i. [reality check; asleep] now, my only goal is to see / and i'm always fast asleep

[This dream, as it begins, is not overwhelmingly terrifying. Honestly, it's quiet. Wherever you were, wandering between spaces, suddenly it's like the sound cuts out from some unseen force and you can almost hear the sound of your own heartbeat. It's fine. It's peaceful.

Pressing into it will lead you into the streets of a city- those who might recognize it think it looks like London, but nothing seems to be exactly in the right place if you know the structure. A fog permiates the road and sky, but it's able to be seen through enough to see the buildings before it clouds everything else out. The other issue, of course, is that there's simply no one else here- it seems like people have certainly been there, with the lights being on and the footsteps left on the street. But it's quiet. Even you don't seem to make much noise.

That is, until you hear it. If you step into a building- a shop, a restraunt, a library- you'll start to hear just bits of people. One or two words at first, but if you concentrate, a bit more. And they're all asking the same thing.

Help. Please, help me. Why is no one helping me?

The thing is- you can't see them. The more you look around the more you might here, but there's no one to bump into, no figure to find. On top of that, the more you explore, the more the fog seems to permiate everything- indoors, around corners, almost in your own head.

Eventually, it might choke you out. But if you're lucky and keep following the voices, you might find one man. Just one. Martin, hands in his pockets, all of his colors muted by the haze, looking up at a large building that seems almost entiely obscured.

You can talk to him, if you'd like to try. Hopefully he can hear you. But maybe no one can, anymore.]

ii. [reality check; awake] it takes more than strength to find / this peace of mind

[Hm! So guess who never wants to sleep again! If you guessed Martin and also probably everyone else, you're right, but gosh does Martin never want to sleep again. It's especially bad after learning what he knows now about Ava- why she's probably doing this, how it all must feel, how this will probably end- and it's just awful. He can't imagine anyone else is feeling very good about the whole thing either, and it's really making him want to turn inward. Give in. Give up.

But he knows he can't. So instead, he's prepared a fresh pot of tea, found some cookies, and is carrying a tray over to anyone who looks particularly unhappy or tired. Once he sets it down, he is not even asking if they want a cup, and starts pouring.]

Here. Looks like you could use the pick-me-up, hm?

iii. [knead help] he needs no army where he's headed 'cause he knows / that they're just ghosts

[As soon as he hears about the people stumbling out of the fog, about how you can't see and can't remember and people who died alone-- well, he knows what that is. He knows what it is all too vicerally thanks to the previous weeks, and it terrifies him. It's one thing to know you're dreaming, to be in control of a space, but to go back there willingly? To know it's around the corner and people are stepping in--

It takes him a little time to get it together, to convince himself. He leaves a note for Jon, telling him that if he doesn't see him by tonight, that's where he'll be. And he heads off with a torch in hand, to do this right this time. Break it his way.

So if you're wandering, lost among the gravestones, you may well hear a far-off voice or see a little speck of light somewhere among the clouds, and hear a voice calling out to you.]

Hey! Hey, if you can hear me-- tell me about your, your best friend. Or the person you love, okay? I want to hear about them.

iv. [wildcard] and they can't hurt him if he can't see them, oh

[Want something else with Martin not listed here? Hit me up at cancerously, PM me, or hit me in the Discord and we can make it happen.]