🌑︎ 🌑︎

[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

[endsjustified]

[he'll weigh his options a moment -- to look at the closed way that failed, in case someone is still clawing at it, or to go look at the option that doesn't have that association?

he supposes he'll head toward the light. at least failure implies presence.]

[debug_mode]

[ It's not easy to walk directly at light, but it's not blinding. Mostly because it doesn't have a recognizable source. Sunlight would come from the sun, which is a tangible object. This light is just sort of... there. Like it's a physical thing. ]

[ It's when he reaches a certain point, the light cuts off. He finds the light emanating from a traceable shape. It's not quite an circle. Not quite an oval. Not quite a square. It's as incomprehensible as a squared-circle. ]

[ There's something behind this shape where the light is coming from. But there's no way to walk around it. There's no way to climb over it. There's no way to tunnel underneath it. The only hope would be to break right through it. ]

[endsjustified]

[he'll try to set his hand on it, to get more of an idea of its nature than simply 'immovable object.']

[debug_mode]

[ It has a consistency that feels like glass and soft plastic. It absolutely should give when he presses on it. Yet, it does not. Worst still, it's not affixed to any of the corners or sides where the light meets the void. There's a dull sound with any knock he makes. ]

[ This absolutely shouldn't be an immutable barrier. ]

[ Yet it is. ]

[ Worst still, there does seem to be flickers of shadows moving along the light on the opposite side. There's something behind it, and not just more void. ]

[endsjustified]

[well, with the sense of failure hanging in this area, he doesn't believe it will do much of anything to pursue the shadows. but unlike the unknown dreamer, he is new to this, so he may as well learn what he can.

he'll call through the barrier:]

Who is there?

[debug_mode]

[ The shadows continue to shift, but it's impossible to know if it's because of what he did or just it continuing to happen randomly. At any rate, there's no reply. No voice. No sound. Nothing. ]

[ Don't bother. ]

[ No one will hear you. ]

[endsjustified]

[was that simply dream knowledge, or did that imply a presence telling him so?]

[debug_mode]

[ It's as if the hopelessness itself is telling him. That he's gaining the experience someone else learned. ]

[ There... is a little bit more of the feeling to be gained here. Yet more hope to be crushed. ]

[ As if to inspire him, the light sudden rushes with static, and the shadow has a clear outline. The shape of a person, looking in. ]

[endsjustified]

[...

he does try knocking again.]

Hello.

[if it wants him to experience its hopelessness, then he will; he can't forge a solution wholly blind, after all.]

[debug_mode]

[ This time messages appear on the screen. They're clearly defined. Pink background, black lettering. ]

[ They will never hear you. ]

[ You can't break the glass, either. ]

[ Not even with a hard object. Whether you swing until you're out of strength, or slowly work steady at the same spot every day, it will never even chip. ]

[ Unlike the static, these messages linger and are very readable. . . ]

[ At least until, like tear drops, the letters begin to blur. ]






Ö̸̠͇͎͇̟̦̤̦̻̮̲̭̜̭́͛̈́͂̚͝×̵̢̨̡̰͉̣̪͉̥̞͉̻̙̣̤͎͍̭͛̿̓̀͒̊̉͊̑̔Ǿ̴̧̡̛͔̤̗͓̠̫̰̼̳̻̫̳̰̘̥̠̀̒͑͑̄̃̂̃̽͑̈́̅̄͊͛̂͊͛͂̆̿̔́͜͠Ù̵̡̡̧̡̗̮̼̗̲̱̦̠̖̙̫͎͎̜̠̻̘̦̞̳̠̻͔̥̜̲͇̯͔̻̰̥͓̜̤͚̠̎̎̈́̑̕ͅỨ̵͈͉̲̹̩̺̝̞̫͍̪̝͚͚͔͓͚̓̏̉̒̄̓̿̈́̒̓̚̚͘͝Ý̴̯̪̠͍̬̩̥̹̺̖͎̼̱̠̬͉͆͜Þ̴̧̨̧̼͙̥͉̯̗̺͇̬͓̩͓̘̺̼̻͕͙͕̘͈̭̘̻̹̺̼͕̹̻̺͔̞̂̄̄̇͗͌͋́̇́͐͆͒̈́̇̈́͆̅̍̇̍̓̐̏̆̉̀̂̇̉͛̊̚͜͝͝ß̵̧̧̛̛͖̬̜̭̯̼͕̟͖̲̣̬̠̩͈̙̰̲̳̹̮̩̩̖̗͕̫̰͉̰͎̥̮̃͗̓̅̾̃̋͗̆̔͌̈́̇̉̐̍̀̾̈́͆͑͐͊̀̀̃̉̑̅̑̔̌̀̀̿̈́̚͠͠à̷̡̢̡̯̤̫̥̤̘̘͚͎̯͎̘̞̖̩̜͈̹̞̮̣̫̟̮̯̗̫̫̝̝̞͛͐͗͆̄̎̃͆̓̌̎̉̆̍̀͐̌́́͘͜͝á̷̡̛̦͈̥̰̗̟̩̭̟̰̘͖͚̲̦̘̮̝̙͔̬͕͕̞̉̀͂̄̈́̑͋̓́̔̉̍̐̀͑̀̏͒̈̔͗̒͌̒̀͐̈́͐̀̈́̋̏̋͘̕̚͜͠͝ͅĘ̶̨̨̢̢̡̛̖͎͔̯͙̲̖̗͔̤̻̪̝͓̱͎̩̺͉̦̞͔̜̮̞̞̥̤̰̠̖͍̄̑̍͑̅̌̑͂͆͆̈́̀̏̌̈̓̄̇̆̀̄͌͐̌͗͛̆̒̈́͗͘̕͘͘͠͠͝͝͝͠ͅē̵͈͎̮̗͎̤̹͙̦͚̩͙̪̣̹͚͔͇̼̩̦͎̋͗̓́͗̆͛̀̕͝Ĕ̶̡̛͉̻̳̮̤̭̘̟͔̖̟̖̮̰͐͛͌̓̌́̿̎͛̐͋͛̍̓̎̐̈́̉̓̿͊͌͊̄̏̂͌̀̈́̃͘͘̕̕̕͝͝͝ę̴̡̩͈͖̹̤̖͈̫̫͖̭̩̣͉̝̣͉̳̻̫̗͇͙̝͚͚͖̖̳̘͇̙̆̔̏͒̎̒̓̒̏̓͐̆̚Ę̸̨̡̡̡̖̺̟̣̹̩͍͖͇̳̖̺̟͉̹̱̪̞͈̦͎͈̳͎̮̤͕͇̠͎̪̇͗̃͐̽͊̈́̊̑̀́̇̽̇͋̔̓́͋̄̈́͋̊́̓̂̀̌͘ͅͅͅė̵̢̡̧̠̱̯͎̼͖̦͎͇̦̗̰̣̭̩̣̱̟̱͔͚̫͚̙̖̱͍̭̟͈͔̜͊͆͒̍̋́̈́͘͜͜͜͠͠ͅĘ̸̧̛̮̞̜͙̥̖̙̜̝̼̲̲͖͙̣̳̮͎̘͉͙̺̬̼̥̝̱̞̖͉̇͌̾́́̍̎̀̎̌̔͑̌͑̔͒̉̆̄͐́̎̀̒̎̌̚̕͝͝Û̷̢̥͓̞͓͎͕͍͍͇̰͉̊́̏͂̐̃͗̏̈̀͛̓̎̔̋̎̎́̅͒̔͒̆̏̏̍́̓̀̈̈́̇͋̕͘͘̕Ų̶̧̧̢̖͍̘̥̪͍͙͈̩̻̫̙͕̈̅͜͜ę̵̬̦͖̫̝̳̙̪̥̮͉͈̖͛̔Ě̷̢̧̺̫͔̻̗̜̯̀͒̅̎̀̉̍͑̊̀̅͗͑̐͊͌͐̍̄̓͋̈́̚͘̕͘̕͠ě̴̢̡̡̧̘͓͉͎͕͇̹̩͙̠̙̳̗͉̲̝̤̰͖̰̹͖̯̈̈́͑̆̀̈́͛͂̈͂Ĝ̷̹̺̜̰̾̓͛̏̎̑͊̈́͆̍̓͛͋͘͘͝͠ĝ̷̡̧͎̻̪̺̭͚͓̮̖̩̪̠̠͕̋̋́̉̕Ğ̸̼͙͍͖̺́́̀̔̇͌̉͆̉̌̀̉͊͑̓̂̅̒͂̂̀̽̉́̅̓͑̌̆͌́̊̚̚̕͝͝ğ̷͍̻̺̻͐̆̒̈́̀͌͗̉́̀̀̾̒́̔̽͋̏͊͛̏̋̊̋͌̌̈́̍͐̃̇̐̈͂̍̐͒̏̆͝Ģ̷̝̞̼̩̰̪̻͈̻̩̹̺͚̲͍̇͑̓͜͜ģ̸̡̨̢̝̻̦̰̞̝̙͉̣̳̹͉̩̱̙͕̯̇̃

[endsjustified]

[presses his hand over them, with a thoughtful noise, not particularly upset: ah, there you are.]

You are working on a bit of a false premise, unknown one.

[debug_mode]

?̶̞̯̻̋̔̍̈̐̓͒͒̅̀̆̂̈̚͘͠͝?̴͇̭͉͎̦͇͍͉̪̰͚̠̋̓̑̇͒̈̔͋̅̋̈́͊̎̚̕͜͝ͅ?̶̣̺̻̦̥̬͙̤̈́̇̈́͒͛̽̓̿̄̔̆͜?̷̪͓͂͂̈́͒͆̅̽̎̓͊͂̔̈̇͝?̸̝̝̼̰̠͙͙̟̗̹̿̈̒̇̽̌̓͋̒̅̍̚͝͠ͅ?̶̛̪͖̗̗̳͉̳̦͚̓́̀͐̄͌͆̈͐͆̀?̷̨̬̭̬̹͇͎̺͉͔̽͌̽̓?̷͉̥̩̭̝̟̮̪̺̫̞̪̰̳̲̼̑̍̈́̾̀̿̊̽̌̕͝?̷̪͕̝̼͈͙̺͇̖̟̱̞̈́̓͆̋̅̓̆͒̿́̋̈́̎̓͘͜͠ͅ?̷̭͚̹̝̙̬̊̀͐̊̃̋̔?̵̢̢̠̳̗̜̤͔̳̬͙͓̲̣́̈̉́͗̎̋̓͆́͘ͅ?̶̡̥̈́̀̌?̶̂̈́̋̒̍̕͝ͅ?̶̡̛͈̠͛͗̾́͂?̷̡͍̼̺̼̰̰̭̪̾͌̈́̈́́̏͆?̴̰̜̫̺͇͎̩̤͍͕̳̳̭̳̃̒ͅ?̴̨̛̣͍̱̱͙̬̱͇̆̎̂͌͂͊̅͒̋͑͊̿̚͠͝ͅ?̸̢̠͕͓̼̹̗̹̹͚̹̭̈̅̆̑̿̄̀͐͒̚͜͝͝͝͝?̶̨̝̗̣̰̖̗̳̰̲̠̯̪̱͇͕̼͑̏̔́̇͌͂͊͑́̾̾͘͘x̶̳̂̂͊͑̑̇͒̏̈͒̔̉͌o̷̡̼͓̥͚̠͓̗͓͓͙̱̚ẍ̸͚̻̒̈́̏̀͌͆̓̉̋͆͋͝͠͝ͅ?̸̢͉̻̭͈̗̥̲̳̣̼̯̼͈̣̈́̆̀̈́͝?̵̖͇͐͐̒͛̍͂̋͗̊̋̏̀̃͂̏͘?̸̗̤̹̼̮̠̙͌̓̐̾̂̂̔͘̚͜͝?̷̡̼̫̟̱̖̟͔̟̣̀̓͛͆̍͑͂̂̇́̉̕̕͜͜ͅ?̷̹̞̮̗͚̝͕̂̑͑̍̂͊̅̊̎?̵̫͕͖̂̀̅̀̇͒͝?̸̢̫͈̭̮̲̓͂?̵͍̠͙̟͑̄̾́̀͘?̶̧̫̤̦̣̼́͊̋̈́̓̏̽͆̿̀̊̂̓͒͘̚͠?̶̢̤̬̦͚̬͙̪̫̼̫͖̆͐?̷̧̧̨̛̹͔̣̹̲̘̖̭͇̼͕̾̊̒̍̇̄́̀̅͐̒̆̕̕͠?̶̨̻̫͖̞̤͍͎̩̱̱̘̍̄̽̈́̎͑̎̈̆̒̾͌ͅ?̷̭͆̀̉̉̔̊̇̃̎?̴̛̦͎͙̽̃̈́͐́̆̈́͛͋̒͆̓̐͘?̷̧̖̤̪̣̝̖̟̞̤̑̅?̸̢͎͉̘̺͉̰̫̩͉̼̓͂͜͜?̵͓͈͚̞̀͐́͊͐̂̔͒̾͛͒̀͒͘̕͘͠?̶̧̺̯͙͇̠̩̺̝̩̱͓͓͓͇̒ś̸̢̢̧̢͎͍̟̪̘͎͔̟̭̙̗͒̽͑̇̒̏͜͠ẍ̸̢͓̹̯̠̘̼͚͓̩̲͎́͘ͅb̷͓͍̫̙̜̼͖̘͊̓̀͆̓̔̆͑̎͗̚̚͘͜p̵̗̩̭̙̦͌̎̉͐͂̋̔̃͝?̵̛̼̰̣̪͓̎͗͌͋̎̈́͒͛̚͘͝?̷̨̛͙͎̺̟̣̫̫̘͍̗̯̬͕͆̈́̈̾̐́̓̕̚͜͠ͅͅ?̴̡̧̛̝͇̘͈͎͎͍̼͈̳͛̃̌̚ͅͅ?̶̧̟̘͓͚̍͐͜͝͝?̸̢̡̬͓̫͓̄͆̐?̶̧̞̪̭͍̰̮̥͕̬̗̹͍͓͎̀̇͒́̔̽̃́́͛̊̚͝͠?̸͎̹̹̮̰͈̫̙̘͂̓̈́̓͊̽́̕̚͘̚͝?̷̛͚̣̖̤̖͈̤̺̳̘̰̪̹̯͎̙̤̍̓̒͐̓͠?̴̦̬̔͊͑?̷̧̹͈̮̥̑̃͊̀̔?̶̢̛͇̥̊̈́̅́͛́?̸̛͖͕̙̝͕̘̖͔̽̈́̉́̈́͌̈́̇̀̚͘͠ͅ


[ The text is still scrambled, but he's got a measurable reaction. ]

[endsjustified]

[the interesting thing about being a shepherd who takes full advantage of his powers: he knows when he is in a dream, because he is always awake. it informs the answers he gives, in these strange surreal scenarios.]

Someone is listening now, for both of us. You are here. I am here.

Did you account for me? I must have had a way in.

[debug_mode]

[ The response is fast enough it's coming back before he finishes talking. ]

[ Keep going. ]

[ The light blinks, then goes dark, returning the space to a void. The message boxes vanishing with it. ]

[ But there is something to orient himself with. The sound of that broken music box has become a little louder... a little easier to locate. ]

[endsjustified]

[bows politely to the space where the words were, the way he'd bow to a gentleman or lady at a party before departing]

By your leave, then.

[now he will follow the discordant sound, to try and find its source.]

[cw: suicide imagery coming up, hanging, stabbing]

[debug_mode]

[bgm: here]

[ It actually improves in terms of finding a tune as he gets there...

...but he surely wishes he wasn't there. ]

[ At some point the void stops being obscured and starts looking like a massacre.

First: There's a girl with her head through a noose around her neck, swinging gently.

Second: There's a girl who looks like she got half-way through eviscerating herself before pain and shock set in and she died of blood loss. A knife sticks from her abdomen.

Third: There's a girl who ... x̸̡̗̜̺̮͙͍̭̘͔̗̥̰͇̦̠͊̆̀̒̋͑̓͒͛̒͗̋̑͘͜͠ơ̸̩̎͌̓̅̃́͜͠͝x̷̥͑̉́͆̾̈́̐̉̅̂̀͝͝o̸̮͉̅̆̔̓̄̈́̀͋͝x̷̱̻̤͉̦͇̎͒́̒̽̊͌̄̑̂͂̕͠o̵̼͊͌͌̌͗͗̓̉̿͊̏͆x̵̢̣̗̪̦̩̥̜͉̝̪̟̟̘̿̀̿̌́̅͒̏͝ͅo̷̧̢͇͎̫̮̲͔͍̱̪̰̮̒͝͝ͅx̷̬̗̝̂̎̐ ]

[ ... ]

[ It doesn't look like someone else did this. It looks like they were driven to do it to themselves. ]

Re: [cw: suicide imagery coming up, hanging, stabbing]

[endsjustified]

[this is a very pointed nightmare, isn't it? he's not terribly reactive to it, except perhaps to frown a little more deeply.

he'll roll his shoulders a little and try to remove the hanging girl from her noose when she comes into his path, if he can, since she's the first to show up.]

[debug_mode]

[ It's an act of kindness and respect. . . ]

[ . . . one that it is impossible to complete. ]

[ The noose stretches up into the void. It's impossible to tell where it's affixed. The rope similarly won't give even a bit of slack. ]

[ Moreover... ]

[ There's a blink of flashing light, as if from the 'glass' he encountered earlier, and suddenly none of the girls are 'girls' anymore. Or rather, they have no features. It's not as if some third party removed their outer bodies either, it's as if they were always like this. A weird hallucination. ]

[ Desperation hangs in the atmosphere. ]

[ This was an act of desperation to escape. ]

[endsjustified]

[ah. well.

he surveys the new scene, not quite letting the corpse go to dangle again just yet, but...recalibrating.]

To escape this place? Or something else within?

[he doesn't really expect an answer, but someone spoke to him. someone is guiding his experience right now. he's trying to communicate.]

[debug_mode]

[ All three girls vanish until suddenly... ]

[ There's this girl. As if she was standing there all along. ]

Ah, welcome to the Literature Club!

[endsjustified]

[...offers her a shallow bow of greeting much as he did the strange shape in the void, arm tucked behind his back, military-perfect]

My pardon for intruding, miss.

[debug_mode]

We're kind of low on members so I'm hoping you'll join.

...Just kidding!

We don't need to pretend anymore.

We can just talk face-to-face now. There's no more distractions.

[endsjustified]

I do favor a direct discussion over pretense.

Your feelings linger. How long have you been here?

[debug_mode]

It's so weird though. It's not like you can talk back. I don't even know what you look like...

[ There's a flash of light, soft static, and... it occurs to him that the unbreakable glass now exists between him and the girl. Only he's the one out the outside. ]

But, that's okay. I know you'd like nothing more than to stare into my eyes.

[endsjustified]

[...

can he put a ghost sheep through the glass. makes the attempt]