But I Don't Want to Go to Sleep

[closetshark]

WHO: Pitch, Rose (nitidus) and Barnaby (attainment)
WHERE: Dreamland
WHEN: Week of June 9th
WHAT: Night Terrors!!
WARNINGS: violence, language, more to be added.

His Nightmares were out in force, twisting and feeding off of the dreams of as many as they could reach and it left Pitch with the time and interest to see to some of the dreamers personally.

It isn't hard to reach into the ethereal with fingers spinning streams of black sand above sleeping heads and take control. Dreams of fire and shadows and losing everything would come, and they would be fantastic.



[[OOC: Here we go! Feel free to take things wherever you'd like during this! I'll keep the warnings updated as needed. ]]

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Rose

[closetshark]

It's slightly tricky, weaving something together for this one. She's seen so much and handled it with such bravery. It's a fascinating reality, hers, and one he wouldn't mind digging in to at some point in the future if there are others around from it.

He sets a labyrinth for her, massive and sprawling and empty with a pressing expectant silence that judges and watches. The walls are tall, hewn of smooth black that reflects nothing but swirls subtly with deeper blacks and glimmers of blues and violets.

There are only three paths to take, each as nondescript as the next and a whisper through the stillness...

Run.

vibrates excitedly

[nitidus]

The darkness is not the alarming thing. It's unfamiliar territory, this labyrinth and it's the unfamiliarity that has her stomach in knots. Everything feels so empty, despite the three open paths. The swirls dizzying if she stares at them for too long and the floor is just empty. If she closes her eyes, she hears the echo of run loud enough that she feels nausea rise up. The darkness itself isn't the alarming thing; it's everything inside it.

It feels like hours pass before she opens her eyes, the paths laid out in front of her. None of them are appealing - none of them promise safety. She considers each one with hysteria growing in her chest. She tries to swallow the panic down. Reaching for logic is a difficult thing when there is nothing rational around. She eyes the middle path the longest and then takes a sharp turn to the third. Run echoes in her ears and she wants to; she wants to run as fast as she can, to find some light or someone else in this maze. Her jaw set, she takes a tentative step towards the third, takes a deep breath and sprints. She runs as fast as her legs will take her, but the walls feels as though they're elongating around her - and surely that can't be the case. Surely it's just her eyes playing tricks on her.

She runs and runs, wishing she had John's bravery or even Kanaya's ability to glow. She forgets, as she runs, that she has the power to light the path to safety with her Sight. It sits at the back of her mind, forgotten and buried by fear.

[closetshark]

The path closes behind her, there's no going back now that a choice has been made. It is hours, or maybe only moments, before the path opens up to a ruined expanse that shouldn't fit in the space it occupies. It is full of crumbling walls and twisted remains of metal things long left to rust and decay.

There are no people, not alive anyway, only dust covered remnants of skeletons wearing clothing that may be familiar to her; a splash of bright blue here, a blaze of crimson there, a riot of green twisted around a femur, a broken piece of orange and white that may have once been attached to someone she knew. It was all illuminated with the pale half light of twilight, and the only way forward is through it.

When she reaches the first building, the echoes of screams start. They blame and beg for her help in turn, the raging and grieving and dying memories of whatever seemed to have happened here.

[nitidus]

The flash of blue in the corner of her eye has her blood running cold. She dare not glance towards the red; her guts already turning, threatening to empty itself right her, right now. She's had her friends die before - but there was always hope they'd return. This place - this macabre echo of what she used to know - offers no hope at all. She turns around once in a full 360. Her eyes dart around wide with fear.

The first building she reaches is of no comfort. Logic is a distant thing, but she shuts her eyes tight and tries to reach for it. In her ears, there's screams for help and biting accusations. She covers them, her palms pressed flat against them. She can't concentrate with all the noise. Breath quickening, she snaps her eyes open and yells, desperately into the empty halls: 'Just shut up for a moment!'

Frightening as the screams are, they're familiar. She knows the voices. She grasps at rationally tight and tries to reason that they'll know her. That the'll listen.

She has to figure a way out of this mess. They'll understand that, surely.

[closetshark]

There is no reason, no logic to the screaming and they simply raise in volume when she yells back at them. There is no hope here, no chance at resurrection for anyone.

There is, However a trail painted in flaking colors of blood pointing towards the end, or at least somewhere that isn't here and now. There are more bodies though, beginning to be used to repair holes in the buildings and even create some macabre installations of some sort of twisted art.

Barnaby

[closetshark]

This one is almost painfully easy, fears of such common things and with the memories to dredge up and twist to make the terror stick for days if not longer. Dragging old traumas and new insecurities in to the light and binding them together is a very old and easy trick of Pitch's, and using the current situation as a binding catalyst will make the results... interesting.

The dream isn't anywhere different than where they are now, starting off like any normal day. Nothing out of the ordinary, nothing that would yet give away that this isn't the waking world.

It's one of his favorites, making it seem like a day passes when only a few hours of sleep occur.

[attainment]

On his way to work, Barnaby stops at a small cafe not far from the office. Although not quite the same as the one he frequented in Sternbild, it's a decent enough establishment with a variety of healthier options that he's started visiting on occasion.

"One iced coffee with soy milk, please," he says at the counter. Thanks to the benefits of registration, paying is a breeze, and he patiently waits for the barista to put his order together.

There are quite a few people in front of him due to the morning rush, but he doesn't mind. The Florida summers are much hotter and more humid than he's used to, so he'll be happy to get his coffee fix in a cooler form today. Thankfully, he's allowed himself plenty of time to get to work.

[closetshark]

There's the usual sort of crowd in the shop, though a table of four men stand out slightly with their grungy appearance and boisterous laughter. The glow of imPort markings are on their wrists and they seem more like the sort to frequent dive bars in Chicago than coffee houses in Florida, troublemakers clearly abusing their status as "heros" and openly laughing about it.

Barnaby's coffee comes quick enough, the barista giving a nervous glance to the rowdy quartet as she hands it off. "Have a good day, sir." She says quietly, before starting another coffee.

[attainment]

Obnoxious people aren't anything new to Barnaby. Unless they're blatantly breaking the law while he's supposed to be on the clock, though, he generally doesn't waste his time dealing with their type.

After thanking the barista, he starts making his way toward the exit, but he slows down when something about the situation strikes him as distinctly "off". If Kotetsu were here, he'd rib him for running off of instinct. But he isn't, which means Barnaby doesn't have to explain himself to anyone when he pauses to get another look at the group of men.

[closetshark]

They devolved in to chanting 'Fire it up!' and punching in the air before tumbling past Barnaby and out the door, hooting and hollering as they pile in to an old vehicle that thunders to life with a roar to rival their own noise.

"Just a bunch of rowdy newcomers." An older woman sighed, shuffling her paper. "Kids these days, not like you upstanding sort but... mn, they'll be sorted out one way or the other by someone." She's mostly nondescript, though the bright amber eyes are a touch out of place.

[attainment]

He was a little glad when the group leaves without any further incident, if only because he didn't want to get involved in some kind of brawl if he didn't have to. When the older woman comments, though, Barnaby can't help but look at her with faintly raised eyebrows.

"You mean by the police?" he asked.

[closetshark]

"Police don't do anything until its too late to stop the damage." she replied knowingly. "They aren't preventers, they're just responders. Best run along son, you don't want to be caught in the crossfire when they come back this way."

[attainment]

Technically, everything the woman had said was true. A person couldn't get arrested before actually committing a crime. Still, something about all of this seemed...off.

"Crossfire?" he echoed. "They're newcomers, but you sound like you know a lot about what they're up to."