Event - Lullaby

[apocalypsehowmods]

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Lullaby

➥ For You Never Shut Your Eye

(cw: supernaturally-induced sleep/fatigue, supernaturally-induced sleep disorders/somniloquy, needles/injections)

The line between waking and sleep is beginning to blur. People will find themselves sleeping far too much, but it never feels like enough. The music is growing more prevalent and persistent throughout town. The effect is still weaker within the building, but as October wears on, more and more people are affected and ADI staff are more intent than ever to find the source and also figure out how to block the effects. Characters will find themselves conscripted (between Halloween Party preparations) into assisting with building or testing anti-music and sleep devices along or with helping to try to track down the source of the music.

For those helping to build and test devices, there is an R&D lab in the basement levels of ADI that will be available. Devices native staff have been able to devise include:

• Headphones that play different frequencies to try to cancel out the sound of the singing.
  
• An armband that periodically stabs a small needle into the arm with a small dosage of adrenaline.
  
• Headbands set to a constant low vibration.

The efficacy of all of these devices is… questionable, but perhaps others may have their own expertise to lend to the efforts, attempting something on a broader scale than just personal protection devices.

For those helping to track the source of the music, finding it seems to be impossible, but there is a definite pattern that characters will note as the days pass. The epicenters of the music are moving, migrating out of the graveyards and converging on ADI Headquarters. As this goes on, the building will become less and less of a safe haven, the music penetrating its walls and affecting the staff there more heavily. You might find yourself having to help a neighbor who's fallen asleep while working. Or you might not even be able to fully tell they've fallen asleep as they sleepwalk and talk almost like they're actually still conscious. Even those who have never been prone to sleepwalking and talking may find themselves affected and… far more open with what they say when in the unguarded state of semi-unconsciousness.

➥ Till the Sun Is In the Sky

(cw: supernaturally-induced sleep/fatigue, thanatophobia, character death, death by poisoning, blood, choking, emetophobia, death by crushing)

By the 25th, some people may find waking up to be a challenge in and of itself. But they do manage to wake up. Seemingly. Perhaps the day is much like any other, heading to ADI or out around the city, grabbing coffee and- something is wrong. Something is very wrong. That cup of coffee you just drank had tasted a little different than usual. A touch of almond to it? It hits you that your throat is burning, bile and blood rising up and choking you as you hack and gasp and vomit. Your legs grow weak, you're losing control of everything, falling, dying.

And then you wake up.

Just a nightmare. Just a bizarre and horrible nightmare. You head out and… is this home? You're home! Or maybe… wait, this doesn't seem right. Have you gone somewhere else? Some things might be familiar, memories intertwined and mixing with fantastical elements, some your own, some not. You notice people you recognize, ones who might be as confused as you are. This isn't where they should be and they remember dying, too. Or seeing you die or someone else. It doesn't make sense, but somehow, they remember they had a dream they shared last night. And then something falls from above and nearly crushes you or your partner. Or maybe it does crush them, and you're suddenly looking at a dead body as the world and this nightmare that feels so very real becomes more and more hostile. Maybe something falls on you.

And then you 'wake up.'

➥ When the Blazing Sun Is Gone

(cw: supernaturally-induced sleep/fatigue, thanatophobia, character death, body horror, detailed description of painful physical transformation, description of the loss and regrowth of teeth, violence, mental status alterations, temporary power-loss, spiders)

Even with people dropping left and right thanks to the odd sleep effect taking hold, ADI staff are hellbent that their Halloween party will not be completely ruined. And on the 28th (a little before the actual holiday), everyone wakes up. Or… seems to. For those trapped in dreams, it will seem very much that they've woken up, the music has stopped, and they can actually carry on. For a few days, it even seems like things are normal. The party on the 31st is a blow-out bash. The entire first floor of ADI HQ has been transformed with decorations. The canteen is serving festive food and has set up a dance floor with holiday-appropriate music playing. Some of the offices feature additional activities, including party games like bobbing for apples in a trough that's been brought in, a guess this gross food booth, and more general party games. For a quieter time, there are also areas set up with board games and card games to play. And for some extra fun spooks a mini-haunted maze has been set up with faux spiders and webs, along with other goofy-looking monster creatures.

It's around 9 PM when the music and lights suddenly cut out. There's nothing for several seconds. Then, a voice begins to sing, filling the halls of ADI. It's a young girl's voice.

"Bye-bye, bye-bye,
Quickly you will die,
On the morning will be frost,
And you’ll go to the graveyard, the graveyard.

Grandfather will come there, too,
And he will bring the coffin.
Grandmother will come along,
Her tears, they will not soften.
Mama sings the prayer song, then,
And falls down on her knees.
Daddy takes you to the grave,
No one can hear his pleas.

Bye-bye, bye-bye,
Quickly you will die,
On the morning will be frost,
And you’ll go to the graveyard, the graveyard.

As the last notes of the song fade away, all hell breaks loose. Those who had been wearing particular sorts of costumes, ones that are more monstrous in nature, may find themselves transforming, growing, twisting, shifting. It's not a clean change, but a violent, agonizing one that cracks bones, tears and reshapes muscles and tendons, pushes out teeth to make room for new ones. Those transformed will find themselves compelled to chase, to hunt, to kill anyone they can get their claws, teeth, or other appendages on.

For those who stay themselves, it's not just their transformed friends who pose a danger, but the decorations they've set up, as well. Those fake giant spiders and webs? They're no longer fake. Neither are any of the other demonic little creatures. The goal of everything in ADI and even outside for those who manage to make it out the doors, is to remind you how very, very mortal you are. Those typically possessed of fantastic abilities will find that they have been sapped away. There's no calling on magic or innate abilities. You are mortal and you are going to die like everything mortal does.

In the chaos, characters will catch glimpses of a young girl flitting amongst the chaos, seeming unperturbed by it all. Trying to catch up to her or speak to her is fruitless, but she's there, and she's humming that song from before.

➥ When He Nothing Shines Upon

(cw: supernaturally-induced fatigue/malaise, thanatophobia)

Those who are killed at the party will find themselves waking up wherever they actually fell asleep a few hours or even days ago. If your character was one of the lucky few who somehow managed to escape the effect, you'll notice people waking up all over ADI HQ and elsewhere. There are no signs of damage on the bodies, but those who died in the dreams will find themselves feeling incredibly weak and generally ill for several hours to several days after the experience.

The music has actually stopped, and this time, it would seem you've actually woken up. Depending on how long you were passed out for, that may be a more unpleasant experience for some than others. There's a message posted from a random ADI employee's phone a few days later to the network:

Mr. S was right. This was fun! I'll have to come back next year to play with you. - Ava, the Lullaby Girl

P.S. Sorry for stealing your phone, horsegirl67. But I wanted to say, hi. C:

Unfortunately, there are no further messages and attempts to respond to the message will receive no reply for now.

But... fortunately…? All of the Halloween preparations are still up, and there's a festive party to attend if anyone actually feels keen on trying it in real life. Pam Ruan, the main organizer is bloody-minded about it now and will have her God damn Halloween party, but those who work themselves up to attend out of festive spirit or morbid curiosity will find it a distinctly muted affair that breaks early in the evening.

Happy Halloween, Gloucester!

➥ Mod Notes

• GENERAL - Players are welcome to play NPCs for themselves when they are needed in a thread. If you need more information on general behavior for these types of NPCs, please feel free to ask! In general, the information provided in the prompt should be sufficient and you're welcome to make up any details beyond that for your specific scene. The Lullaby Girl (Ava) can be seen throughout character dreams, but they will not be able to interact with her during this event. They will either wake up or simply find that the physics of the dream are warped and she cannot be reached or there's a sheet of glass between her and the character or whatnot.
  
  
• FOR YOU NEVER SHUT YOUR EYE (15-24 October) - Characters are welcome to develop their own devices for attempting to stop the music. Characters will have modern day technology available to them along with a few slightly more advanced electronics and tools. Please do not go too out there. This isn't Tony Stark's array of tools and the like. But characters can create additional devices to test within reason. Some of them may be more or less effective, but with how sporadic the effect is, it might be difficult to tell what's actually working or not. There can also be negative side-effects from devices, if you'd like to play those out. Characters with the appropriate magical charge may also attempt to supernaturally block the music, but this will not be condoned or facilitated by ADI. Characters searching for the source of the music will not be able to find it, just discover that it is moving. For characters who are sleep-talking, they may find themselves unusually honest. They may or may not recall conversations with other characters and all that they told them.
  
  
• TILL THE SUN IS IN THE SKY (25-27 October) - Characters will experience repeated nightmares of dying in a shared dreamscape. They will remember every time that they die in the dreams. Feel free to get as creative and gruesome with this as you would like. These are dreams and fantastical situations that might not actually happen (e.g., a robot showing up and shooting a laser through your character) may occur. Players are welcome to introduce elements of their memories into the nightmares and mix those memories around between characters who might wind up in a dream together. Please ensure all top-levels are appropriately tagged for any and all content warnings. Add content warnings as you go along, if needed. Dying in the dreams will trigger the sense of waking up. This can be a fake wake-up or characters might actually wake for a short while and find others passed out around them.
  
  
• WHEN THE BLAZING SUN IS GONE (28-31 October) - Again, this will be a shared dreamscape where characters will be under the illusion (at first) that all has returned to normal. For those who investigate, everything seems to be real, nothing too off, excepting the night of the Halloween party. Once the Lullaby Girl finishes her song, characters who are dressed in costumes that depict animals or other monstrous creatures may find themselves transformed into their costumes. Transformed characters may gain powers for the duration of this prompt/event related to their monstrous forms without mod approval. Go wild, kill your friends and neighbors, and generally trash everything around you. The decorations that come to life will be attempting to murder all characters, transformed or not. If characters escape into the city, they will find all of the festive decorations out there have come to life and want to kill them, as well. Death is unavoidable for this particular prompt, but it can be something swift and painless or something drawn out and horrible at player discretion. It is the only way to actually wake a character fully. Players also have the option of keeping their characters awake. They will not experience the shared dreamscape and will just be stuck with a lot of unconscious people around them for the duration of this portion of the event.
  
  
• WHEN HE NOTHING SHINES UPON (31 October) - Ava, the Lullaby Girl, cannot be contacted or immediately located, but she will be available in future plots for interactions with characters. There is no immediate information regarding who Mr. S. is. Players may have the general sleep/death malaise last for a minimum of two hours and a maximum of three days. Regular medications for the flu can ameliorate some of the symptoms, but they will ultimately clear up on their own. Characters may wake up in whatever state players would like. Feel free to play out the effects of them having been slumped in a corridor for three days without food or water. It's going to be a bad time all around. Those who attend the real Halloween party will be thanked profusely by Pam and showered with candy. At least they'll get a few HR brownie points?

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[sorser]

This is Titan.

[He says it off-handedly, refusing to give it more weight than necessary. It’s bad enough that they’re standing here, the sand of this dead place sticking to their clothing, ever present — bad enough that this planet is not delegated only to memory, but now given life in the form of a dream that he has to exist within.

Maybe that’s why he stubbornly refuses to expound upon this planet any further, simply gesturing for Tim to come closer.]

Let me see your wound. Nightmare or not, I’m not going to just leave you like that.

[Regardless of whether or not Tim complies, his next question is easy.]

An actual god? Why?

[conning]

"From the enemies of a turncoat thief?" He glances sideways at Malcolm, tilts his head a little, invites the man to make his own conclusions. They pass into the cafeteria, the wash of noise making Neal shiver.

III. WHEN HE NOTHING SHINES - C

[inlieuofadad]

Gil sees the laughter, the crying, people who clearly don't know each other clinging to each other in acts and poses that aren't decent for this weather, never mind the open. He stops before getting too close, deep suspicion and wariness keeping him from diving straight into the fray. It's not just all the bullshit from the last few weeks, or the fact that he still feels like he's recovering from the worst flu he's ever had. He assesses first in general. It's just become that much more important here.

The assessment is how he spots Jeff singing in the middle of it all, and two and two become four. Gil swears under his breath, skirting the edge of the chaos as he trying to get closer. "Jeff! Kid, what are you doing?"

One step too far. An electric giddiness washes through him, strongly enough that he almost forgets what he was doing in the first place. Gil gasps, trying to focus, raising his voice again. "Kid! Cut it the hell out!"

[inutilis]

[ it's a match made in heaven...... Ren with his refined and creative palate and Abel out here ready to eat anything because he is a DOG at heart, just give him anything tbh?? he will be so happy?? Ren??

...w-well. listen, he would love to sit and enjoy this coffee, but he hasn't forgotten what he came here for!! so, after another moment of staring longingly into his coffee cup that is still Too Cute To Drink, ]

--Ah! Please, go take a load off...! I'm taking my relaxing art-coffee with me to the stove for that tea I promised you, though, um... I'm afraid it might pale in comparison to this... Please don't judge me too harshly, would you, Ren?

[conning]

Neal is a softie. He pretends not to be, and sometimes he's even good at pretending not to be, but the gentle fondness for people always wins out in the end. He falls in next to Jeff, not bothering to fight the tiny smile the interaction brings to his face. He wondered, for a long time, what it would be like to have a little brother.

"Hey, if I didn't send me, I'd still get in trouble for not stopping you from pulling shit."

He matches Jeff's cadence a little, not too much, feeling out the part he's playing as he tries to shepherd the younger man back toward Bonnie's.

[conning]

His smile has gotten him places, some of them technically off-limits to the public. He knows when to employ it to his benefit.

Neal shakes his head in a dismissal of the apology, then has to pause as the world seems to swim around him. "Just adding a little nightclub class to the morning grind."

[cacophonish]

It's the raised dad voice that does it. Not the authority inherent in dad voice, but the fact that Jeff finally hears-- recognizes-- Gil over his own singing. He shuts his mouth, letting the song, the spell, die right then and there before it can weave itself into the older man.

He can't do it to somebody he knows. That part of him that knows this is all wrong twists nauseatingly at the thought. (Another part, a smaller part, is thrilled by the prospect, but he tamps it down.) It isn't enough to save anyone who's already been, you know, enchanted, but it'll stop the spread of hysterical ecstasy.

The ones who are already swept up in the spell will recover on their own, in time. Whether it's ten minutes, or an hour, they'll come down.

And Jeff, for his part, looks at Gil... and he books it, running away from the crowd, their madness, his guilt, and any disappointment or fear or disgust he's afraid he'll see in the older man.

[conning]

Neal drags in a breath when the music stops, feeling like he's filling lungs that that just expelled a gallon of water. He gets enough awareness back to see the thing kill that woman, cutting off her screaming as sharply as the music. He staggers again, the horror of it overwhelming. A whole life, a whole network of relationships and memories and plans, broken that carelessly. It stirs a little flare of rage, enough to jolt him to his senses a little, but he doesn't avoid the body. He catches her, draws her up in his own arms with his eyes still on the monster. His skin crawls at the close contact, but he keeps his eyes on that... thing, as he lays the dead woman down on the table with gentle respect.

Then he starts backing up again, not as quickly this time. Maybe if he runs slow enough, maybe if he keeps its interest, it will follow him out of here. Away from other people. Maybe.

He wants to let the chips fall where they fall, let the unlucky roll the dice, but a glance at the dead woman on the table and the way her head lolls like the monster's keeps him in place.

[inlieuofadad]

He shudders in relief as the building feeling drops away, distracted long enough for Jeff to get a little bit of a head start. Gil growls impatiently, dragging his sorry ass into a jog that keeps Jeff in sight without putting too much pressure on an already-overtaxed body.

Christ, he needs to get to the ADI's fitness center more often if this is going to keep up.

"Jeff, I swear to God, I will just go back to Bonnie's and wait for you there."

[chrisisofaith]

Ah, then he didn't remember. Probably for the best, all told, and up to Chris to say something...but he doesn't. It doesn't feel important right now and there's enough on everyone's minds than to include instances of sleepwalking and talking to worry about.

Instead, Chris offers his own thin smile and a hand in greeting before stepping back to partially lean against a nearby wall. In some respects, it feels like the only way to keep upright. "Chris Sonom, pleasure, Andrew Jaeger. And you've a point: time's likely the only thing to help...but in the meantime, there's precious little sleep to aid it along."

He nods towards the direction of the Medical Wing. "You injured or hoping for miracles?"

[sorser]

[One doesn’t have to be smart to see what they’re dealing with, though the name might as well be a dead giveaway. So, wonderful — more evil god-like beings in which to deal with.]

Like you shot Dormammu?

[Which ended in a transition to another nightmare; not exactly win-win, but better than being stuck in a cycle — unless they dive into something far worse.

He cannot tell, just yet, if this qualifies.]

It’s just you and me. Tell me what you need me to do, and even if we fail, at least we go down fighting.

[abrightboy]

Malcolm blinks.

“What if they don’t want to be safe without you?” he asks as they join the line at the counter.

[cacophonish]

'Trouble' was always a foreign concept in the Calhoun household, his parents taking the hands off, free range thing to the extreme where discipline's concerned. But that's Mike, the older brother, the de facto parent, carrying the weight of the family's burdens on his shoulders for as long as Jeff can remember. He always did his best to steer his brothers away from. Well. Trouble. The kind that existed outside their home, out in the real world.

Nobody asked him to. He just always stepped up like that.

Jeff laughs. It's a little sad. "You're too late. Sorry." He runs both hands through his hair, anxiety prickling at his fingertips. "I fucked up so bad, Mike."

cw: threat of eye related violence

[chrisisofaith]

Blinding white rakes down his back and he can feel his shirt growing wet with his own blood, but he's had too many long hours of practice to loose his focus for pain now. A strangled sound escapes him, but he focus on keeping his hold, aiming to use it to get closer to her face. The closer to those jaws, the harder it'd be to bite and more likely for her to hit herself with a wayward swipe...at least, that's the reasoning.

His other goal becomes apparent as he wraps a hand around his holy symbol again, the beak of the raven skull jutting sharply down from his closed fist. Chris wrenches the amulet from his neck and brings it down in an arch, aiming for the closer of the creature's eye, though the angle is far less than ideal.

[cacophonish]

It doesn't understand what he's doing, why he's cradling that dead thing instead of running or screaming or fighting. Neal's actions don't make any sense to it.

It doesn't understand. And it doesn't care.

The creature crouches down on all fours, moving as naturally as it walked on two legs, an odd sort of grace and fluidity in its grotesque body. It was too tall, standing upright on those overly long legs, but now: now they're at eye level with each other.

It's a better vantage point from which to gore him. And even now, the thing takes its time approaching, as if it knows that the human's end is inevitable.

[cacophonish]

The chase doesn't go for very long. Really, Jeff just reaches the end of the block, rounds the corner, then stops and slouches against the brick of some building. He hugs his arms around his middle, protective, defensive, comforting, who knows.

Fuck.

He just ran away from a cop, while dressed up as a fucking drag witch. Wait, not even a witch, because he already lost the hat. Far as anyone can see, he's just some skinny weirdo in a skimpy dress and fishnet gloves, the thick, smudged eyeliner and smeared gold shadow the only remnants of his half-assed makeup job.

(Thank god he wasn't dumb enough to try and wear heels tonight.)

This is ridiculous. He probably looks fucking deranged. Jeff looks down at himself and sniffles... and then he can't stop himself from laughing.

[chrisisofaith]

There's little pieces here and there, thoughts almost fully realized but there's a sore lack of context that Chris can feel gnawing at this. Curiosity demands answers, reason demands he help this man back to bed. Maybe he can do a bit of both.

"Tell me your reasoning. Pretend I've know idea what you mean, what haven't we known?" He says it gently, in a way he hopes is encouraging as he steps closer to put a hand on the man's shoulder.

deep sigh cw for reference to past sexual assault, some suicidal ideation, death

[ployboy]

[It's that tone, the nonchalance of someone who has lived more than any simple human should--] No. [No, he's not going to step near (to his credit he doesn't step any farther away). Tim can recognize the idiocy in himself but the irrational nature wins that particular war in his head.

Is it really irrational, though? This is a nightmare

why would he let the man any closer?] You're not going to touch me.

[And that's the fact of the matter.

Tim would be as dry as the deserted world of Titan if the blood loss mattered. Therefore: it's fine. He's fine. It hurts so much.

Does it hurt because he's staring down human remains up ahead, discovered by a gust? The body is hardly a body, flesh clinging to the skeleton.

He remembers crying. In front of Superman, Wonder Woman. The guilt of ever thinking the man was dead spurs on another helpless revelation. And this is all just one. sick. joke.] Darkseid is

[get it together, Drake. Tim can't afford superstition. A man can kill a god and he can control this.]

Darkseid's a New God. He had to be put down. I-- [heard the equation of Anti-Life and wanted to die, die, die--] Batman was lost. Everyone thought he was dead. He wasn't! I got him back. [And he'd done everything wrong ever since. Tim sucks in a breath.] I found a Mother Box. It wouldn't open. I was going to strike a deal with a god. See if they'd help. But the Box wouldn't open. I couldn't get to Apokolips.

[inlieuofadad]

Gil slows with relief when he sees Jeff, feeling unreasonably wrung-out for such a short distance. He stops, for a moment, watching Jeff laugh, and he has to wonder what the hell kind of job this kid's parents did. Yeah, sometimes troubled kids stay troubled no matter what a parent tries to do, he saw enough of that when he was a beat cop. But it's always worse to see a one who could have been okay with a little more of a hand on the wheel.

He walks forward, putting an arm around Jeff's shoulders and glaring at the nearest passerby who takes a moment to stare. He addresses Jeff softly. "Come on kid. You look like hell."

[bloodalwaystells]

In true dreamlike fashion, Jaeger's logic almost-but-not-quite follows a narrative. The problem is that most of it is in his own head, and he looks at Chris blearily.

Terrible things might happen if he tells this young man, but terrible things have already happened. There's a hole in Jaeger's world and it keeps getting bigger.

"It's all been..." Words escape him, and he struggles to pin them down, put them in order and make them make sense. "It's all been for power. Nothing more. The money, the artifacts, the 'security'. It's their personal hit squad, that's all. It's all it's ever been."

As he talks, the bile rises up in him. Anger at all the lies, the broken faith. The horrible loss, everything he thought he knew gutted.

Followed with a quick chaser of despair, the knowledge that his hands were no cleaner. No, angry is better, easier to manage. Anger might keep him alive a little longer.

[bloodalwaystells]

Whatever memory that's there is vague, clouded by exhaustion and dreams. At some point, it will likely occur to Jaeger that Chris is faintly familiar, but that could also be chalked up to seeing him at orientation.

Probably the less said of dreams, the better. At least for now.

Jaeger accepts the offered handshake, though it's not as strong and brisk as it normally might be. His skin is slightly chilled, the light in his blue-gray eyes faded with fatigue.

"I woke up feeling off, so I thought I'd get checked out. Just to be sure...maybe fluids or a B-vitamin shot to help shake things." He adds quickly, "I don't think I'm sick. I think it's an after-effect of everything. Something like body shock."

Or the after-effects of being fed on by something. He's not going to discount that, either, as unpleasant as the thought might be. But mora and other fear demons do exist in his world, and that means the possibility is there in this one as well.

[conning]

Uh oh.

Neal has more qualms than he used to about getting into other people's business, but they still aren't enough qualms for him to redirect this. If Jeff is in trouble, he wants to know. He lifts a hand to squeeze the younger man's shoulder. "Hey, man. Whatever it is, we can figure it out."

[cacophonish]

He startles briefly, as if expecting a punch more than an arm around his shoulders. Jeff wipes his eyes, which doesn't really help much, just smears more makeup around, and lets out another smaller, weaker laugh.

"Some costume, huh. I was a witch, um, until I-- I lost the hat." Jeff sniffs, looking around furtively. Yeah, a few passersby are shooting some weird looks, and normally Jeff wouldn't care much. But now he kind of feels like he's dragging Gil down in the gutters with him.

It's better to just go with him. Get off the streets for a change.

"Do you... Do you think I'm, um, that I'm a bad person?" he asks, hesitantly, like he's not sure he wants to hear the answer.

III. WHEN HE NOTHING SHINES - C - u tired of me yet (Cw for altered states/BACCHANALIA)

[conning]

Maybe Neal is tired enough to be more susceptible. Maybe he's too wrung out to be as careful as he should be, particularly given... everything. Maybe he's drawn to the music, the vague sense of release it seems to carry.

Regardless of how it happens, he's close enough when Jeff starts to sing that some part of him is hooked and reeled in like an idiot fish. He even recognizes Jeff, under his ridiculous Rocky Horror witch get-up, and has a moment to connect the music to the growing euphoria swamping his thoughts before the spell embeds itself under his skin, mental alarms switching off as he lets himself go. And it's a relief, it's such a relief to feel purely, ecstatically good.

It's the kind of rush he's only ever associated with a risky score, something big going so close to wrong that the adrenaline negates the knowledge that a bullet or a long drop could be the final act. It's like that, but somehow more. He grabs the nearest person, a man close to his own age with a wedding ring, and kisses him fiercely, one hand tangling in the man's hair, the other going around his waist. He's barely coherent, the physical looping back to feed the emotional, brain fogging in a very different way than the sleep that's plagued the town for a month or more. The stranger kisses him back, and it just makes Neal feel more desperate, drawn into the growing crowd until he bumps right up against Jeff without realizing it. He's entirely lost, his own shirt half-unbuttoned, tangled up in kisses with a man whose face he hasn't seen enough of to recognize.

[cacophonish]

The hand is a gentle weight on his shoulder, and if he were awake, it might be grounding. Instead, it's another dreamy impression, tied to a person who isn't even here.

"No..." Jeff shakes his head, then smiles weakly, because of course Mike would say that. "I should've told you months ago. I wish-- I wish I had, you know." He looks out ahead as they walk, fingers fidgeting, tugging at his hair. "There's something in my head, man."