Pestilence: Horsemen of the Apocalypse Log #1 - 1st to 3rd of June

[slightlyoffchilt]

WHO: Pestilence AND YOU
WHERE: All around MoM's America and beyond
WHEN: 1st to 3rd of June
WHAT: Part One of the Horsemen Plot, this is the time for Pestilence to take hold. Pestilence will spread randomly, like an illness born by thought, as well as pass by direct proximity with the ring, held by Frederick Chilton, and those who become affected will swiftly fall into a death-like sleep. After that, characters will find themselves in a shared Dreamscape (see text of this post) populated by their own and other people's psyches, dreams and nightmares. Outside of this Dreamscape, others will try to wake them - but short of waiting for the illness to subside, there's really only one cure: sharing their true feelings about the affected person.
WARNINGS: Warning for everything here in advance, sex, violence, death, gruesome images, etc. If you have any specific warnings for your thread please add them to the comment headers.

When you do succumb to sleep, whether violently, immediately, or beneath the slower snowdrift duress of cognitive slurring, you will soon wakened to an onyx dark landscape. Bright, searing lights above will pinprick as you look upwards, even while the darkness disorientates you. This is the Dreamscape. Intuitively, some small part of you will know that you've been brought here because of a disease. Some part of you might ever vibrate with the whisper of Pestilence.

As you think within this atmosphere, your thoughts conceive manifestation -- the environment you witness swirls and shifts to your subconscious. You build your setting, and your setting may clash with other dreamers. This Dreamscape was born from the inclinations of Frederick Chilton, and the subconscious is its crowned king. That conceptional influence gives you a mountain of power, along with a corrosive fault line of responsibility. Every passing idea in your brain serves to flesh out the Dreamscape of Pestilence. It is highly likely that your darker fears and cruelties will find their opportunity to breathe, and they are just as "physical" in this astral plane as you are.

Because your environment is ultimately the subconscious creation of a pestilence Chilton, there are three stages that the Dreamscape can become -- though it's all according to your emotional and mental state. Morpheus is the mildest of the three. This level concerns the people in your life, and their cruelty or kindness you interpret. Phantasos is the middling range. The victim will suffer surrealistic fantasy dreams that are weird and absurd. This is the strangest of sleep, the unnerving nature of your mind. It can go dark, or funny, and the setting of a Phantasos level will involve woods, caverns, mountains, and other natural settings. And Phoebetor serves as the nightmare level. This is where catastrophe comes true. Everything you most dread, every little horrific whisper in the back of your mind, that's going to happen with a Phoebeter severity.

Sweet dreams.

Comments

[maglevflash]

[Gogo stopped walking, staring in the distance at the strange building and trying to take everything her eyes were seeing in.

She turns around to look the way she came, but the crowded street was nowhere to be found. The noise of conversation traded with the noise of the rain and the triangles and-

The roar of a small motor?]

[ursawhiner]

[Dipper is not so great at driving in the rain. Especially Oregon rain. He nearly doesn't see Gogo and does a sharp last minute turn to try and avoid her.]

No no nonononono!

[The golf cart tips over and now everything is mud.]

[maglevflash]

[She jumps out of the way in time to make sure she gets completely splattered in mud. Wiping her face, she cautiously makes her way over to the cart.]

...are you okay?

[She is prepared to dig them out if that mud puddle is deeper than it seems.]

[ursawhiner]

[A mudchild wearing a trucker hat slowly rises.]

We're fine! I'm so sorry!

[maglevflash]

I...I'm not hurt. It's fine.

[She wipes off the worst of the mud and flings it to the ground. A couple good washings and even her clothes will be good as new.]

[ursawhiner]

There's just so much mud! How do people live like this!

[maglevflash]

This is nothing compared to dirt biking, trust me.

[ursawhiner]

I've never really seen the appeal in that.

[maglevflash]

[She points at the muddied go cart.]

It's like that, with more precision.

[ursawhiner]

Most of the fun is the fact that I'm driving a golf cart.

[maglevflash]

Haven't you ever heard of a four wheeler?

[ursawhiner]

In theory?

[maglevflash]

If only I had the supplies. I could build you one. It's theoretically similar to a golf cart, but made for dirt trails and better steering. Faster, too.

[glitterateur]

This is why we need an off-road golf cart! And goggles. [Another mudchild rises from the not-so-wreackage as Mabel does her best to clean the mud off of her sweater using her kitten fists. It's... not easy. Or successful.]

--are you okay? I hope we didn't hit you or anything!

[maglevflash]

[Kitten...fists.

Whelp, that settles it. She's definitely dreaming.]

No, you're fine. Impressive crash though. [She would know.]

You play out here and you don't have better wheels?

[glitterateur]

Ha, thanks! [That was a way better crash than the ones Dipper and Soos usually manage. The kittens preen a little.]

Oh-- no? Grunkle Stan has a car and I've got a bicycle but the golf cart's never been unreliable! We've outrun a ton of stuff in this thing.

[maglevflash]

Sturdy golf cart. [She concedes, stepping over to pat it approvingly.]

...what in the world are you outrunning? [She takes a look around. Things looked...strange, but not particularly dangerous?]

[glitterateur]

It's high quality engineering! Soos is a genius.

[Mabel shrugs, not terribly concerned.]

Uhh... maybe gnomes? We've had to outrun gnomes before, and I think I saw some in the bushes behind us. [She thinks.] I can say it's definitely not a giant robot this time.

[maglevflash]

[Well, anything can happen in a dream, she supposes. Why not gnomes and giant robots?]

Did something malfunction today? I mean, besides avoiding me of course. I'm no 'Soos', but I can probably fix it for you.

[She glances back the way they had come, peering a little closer at the bushes in case the so called gnomes decide to show themselves.]

[glitterateur]

It rained way more than normal! And since we don't have a windshield, well... [She gestures to the upturned cart and the mud. Mabel's too focused on explaining the cart difficulties to notice the little red cone hats sticking up out of the grass.]

Now the motor's probably... something? I bet we broke something.

[maglevflash]

Here, let me...take a look. [She frowns at the grass, squinting for a moment. Surely she was seeing things?

Of course she was seeing things.

She shook her head, although she kept glancing back that way every few moments, and made sure the Golf cart was upright so she could take a look at its engine.]

This isn't so different from the tech where I'm from. It should only take me a few minutes to figure out the problem. Try starting it up for me.

[glitterateur]

Where are you from? [She says, climbing into the driver's seat. The kitten fists are an issue for a second before Mabel shrugs and turns them back into actual hands so she can turn the key.]

Are you a handyman too? 'Cause you seem really knowledgeable!

[maglevflash]

I'm from San Fransokyo. I can't say I'm as great as a handyman, but I am an engineer.

[She listens to the engine for a moment, watching the machine.]

Cool, I think I can see what's wrong.

[glitterateur]

San Fransokyo... that sounds really familiar. [She wracks her dream brain. Come on, memories, get it together.] Oh! Oh, I know someone from there. Maybe a couple of someones?

[Mabel leans over the wheel to watch the repair process happen, clearly impressed.]

And engineer, really? That's so cool.

[maglevflash]

Mm. My friends are from there, too.

[In real life this probably would have happened way more accurately, but in a dream, fixing an engine is no problem at all. She might have to smack it with a wrench to get it to stop making that strange whining sound, but in due time it's running good as new!]