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[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.]

[ohlord]

[quiet as the dead!

or, well. there might be a sound. but that could just be the wind. or the kids yelling.

it'd be weird if it was coming from a grave.]

[endsjustified]

[WHAT'S THE NOISE IF HE TAKES A KNEE BY THE GRAVE TO LISTEN MORE CLOSELY, JUDAS PRIEST]

[ohlord]

[AN EXCELLENT JAM--no i mean, it's actually the sound of metal scraping against stone]

[endsjustified]

[it's a dream; the small knife he takes from an inside pocket is not bone, but bright silver, and very old.

raps on the stone with the heavy hilt.]

[ohlord]

[it's a pretty thick slab of stone, chosen well.

the scraping stops.

everything's quiet for a long moment.





and then there's a muffled mimicking of the rapping pattern you just did.]

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.]

[ohlord]

[it sure is good camouflage. not that there's really anything to hide from currently (although a giant sandworm might be out in the dunes way out there, but y'know. this is why you don't live in the dunes).

being low to the ground, though, may mean the birdie does hear a sound that could be mistaken for wind or maybe something the kids are doing inside the church.]

[electricflock]

[pauses and cocks his head to one side then the other. peep? sound? peep?]

[ohlord]

[sound! no peeps, but instead a sound not dissimilar to metal scraping against stone. muffled but getting more distinct nearer to the grave.]

[electricflock]

[looks around, double-checking his surroundings, then scampers over to the grave

:v

peck]

[ohlord]

[quiet.

then a scraping tap.]

[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. ]

[ohlord]

[a mystery.

what a peaceful day at the orphanage and Wolfwood's grave. maybe you just stopped by for a visit and decided to hang out with your old friend.

certainly nothing strange or amiss here. that faint, out of place sound could be anything, really.]

[featherduster]

[ Of course it's not fucking nothing, it is ALWAYS new horrors.

Following the sound . . . ]

[ohlord]

[your feet bring you straight to the grave.

right at the tombstone you carved.

that sound, the slow dragging scrrrraaaaaape of metal against stone... sounds so muffled from here.]

1/2

[featherduster]

[ oh ok it's new horrors after all ]

[featherduster]

[ WATCH HOW FAST ONE LUNATIC CAN DESECRATE A TOMB

Scrabbling at the sandy earth to find purchase on the edge of the stone and try to heave it up ]

[ohlord]

[it might take a little bit due to a certain someone being very good at the whole grave digging and tomb building thing, but the stone start to move, revealing the grave with... very loose dirt. like something's been moving in it.

the pale, bloody hand clutching onto a metal buckle from a belt wrapped around it is visible, but apparently stopped moving at some point during the frantic digging]

[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]

[ohlord]

[it's a hot but peaceful day. it's pretty clear the grave's been there for a while, also]

[mykidisthebest]

[brushes the dust off the grave; it'll just get dusty again, obviously, but that's no reason not to clean it up now]

[ohlord]

[how nice of you to pay your respects!

maybe your actions is what's causing that faint noise, then. or it could be the wind or the children in the church]

[mykidisthebest]

...?

[it's probably not the kids. he doubts it's him, though; stills his hand and listens.]