[semi-open] dreamgirl

[radioclub_jp]

WHO: Paprika + open to first 5 responders
WHERE: in the land of sleepy dreams
WHEN: late April / early May
WHAT: Paprika finally stops behaving, starts invading people's dreams. Nbd, right?
WARNINGS: none known

Ever since she'd been Ported in, Paprika hadn't had the slightest trouble falling or staying asleep. Maybe it was part of this expanded ability she'd acquired, or maybe it was a product of being here "by herself"... no to-do lists running through her head, no stray thoughts about office politics. The first night she'd thought excitement might keep her awake, but it didn't. The second night she'd thought apprehension might, but it didn't. The third night it was dread.

Dread! Imagine that, the dream detective, dreading going to sleep! But it wasn't for no reason, of course.

She'd lay her head on the pillow and close her eyes, but when she opened them she saw nothing. Even once she entered REM sleep, nothing. She was still lucid, she'd realized the first night, but not dreaming. It would have been a different story if she were simply dreaming about nothing; in that case she'd have been able to shape the dream herself. But she wasn't having a dream. It was as if her unconscious mind had been shunted off to a holding area and forgotten about for seven to eight hours, like an unclaimed bag at the airport. She knew her body needed the sleep, and so here she was, but there was nothing to do.

Or... no, not nothing, exactly. When she held still and quieted her mind, she would catch snippets of vivid color, far-off voices, faint smells... Even without looking too closely, she knew they were other people's dreams. Accessible without a DC Mini, floating there within reach, daring her to look, to touch, to open. Worlds of infinite scope and possibility. Therein lay the true power of dreams.

"It's too dangerous," she said aloud to no one, in the dark. "You know what happened last time." Her own voice sounded like Atsuko's.

Of course she knew. She couldn't forget something like that incident, still (as far as she knew) unresolved. Only a monster would want to see reruns of that. She didn't yet know if this power she had was safe to use. But how was she supposed to find that out if she never tried? Besides, she'd been wondering... what sort of dreams would someone from another world have, anyway?

In the end, it was too much. She couldn't resist after all.

The dreams drew into sharp focus as she approached, as if she were tightening the aperture on a camera lens. There were so many of them, she hardly knew where to start. But that was easy enough to resolve. Paprika closed her eyes and raised her pointer finger.

"Eeny, meeny, miney... mo!"

She opened one eye to peek, then both. Well, that looked interesting... "Yeah, that'll do," she said, and pulling the edges of the hole apart, she slipped through into the dream.

(NOTE: I plan to do the open dream logs on a regular basis, so don't worry too much if the slots are taken - I'm just limiting it to five people for starters so as not to overwhelm myself. Please fill out permissions here!)

Comments

[helpline]

The Doctor rarely sleeps. Tonight is an exception.

He's in a large room, boxy control panel with various switches and buttons, stairs leading downwards. But at the same time, it's a simple white room, more streamlined control panel, white roundels on the wall. But at the same time, the center is rounded, the walls are brown, and organic-like structures hold the ceiling up. Only in dreams can the interior of his TARDIS flit from shade to shade, from one setting to the next. It's mostly the bluish boxy interior, but every now and then interior shifts to a different interior.

Likewise, the Doctor is different. He's mostly the man that Paprika might have seen over the network, all Scottish and old and grumpy and eyebrows. But every now and then, there's a flash of a prior regeneration. Spot the Doctor out of the corner of your eye, and there'll be something different. He'll be younger and blonde, an Edwardian gentleman with wonderful hair, eyebrowless while wearing a bow tie. Once you focus on him, it's the current regeneration, but hints of the past bleed through from time to time.

He's dreaming of things that he knows won't happen again.

Flipping a few switches on the console, the Doctor talks as he does so, all excitability and pep. "So, Clara, onwards to Manussa! Lovely planet, haven't been there in ages, last time I had to deal with a giant snake—" he turns around, grin on his face, expecting to see Clara...but hello there, Paprika. That's different. That's unexpected. He adores unexpected. But that's also not Clara. He's expecting Clara, what gives, you're not Clara!

"Clara, if you managed to swap faces on me, I'll be very cross." You know, because that's something humans can do on a regular basis.

[radioclub_jp]

Paprika's off to a good start here - this looks like something straight out of a sci-fi movie! But she doesn't recognize the man at the console, at least not at first. His appearance seems to change every time she glances around the room, but then the room seems to change when she looks directly at him. The whole environment is in flux. Now why could that be?

When he turns to her, though, then she's able to place him. He was at the convention; she'd sat in on both of his panels, blending in with the crowd and pretending to be a normal person. The Doctor, just "the Doctor," he was very insistent about that. Swap faces, though? Paprika glances down at herself, surprised to find she looks like - well, herself. Ah. That's a pretty big slip-up, right there, she'll have to be more careful.

But it's pretty common, in dreams, to mistake one person for another. She'll just roll with it.

"Oh, sorry, Doctor," she says, sounding sheepish. "Should I change it back?" She has no idea who Clara is, of course, but if his expectation's strong enough, it should be able to shape her appearance.

[helpline]

His expectation is strong. He's picturing a brunette girl, shorter than him, a 21st century schoolteacher who's simultaneously a governess in Victorian England and a human-turned-Dalek in the far future. Two brief echoes of Clara but not his Clara. His Clara's fierce and spunky and also technically a bit immortal, whoops.

"Of course you should change it back! I'm the only one who's allowed to go changing faces around here—Time Lord perks!" He's grumpy at Paprika, though there's a soft shade of care underneath. That grumpiness can't hide his sheer affection for Clara, or the girl that he thinks is Clara.

"Now then, Manussa! It's a melting plot planet, a big city based on tourism and agriculture, and former home to a great big snake. Shall we?" He places a hand on one of the levers, looking up at "Clara," just so excited by the sheer prospect of travel.

[radioclub_jp]

There we go. She changes in between blinks, though she doesn't know what it is she's changed to look like until she catches the ghost of her reflection in the central column. Wow, this Clara is tiny, huh? Anyway, with that out of the way - this is shaping up to be fun! It's not like she's actively out to impersonate the Doctor's friend or anything, it's just a harmless little role-playing adventure as far as she's concerned. His excitement is infectious, and she returns his grin enthusiastically. "Let her rip!" she exclaims. Her voice and accent still aren't Clara's, but the illusion's probably close enough for dream logic.

[helpline]

Close enough for dream logic it is! She looks like Clara, he expects her to be Clara, ergo she is Clara. The Doctor gives "Clara" a wide grin as he pulls down the lever. The steering column in the middle of the console rises and falls as the entire room makes a sort of whirring noise—the noise of the dematerialization circuits as the TARDIS lands on the planet.

The Doctor's got a grin on his face fit to burst as he runs over to the TARDIS doors, pausing for a moment before he turns back to Clara. "You wanted a big fun party planet, you've got the big fun party planet. Cliff notes! Big party to celebrate the banishing of the Mara, that's a big snake monster. A hundred years from now the Mara's going to cause more trouble, but I've already stopped that, so don't worry about it and don't bring it up." The brief flashes of a different Doctor settle on one particular incarnation: a young, blonde man wearing a cricketers outfit. Completely oblivious, the Doctor gives Paprika one last look, hands still on the door handle.

"Ready?"

[irassible]

It was a very beautiful day.

It was also a very stormy night.

The sprawling, abandoned hills of the Dravanian Hinterlands was split neatly in twain, the rainy majority coming to an abrupt stop at the start of the road up to the only inhabited settlement. Only the swollen, churning banks of the Thaliak River crossed the boundary without changing, eventually spilling out in frothing waterfalls that rushed down the broken cliffs to the valley below. The creatures that peppered the landscape did not seem to notice or care that the weather was so abnormal; massive insects, each one bigger than a man, zipped across sunny and sodden grasses, roosting in the trees or hovering close against the rocks. A few resembled dragonflies, colored bright green and red; most were giant wasps with heavy stingers and glittering eyes. On the higher cliffs, where the foliage grew thick between white, crumbling buildings built of marble and gilded with electrum and gold, there were fat, crawling yellow worms with black markings, aggressive and numerous enough to attack the wasps when they came too close.

Despite the excessive amount of dangerous fauna, Six didn't appeared to be concerned about his own safety. He was on the sunnier side of the vista, out in the open and close to the drop-off, dressed differently than what had come to be his customary garb in the waking world. There was no chocobo companion with him and in fact, no companions at all, though he was, as always, armed.

There was a dark red stain on his coat, not far below his left arm, but it was small, and easy to miss.

[radioclub_jp]

Well hello there. Does this mean all along, that tough guy exterior was hiding a classy-looking glasses character inside? Paprika was okay with this development.

Though she doubted the weather pattern is accurate, she got the feeling that what she saw here was Six's homeworld. Eorzea, wasn't it? And it was jaw-droppingly gorgeous, especially the bits in the sunlight. She styled herself to fit in a little better - the girl who happened to be standing nearby just now, as if she'd been there all along, was a Miqo'te as well, and wearing something not unlike the default outfit because of reasons. She still had Paprika's face and hair, though.

"What a view," she said, following his gaze over the cliff. "Is this where you live?"

[irassible]

"......"

Everything was normal.

"... ..... ...?"

Everything was normal, and nothing was strange.

".... .. .. ....."

Nothing was strange about him when he turned to speak with her without making a sound. His mouth was moving like it was supposed to; he looked a little surprised and a little annoyed by the interruption, just like he would have at any other time, and after a brief, unsociable scowl, he kept on like he would have if not for his steady silence.

"....? ..... ..."

His silence brought attention to another abnormality in the landscape: the sunward side was just as quiet as he was. The roar of the rain and the steady thunder behind them might have appeared to just overpower the noise of the breeze and the birds, but that wasn't the case at all. The sunny landscape might as well have been a painting, for all that it moved and breathed.

[radioclub_jp]

"What?"

That didn't take long to get odd. Six's mouth kept moving, but soundlessly, like the frozen sunny landscape behind him. "What are you saying? I can't hear you," Paprika said, cupping a hand behind where her human ear would be if she had human ears at the moment.

[irassible]

Six tilted his head, stopping mid-conversation to look as confused as she sound. He lifted a hand and rubbed at his throat, and tried again:

".... ... .......?"

Only for the same problem to present itself. After a pause and a scowl, he pointed at her head; couldn't it be something wrong with her? Because from his perspective, nothing was wrong and nothing had changed, so it couldn't have been his fault. He could hear everything he was saying.

While this was going on, the rainy scene started to inch up, little by little, coming down harder and thicker than it had to begin with.

[viced]

"YOU CAN'T STOP US --"

The voice was the first thing she heard -- and looking around, whatever was trying to be stopped, it was already mostly happening. The sky was electric yellow -- lightning shocked through it, arced over clouds and hit the ground. Large clumps of grass and concrete exploded with each hit, the landscape not a freshly or currently destroyed world -- but one long conquered.

It wasn't De Chima, Heropa, or really anywhere in this pseudo-modern world. Instead, above, the moon was defaced with large swaths of destruction, a phallus on the surface, half the City -- and it was his City -- was already destroyed. And the worst of it was, the voice that rang came from the top of the tallest standing building, a skittering sound followed.

Then a boom.

And another boom.

Something that rang through the sound-tunnel that was metropolitan New York, a close approximation of it. A sound out there, like skittering beasts -- hornets and rats -- something horrifying, even as the subject -- a man who was too focused on this to deal with someone in his dream started to step back, multiple steps at a time, before turning and running -- still dressed in a suit, instead of anything practical.

He looked older, than he did in the media on De Chima, and around the world at large. His face was well-known enough, but the wonders that a curl of hair did were astounding, and he turned after a moment, pulling a vivid green gun out from his coat, before he attempted to shoot what ended up being -- well -- they could have been pigeons, but their wings were metal, eyes bright purple, beaks sharpened with metal tips -- he hit one with a blast of green electricity, before it fell.

"Aw, aw fuck --"

[radioclub_jp]

Paprika had only peripherally considered the possiblity of ending up inside a nightmare, so finding herself here was a bit of a shock. This was clearly an apocalypse, but she noted it wasn't one of the world they were in currently - the smoldering husks of cars showed evidence of wheels, for one thing. The penis on the moon seemed a bit out of place, but she filed it away to worry about later. (That was one thing she was certain wasn't literal. What did that say about this guy's subconscious~?)

The city was overrun with a swarm of something. Machines disguised as ordinary animals, it looked like. You can't stop us. But he could, apparently. He had a weapon, and it looked strikingly effective against them. Whatever threat this dream represented, he wasn't totally defenseless against it, and he knew it. So why was he still afraid?

Here was an alleyway, tucked between two buildings leaning each other. Paprika wasn't there, and then she was. She had herself dressed in camo with a camo helmet - this seemed like a situation where there might reasonably be soldiers around. Just as Mitch was about to reach the alley, she poked her head out, waving an arm to beckon him. "Over here! Quick!"

[viced]

"Wh --"

Mitchell stopped, dumbfounded by the sight of someone in the apocalyptic wasteland that was the City. He looked around, before he shot off a few more gun blasts at the pigeons, which forced the rest of the flock to veer off, before he dashed after her. Because if someone else was here, there were a few things he had to keep in mind.

First off, he needed to avoid the source of all of this. Secondly, he'd need to keep them safe, too. No easy task, considering...

Well, these dreams were violent enough as it was. "Who -- " he gasped, when he stopped, hands on his knees, before he doubled over to gasp more air, even if it felt more like he breathed sludge, from the pollution and smoke. "-- the fuck are you?" he asked, through pulls of air, before he finally looked up at her, and wiped the sweat from his face, dark hair plastered to his forehead.

"This isn't a place for you."

[radioclub_jp]

"No? Then let's get outta here," the "soldier" replied cheerfully, casually leaving his question unaddressed. "This place sucks." Not waiting for him to fully catch his breath, she leaned in and took him by the elbow, trying to pull him down the alley.

[viced]

"No shit," he gasped, and looked around, before she started to drag him down the alleyway.

Which, considering Mitchell Hundred's health? He's winded as soon as they begin, and he looked around, being drug around was probably not on the plan for his brain -- or his benefactors -- tonight. He grimaced as he did so, when an explosion ripped close by, the building on their right shuddered.

"Fuck -- Careful! Where are we going?"

[resipiscent]

It's silent.

Riku doesn't know how long he's been sleeping, only that it feels like eons, and that it's dead quiet. He's watching himself walking through halls that remind him of Castle Oblivion, all ivory and white marble. He's the darkest thing there.

Abruptly he comes to a stop -- his eye level is different. He didn't stop on his own -- his feet just slowed by themselves. Such is the way of his dreams.

'Ansem', as he'd called himself, for those months, was a few inches taller again than Riku. He's just a little over six feet tall as it is -- it was almost an unsettling sort of height, out of the average. Now, with his perspective lifted, he knows he's back to that once more, at least in the sleeping world. Without physically feeling it, but with a phantom sensation all the same, he knows the difference in his own skin tone and this, the way his hair falls compared to this form's. His clothes had been a black coat and boots before he was aware he'd changed -- they stay more or less the same now.

One would assume, generally, that someone with such a massive sleep debt as himself would be unable to dream for sleeping so hard. But his sleep is never deep enough to forget the dreams -- just deep enough to have them at all. He dreams of this particular memory fairly often -- not always in Castle Oblivion, not always in Hollow Bastion or Twilight Town or the Dark City. Always, though, he's alone, and always he is aware that he's dreaming.

Right now -- he's not alone. Which already sets this dream apart from the thousands of others he's had over the last year, two years -- he forgets how long it's been in the real world, to be honest. Riku is still not moving, and he's able to focus on the person in the hall beyond him. Not someone he knows -- not someone who matches this particular location, either. He might not have noticed her if the dream were in Twilight Town -- but in the Castle, blindingly white, she stands out heavily.

"You're not supposed to be here," is what he wants to say, but nothing comes out of his mouth. He's glad, he supposes -- he knows what his voice would sound like if he did. Any reprieve from that is welcome. Instead he just... focuses on her.

[radioclub_jp]

It's silent. Oppressively so.

Paprika realizes at once that she sticks out like a sore thumb in here, bright red against a stark white backdrop. This has happened once before - accidentally showing up as herself from the start - but last time she was able to blend in. Here, there's nothing to blend in with.

The dreamer spots her immediately. It's no one she knows. A tall, dark-skinned man with long grey hair - not grey with age, though, he's still quite young - dressed all in black. He stands out here as well, a lone shadow in a brightly lit room. And he's noticed her. He's staring at her.

He knows she's an intruder.

Though they start at opposite ends of a long hallway, neither of them has to move. Their mutual focus shortens the distance between them on its own, like a camera executing a dolly zoom, and before she knows it, she's right in front of him, barely an arm's length away. That startles her, and she takes an involuntary step back; the light footstep echoes in the cavernous hall.

Something's wrong here. This dream isn't under her full control.

[resipiscent]

Riku doesn't move, but then she's in front of him, without either of them budging. He'd have jumped if he had any control over himself at all -- instead his eyes just open a little wider, moving to try and take in her entire existence all at once. He's looking for an answer: why is she here? Who is she? Why is he dreaming about someone he doesn't know? It doesn't make sense. Not that a dream should make sense, but he can't help but need answers.

She's startled too, he realizes. His dream-self cannot move any further with her there, though, so they're relegated to staring at each other, his yellow eyes locked on her dark ones. After a moment he feels something in him change, just slightly -- his mouth peels open just as he realizes he can even do that. His dream has allowed him to speak, at least.

"How did... you get here?"

It's not what he wanted to ask. Not that he's aware of what he'd meant to ask in the first place. Who knows.

[radioclub_jp]

Paprika backs up another step, and her face becomes like a mask, coy and unrevealing. Pretend you meant to do this. He doesn't seem to have realized what's up, not quite.

"The window was open," she says. And it's not exactly a lie, just the window wasn't exactly literal.

[resipiscent]

"The window... to a dream?"

She's not a part of his dreams. She's never been there before -- what would make her appear now? If anything, saying this is just making things even more confusing for him.

He sighs, and then his body shifts forward, moving to walk past her. "I've never seen you here before. I... don't see things that aren't part of this already." He has never seen these dreams deviate from things he already knows.

lmk if this is okay! cw for surreal graphicish horror imagery

[iamtetsuo]

In his dreams, he's always dying. Sometimes it's right away. But sometimes, his mind's not so merciful, and it plays on and on in an endless loop of danger...

Birds sing through distorted sound, an eerie trill drifting in and out with the wind, ruffling leaves and shifting the shadows into a phantom river around him. Tetsuo tries to take a step back, only to find the leaves whisper when his foot crunches them, laughing carelessly. All around him, trees stretch up and up and up, forming a never ending looming forest. They sway and shift, becoming nebulous dark shapes looming over him. Skyscraper trees twist and creak in that phantom wind, small lights at the top casting an eerie glow amongst the ceaseless canopy before darkness envelops it.

He takes another step back, neck craned to try to peer into that infinite arboreal horror when that laugh sounds again behind him. Whirling around frantically, he grits his teeth, trying to see.

Above him, the bark of the trees peels away into bones, stretching and twisting together into a grisly, pulsing canopy. Behind him again, that same laugh - it's clearer now, youthful. Male.

British.

"Get AWAY!" Tetsuo screams into nowhere. No matter where he turns, he can't seem to get his eyes on his target. Somewhere out there, Pan's lurking, melting seamlessly into the dead trees and trailing green where only death waits. Somewhere in here, Tetsuo snarls, gathering his focus and bending his mind to.. stand there. Nothing happens. He doesn't shoot into the air, he doesn't manage to take down anything when in a whole new panic, he whirls around again, trying to cut through the air with a slash of his arm to aim the blow in his mind.

Not even a leaf twitches out of place.

He tries again, and freezes completely, unable to move as his enemy draws near. Above him, the forest pulses with an increasingly erratic rhythm, matching the panic rising in his throat.

Right behind him now, that high, gleeful whisper brushes against his ear, and the canopy shudders.

"Look up," taunts the faceless voice. "Do you know what that is?"

He tries to answer, tries to move at all, but he's rooted back into place as the trees curve and sharpen around him, locking him into a cage that would be white if it wasn't lost in shadow. The ground beneath him gives way, and all he can do is stare up into a menacing light, far away, growing brighter and brighter. It's a race - to fall forever, or let that hellish light catch him...

All he can do is scream.

sorry for the lateness! /shakes fist at finals

[radioclub_jp]

Paprika watches the nightmare unfold from above, taking on the form of a bird. It's a dark environment this guy's made for himself. A wicked, writhing forest of bone, a sinister voice - someone specific, definitely. Someone he knows. He's being hunted, he's paralyzed, he can't defend himself... The cage and falling into a bright white nothing is a little déjà-vu-ish, but she seriously doubts this would have anything to do with Detective Konakawa, worlds away.

Dreams of falling are common, and she expects it to wake him up, but it doesn't. He just keeps falling forever, screaming forever, the blinding light descending inexorably to meet him...

Poor kid, he's so scared. And she can help, but... he's not a patient or anything. Should she really do something so drastic? ... Well, "should" or not ...

A distinct sound echoes through the void - a single snap of the fingers, sending ripples through the infinite whiteness. Tetsuo's screams become muffled; his descent slows; the light dims. There's ground below him again, but he'll be able to land gently on his feet. It's a sea of grass, all vibrant, living green, as far as the eye can see. Some distance away, atop a low hill, stands a single cherry tree in full bloom. The terrible light stills, contracts, and becomes the sun.

A red bird flits past his ear, heading for the tree. From behind the trunk, a thin arm reaches out, and allows the bird to land on its finger. There's someone back there, but who? Was she there a moment ago? To Tetsuo, it'll probably "feel" like she's much closer than she appears. You don't get much closer than "inside their subconscious mind."

[iamtetsuo]

He couldn't say how long he was falling, or how far. Away from that light - it was meant to take you away, a dim echo pings through his mind like ripples in a pond, bouncing off and redefining everything to be more surreal, more strange, more distantly menacing...

But it's followed by a second, answering ripple. One that chases away the undefined horror, smoothing it out somehow. His fall slows, with the same gentle drifting sensation that his own power grants him.. but it's not him doing it.

Dimly, he's aware he's fallen completely silent, curiosity slowly winding around his terror. He risks a look down again... and instead of swallowing blackness there's serenity below him. Soft ground, gentle grass... like nothing he's ever seen before. His feet touch down to it, lowering him softly down into an endless meadow.

He whirls around, but there's no nightmare lurking just behind him. Above? Only sky, nothing from before; the bright light is nothing but the sun, making him wince and look away when his eyes stray too close. Pan's presence, that forest, the heartbeat wound into a pulsing light.. no matter where he looks, it's all gone!

"What the?!" He pauses, then adds another, softer question to himself, as if he'd know the answer. "...Where am I?"

Thomas had somewhere like this, in the depths of that hellish labyrinth. Where it's all calm and still, with grass and tame green... but here, there's no walls around this garden, keeping the horror at bay. This is endless, and open, and not full of mechanical nightmares just underneath the green waiting to be remembered.

Just before confusion fully overtakes him, a splash of red dances into view, almost clipping his ear with how close it came. His eyes follow it as it banks and flutters its way over to a distant tree he hadn't quite noticed yet, full of gentle, cloudlike flowers he instantly recognizes despite never having gotten to see in real life. Sakura!

There it is again, he realizes with a pang of panic. That all-encompassing feeling of not being alone. But the panic is short lived; this isn't something behind him, or trying to stay too hidden; he doesn't get that feeling of cold malice here. It's definitely not Thomas, either; he knows that mind way too well. And Thomas is long gone...

...

Grass crushes gently under his feet as he moves closer, head tilted to one side.

[radioclub_jp]

As he approaches, the person sitting against the tree trunk comes into view. It's a woman, older than him by some indistinct amount, with auburn hair and freckles under her eyes, and wearing her usual red t-shirt and jeans. She looks up when she hears him (though of course she already knew he was there), smiling as if he's an old friend.

"You made it," she says brightly. That probably means more than one thing. She pats a spot on the ground next to her. "Have a seat~"

[iamtetsuo]

"Okay..."

Almost against his better judgement, he does, walking slowly over to her as if expecting at any moment for her to suffer some grisly fate or explode into some nightmarish thing. When she doesn't, he sits down where indicated, sparing a moment to look around again. It's all so peaceful. Any minute now, the horror'll return...

His eyes refocus on the woman. Something doesn't seem right, somehow...

"Who are you?"