maskormenacelogs | (open dreamshare log) (muffled twilight zone playing in the distance)

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(open dreamshare log) (muffled twilight zone playing in the distance)

WHO: EVERYBOOOODYYYY (yeaaah) (rock your booodyyy) (yeaaah)
WHERE: DREAMSPACE
WHEN: The night of November 1st (slightly forward-dated to give people more time to play out threads mmk)
WHAT: DREAM SHENANIGANS (event info here!)
WARNINGS: None up here, but players please tag the subject lines of your dreams if they have NSFW or triggering content in them.

It's Saturday evening. What are you dreaming about, imPorts?

Some of you might find strangers intruding on your regular dreams. Others might find themselves suddenly in the dream of someone they've never met before. Or perhaps someone they're close to...? Either way. Seems like you're in for a bumpy night.

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"Maybe," he admitted, although he kept walking. The injury, while bad, didn't seem to be slowing him down. If anything, it pushed him forward -- like a lot of his wounds -- it was superficial, but underneath was the poison that was hidden by the facade. A man who was a lot more of a monster than he led people to believe.

But he did what he had to do, and that was it. He had to be something, to save the world -- at least from this. He grimaced, and shielded his eyes.

"I don't know about you but some shade would --" he stopped, when a cry took overhead. Something that sounded bestial, but not at the same time. Like a beast that had been corrupted like so many of the other figures they'd already seen.

"What the fuck is that?" Isaac followed suit, shifting his gaze upward to try to glimpse what was making that god-awful sound, but the glaring halo of the sun prevented and discernible outline of the creature from developing.

"We should take cover quick. I don't play well with things that try to make dinner out of me." Especially when it was a death-from-above scenario.

"Me neither," he murmured, but Mitchell didn't think it would eat him. Maybe take him prisoner, but it wouldn't kill him. Hurt him a little, but they thought that would make him weak -- wear down on him until he gave in. Push and push and push and look to see if there were any cracks in the facade. So far, Mitchell was like iron, but how long could a man last, years upon years of the same messages in his head whenever he closed his eyes?

This was why he didn't sleep, of course. He grimaced, and kept walking. "Come on, we'll take cover as soon as we get in there," he mentioned, while he pointed. "Hopefully, there won't be anything there," although, he knew, there was a fat chance of that bullshit happening. He was stuck here, and it looked like Isaac was too. Just great.

Isaac nodded and followed after him, keeping his plasma cutter at the ready in case anything decided to try to make good on the threat. He didn't know if the cutter would do anything to, well, anything wandering around this godforsaken landscape, but it felt better having a weapon drawn.

"You ever seen anything like this before?"

"No," he lied, plainly. Mitchell always had been a liar. Down at his dark core, and it wasn't because he wanted to deceive, but instead because it was the only way to survive in his environment. In the kind of practical recognition that knew he couldn't be taken seriously if he was taken at face value. Nobody would trust the man who was supposed to bring an army down on an entire reality.

They would trust a liar, however.

He trudged on. "We need to keep moving, before --" he ducked, when a shadow loomed, covering the plain where they were walking, another screeching cry. "Come on!" he started to run.

Isaac took off after him, not completely trusting Mitchell's word of denial. If he really hadn't seen anything like this before, a guy like him, very similar to a guy like Isaac himself, wouldn't be this cool about it all. Sure, he was freaked out, there were fucking monsters looking to eat them, but he didn't seem confused by the surroundings, which suggested he wasn't being honest.

Still, it wasn't as though he'd told Mitchell everything about his role in his universe going to hell. Maybe that stuff was better left unsaid anyway. At least when there were man-eating condors flying overhead.

"Where the hell are we supposed to hide, anyway?"

"I don't know, I --" he paused, scanning the distance, picking out a shadow.

"That way, I think. There's something over there, and maybe we won't get eaten before we get there!"

He didn't run, but he did job, trying to cover as much ground as possible, without alerting anyone in the distance. While the birds screeched overhead, none of them swooped down -- yet. They wouldn't, as long as Mitchell kept going in the direction he was supposed to, after all. When they finally came at the end, it was stairs, leading down to an ice-rink. Rockefeller Center, from all appearances, and he breathed, and looked.

He stopped at the entrance, and didn't step in.

"Shit!"

The problem with his suit was it was heavy. It wasn't designed for extensive work on a planet's surface. He was used to the weight, of course. It was comfortable, easy to work with. He liked it. In a weird way, it made him feel whole, being fully suited like that.

Unfortunately, running full tilt in the suit without gravity plates and mag boots to secure you in place meant coming to a stop was easier said that done. He slid to a stop behind Mitch, thankfully before he barreled the man over.

"What? What is it, man?"

Mitchell looked over at him with concern, like he couldn't believe he had such a hard time stopping, before he pointed. It wasn't much, it was just...junk, but in the different hovels and growths there were plants starting to grow, long vines and trees. They didn't drip with dew, but with blood, and a few animals were gathered in the center.

They were gathered on a skeleton, bleached from the too-powerful sun, but splotches of blood stained the joints and bones. There was no doubt about it, the skeleton was long-dead, but Mitchell looked at it warily, maybe because of the dark cloak wrapped around it's shoulders and head.

"It's...the animals, I'm -- Well, it might be a good idea for you to go first," lest he found himself dead, and ripped to shreds.

Isaac nodded. Killing things before they killed him was a talent he'd learned he had a few years ago when it was all that stood between an alien force trying to destroy all human life and humanity. They were going to be fast once he pulled the trigger, he could tell, so instead of playing it stupid and just unloading, he raised a hand, releasing a burst of energy at the gathered animals, enveloping them in form-fitted pockets of slow time and giving them the appearance of moving in slow motion.

He let his modified mining tool do the rest after that, making quick work of the slow-moving carrion feeders. When everything stopped moving, he lowered his plasma cutter but didn't out it away, and didn't look away from any potential threats as he called back to Mitch.

"You mind telling me what all this shit is, Hundreds? I know you know more than you're saying."

"Uh," Mitch wasn't really sure what he was expecting. Honestly, he'd thought maybe Isaac could distract them long enough for him to sneak by, not kill them, but he'd stood by and let Isaac kill them, all the same. His mouth was shut, but his eyes disapproved, even while he watched, before he finally started to step forward, to look at them -- the carcasses, and then back to Isaac.

"This shit?" he let an arm gesture, out. "No fucking clue. I'm just as in the dark as you are," he kicked at the bones, a gentle nudge of his foot. "This shit? Looks like my old nemesis -- he was like an evil Dr. Doolittle," he explained.

Well, Pherson was.

They'd been gnawing on human bones, and something in Isaac wouldn't let them be next. He'd reacted on gut instinct, but now that he looked at them, a pang of guilt swept through him. Maybe he'd overreacted.

"So, these were his pets and they turned on him?"

"He'd have probably sicced them on you for calling them pets. Think eco-terrorist who can send them after you, he wanted to live as "one with the animals"," the airquotes said clearly, of course, what Mitchell thought of that. He shook his head, and nudged it again, before turning.

"Guess they didn't want to be one with him, huh?"

"Or maybe the did. There's not much left of him." Which was gross to think about, but animals were animals after all. "It's better this way. Now we don't have to worry about them hunting us later."

"Maybe," he mentioned, agreeing that it was definitely a possibility. The dogs had eaten him, after all. They'd turned on him, before the vet's office exploded. He'd assumed they wouldn't eat him, either way, just kill him, but maybe it would have been a bit more poetic than that.

Disgusting, either way. "Yeah, let's --" he ground started to rumble underneath them, and Mitchell had to fight to stay up, although he wavered back and forth, looking to find something to hold onto. "Shit, Isaac, hang on!"

The crumbling remains of the building didn't seem like a good place to hold on to, but their selection was slim to none and they didn't have time for reactions. Isaac grabbed a support beam in one hand and took hold of Mitch's arm with the other.

"What the fuck is this?"

"I don't fucking know!" he gasped, before he crouched, trying to find something to hold onto, but finding absolutely nothing. The rumble kept going, before something loud, and sharp -- not a shot, but similar in its quickness -- rang out over the landscape, coming from the east. Mitchell almost wanted to shiver at it, the idea, but he didn't. Instead, he clung, until the rumble subsided, and he could look up again, and then back to Isaac.

"What do you wanna bet that...sound had something to do with it. It was...that way."

Worry spread across Isaac's face as he looked toward the east. Those sorts of sounds were never good and this time couldn't be any sort of exception. Still, it might have been important, including a way out of this place. He swallowed, his tone anxious.

"Maybe we should check it out?"

"I don't..." Mitch paused, and looked over the path again, before he finally nodded. "Maybe that's a good idea. Sometimes changes in the scenery are the only way to go."

He looked around, before he finally noticed -- or maybe they hadn't been there before? -- the signs, a stairway, and then a bridge. He pointed, and then started to walk in the direction, hoping that Isaac would pick up on that, and follow him. "Looks like we can go this way."

"That's...normal." Isaac was certain the path hadn't been there before, and he got a foreboding feeling from the situation. Of course, it was just as possible he was just really freaked out by the entire situation and was reflecting any actual sinister vibes. His gut had proven nothing but paranoid in the past and it wasn't exactly trustworthy. "Was, uh, that there before?"

"No," he admitted, and shook his head. "But what the hell, if it's a way to go, we'd better take it, right??

Mitchell didn't know if it was good or bad, he could never tell with his damn dreams, they were always a mess -- complicated and confusing. "Let's go," he waved him on, and stepped forward, looking down the pathway, strewn with screens and machines, and the screens flickered, somewhere between four colors -- red, green, white and violet. A constant flicker.

Isaac hadn't had the best experience with taking pathways that suddenly opened, but like Mitch had said, that didn't stop it from needing to happen. Where else were they supposed to go?

"You really have no idea what's going on here?" He was the guy in the armor, of course he was, so he took the lead cautiously.

"Not a fucking clue," he said simply. He almost rolled his eyes, that he kept asking. It wasn't that Mitchell didn't, but that knowing didn't help in the slightest. The sort of knowledge that didn't help, because it wasn't any knowledge at all.

His feet moved, but other than the flicker, there wasn't much, although it started to take shape on the pathway, sometimes the flashes weren't simply screens, but instead symbols. Somewhere in between kanji, hebrew, and something else. Really, it looked like nonsense, or someone who was trying to pretend that they were writing a language, and couldn't decide which one they were writing.

The symbols that flashed into a path for them to follow didn't mean anything to Isaac, which was a huge relief. If they had, he'd have insisted they take any path that wasn't this one. The symbols trapped in his brain didn't spell out any correct answer, and following them would only lead to death.

Still, just because he didn't recognize them didn't mean they didn't make any sense to someone else.

"Mitch...do these symbols mean anything to you?"

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(open dreamshare log) (muffled twilight zone playing in the distance)

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