps checking his watch impatiently. It's late. You have other things you need to be doing.]

[endsjustified]

[this is weirdly a bigger mental dissonance than a lot of other more fraught shared dreams he has had so far. modern life in a modern setting as bright and complex as this one? don't know 'er.

after the moment of blank surprise, he takes stock: what else is it that he needs to be doing? what is he doing now?]

[beathollow]

( you are wandering in the woods. the leaves of the trees are dark, almost black, but there are red and purple flowers in the grass, and fruits in the trees. the sky, contrasting the dark forest, holds a warm, golden glow.

why are you here?

> You are a huntsman.
> You live here.
> ??? )

[finalbows]

<sub>[ > You live here.

Somewhere in this forest, there's a cache from ancient times, emblazoned with the seal of your homeland. It is as good a staging ground for what you do as any.

The boundless sky is so beautiful again today. Your voice is soft as you murmur to yourself, ]</sub>

I wonder if the stars will be out tonight.

[electricflock]

[Muffin is up on the barn roof again. he's quiet this time, but he's not that hard to spot— his eyes gleam like an animal in the headlights whenever the lighthouse's beam sweeps overhead.

his own dreams were short, the kind of nightmare that wakes you as soon as you start to fall asleep. nightmares where he (or you, perhaps) met a loved one, but instead of recognizing them with familiarity, he was gripped by such terrified revulsion that he had to flee from them, from that being that could not, should not exist. in the last dream, before he gave up on sleeping and went outside, he lashed out at the beloved abomination instead of running.

now he's on the roof waiting until it's light enough to go back to bed.]

[shortforever]

[Someone is sitting on top of the light house.

Hello fellow rooftop nerd.]

[endsjustified]

[you find yourself in the middle of a long dark manor hallway, holding a single lit candle in your hand. you are here as yourself, but there's something strange about the proportions and the point of view: unless you are already very small, everything seems taller than it should. larger. slowly you may realize that you are dreaming from the point of view of a child.

one side of the hallway must be lined with windows, but heavy red curtains are drawn over the ones you can see. only the barest suggestion of dim greyish light spills from behind them.

on the other...from the tiny circle of proper light around you, you can see a table next to you, holding a vase of white flowers, a writing-pad, an ink-pot, and a quill. there's also the suggestion of a huge picture-frame beyond it, though you'd have to move down the hall to get a better look at that.

you don't feel safe. you don't feel like you should be out here, outside your room. in the way of dreams, you know that a dreadful monster wanders the halls of your home at night.]

((this one will almost invariably lead to gore, zombies, dead loved ones, and potentially dream violence or death enacted on the dreamer. caveat emptor.))

[catposting]

((no violence i'm squeami-- jk go wild gimme all u got))

[ this is him right now. he's tiny, plainly-clothed and a fucking Regular. weak, lacking his usual grace. he knows perfectly well that this is just a dream, but that doesn't stop the lingering fear from permeating his body, slowing his steps. how pathetic.

inhaling, he forces the fear down, heading toward the picture-frame. ]

tw: gore, gross things

[villainrole]

You're in an empty hallway with a single door and a single light switch.

(ooc: yes this is the same toplevel as the last dream post, but I failed to tag out in that one so I'm reposting and trying again, plz forgiv, ok ok ok.)

[stirtheblood]

[If you haven't quite made it to sleep yet, or if you wake from a nightmare abruptly, and are looking out past the fence to the wider expanse of meadow, you might see an ominous human silhouette against the double moons.

If you manage to catch it when the beam from the lighthouse sweeps that way, though, it's a little bit less unnerving, and you can Vicious gathering together some things to make camp by a collection of rocks on a gentle hill. He has learned exactly enough of a lesson to not go into the forest again, but not enough to seek actual shelter.]

[eonsadrift]

[ It's Clover camp-out night so he's not sleeping anyway to keep watch, and an ominous silhouette is definitely worth investigating. He keeps his distance initially, but he's now obviously watching Vicious set up his camp. ]

...oh? What do we have here?

feeding time :9

[terraria]

( when you fall into your slumber, you are awoken by a cool island breeze.

you have wings. perhaps you have some other sort of appendage, some kind of tail or ears or the like - but you feel like you've always had wings. after all, all the people around you do too? people short and tall, fat and thin, young and old - all with a pair of wings. they have curved fangs that show when they smile and laugh.

it's noon. the sun hangs high in the sky and basks warmth all over the island, warming small lagoons and ponds where winged children splash around and elders dip their feet into, chatting and arguing. the stalls that are set up in the middle of town are small, but they carry juicy fruits, washed vegetables, and multicolored seeds aplenty.

some cooks fry up grasshoppers with lotus roots. it's a crispy, crunchy, spicy-salty-sweet treat that makes you happy despite your initial reaction to it.

this island is alive. even with the clear scorch marks on stone and the salted earth in places, torn up monuments with corrupted magic staining the sand, this island is alive and its people thrive.

and nowhere is that more obvious than when five bells ring and the entire island seems to whip their heads around to stare towards the shore. )

Fiiiiiish!

( a tiny little child throws their hands into the air and dashes towards the shore. their bigger sister scoops them up into their arms as she runs forwards, and she's accompanied by more... and more... and more people.

the mad dash for the salted-spiced fish begins.

can you get a whole fish? (a young tawny-winged boy yells in triumph as he holds up a large snapper the size of his arm.)

can you get a skewer? (a trio of children share a large stick with various grilled fish chunks on it.)

can you get, like, maybe a handful of sardines? (a woman scowls at the five thumb-sized fish on a linen string she managed to grab, and her wife pats her arm telling her 'next time, next time'.)

may luck be ever in your favor as the horde descends upon the five fishing boats. hey, if you don't get anything here... there's always fruit. and vegetables. and seeds.

and grasshoppers. )