apocalypsehowcomm | Event

Event - Lullaby

Lullaby

➥ For You Never Shut Your Eye

Photo of a small grassy area within an urban environment. Two men are passed out across the grass and sidewalk. There is a purple gradient filter over the photo.
(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

A caucasian woman is lying on the floor, eyes closed. The room is dark around her with a spotlight shining on her. A secondary image of the woman, semi-transparent and wrapped in white clothes floats just above the woman on the floor. There is a purple gradient filter over the photo.
(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

Three sheet ghost halloween decorations stand in a line. There is a purple gradient filter over the photo.
(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

A caucasian woman has just woken up and stares grumpily at her phone. There is a purple gradient filter over the photo.
(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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Please pose questions HERE.

𝐈. 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐒𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐌𝐞 𝐒𝐥𝐞𝐞𝐩𝐰𝐚𝐥𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠?
cw unjust imprisonment and trial, assault, sexual assault

(The places Ren ends up relieving through his nightmares are plenty. It seems like each and every time he dozes off, he finds himself awakening in a completely different place than the last one he remembers. This time around, however, it seems he's safe and sound under the protection of Bonnie's flophouse. As he walks the thin line between dream and reality, one may hear him dispute-- nay, mutter under his breath. It's not the Ren he knows, sweet and yet strong and imposing in nature, full of bravado and unbelievable kindness. This? This is a younger Ren, a Ren who's scared. Traumatized, truly, as he holds his arms in his hands and buries his face on his knees as he sinks his feet further on the chair.)

Why won't you believe me? I would never-- I didn't do it!

𝐈𝐈. 𝐂𝐮𝐳 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐁𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐇𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝;
cw police brutality, violence, blood, dissociation, drugs, disintegration from reality, death, derealization, needles, fake realities, mental status alterations.

(The room is gray, lit harshly, and yet not enough so that the people inside it feel less and less comfortable as time goes by. The silence is deafening, and Ren sits with his arms behind his back, tied together by handcuffs. He looks his worst, with bruises purple and reddening the pale skin of his face, blood oozing from open wounds and if one's not careful, they might step on a syringe that rests on the floor after doing their damage.

Ren barely breathes. Each breath he draws is done with severe difficulty like blood is floating in his lungs. He might die, any minute now. Maybe saving him is not a waste of time, but Ren refuses to believe whoever is there has his best intentions in mind.
Whoever comes close gets a nice splat of blood to the face, as he struggles to breathe out the few words he speaks:)

I'm not telling you anything.

𝐈𝐈𝐈. 𝐇𝐚𝐯𝐞𝐧'𝐭 𝐘𝐨𝐮 𝐍𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐌𝐞 𝐃𝐫𝐢𝐟𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠?
cw blood, gore, description of body horror, violence

a) (Finally, the intrusive bullshit seems to have subsided. Ren feels excited, delighted to partake in an event to take his mind out of things-- if only it hadn't been a dream. Ren does put his cop outfit to work, his red lipstick and waist-long hair framing his features. Ah, he's so happy. Ren thrives where people are, and finding them all having fun after a difficult time is nothing other than joy.

Ren can be found literally everywhere at the party, but the food is where he's spending the most. Ren's got a very particular skill of being able to recreate things that he tastes with near-perfect accuracy, so he's stuffing his face as he writes the notes on his phone, happy to be here, for now.)

b) (And then, everything goes to shit. Ren watches as familiar, beloved faces turn animalistic, there's little to no light to view where the threats come from. All he hears is the horror, and Ren's thundering voice considers no other option but to call:)

Come, Satan--

(No? Where's the electric fire that engulfs him, converts him, his gigantic wings that bat magnificently as they are released? Nothing? Absolutely zero? Well, fuck. Ren's next best choice is this signature dagger, veiled under his skirt, against his outer thigh. Freeing himself from the stiletto heels first, lunging after. Aid him, fight him-- your choice.)

𝐈𝐕. 𝐎𝐡, 𝐋𝐞𝐭 𝐌𝐞 𝐓𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐘𝐨𝐮, 𝐈 𝐀𝐦.
cw smoking, underage drinking

(Saying he's tired is an understatement, but Ren's two things. One, Ren's stubborn. He supposes parties are great means to fraternize and bond after the shitty time they've all had, and two, he's great at refocusing his energies. He's killed in this nightmare, albeit for self-defense, and he does not wish to talk about it. Meet him in a new outfit, because for a while, he does not want to even glance at the leather cop outfit he's bought for Halloween night. This time around, Ren bears a flowy cherry dress, with a flower pin on his hair, and matching heels.

With a scarlet smile, he finds himself outside, a cigarette between his lips staining his fingers with the smudged lipstick and he sighs. He's not even going to hide it - he's legal, at least. Instead, he wordlessly offers it, just in case. It's been a shitshow. They deserve to relax.)

Edited 2021-10-16 02:32 (UTC)

((OOC: Plotting post here! Feel free to message me there or at brimstonemuse for plotting or custom starters!))

➥ For You Never Shut Your Eye

Jaeger vaguely remembers the last few pokes from the band around his arm, jolting awake in a sudden half-panic as the tiny dose of adrenaline hits his system.

It's keeping him awake, at least, or making sure he doesn't nod off for more than a couple minutes at a time. He's going to need to sleep eventually, but it's not the first time he's pulled an all-nighter and it won't be the last. Coffee helps. So does walking around, roaming on endless patrol with only brief breaks for more caffeine. His eyes feel gritty and raw, his back aches, and all he wants to do is lay down, but at least for now, he's holding the fort.

Except...is he really awake? He thinks it's been a while since he's felt the familiar poke of the wake-up band. Light has the strangest cast to it, the halls empty and echoing and entirely too big from what he remembers. And yet, it all looks familiar in a terrible way, floors he's walked a thousand times and yet never lose their quiet sense of suffocating dread.

The haze is so heavy, even regular faces take on strange and menacing or just plain painful familiarity. Jaeger finds words, but they're barely more than a harsh whisper, distracted by the strangeness of this scene.

"You shouldn't be here."

➥ Till the Sun Is In the Sky

A. CW: Gore, violent death, human sacrifice, torture, knives/scalpels, humiliation and imprisonment

Jaeger has been having a very hard time sleeping, but eventually, it's a necessity. Not a pleasant one, especially not stretched out on a break room bench, but there's a point where he just can't go anymore.

And that's when the horror really starts. Sensations creep back into the darkness, until there's the faint, flat dripping of water on stone and the clinking rattle of chain. He knows those chains too well, knows from experience that they will prove to be attached to his ankles, wrists, and waist.

The figure in the vinyl suit is wrapped head to toe in sleek, shiny black, a paper-mache rabbit mask hiding her features. It's dramatic and frightening and makes absolutely no sense, but when do dreams ever? Even when they're of things that have happened in the past.

The knife is so small, but so, so sharp. The cuts already covering his arms and chest sting raw with the trickles of sweat and blood. She's always sure that he can see the blade, the flash of silver the brightest thing there is in here.

He knows she's smiling under the mask, but the rabbit face is frozen in a blank stare. Huge, empty black glass eyes, the impression of a gently curved jawline and slim neck under the bottom edge. Feminine, delicate, as delicate as the hands that hold the razor at attention.

"There's nothing more we want from you, sweetie." Her head turns while her body remains motionless, a gruesome illusion of detachment, that painted gaze set on everything and nothing. "Nothing more you can do for us."

B. CW: Gore, violent death

It's a lovely house, three bedrooms with a bright, sunshine-soaked kitchen, a lavish entertainment room, and a nice patch of carefully landscaped lawn and hedge. It's not the house Jaeger grew up in, and that's just fine with him...this is his, his own life and space. It's where he's going to be happy, where things are going to be good...

Even if he's not sleeping so well. Coffee helps, dark and strong the way he likes it, and he does his best to shake the lingering echoes of bad dreams. The morning crossword puzzle, maybe, and some English muffins with butter and jam. He should work out today, but maybe he'll just go for a jog instead.

The knock at the door shakes him further out of his haze, makes him pause and put down his mug.

He has no reason to worry about the door, right? He's home. Everything is good, everything is clean and safe. Everything that's come before this is just a dream, and it's his own voice, quiet and deep and the way it used to be, telling him that it's fine.

➥ When the Blazing Sun Is Gone CW: Spiders, strangulation, death by venom, possible mauling/animal violence

Jaeger's nerves are still fragile after the ordeal of dreaming death, but it seems like the Halloween party is important. He should attend, if just as a show of solidarity with ADI and his co-workers there.

He'll even dress up, in a long black coat, hat, and bird-head mask. His cane is by his side, a convenient accessory for his Plague Doctor costume, and he's at least somewhat game to try and socialize.

Until...until. Things change around him, warp and rip and break and bleed. Suddenly the party is a lot livelier than expected, and Jaeger is only armed with a hardwood cane to defend himself. Because the spark of his powers is just gone, leaving him scrambling and bereft.

It's not going to stop him from coming to the aid of others, though, or fighting his way out. He's quick to crush a formerly crepe-paper bat out of the sky like a home-run batter, dodging strangling loops of web from above as he makes his way to something defensible.

((OOC: I'm open to having Jaeger mauled and killed in this prompt, otherwise he will likely succumb to a giant spider bite! Until then he will be doing his best to help others, or trying to take down those that transform when it becomes clear there's no way out.))

➥ When He Nothing Shines Upon

Coffee isn't going to help this one. It's a shocked, shaken, and very unsteady Jaeger that can be found wandering around in the aftermath of the nightmares, buttoned up tight in his longcoat and head held low as he tries to focus on being awake. On staying awake, even though it might be safe to sleep now.

It might be. And gods does he need it, because he's weak and flu-ish from what's been taken from him, from the parade of horrors that have haunted his unnatural sleep these past few days. From dying, again, in ways that his feverish imagination was entirely too happy to help with.

Find him in the canteen, staring listlessly at his smoothie and toast, hovering at the edge of the Counseling department, or possibly haunting the Medical wing for whatever might help his state. Vitamin B shots, maybe?

And yet. And yet. He will still be at the actually Halloween event, still dressed in his long black coat. It's creepy and atmospheric enough to count, okay? Mostly, he's there to make sure everyone is okay and that it doesn't turn into another nightmare, but he'll sip cider and nibble on cookies while he watches the crowd, greeting familiar faces with a deeply weary look.

cw: blood, violence, gore, murders, injuries, body horror, character deaths, mauling, cannibalism, ptsd, decapitation

→ For You Never Shut Your Eye:

This isn't exactly how he thought his life would go after graduating from college. He was planning to stay in New York, with Cory and Topanga and Shawn. Finding yourself in an entire different universe that seems to be just this side of malevolent?

Cool, but weird.

Not that he isn't well-aware of the fact that he might be stuck here, it's just so, so much easier not to think about it. Besides, he'll have the best story to tell when he gets home, right? And this place is neat in its own way?

He hopes those are not famous last words.

The weird music isn't helping. It's been getting worse and worse and he's been getting sleepier and sleepier. It's been helping to go out and try to help find the source of the music, having something active to do helps keep him awake, but he settles down on a park bench to just--just take a rest, for a moment. It's fine. He's fine.

He jolts in and out of sleep, and suddenly screams, "Purple crocodile tiles!"

→ Till the Sun Is In the Sky:

He's running.

He's running through the hallways, the lights are flickering on and off, and thunder crashes in the distance. It feels like he's totally seen this in the movies but this isn't the movies? This is actually, really happening and--and someone--no, something is chasing him.

"There's gotta be--somebody help!"

--there's the sound of a chainsaw, and suddenly the door next to him bursts into splinters, and a figure with a hockey mask comes stumbling out of it.

Eric screams, jumping back into another doorway and tripping over an office chair. His ankle twists and he goes down hard--desperately he tries to stand back up again, but his ankle can't support him and he collapses again, the sound of the chainsaw getting closer and closer--

"No--hey--look, I'm sure we can have a perfectly reasonable conversation--like..." he holds his hands up, scooting back into the office, which has no other point of exit. "What is your--your motivation, anyway? And you know what? Has anybody ever asked how you are doing? Because I care, buddy, I care about--"

He doesn't get much out after that because the chainsaw-wielding figure promptly slices his head off.

And then he wakes up, screaming, in the canteen, falling out of his chair.

→ When the Blazing Sun Is Gone Part A:

Look, he's going to have fun, dammit.

Things seemed to have settled down for now, and yeah, he's certainly had a time with those awful nightmares, but he's trying not to deal with that for now. It's been a few days anyway, and every passing day makes it a little easier. Everybody gets horrific realistic nightmares every so often, right?

He's enjoying himself here, wearing the world's cheapest costume--a paper bag on the top of his head with a wolf face drawn on it, mingling and snacking and playing games--he was pretty good at the gross food booth, all things considered, when the lights go out and the song cuts on. Eric just laughs.

"Oh cool, so this is like, part of the whole scary party theme thing, right?"

...right?

...and then everything goes terribly, terribly wrong. Suddenly everything hurts, enough that he drops to his knees, and he can hear the commotions and cries of pain around him. For a second he thinks he's simply sick--one too many apples bobbed for, maybe he should cut back on the cupcakes--but it's not just a stomach ache, it's an everything-ache. There's a cracking sound and he yells, his spine jolting with pain. Something cuts his mouth and drops into his hands--

--were those his teeth!?

He reaches up to his mouth but there's teeth still there--big ones, really big ones that are just there, like, fang-sized ones. And then claws rip out from his fingers and he drops the teeth, a cry of pain escaping him.

It would almost be funny, the absurdity of it all, if it wasn't so horrifying.

"I--somebody help!" He reaches over to grab the nearest person to him--already his eyes are glowing gold, fur starting to creep over his face.

→ When the Blazing Sun Is Gone Part B:

He can't remember why he was so upset.

This is so fun?

He stomps through the ruined party, through the hallways, through rooms, looking in search for prey. He's a massive werewolf, tall enough that he has to duck and squeeze through an ordinary-sized door just to get through, so sometimes he'll walk on all fours. He slams a paw not just into, but through a desk or table to get it out of the way.

He can smell them nearby. This is so easy.

He howls occasionally for the fun of it, but also because it tends to scare people more when they hear him coming.

"Come on, who's afraid of the big bad wolf?"

→ When He Nothing Shines Upon Part A:

Eric wakes up curled up on the floor of a random office and doesn't move for...maybe hours.

He cries.

It's late when he arrives to the party finally, looking worse for the wear, his hair all messy and dark circles under his eyes. He's not sure why he's come back here--maybe to reassure himself that this is reality, but he's not really sure he can stand to be here much longer.

→ When He Nothing Shines Upon Part B/Network Post:

un: goodlookingguy

Uh so does this place usually suck this much or what

ooc: Plotting post here

Edited 2021-10-16 18:35 (UTC)

𝕀 𝕙𝕒𝕕 𝕒 𝕕𝕣𝕖𝕒𝕞 𝕥𝕙𝕒𝕥 𝕪𝕠𝕦 𝕨𝕖𝕣𝕖 𝕞𝕚𝕟𝕖

○ I've had that dream
➼ a thousand times

( It feels a little like a cruel joke, in a way. The people around him keep slipping into sleep like it's the easiest thing in the world, and still Jack wanders through the hours apparently unaffected by whatever... strange phenomenon has been going on. That's nothing new, he's used to it — both the sleeplessness and the weirdness, but still. It's a little like somebody taking away his prosthetic and asking him to play Twister.

On what must surely be a completely unrelated note, getting used to his new prescription is weird. He's not sure what the difference is between what he's on here and what he was on back home, but whatever it is it's kicking up his ʜᴀʟʟᴜᴄɪɴᴀᴛɪᴏɴs to an uncomfortable frequency. Maybe he just went a little too long without them, maybe they need to build up in his system again. Whatever it is, it can't happen fast enough. He's starting to... fray.

Tonight is apparently a particularly rough one. He volunteered to test the sleep devices — it's not like he has a job yet, and it kind of seemed to just... fit, you know? Sending in the guy who doesn't sleep to test the machines that might do weird things to people sleeping. There's bound to be some usefulness to be found there. The thing is, the R&D lab is in the basement, and basements are always...

Spooky.

So he's in this spooky basement just like every possible horror movie cliché, it's the middle of the night because that's the best time to do a sleep study, the place is eerily silent thanks to the extremely minimal staffing going on at this hour. It has that liminal space feel, kind of like showing up to your high school after the sun's gone down and all the students have gone home. Just... off. Particularly when he gets a look through a few of the office windows as he passes by and sees what little people are here asleep. It's like they just dropped wherever they were sitting; a man at a desk stretches one arm out long, resting his head on it. Across from him at a lab table, two people slump with their heads on their crossed forearms. Room after room is like this, and the more of them Jack passes the faster his heart starts to beat.

In hindsight, that may have something to do with the arm band he'd forgotten he was wearing jabbing adrenaline into his system. But, as Jerry likes to say, hindsight's a forty.

And then the overhead lights flicker. One by one down the stretching hallway (has it always been that long?) they go out; snap, snap, snap, until the only one left is the one directly overhead. )

Um... hello? On the off chance that was a person on the custodial staff and not... something that wants to eat my soul— somebody's in here! Could you... flip those back on please? It's kind of freaking me out.

○ A thousand times
➼ a thousand times

( It's here.

There's surprisingly little fanfare to announce the coming of the apocalypse. No tidal waves, no earthquakes, nothing that even remotely validates the movie 2012 in the slightest, which... thank you. If humanity has to go, at least let it go disproving what a horrible piece of crap that film was. Silver lining, he guesses.

No, it just comes in the form of clouds. He'd been on a sidewalk headed toward a bookstore he's been in nearly every day since he arrived (he knows the staff's names better than he knows some of the people at Bonnie's, which is... probably a little fucked up), the sun out, weather arguably cheerful. Too cheerful. Suspiciously cheerful. The next, deep dark storm clouds began to roll in. They started blotting out the sun, casting deep shadows, darkening the street and the buildings and the everything — and they just... didn't stop rolling in. Thicker, heavier, darker, darker, darker, until that darkness began to consume the world around him.

People were the first to go, eaten by a cumulonimbus. Buildings were next, swallowed whole by fog. Then the cars, the street, the sidewalk beneath him.

He's the only thing that's left. At first.

And then comes the voice, rumbling in from all around him and inside him; inside his head, reverberating through his chest, shaking his bones. The best way he could describe it is like... if the thunder that went along with those clouds took a hit of reverse-helium and then decided to copulate with the Chocolate Rain guy. He can't see the entity speaking, exactly, because there's no light. He can still feel it. In an inexplicable way, he can feel what it looks like — it's like if teeth were made of agony. It's like if incisors were twisting bodies bound in sheets, writhing in a great nothing-mouth.

"I̍ ͧ̐̓̓͝h̛͂̂ͭ̿̍̚a͋̃v̡͋̎ĕ̵ͤ͐̌̑̚ ̑͆̒ͤ̈́̃ͨȁ̎r̡̊̓̀̈̍̉̃r͋̾ͪ̃͒̀͛͢i̛̒͆vͩ̑͐͒e̸d̶̅̄́ͥ̍̊." )

Yeah, I... I got that.

( "So ͟t̶o͜o͞ w̕it͞h̵ mȩ comȩs ͝t̵he g͟re̷a̡t̴ ̧end, ͢but ̷a͝l̨s͡o̧ th̨e҉ ̴te̡r̛r͝i͠ble̷ ͘beģi̕n̨n̴i̸ng̶.̕ I w̵il҉l͢ ͟re͠m̛a̵ke y̵our͠ wor̡l̀d̀ ̴a͜ǹew̢.͡ ̢I̸ w͜i̶l͡l̕ g̷ra̴n̴t ev̷e͡r̕y ҉l͜i̶v́in̢g̴ ̨cre͡a̕t̶u̴re th͞è g͘i͡f̛t̀ of̡ ͟eve̷rl̷as͞ting li͟fe, t̶h̵e ͡m͝aj͟es̷t̶y of im͟m̨or̵t̶alit͢y,͠ an҉d ͡I ͏will ͞watch̶ ̢e͏ver̵y͘ ́s͝in̸gl͞e̷ ͠on҉e ̨s͝u͏f͟fer͢ wi͞th́ a̶ ̀to̵r͏m̕ent ̷ta͠i͜lor̨e̛d͜ ̕t̢o̵ ͞t͢h͢eir̛ ͡grea̢tes̕t ̷f͏ears ánd wea͟kn̨esses. I wi̡l̸l ̶f̴e͟e͡l̀ t̛he ̕m̷i̡şer͏y̨ ͜of ̛sév͠ȩn̴ bil̀l͡i͢o̧n huma̷ns,͝ t͟hre̕e͟ t͝ŕilĺion ̶t͜re҉e̵s͡, ̧a̶n҉d nin͜e ͞hun͜dre̵d ̸mill͜io̡n̛ p͡u͝ppi̧es͠. ̷B̵e͜ginn̢i̢n̶g with ̕y̴ou̴,̴ ̵án̨d̵ t̡he s͠t͟a͢ŕt of̕ yo̸ur everla̢st҉ing ̶h̡ęll.̀ Fro̴m ͢h̛e̕r̸è, f͠ro̡m̧ t̨he͟ em̢p҉t͝y,̧ ͏I͠ ẃill̨ ͠m͘a̛ķe ́y̢o̷u wa͢t̀c̶h." )

I'd prefer it if you didn't?

( "T̨oo̶ ̛b̀ąd̴. ̨L͠i̡f̷e͏ ̨su҉cḱs, ͡get͡ a͟ hęl͞m͠e҉t" )

Would that help?

( "A̘͙̮͓͇̱ p͇̬a͈̼̜̲i͈n̴͈͎̤̮ͅͅ ̙͍̜͠ḥ̨̣̳̭̳e̵̦̰̰̺l͖̼̻̯͉̩̕m̻̀et̞͇̞̙̜͘." )

Oh... no thank you.

( And then he spots movement in the dark. Color. Not... light, but still sight. A familiar face, another displaced a foot and a mile and a light year and an inch away from him. )

Oh, hey. Small- ( not a small world anymore, is it? He finishes the sentence with an awkward— ) ...void.

○ If my eyes were open
➼ I'd be kicking the doors in

( He wasn't going to come to this party. After everything, after the inexplicable immersion into everyone's dreams, the hallucinations rolling through his mind for hours or days at a time, and the inconvenient gently traumatizing experience of living through a thousand deaths, he was feeling a little more like bubble bath than costume party. Unfortunately, Jack isn't alone in the world and his best friend is pretty convincing. Although... really, all it took was free booze. Sue him, it's a customary coping mechanism where he's from.

Upon his staunch refusal to dress up, Jerry split the difference.

"Ta-da! You're a baseball player," He said as he handed Jack his bat (Ricardo), and stuffed a baseball cap on his head, and, for some reason... offered up a peg leg? When Jack mentioned that was more of a pirate thing, Jerry corrected it proudly to, "A baseball pirate."

Despite the little trickle of guilt Jack felt about it, he opted out of the peg leg.

Turns out? Incredible foresight on his part, because he would not be able to run on that stump without wiping out and dying. Again. What wasn't great foresight was the three or so shots he had leading up to this moment.

A man dressed as a vampire opened his mouth. Jack had just enough time to find himself impressed by the incredibly realistic set of fangs he wore before the man absolutely shredded the throat of the person he was dancing with. Just, straight up tore it out in a visceral outpouring of blood and carnage. )

Um... Jerry?

( He calls out, unable to completely keep the alarm out of his tone. On the off-chance this is another hallucination, he politely reaches out to grab the bicep of the nearest person standing next to him. )

Hey, weird question, but uh... Are you seeing that too?

○ But all I have
➼ is this old dream I've always had

( So, he's doing... not great. Everything that went down over the last few weeks has absolutely depleted his mental reserves, shaken his confidence in his inevitably declining sanity, and left him feeling like he's suffering a mild case of swine flu. He can generally be found sprawled out on a couch at Bonnie's, a book in his lap that he's staring at, but he hasn't turned a page in at least half an hour. He can also be found at medical, waiting to talk to either a doctor or someone willing to provide a little counseling. He could use a little help from either one. )

misc. notes:

• Jack does not actually have insomnia like he believes; instead he has trauma induced parasomnia — essentially, he only ever hits the lightest stage of REM sleep, and acts out his dreams. This means he often retains some awareness of his surroundings, and it can be hard for the people around him to notice he's dreaming. Episodes of this come with disorientation, hallucinations (dreams), and lost time. If this is something your character would be able to detect, feel free to have them pick up on it!
• Please feel free to take the wheel and guide us through your character's dream, I love playing with dream physics and highly metaphorical trippy shit.
• Hit me up on plurk

rifting or disco @ Em#8430 if you need to hash anything out — but I'm a master at winging it, so I'll roll with literally anything you give me on the fly.
• Defaulted to brackets out of habit, but I'll happily switch to prose if that's your jam.

I. For You Never Shut Your Eye
(cw: supernaturally-induced sleep/fatigue; supernaturally-induced sleep disorders/somniloquy)

It's not exactly unusual to find Thackery asleep on the job at ADI. After all, despite being human mentally, physically he is very much a cat with a cat's need for a healthy sixteen hours of sleep each day. Lately, though, it's become rare to see him doing anything other than sleeping, to the point that he's started missing curfew, spending a lot of his nights sacked out somewhere at headquarters simply by dint of waking up too late in the evening to go 'home.' One might come across him napping on a high shelf in the library, under a desk tucked up next to a nice, warm computer tower, up in the vents, or anywhere else he happens to find comfortable that day.

On the rare occasions when he's not sleeping, he's out looking for the source of the music. Day or night, he goes out roaming regardless of the hour and regardless of whether he has anyone to go with him, his illusory human form an almost ghostly figure in white with bags under his eyes. Here and there he'll pause, head cocked, then go stumbling off in the direction of the music, trying to track it down. And of course, here and there he'll forget himself and curl up to sleep on a park bench or under the eave of a storefront.

II. Till the Sun Is in the Sky
(cw: character death; harm to and death of a cat; harm to and death of children; burning to death; drowning; mutilation via magic; death by vehicular collision; death by falling; death by poison; supernaturally-induced sleep/fatigue; thanatophobia)

Thackery dreams of witches that hypnotize and suck the lives from the children of Gloucester, and he dreams of all the ways in which they kill him when he tries to intervene. He dreams of being roasted over a fire, of being held down in a cauldron of bubbling potion until he drowns, of his body being twisted and mutilated by magic until he can't move, can't breathe, can't survive. He dreams, too, of more mundane deaths, of being hit (again) by a car, misjudging a jump and falling too far from a tree, or eating a poisoned rat and suffering agony in his gut until his body gives out.

It feels as real as any death he's suffered before, but like all those real deaths he knows, as he dies, that he'll only come back again. There's nothing to fear but the pain he feels along the way, though even his ability to remain blasé about dying begins to wear thin as the days go by and his sleep becomes more and more fitful, his attempts to avoid the pain of death more and more frantic.

But worse than dying is to see someone else die, and in those moments when his dreams mix with those of another he sets his own dread aside unquestioningly, hurling himself in the way of harm to try to protect the friend or coworker he sees facing down some dread portent of their own. He'll come back. The same, to his sleeping mind, can't be said for everyone else.

When the Blazing Sun Is Gone
(cw: supernaturally induced sleep/fatigue; character death; cat death; detailed description of painful physical transformation; violence; mental status alterations)

It's a relief when the dreams finally (seem to) end, though Thackery spends the last days leading up to the party still roving throughout Gloucester, troubled by the sudden absence of the music. It's easier to stay awake now, but there's no music at all to guide him as he treads and retreads the graveyards in exploration, trying to catch just a note of the music once again. It can't just be gone so easily.

All the same, he lets himself get talked into attending the party, even into dressing up in the first Halloween costume he's ever worn. He's awkward and on edge in the hubbub of the celebration, unable to let go of the strangeness of actually celebrating All Hallows' Eve rather than spending it skulking around the Sanderson house. Still, as the evening wears on he starts to loosen up and even have a little fun. At the entrance to the spooky maze he glances up at one of the other party-goers. "Race you through?" he suggests, for once in good humor.

At 9:00 Thackery is curled up on a table in the canteen by the refreshments, tail twitching in time to the music as he watches the people out on the dance floor. This is...fun? It's more fun than he's had in what must be centuries, and he's finally feeling glad that he came, glad to be here even under the larger circumstances.

And then things go very, very wrong. Thackery jumps to his feet when the lights go out and the singing begins, dashing about in the dark trying to find the source of the voice. Something is going to happen, he needs to stop this--

Then there's only agony as bones lengthen and muscles stretch and grow to match, as bloodied wings sprout from his shoulders and his teeth are pushed out by fangs. When it ends he's a creature the size of a tiger, snarling and slavering in pain and anger. He catches a scent or a sound nearby and turns, eyes glinting green in what dim light remains, and pounces.

When He Nothing Shines Upon
(cw: supernaturally-induced fatigue/malaise, thanatophobia)

In the wake of the nightmares, Thackery stubbornly avoids sleep. He haunts the halls of ADI headquarters and the apartments, though he's too tired and sick to keep up his pacing for more than a few minutes before he needs a rest. But then whenever he threatens to nod off he's on his feet again, keeping it up as long as he can before he finally simply cannot keep his eyes open.

[OOC: If anyone would like to kill gargoyle!Thackery, I will take one (1) thread for that. I am open to having him kill as many other characters as desired, or to having him attack someone who ultimately gets away from him. My plotting comment is here.]

full moon. (limit 2)

[exhaustion is a familiar foe. she knows it deep in her bones, packs it between the spaces of skeletal latticework, and moves on. but this grabs her, holds her like still sticky resin, and she feels the headache behind her eyes burning. it's not good enough to succumb while she still feels vulnerable, and so Emily copes by burying herself in as much work as she can do while her hands remain steady. when Medical refuses to give her more, she slips to the Research and Development wing, and continues the project she'd begun soon after arrival. the sooner it's done, the sooner it can be of use.

but hard work only drains the body further, and at a point...well. she's not sure. the world feels far away and foggy, and she's slumped in her seat in the canteen, eyes half closed. reaching out for her cup, she instead knocks it over, to where it falls and breaks on the floor. and then Emily simply...watches the coffee drip down, the reflections in the liquid. after a moment, she'll rouse herself to try to clean the mess, but it's a slow and stilted affair. that she's sleepwalking should really come as no surprise.]

waning moon. (CWs in specific headers.)

[dreams, her bane, are an abyss she slips into, falls into further and further. dark and torrential, a downpour of the soul, and she can't quite shake the feeling this was designed, that this was made to generate hope and throw it away - even the dearest dreams warp under her touch. her heart burns hot in her chest, and in the waking world she's trapped by her own blankets, silently thrashing.

to die and live and die and live again and again. it endlessly runs in her dreams, and even waking can't chase the echoes from her. but maybe, maybe -

maybe there'll be someone else there to share the burden.]

crescent moon.

[when the transformation happens, chaos breaks out. and that, Emily doesn't know how to handle except to run, to keep running, to evade capture. she can't be the bravest here, when nothing is easy, when webs trip her up and sharp teeth feel like they're at her ear. but still, she has to do something, and so it is that she finds resolve and starts to call out to the unchanged, to be a guide in a bright blue witch outfit that might bring people closer to safety. waving, trying to get their attention, hurrying to those that need help and support.

of course, not all bravery is rewarded. as much as she tries to be of help, sometimes it's just taking the monster's attention as well, and then having to try and get away, her life feeling fragile all over again. without weapons, without any special powers, all she can do is flee, and they are getting closer. closer. without help, she will be caught - she will die. and silently, in her heart, Emily prays for that help to come as she flees down the stairs. the lower levels might offer some more room to hide.]

new moon.

[after everything's subsided, Medical is humming, because of course it is. being one of the first to submit to checks and treatment, Emily is...well, to say she's doing fine is an overstatement, but she's upright and stable enough to see to things that don't require holding a scalpel, which generally means checkups and administering the right kinds of shots and treatment plans to those affected by the nightmares. treat it like the end of the flu, was the prevailing tactic, and so she has been, still managing her usual smile to anyone that walks into the department looking for help. they need comfort, care, and she can give it - better than thinking about herself.

her coworkers, though, might notice the edge of tiredness that still lingers around her, how she sits more heavily and seems to be unwilling to slow down despite it. if her time is filled, it means she won't have to think about what happened. and all the while, in free time, Emily's closing in on the solution on R&D. so close - this may not have to happen again, should she get it.]

wildcard.

[ooc: have an idea that's not covered? go ahead and hit me with it! ooc plotting is here, and I will match format of tagins.

for the second prompt, I will be writing custom dreams for different people - feel free to have the dream be as formless or settled as you like, and I'll contact you to discuss specifics.]

(No matter how tired, Ren's not one to simply forego work in place of rest. Once his shift is over, it's his time to eat, and he removes his apron and the hat that holds the curls of his hair to make himself a plate and find a place to sit.

Well, that's completely forgotten once he sees the mess, and the prospective of getting hurt with the shatters-- so he just gently puts his hand on her shoulder.)

Don't worry. I got it. Are you okay?

Ren's seen jager on the aftermath, and truly, he doesn't think he looks too good. Ren doesn't, either, but he'll be damned if Sephora didn't blow some life back into his weary features. In his red dress, he approaches the man, a hand on his shoulder with a small smile on his face. It does seem like Jager is in a better mood than he has been when Ren watched him around ADI, but it doesn't hurt to ask.

"How're you holding up?"

This isn't her dream. Or it is, but it isn't as it should be - too much isn't where it should be, too much is unfamiliar, like she's walking someone else's footsteps instead of her own.

She hears that voice, and something sets in her, sure as the endless clouds that blanket out the sun when the bells toll. And it tells her simple facts - he is injured, she is not. He is captive, she is not. As reflex has always been before, it says simply, change that.

Movement, in the shadows behind the rabbit faced captor. A finger raised to her lips, to ask that he not give her away. And a desperate turning, looking for anything heavy enough that might be suitable to knock them out in a single blow. If not....they'll get to that.

Yes, someone is in here.

[one of the doors opens, and who comes out is a woman with a satchel slung over her shoulder. she doesn't look like she belongs in R&D - no lab coat, not enough hurry in her air - but she looks him over carefully, trying to gauge what she can from his condition - his expression, if he's got any telltale signs of what could be up aside from his armband.]

Are you all right? You look a little pale.

[the fog, the curls of his hair, and the deep color of coffee swirl together as she looks up at him - distant, unrealizing.]

I'm fine, Luca, but it's kind of you...

[heavy, dragging. detachment from the words, even as she's very slowly still trying to pick up the pieces.]

Is your head giving you less trouble today?

I. Till the Sun Is In the Sky
tw: decapitation, gore, burning alive, chemical and surgical operation leading to death
['You' wake up to harsh, clinical, and blinding white, glaring from above. The biting cold air has a bitter and distinctively metallic tang to it, and manages to feel both sterile and unclean, filthy, at the same time. Is that deafening silence, or some strange ringing in 'your' ear that makes it hard to hear? 'Your' entire body feels numb. Something isn't right.

Wherever 'you' fell asleep before, this clearly wasn't it. The surface 'you' are laying on is flat and hard. There's a suffocating oppressiveness in the atmosphere difficult that's to place. 'You' can't move, something hard has 'you' restrained at the wrists and ankles. 'You' could try craning your neck, but the muscles don't obey. Once 'your' sight has adjusted, all you can see is several men in medical scrubs and masks looming over 'you'. None of their faces are visible, but the gleam of various surgical instruments they are openly holding cast a unsettling and sinister glint overhead.]

"Commencing the 42th procedure onto the subject: amputation of the head and all four limbs from the body."

[Their hands move. Saws and knives fall.]
...
[...]
"Commencing the 88th procedure: decaying the subject through corrosive enzymes."
[...]
"Commencing the 168th procedure: enclosing the subject in high heat furnace."
[...]
"Commencing the 274th procedure: inducing and maintaining blood clotting within the subject."
[...]
"Commencing the ---th procedure: removing the subject's bone marrow and placing it in strict isolation."

[...Can 'you' still hear them, after a while? Maybe you imagined most of those, and everything just seems to blur out after some point. Can the passage of time be felt at all, among everything else? Is it even really 'you', undergoing such incomprehensible things to begin with? Maybe, but some of the sensations are truly beyond human understanding. Maybe you were just spectating, watching through someone else's eyes whose life is entirely separate from your own--before what should have snuffed out everything jerks you awake to a different ceiling entirely.

...Is this the ADI office break room? Or the common area in housing block C3? Whatever you felt, whatever you heard, whatever you saw, nightmare would truly be an apt descriptor. A short distance away, a woman with short dark blue hair is stirring as well, seemingly irritated and fed up with a shadowed look behind narrowed blue eyes. It would also be a first for acquaintances: Ciel is habitually always smiling and cheerful, a sharp contrast to the weary indifference she may not even be aware that she's sporting now.

Maybe some (more) coffee is in order, today.]

II. When the Blazing Sun Is Gone
[Thanks to a stroke of ~~Divine Providence~~ dumb luck, Ciel had already offhandedly mentioned to Someone that she'll attend the Halloween party as a nun when it comes. It may have been a joke at the time, but why not, when the person who first asked her about it is supposedly a priest? The habit she arrived to this world in had been put away the moment she found modern clothing to change into, it hasn't been touched from the closet since. It is so that a nun in habit is strolling about on office grounds, tonight. Ending up in Gloucester hasn't done anything to her bigger than average appetite, so she's at the canteen when a little girl starts to sing somewhere.

Pandemonium follows.

II-a: Until she can make her way to B3's training area to arm herself properly, the best improv weapons she could find in the canteen are utensils. Coming across a nun using forks and bread knives as if they were throwing darts to fight against decorations-turned-demonic-critters-out-for-blood is... Probably not your average sight, but it sure is happening, if she is chanced upon while making her way from the canteen to the elevators/stairways leading underground. Her throws are steady and her aim is good; she's landing most of her throws, mixing projectiles with an occasional punch or kick for anything that's gotten too close.

II-b: Once she manages to reach B3's weaponry, cutlery is abandoned for two hand pistols holstered to each side of her ribs, along with a combat knife and a taser at her sides strapped to a tactical belt secured at her waist. Might as well pick up a first aid kit too as the medical facilities are on the same floor, one that she can easily sling over her shoulder to transport. Properly equipped, she'll be better at what she does now, but how long will this last? How do they stop it? Suppose all she can do is try to group up with others who have retained their wits, perhaps offer a fighting hand of assistance to any skirmish she runs across? At least keeping in shape and getting used to her human limits the past month is paying off, as empty as it feels right now. That this is the first time since arrival that she's operating as Security at full capacity... Something feels ironic.]

--Who's there?

[A flash of something, or a sound? Was it down the hallway, behind the turn she just made moments ago, or inside that room just now? Whatever it was, it's got her attention, so she coolly and clearly calls out. Stealth isn't of much use when things are this chaotic, and she can't find others if she doesn't reach out. If that attracts unwanted attention instead, then... so be it. She can handle herself. Should be able to.]

III. When He Nothing Shines Upon
[III-a: So it was all a dream...

...

Well, reality is still reality, and food is food. That ~~dream~~ nightmare was more exhausting than a great deal of crazier stuff she'd had gone through back home, so returning to the canteen was worth it just to refuel; a girl's gotta eat to keep her strength up, after all. Her habit is nice and clean at least, and she has enough pep left to make small talk over sweets and coffee/tea, shall anyone also swing by the area after everything. She'll even happily initiate actually, albeit sheepishly:]

Aha, good afternoon, it's nice that you could make it! There's still a lot of food here, especially candy and chocolate. Would you like a Snickers bar?

[You know what they say: You're not you when you're hungry. Can probably just take a bunch of these wrapped candy/chocolate bars and shove them in your bag to take home tbh, not a lot of people are coming huh...

III-b: But dying (again) was involved to wake up, and she can't deny feeling very, very tired. At some point there will just be one nun-robed girl passed out at a table in the canteen, a head of dark blue tucked atop crossed arms slumped over where she was sitting before. Not the best place to sleep, and the party may or may not have already concluded by then. She may need outside assistance to wake up, lest she accidentally ends up spending the night here...?]

((OOC: For II, she can be intercepted at any point in any way. For II-b, I'm open for her getting killed by player characters, otherwise she'll wear herself out and some mob will eventually get to her. In general, if there's any prompt you would like to modify elements/add a twist to, I'll be happy to work something out! OOC plotting post here.))

Thackery hasn't slept again since he woke up to find it Halloween morning again. He's roamed the halls expecting something to kill him the moment he accepts again that he's truly awoken...or worse, to turn into something that kills.

He pauses in the doorway of an office when he hears the soft sounds of someone crying from within, frozen there for a long minute as the desire to provide some measure of comfort wars with the conviction that contact will only cause suffering to one or both of them as the rug is pulled out from under him yet again.

Finally, concern wins out and he creeps inside. Unless stopped, he'll come up to Eric and then settle in to lay on top of him, purring gently.

For a moment he wonders if he's asleep again, or maybe this is going to be a nightmare, but it's not. He jolts just a little, but settles when he realizes that it's just a cat, purring. Comforting.

Oh.

"That's really nice of you, mister cat," Eric says quietly, wiping his face, his voice still raw. He's still crying, just a little, but it's mostly just tears now. He reaches over to try to pet the top of the cat's head.

un: black

No. Sometimes it’s worse.
Sometimes the terrible happenings aren’t confined to our heads.

[ LISTEN. nightmares are no biggie. he’s trying to prepare eric; you’re welcome, dude. ]

I. Never Shut Your Eye, Others

Winter is pretty used to keeping awake when he desperately wants to sleep. It's survival. It's a mission necessity. It's keeping alert so HYDRA doesn't catch him at less than his best. So he does better than some people, even if he basically attaches himself to a coffee mug whenever he's not on patrol or he's actually allowed to be sleeping.

And he keeps his eyes peeled for other people nodding off on odd places, or acting strange. He'll crouch next to a sleeper and give them a careful prod with metal fingers to wake them up, or lead a babbling person gently to a seat if they aren't making sense. Need a guardian assassin to keep you from passing out in the sidewalk or spilling your darkest secrets? This is your guy.

II. Never Shut Your Eye, Himself

Of course, even the Winter Soldier isn't perfect. One might find him curled up in a corner of the training room, wedged up against a dummy, out of the way and snoozing peacefully. Or maybe at the very end of his patrol route, in an empty office with his rifle tucked in his arms like a very awkward and deadly teddy bear. Or even with his head on his arms on the canteen table.

Be careful waking him. He tends to wake up violent if touched.

III. Sun in the Sky, Choose Your Own Adventure

The Winter Soldier has "died"... many times. If you count medical deaths, anyway.

Nightmare number one, he (or you!) are strapped down to a table, skin crawling with sweat and grime. There's an awful machine hanging over you, and a doctor is muttering in German as he tightens the straps. He pats your arm, and you cringe from the touch, and then the machine lowers-- needles press into your arms and legs-- and everything inside burns--

Nightmare number two, he (or you!) are clinging to the side of a train, blasted open and hanging on to a rail. A burly blonde in a red, white, and blue uniform is reaching for your hand. "Bucky, take my hand!" the blonde says urgently, and you reach. The wind buffets you, the rail creaks ominously. "Bucky, no!" the blonde cries, and the rail breaks, and you fall--

Nightmare number three, he (or you!) are in a small, coffin-like space. Your left arm is gone, everything aches, and you even your enhanced strength can't get the capsule open. You pound and pound on the door, on the little window they left you, but it doesn't open. The hateful doctor with his hateful little glasses smiles at you from the outside, flicks a switch, and the temperature drops suddenly and painfully. You scream, but the window covers in frost, and everything is so cold-- your heart slows... then stops....

Nightmare number four, he (this time, not available as a thing you can experience; be grateful) is strapped into a Chair made out of nightmares. The metal arm is held down with iron shackles. The tech holds out a bite guard and he takes it into his mouth, blank on the outside but terrified on the inside, knowing without remembering what comes next. There's a spark behind his head, and the Chair leans back. He pants around the bite guard as the halo comes down, sparking again, closing over his face, and everything is gone in lightning-fire-pain. It lasts minutes. When it's over, he gasps and whines and twitches, and he has no idea who he is, where he is, what is happening, except that he's helpless and afraid.

Or maybe a dark, masked sniper has shown up in your death. What does he see? Can he rescue you, or are you both doomed?

IV. Sun Is Gone, Non-Monster-Fied

After nights (days?) of nightmare roulette, Winter is still feeling tender and skittish. The idea of doing to a party of all things is as terrifying as dreaming of the Chair again. So he doesn't go. He takes the evening shift of the security patrol instead, remembering Yelena's suggestion about the beach party and how it would be a prime opportunity to strike.

So he's just in his usual uniform and usual compliment of weaponry when the song begins, and people start to change. He swings his rifle into ready position and charges towards the nearest scream.

Even without his serum strength and speed, Winter is highly trained and a natural talent with firearms. Plus, metal arm that no monster or decoration is going to bite through. So he's prowling the halls, taking out monsters who used to be co-workers or even friends, getting between them and their non-transformed victims, and basically trying to clear the place of hostiles. Need a rescue? Need to end a rampage? He's here for you.

V. Nothing Shines, Direct Aftermath

Nightmares are familiar. Nightmares where he's prowling the halls shooting former coworkers and even friends are also pretty familiar, to be honest. So Winter drags himself pretty much immediately into action as soon as he wakes, from where he'd apparently nodded off in a broom closet, hugging his rifle like a stuffed toy again.

He searches the halls for other wakers, people potentially hurt from having fallen asleep in a bad spot or whose nightmare experience was worse than his own. He helps haul people to their feet, helps push things out of their way, offers a canteen of water, and helps get people to... well, the hall medical is in, he won't go any closer than that.

VI. Nothing Shines, Later

When everything is finally cleaned up and people are being cared for, Winter escapes back home, and spends two hours in the bath. Because that's about the only coping mechanism he has, and he is going to fucking use it. Then, perhaps surprisingly, after three days of being "asleep", he sleeps through the whole damn night with no nightmares for the first time since he woke up here. It's... nice.

Though he refuses to go anywhere near the second party, he is... on premises. With his guns. Just in case something awful goes down again.

Thankfully nothing does, so he trudges back to the ADI apartments instead and sits on the first floor couch for a while, just listening to the sounds of people in the building and trying to let that keep him calm. Eventually once his roommates are home, he'll do the same in the living room of the apartment, the only concession to being "home" being his boots are off.

[Hello, Aelwyn, are you ready for the worst week of your life?]

i. for you never shut your eye (and you never woke up.)
cw for references to magically induced sleep deprivation and PTSD

[Aelwyn has been having a really horrific time this entire week. She can't rest, can't trust her dreams, can't focus on anything. Even the work, the planning, it's all going down the drain because how can she plan anything when she's not even sure what's real.

Memory slips and the like are common, and some might even catch her crying to herself in her more and waking moments. But there's one phrase that she repeats incessantly whenever she sleepwalks.]

...you need to listen to me, there's a vault on the first floor.

...there's a vault on the first floor, Adaine. It's where they put our things.

ii. till the sun is in the sky (his destruction will know no bounds)
cw for drowning, natural disasters, shipwreck, celebrity murder, stalking.

[Aelwyn's dream starts out relatively normal. She's supposed to get on a ship, go research... something. They found an... old nest of Kelpies and wanted researchers to accompany the investigators... Yeah.

But the important part is that she's supposed to get on the ship. And someone important's here. Someone incredibly important to The People. She's leaning against the railing when she notices a flash of black and a shining grin behind her.

But instead, it's just her co-worker.]

Oh, it's you. Thought I saw... it doesn't matter.

[Is it just her or are the clouds particularly dark today?]

iii. till the sun is in the sky (the sun shall fall from the heavens)
cw for being trapped in a burning building, sorocide, kidnapping, unreality (obviously)

[She's remembers all the nightmares, and this time, as she stumbles through a house party run by those fuckwits over at the school she committed all that arson at, she knows that she's being followed. The black shade behind her, she knows that. The little girl laughing at her, she doesn't know that.

Is it Kalina, though? She's caught glimpses of her before but she's never spoken, not out loud to her. What's happening to her? What day is it? How long has she been asleep? Where is she?

She finds a quiet spot in the party, grabs a pocket watch she has in her hand and idly presses a button on it.

Time freezes to a screeching halt and she can finally breath.

...Only, she's not alone.]

Who's there?!

iv. till the sun is in the sky (the world as we know it will forever perish)
cw for torture, sleep deprivation, parental abuse, gaslighting, starvation, inhumane treatment of prisoners

[This time, Aelwyn wakes up, staring ahead, bleary eyed and she immediately understands everything that's happened. Her memories are so clear.

She's back inside the orb. And she's hearing her father drone on and on and on.]

"Yes, I'm sure this was all very relaxing for you, Aelwyn, but your lackadaisical fantasies have come to an end. You've been drained of all your spellslots and the orb will continue it's functions shortly. You've made a real mess of things, you know."

[An elven man, with short blonde hair that looks like it's been combed back, rubs his forehead with irritation at the inconvenience caused to him by his eldest daughter getting the chance to sleep and dream of a world where she had another chance, where her sister loved her enough to come save her, where she could ever get away. Aelwyn's silent, staring, will completely broken.]

"There was talk of them just executing you, you know. I managed to talk them down, and it wasn't easy given your early escape attempts, but I managed it because I value the family name and do not wish to see it further dragged through the mud. Unlike the rest of you, apparently. Behave, and perhaps I might be able to undo the damage that the three of you have caused to our standing."

[He leaves, like he never existed at all, and a black cat person, drenched in the shadows, floats above the orb.]

"Tough break, kid. But hey, maybe someone here will save you."

[And she looks up at whoever's visiting this dream, and gives them a wink and a smirk.]

v. when the blazing sun is gone (if i go to hell will you come with me?)
cw for excessive alcohol use, body horror, trying to brutally murder ren specifically

[Aelwyn's spirit is thoroughly soured, and the fact that they're even throwing this party makes her angry. But she goes, because she doesn't want to sour her relationships with this department as well, and she drinks. A lot. And all it serves to do is make her more miserable and detached.

She's wearing white facepaint and some cheap plastic horns over some skull makeup. What's she going as? Fuck off, that's what.

And then the real hunt begins. And she transforms.

Now she's finally a fiend, she growls a dry desolate chuckle.

Ah, so this is what she truly is at her core. A pure evil creature of the Nine Hells. Very well, then. If it worked for Penelope, surely it can work for her too. After all, she was her Queen.

But before finding her queen... It's time to find and KILL Ren Amamiya. And anyone on the road to get to him. Hell, while she's on the way, she'll just kill all the people who have looked down on her.]

vi. when he nothing shines upon (no, it never gave a damn about me)

[She wakes up in her own room. And she doesn't leave her apartment for a few days after that. If you want an in person interaction, you've either gotta be one of her roommates or come looking for her intentionally. Either way, she'll be prickly at best.]

un: aberration

If I hear any of you talk about the real life halloween party one more time, I will actually kill everyone in this office starting with myself.

Kind regards, A.A.

(To clarify for legal purposes, this is a joke. To clarify for you are all insane purposes, you are all completely fucking insane.)

FOR YOU NEVER SHUT YOUR EYE

[He isn’t one to decline when asked to test whether or not a pair of frequency-canceling headphones will work to halt the onslaught of sleep-inducing music; though Stephen isn’t keen on playing guinea pig on the best days, there’s an exception to be made when the situation grows more serious by the day. And so, he’s nestled in the heart of ADI research department, seated at a table with a pair of unwieldy headphones planted on top of his head.

His body language gives off the vibe of “bored”: an elbow on the table, his head resting in his palm. Upon closer inspection?

Yeah, he’s just fallen asleep like that. Maybe someone needs to wake the good doctor up?]

‘TIL THE SUN IS IN THE SKY

((cw: character death + additional content warnings to be added in individual threads as needed.

ooc: I will write-up individual scenarios/nightmares for each tag-in! Feel free to add your own character’s elements in, as well))

[The nightmares start mundanely. There’s nothing terrible or ominous about them at first, though some might skew into the odd territory more often than not — a colorful scene of an otherworldly realm, dark hues of purple and lurid glimpses of green, red, yellow, contrasted so vividly against the other dreams, which run the gamut of what was once everyday life. The long corridors of a hospital, or the slick roads shining black with nighttime rain, curving and stretching for what seems like miles.

But the way they all end — oh, they end so terribly. They all end with death, and with each cyclical pass into a new dream, a fresh new cycle, Stephen gains an awareness of what awaits him at the conclusion of each nightmare. He’s done this before, it feels just like before except with more creativity, and the encroaching of something that doesn’t belong this time, in this new dream — someone.

Beside him, maybe a familiar face. Maybe an unfamiliar one. But either way, this is a consciousness brushing up against his own, not something the dream’s crafting just to be cruel.

But maybe this is worse. Stephen glances at his new partner, visibly alarmed.]

Why are you here?

WHEN THE BLAZING SUN IS GONE

[When the party turns monstrous and murderous, Stephen finds himself spared of horrific transformation; but it’s hardy a mercy, now surrounded by partygoers turned vicious and hungry for blood — and he’s a prime target.

Chaos swirls all around, screams of the transformed and their potential victims entwined into something horrible. And he realizes that this is no time to play coy with his magic, no time to worry about the consequences until guaranteeing that he survives first and foremost, and he extends a hand, attempting to call forth a shield to protect himself and another from an encroaching monster, or a killer party decoration come to life.]

Get behind me!

[But the magic doesn’t come. The connection’s been severed, and this realization dawns on him in waves—How did he not notice before? How did this happen? What now?—and feels like a ball bearing lodged in his chest.

Him, and so many others, are helpless to do much more than just run.]

WHEN HE NOTHING SHINES UPON

un: strange
If you’re experiencing any adverse effects from the shared nightmare, do not wait to get yourself checked by medical. Even if you think it’ll pass, I don't want to take any chances, especially given the nature of what we all just experienced.

This goes double if you found yourself waking up days later in the same spot you fell asleep. You could be dehydrated without even realizing it.

Better safe than sorry.

[For those who feel inclined to actually visit medical, Stephen can be found making his usual rounds, kept busy by the influx of individuals suffering from flu-like symptoms. If he looks tired, worn around the edges, it hardly seems to matter — stubbornness and self-imposed resilience is the theme of the day, and the handful of days after that.]

(Oh. Ren's seen enough of the sleepwalkers to understand that she is not in her right mind right now. Perhaps it'd be less of a shock to her if he played along, slowly woke her up-- and that could keep her from touching the glass, maybe.)

I'm fine. Let me handle it.

(Gently, he picks up the hand that reaches for the shatters, and sets it on the table.)

(Ren's no stranger to outer realms, albeit the ones he's used to seeing are tied to one's cognition - and it's exactly what he imagines this to be at first. The innermost part of Stephen's heart? The fact that Ren's wearing his Phantom Thief attire doesn't really help matters. A passing thought reminds him that these things only exist in his universe, and while the nightmares can offer a perspective, they're not exactly it as he knows it -- it's just very confusing, it's all.

Maybe he can be forgiven for looking absent-minded while he tries to wrap his head around his surroundings. In fact, it's the voice that snaps him out of it.)

I don't know. Why are we here?

( He's been here before. Not here, but more... not-here. It looks a little different every time because it is a little different every time — because, in some ways, it is time. Reality is a lot like a looping song that harmonizes with itself on subsequent verses, but it's a song that's always been playing. Has never not been playing. Even when it wasn't.

It's not surprising that he isn't alone, it's just... usually the other things that don't not exist aren't quite as tangible as him.

Or as chronological.

Also they generally laugh at him for it. Apparently being beholden to these things is kind of like being a drunk toddler. )

I was visiting somebody. ( A beat. ) I mean, I will be, later, but I just got done.

( It's simultaneously true and impossible, it makes no sense and yet, is. Just in case that's not really clear enough, though—)

I'm supposed to be here. Why are you here?

For You Never Shut Your Eye
Open to B1 and anyone around the ADI offices.

The music hadn't bothered him much at home in the ADI complex up to this point, but lately... well. Malcolm has long had trouble telling whether he's asleep or awake when weird things start happening around him. It could be dangerous, if he falls asleep in the office or in the living room of the apartment or walking down the hall and goes into a night terror while he's unrestrained.

Till The Sun Is In The Sky
Open to anyone in the streets who wants a run-in with the serial killer known as 'The Surgeon'... aka Malcolm's father.

He's vaguely aware of dropping the coffee cup in the gutter, of falling, of hitting pavement. He's pretty sure he's scraped the palm of one hand, but it's a fleeting sensation as he feels his body shutting down.

Then his eyes snap open. He's laying in the street. Everything seems suddenly clearer and sharper than it has in a week. He frowns faintly. He sits up and glances around. A normal sunny day on the streets of the town. He pushes to his feet.

"My boy!" crows a delighted voice from behind him. His eyes widen and he turns. Martin Whitly, in his clothes from Vermont, but without the ridiculous blond dye job. Malcolm stumbles a couple of steps back. "My boy, fancy meeting you here!"

"What are you doing here?" Malcolm asks in a level tone that's attempting to mask the waver in his voice, but failing.

"I don't know," Martin admits. "But it's better than where I was, isn't it?" he points out with a grin.

When the Blazing Sun is Gone
Open to anyone at the party

Malcolm doesn't attend the party per se, but he's in the building and when the commotion starts, he heads down there. Monsters ripping people apart, screaming, blood, chaos. He glances around and grabs the nearest piece of decor, a cutout of a jack-o-lantern mounted on a one by two piece of lumber. He snaps off the jack-o-lantern, then adjusts his grip on the stick, ready to fight off whatever he has to if he can save some of the people trying to get out of the room.

When He Nothing Shines Upon
Open anywhere.

Malcolm feels like he's been fooled too often to really believe he's awake. He goes home to B1 and takes a shower. Puts on a clean set of clothes. Takes his knife out of the back of his closet and tucks it into the back of his waistband, under his sweater. He checks in with Meredith and Tim. He calls Neal. He goes for a walk around town. He wants to make sure Martin isn't still hanging around.

Jeff doesn't remember setting up, but here he is, sitting on the sidewalk, leaning back against some storefront, his guitar propped up across his lap as he plucks out a soft, dreamy tune. His guitar case is full of crumpled bills, so he must've been here for a while. Maybe he just got so swept up in the music that he lost track of everything else...

But as soon as he sees Malcolm, he lights up a little, smiling as he calls out to his friend.

"Malcolm! Hey! Wanna hear this song I... uh..."

Oh. Malcolm's got company.

→ For You Never Shut Your Eye (potential P5 spoilers)

A.
[Akechi doesn't often work with technology. Not to say he doesn't understand it -- the gap in knowledge between 20xx and 2021 isn't very broad at all -- he's just never focused his attention on it. And considering that this little arm cuff he's sporting keeps fucking stabbing him every so often, he's unlikely to continue frequenting the R&D department in the future.

Most may know Akechi by sight as a rather polite, conservatively-dressed teenager, quick with a smile or an encouraging word while simultaneously being confident to the point of cocky. Today, however, feels he's taken a mid-day nap that's left him not at all refreshed, and maintaining the illusion of nicety is getting harder and harder. Especially with--]

Enough of this fucking thing, it doesn't do anything! [Enough with the stabbing!! He yanks the cuff off and hurls it across the room, only to freeze once he realizes he has an audience. His awkward laugh is embarrassed and stilted as he tries somehow to reign his anger in and plaster a smile across his face.]

My... apologies. Haha. I'm just a bit tired.

B.
[Without the stupid cuff in the way, eventually, Akechi dozes off in a local café with two cell phones on the table in front of him. Dozes off with his eyes open, that is, a steaming cup of coffee in one hand. Though there is the softest sound accompanying his breathing, something suspiciously like... snoring?]

→ Till the Sun Is In the Sky (cw: gore, vomit, loss of identity, limb loss, character death; spoilers for P5/P5R)

C.
[Goro Akechi wakes with a start, his face pale, breath coming in harsh gasps through parted lips. Eyes dart around frantically, taking in his surroundings; tense muscles only slowly start to relax as he realizes where he is, and that he's finally awake.]

Just another nightmare, [he murmurs to himself as he shakily pushes himself to his feet. Pushes himself to his feet, and then doesn't stop, eyes going wide as something yanks him up, nearly-translucent wires hoisting him up into the air. Blood wells around his throat, his wrists, his ankles, thin wires like fishing line holding him in place as his alarmed yell is strangled into a wheeze. If he can't escape, he's going to be ripped apart-]

D.
[Goro Akechi wakes up. Desperate hands scrabble at his throat, his wrists, nails digging in hard enough to leave bright red welts in their wake as he searches for strings. Nothing.

He stands up slowly, checks that his movements are his own. There's bright sunshine outside, nothing to grab him and suspend him. It doesn't stop him from checking, though, absent fingernails going to his neck once again, just to check. These fucking nightmares. He hasn't been able to get a decent night's sleep in too damn long, and it's starting to get to him. Idly, he wonders if he has a fever. Wonders with a grim humor if that'll finally be the thing that kills him. How funny would it be, after everything he'd done, if he died from something as mundane as illness?

A rush of dizziness sends him staggering, gripping onto the wall of a nearby building for support. Fucking hell. It used to be that he'd wake up early to exercise, do a TV recording, school, cram school, "extracurriculars" in the Metaverse, homework, and then, if he was luckly, catch enough sleep so as not to need too much makeup to get through the same process again the next day. Now, a few days of nightmares are enough to leave him unsteady on his feet. What a fucking joke.

Suddenly nauseous, his eyes widen as he glances around frantically, searching for somewhere to vomit. A nearby trash can will have to do, but what emerges isn't... normal. Something black and viscous spills from his lips as he coughs, feels it welling up in his eyes. His grip on the trash can starts shaking as he almost collapses, desperately trying to keep himself together, even as it feels like his insides are heating up and melting from the inside.]

E.
[Goro Akechi wakes up. He's seated, handcuffed to a chair. His vision blurs. Someone is holding a gun against his forehead. Rage swells within his body, and he screams, kicking frantically, desperately, to escape. He's not going to fucking die like this-]

→ When the Blazing Sun Is Gone

F.
[Akechi had intended to come to the Halloween party in a rather classy outfit: a prince, perhaps, or a knight. With a kind of dark humor, he'd even considered an overly-formal suit and claimed being a politician, the most terrifying force he could think of.

No, Ren had decided that it would be hilarious if he showed up wearing a cheap mask of a crow, paired with an all-black button-down and trousers. Still, it isn't like "Crow" doesn't have a deeply personal meaning to him, and besides, Halloween is about dressing the part of a fool, isn't it? If he pushes the mask up on his forehead, it certainly doesn't feel any stranger than his old prince outfit.

That is, until he opens his mouth to laugh at some point, and his mouth doesn't stop opening. His jaw cracks, elongating into a sharp, pointed beak. The inky black feathers of the mask flare and spread, coating his entire body as he hacks once, twice, spitting out the bones that had once been his teeth across the floor. Bones crack and twist, and he screams, the crowing cry of a bird of prey finally set loose. His eyes blaze a fiery red, talons cracking the floor as the massive bird that had once been a boy launches itself into the air with a single-minded determination, one that's more familiar to him than most other emotions. A roaring, single-minded anger screaming to kill.]

→ When He Nothing Shines Upon

G.
[Akechi is, perhaps surprisingly, at the "real" party, at Ren's request. Sullen and quiet, gone are the easy laughs and winks from the "last" party, replaced instead by an exhausted, dead-eyed stare.]

Forgive me for not being inclined to celebrate, [he mutters, allowing himself to cover his eyes with his hand and lean his elbow against the table, next to the steaming cup of strong, black coffee. He isn't wearing a costume, and he doesn't dare fall asleep.]

[Please feel free to hit me up @

jaderhade for plotting, or on my ooc plotting comment here!]

Edited 2021-10-18 23:31 (UTC)

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 1 of 53

Event - Lullaby

(frozen comment) QUESTIONS

Ren Amamiya | Persona5

Andrew Jaeger | Original Character | OTA

Eric Matthews | Boy Meets World

jack √ tales from the gas station

Thackery Binx | Hocus Pocus | OTA

emily dyer | identity v | ota

full moon

When The Nothing Shines Upon

sun, a.

first.

no subject

Ciel ☾ Tsukihime

When He Nothing Shines Upon Part A

no subject

when he nothing shines upon part b.

Bucky/Winter | MCU

Aelwyn Abernant | Fantasy High

stephen strange | mcu

no subject

‘TIL THE SUN IS IN THE SKY

not quite dormir-mu; it's a spanish pun

Malcolm Bright | Prodigal Son | OTA

til the sun is in the sky

Goro Akechi | Persona 5 | ota!