cold war confessional part ii: real world log (april player plot)

[pillz]

WHO: Everyone who wants to play
WHERE: Major ImPort cities
WHEN: April 7-21, 2017— backtags welcome
WHAT: Over in the real world, life continues much as usual... except that many of our friends, loved ones, enemies, and irritating co-workers seem to have caught an alarming case of the sleepies. Also there is a serial-killer wandering around actively hallucinating, no big deal.
WARNINGS: Mild medical, psychological themes, past murder, please warn in subject headers if anything else comes up.
Okay. So you're at work. Now where the Heck is everybody else?

April Seventh, Two Thousand and Seventeen

Cold War Confessional II

Sleep Plague Spreads Across America

How Worried Should We Be, Exactly?

Hey, Honey, How Was Nap?

It starts innocuously enough. A hefty percentage of Heropans sleeps in on Friday morning, enough that the Morning News picks up the story, has a good laugh about it. Traffic bottlenecks a little later. Households and doctors vary: 24-hour bug, maybe. You stayed up too late studying.

But as of the next day, the epidemic worsens. A couple of alarm snoozes stretches out into over half the day for some, and ImPorts and natives alike begin to worry as their loved ones fail to answer calls or doors well into the following day. The estimates run that 5-10% of the natives are missing from work at any given time, and the ImPorts are even worse off. It isn't merely Heropa then, either; Maurtia Falls, De Chima, Nonah, the contagion is everywhere. The word is out.

Something strange is afoot, subtler than monsters the size of skyscrapers, but perhaps just as insidious.

Comments

han solo | ota

[carbonfrozen]

[one. || april 7-9]

[It starts off so innocently, is the thing. Han's slept in a few times before, so he dismisses the sleep bug as nothing to be worried about, just a minor inconvenience solved by caf and maybe fixing his sleep schedule. He even joins in on the joking about it.

He isn't laughing so hard come the next few days, when he sleeps in past his usual time again and again and again, and when he keeps dozing off in places he really should not be. For example, behind the wheel of his garbage taxi in the midst of traffic, or at a café waiting for his order, or at a park bench, or even at a bar halfway through a drink, or even halfway through a conversation.

It always starts like this:]

Look, all I'm saying is—[he stops, and yawns, rubs at his eyes. Something is off here.]

[two. || april 10 onwards]

[Then he starts having nightmares.

Not the usual kind of nightmare, mind—this is the kind that sinks its claws into his head, refuses to leave even after the details have faded. He's jumpy, jittery, nervous about something he can't quite explain. He throws a glance over his shoulder, half-thinking someone's following him, but he's just imagining things. He's sure.

He buys another cup of coffee, his third today, and tries to ignore the feeling of his eyelids growing too heavy.]

7th

[faithfulson]

[ This was a lot that suddenly just got piled on top of Luke. Arriving in a strange world, seeing someone on its network claiming to be his father... he didn't know what else to expect. But he did see Han -- thawed out from carbonite and looking okay -- on that network, and that's what he decided to focus on. His friend was here, he was all right and... he wasn't quite sure how to contact him? He didn't trust the network, not after what he saw, so his initial thought was to go to his assigned home and gather himself before looking for Han. ]

[ So it was pure dumb luck he happened to be passing by #18 when he saw Han coming out of the apartment. Luke immediately flinched at the thought, imagining the can coming down on his head for thinking that luck had anything to do with it. He shook it off, before raising a hand to get his attention. ]

Han!

coffee at home? lmk if this needs adjusting!

[storyseeker]

[Elena is feeling more than a little groggy when she pads into the kitchen in search of that precious java. She got back late last night after a few days in other porter cities, fruitlessly trying to chase down story leads, and that must be way she's so exhausted—can't be jet lag, since she never left the time zone.

There's barely anything left in the bulk tub she remembers buying a couple weeks ago, though, and she frowns; it should have lasted at least another week. Han, the housemate she's only met in passing, is the only other one there, so she zeroes in on him.]

Did you use all the coffee?

Kaidan Alenko | OTA

[kanadian]

[ 1. Please tell me I'm not the only one. ]

Normally, Kaidan wakes up early. Four AM early. He gets up, feeds Mako, feeds himself, and then they go out for a run while Shepard sleeps the last of his long, late day away. Come back, shower, wake up boyfriend, let Mako get her snuggles with John in, and he makes a real breakfast before he leaves for work. This morning was different. Oh, the first part was normal, up until he tried to wake up his boyfriend.

That didn't go over well, so maybe he's just sleepy. He tries again after shower and breakfast to no good.

That's... bad.

He calls into work, and starts calling other people as quickly as he can. He knows how this goes, and if one is down, there's probably more. He starts with Jaime, then Jacob, going down through his contact list to little success. He's starting to think he might be the only one. He starts shifting through the network numbers he has, before he gives up, and leaves again, this time with Mako in tow, although the dog looked slightly panicked when he left. Not for long -- he had to be home in case something happened, but...

He starts with the usual import haunts. Any library, computer lab, store, even the porters, he starts hunting for other people, maybe someone he knows, or has seen around -- anything or anyone? Just someone to help. "Don't tell me I'm the only one left behind," he murmurs to himself, just a touch frustrated after the third stop and no result.

[ 2. We need a plan... ]

Kaidan was used to leading things. He had a contingent of Marines he'd trained back home. He was a Council Spectre for god's sake, and he's trying to get things coordinated. There's more than one person awake, now. He's doing everything he can. He might not be able to hack like Jaime can, but he can open up the line of communication, or even run coffee runs.

It's not...the best of work, but...it's doing something. He's eager to find people to help, and if he notices an import nearby, he's quick to stop. "Hey, everything okay? You need anything?" it's a quick statement, but even so... It's only a moment before: "We might need your help. Do you want to help solve what's happening?"

[ WILDCARD ]

[ Kaidan will be arranging things outside. He will be posting here shortly, as well. If you want to plot something, please hit me up, or run with a prompt! If you'd like a starter, please let me know! ]

2!

[helpline]

Those are just the magic words. The Doctor gives Kaidan a grin as he asks if he wants to help. "Of course I do! This sort of thing is right up my alley!"

He's been craving a good catastrophe for a while. It had been what, two weeks since the last one? Two weeks where the Doctor had been trying to lay low and stay calm and not get into trouble because he can't be arrested before Clara's wedding, but this isn't getting in trouble! This is helping people, saving the day, fixing the weird sleeping thing that he's pretty sure has gotten Clara because she's not answering her texts. This is the Doctor being the Doctor and he's so pumped about this.

"So, question. D'you have someone who's fallen asleep? Nobody at my house's fallen asleep, which is good in theory but rubbish in practice."

1, first day; maybe seguing into lucid shit later

[sassguard]

Shepard spent in -- far more than he should, even on a weekend -- despite all efforts to wake him, but it wasn't for forever. Not yet, in any case. When he woke up, it was already early afternoon, and the house was empty. Even Mako was gone, though he could see signs of where Kaidan had fed her and prepared breakfast. His head felt heavy and fuzzy, like despite the amount of sleep he'd gotten, he hadn't actually gotten any real rest, and he can tell he's already missed his shift.

Maybe it's from the Doctor fixing his implant at last -- but that would be strange, wouldn't it? He probably would have seen side effects before now. He didn't bother picking up his communicator, focusing on the nanites embedded under his skin instead and feeling the neural connection form like a jolt and 'hearing' the ring as he waited on Kaidan to respond.

MK | different starters impending :]b

[ewenique]

chilton & jack

[ewenique]

( Today had gone in unexpected directions, but perhaps that was what happened when people were succumbing to a sleeping sickness and people started pointing fingers at someone, seeking out a scapegoat. It had forced MK’s hand, to a degree - she would rather not interact with people in person as much as possible, prefers to stay in her spots of seclusion. She interacted with the Doctor semi-regularly and she looked after a tarantula, and even that seemed like too much on some days. There were risks in association, but to operate in such a place as this with no connections at all was equally risky.

Perhaps there was some benefit in association for Dr. Chilton, for example. Granted he may not see it that way, given that she forced him into the trunk of a car, but there were nuances to what happened that he would come to appreciate in time.

It had been relatively simple: paralysis via manipulation of his shadow, the way that a puppet master could freeze a marionette in place, with a carefully controlled hand. Blindfolded, walked to the car park, helped into the car. It wasn’t hers; it belonged to some nondescript employee, a janitor, perhaps. Moving fast had been necessary, because even in this chaos it was only a matter of time before a car was reported stolen.

And where did you hide stolen cars? The same place that you hid wanted medical professionals - the car scrap yard. A cemetery of rust and twisted metal, and MK is sitting in the body of a another car as she drinks a bottle of iced tea. (She doesn’t like it as much as the powder stuff, but it works.) She’s wearing gloves, has her mask pulled up only enough to allow her to drink, and puts the bottle in her backpack when she’s done. Her hair is hidden away by a hoodie: leave no clues.

Periodically she has given Chilton something to drink, but only enough that she has calculated necessary for his safety. It would be unfortunate if he needed to relieve himself while he is hidden, after all. They are fortunate it is not summer yet, or their hideout would likely be intolerable. When it is safe, she sends a clue to Jack. Nothing too elaborate or hard to crack, but just enough that if someone were to intercept (unlikely) that it wouldn’t allow them to rush to them. MK has learned to be careful through too much loss. At least if Frederick Chilton were to die, it would not be a devastating emotional blow. Disappointing, but not upsetting beyond inconvenience.

She cracks the trunk open to look down at Chilton, sheep mask fully pulled down. ) I think your friend is coming closer.

( She does not say he will be safe - he has been safe already, simply by different standards than he might be used to. She is not an imposing person - 5'4", with a soft voice - and yet. ) You can have more water, now, if you like.

Alice Munro | OTA

[moon_in_her_hair]

The Clinic - Maurtia Falls

[There is little reason to worry for the first few days of this "supposed bug". It seemed no great horror to Alice that others were falling asleep at strange times. After the events with the anachronisms, she felt exhausted as well, though she didn't fall asleep in strange places.

It was only when a week passed that a panic seemed to set in. Understanding the need for healers, Alice returned to the Maurtia Falls clinic. While she still didn't have a handle on the rest of her powers, she knew how to control her healing abilities. That seemed to hurt no one but herself, given the pain that radiated back at her. Some imPorts had fallen and injured themselves between waking and sleeping, collapsing in odd places. Their injuries were minor and easy to tend to.

For the rest, she tried to use an ability only recently discovered, soothing of the mind. There were nightmares among the sleepers. While she couldn't reach them in their dreams, she could at least soothe away their fears. It was difficult and still new to her, but she was willing to try.

With another sleeper being brought in, Alice lead the person who found them towards the back, pointing to an empty bed. It wasn't an imPort asleep at least, only an unfortunate citizen.]

Put them there. [She quickly washed her hands.] Are they injured?

(during 2nd week)

[alcheregis]

[ If it seemed innocuous that Haen, all of five and a half feet tall, was cheerfully manhandling the unconscious native onto the bed by herself with little trouble, well, that was the benefit of having changeable genetics.

If it's more innocuous that she seems alarmingly upbeat rather than worried over the whole thing, well, that's just Haen for you. ]

No, just a bump on the head, I think. I might have tried to give him a good thud of one to see if that would wake him up, clearly it wasn't successful but law of numbers says one of these times it'll work!

Abigail Hobbs | OPEN TO ALL

[am_i_a_monster]

A: April 7th.

Abigail was practically dragging her feet as she walked home from work. She'd slept in that morning and had to work late as a result. She would have taken a bus, if she wasn't genuinely worried that she'd fall asleep on the way and make herself vulnerable to being mugged or worse. The walk was the only thing keeping her awake.

As she passed a bar, two drunk men stumbled out. One of them tugged on her scarf, pulling it from around her neck. With a shout of "Keep away", he thew it to his friend.

"Hey. Give that back." Abigail ordered, moving one hand to her neck to cover her scar. In her exhausted state, she didn't have the strength to fight and found herself trying to catch the scarf with her other hand, as the two men tossed it back and forth to each other. "C'mon, I need it." Her eyes traveled to a passerby, hoping they would help her.

B: After the 7th

Yet again Abigail found herself walking alone, with her shoulders slumped, her eyes shadowed with the exhaustion that seemed more than bone deep. This time, she intended to go to a doctor but it hadn't seemed right to call an ambulance for exhaustion. With each step, she doubted that decision. Her mind was screaming at her to sleep and her body felt so heavy. She stopped in a park and dropped onto a bench before she collapsed. If she could only rest her eyes, just for a few minutes, she told herself - then she could have the energy to continue on her way. Her eyes fluttered closed, so close to sleep as she heard someone else in the park.

A.

[grimreaping]

When the man holding the scarf turned to toss it back to his friend the next time, he found himself face to face with a stony glare on a young man who was definitely not there a moment ago. Kid grabbed the scarf from the man before he had a chance to recover.

"Your highly-inebriated selves are excused. Go home, stop beleaguering this woman."

nike lemercier | ota

[drizzle]

OPTION I

[Nike had heard about the sleep spell from one of the reporters practicing their lines in their dressing room after the end of her shift on Saturday morning. She didn't think much about it, believing it was her colleague pretending to give whatever exciting news that popped up in their mind as a way to practice their presentation. It wasn't an unusual sight. She was given the same advice to do before the actual practice sessions for the cameras and other technical stuff.

It isn't until she begins to notice the slight changes in her surroundings that she begins to realize something was definitely up. Her senses weren't as sensitive as when she first arrived, but it hasn't fully adapted yet. She can taste the concern, feel the anxiety vibrating in the air, and the uneasy warmth touching her skin. Along with that, she can sense something else, but hasn't completely put her fingers on it. Her connection felt odd...

Whatever the case, it was enough to distract her enough from noticing her current surroundings, such as walking into ongoing traffic or bumping into someone a little too hard which will catch her notice.]

Oh, sorry! Are you okay?

OPTION II

[The sleep spell was getting worse as the days went by. Nike will notice the slight decrease in numbers concerning her colleagues and the amount of people on the street. Along with the less heavy noises surrounding her. At the very least, in Heropa it has been getting quieter while the other cities were getting louder, it was enough for her to remain in Heropa, close to her friends, rain partner, and acquaintances alike. Especially when most were affected by whatever was happening.

Nike has tried to use her powers to create as much noise as possible. Be it summoning intense and violent thunderstorms, having Ryuka, her fox pup, gnaw at her friend's arms a bit, or using her levitating powers to knock items on the ground and walls hard; it had very little effect.

That's the reason she decides to experiment her powers a bit by going to overly crowded areas in Heropa to sing the following song with all of her might, allowing it to rain hard enough to help keep whoever was outside to wake up by the cold rain and slight hypnosis affect in her voice suggesting for whoever was restless to become more energetic through positive thoughts and putting the dire situation in the back of the mind for the time being.

If that didn't work, then summoning very loud thunder and lightning may just do it.]

WILDCARD

(ooc: If you don't see anything you like, then type up whatever you want to do, but if you want something personalized for your character then PM or PP me at floralstone.)

I

[glowsferatu]

[ When she looks to see who she's bumped into, there won't be anyone there at all. But, if she looks down toward all that frantic chirping, there will be a giant bug rubbing against her leg, trying to reach the hem of her skirt with her small, spindly legs.

She doesn't seem to be bothering Nike by accident, but knowing that the look in those glossy black eyes. Her bizarrely human-like face looks like it's on the verge of tears, letting out an endless stream of clicks and chirps. But still, this is a giant damn bug, the size of a medium dog. That's always a weird thing to encounter the first time. ]

Daisy Johnson | OTA

[morethan084]

OTA
[The only reason, as far as Daisy sees it, that she's still awake is because of Jesse. With his healing ability, he can keep her from falling asleep. She's not sure how the others are managing, unless some of them have the power to stay awake whenever they feel like it.

She was no doctor, but this was obviously not just some coincidence? She thought it might be something in the air, but quickly ruled that out because the animals seemed fine.

Daisy spends most of her time when she's out either at the coffee shop in Heropa doing research on her laptop, or out actually asking people how they're awake. Or if anyone they know has fallen victim to this plague of sorts.]

Closed to Jesse

[It's late and, normally, Daisy would be asleep right now. Except she's got Jesse keeping her awake constantly. Is this what it was like for him every day? How the hell did he not feel off at all times considering the days just kind of blend together like this.

Feeling him touch the small of her back, Daisy tried to hide a smile as she read over things on her laptop.]

C'mon. Stop. Seriously I need to focus on this.

[He had been distracting her for a few hours now, but what the hell was the point of staying awake if it was just to fool around? Okay, maybe that was a good reason to stay awake. Helping people though? That was also a really good reason.

Use your power for good, Jesse.]

Wildcard

[Feel free to PM me if there's something you want to do! Or feel free to make your own prompt here.]

coffee shop!

[nastygram]

Don't you look perky.

[Darlene is also here to, ostensibly, work. One hand grips a venti iced mocha, and her other hand is gripped at the strap of her backpack, which looks pretty heavy. She still wearing her sunglasses, even though the interior of the coffee shop is pretty dim.

And Darlene does, actually, look kind of perky. A little pale, like she's been inside a lot lately, but not like she's zoning out or the likely next victim of any narcoleptic plague.

Slowly, she raises the straw to her lips and takes a long drink as she considers Daisy's setup.]

Big plans for today?

[It's been like months since their one and only face-to-face, but she's being totally chill. Picking up where they left off with a touch less paranoia.]

OTA/Coffee Shop

[kestreldawn]

[Jyn's taken it upon herself to try to explore the other linked areas via Porter. She still doesn't quite understand the technology, and she's vaguely curious whether there'll be some ill long-term effects from having her molecules scattered and re-coagulated into something that makes sense, but the convenience of it is sort of incredible. Although her own galaxy knows technological advances that are seemingly unheard of here, teleportation is something they'd not yet achieved.

Why not take advantage now that she's here?

She wanders into the coffee shop once she's arrived in Heropa, mostly curious about how the coffee here might compare to the kind she was used to at home. (Should she start calling this place home?)

After procuring a drink, she settles down near a woman who's seemingly lost in the glowing screen of her portable device, shooting her a casual glance of mild curiosity.]

[hostage]

[The truth is, Jesse does feel off at all times. He sleeps occasionally out of boredom, or dozes when he's particularly relaxed, but there are usually weeks between those instances and he rarely sleeps more than an hour. The passage of time becomes fictional in a way. Alarms remind him when he has to be somewhere because he would probably forget otherwise. Immortality is ultimately very strange and sometimes feels like a disease in itself.

He's pleasantly drowsy now, though, as he's absorbing the wear of the hours from Daisy. Toying with her body, fingers tracing the curve of her spine, he smiles when she scolds him.]

Sorry. Is this distracting?

[He knows perfectly well that people don't need help right now.]

ota

[orangeyaglad]

Heropa, April 7.

[Kouta keeps yawning and shaking his head to try and clear it, and get rid of some of that sleepiness. He didn't think he'd stayed up too late, but maybe... It makes more sense than the idea that he's got interplanetary jetlag after being back on Earth for weeks now. Which he had been seriously considering up til the point that he realized he was not the only one a little too drowsy.

Then he yawns so suddenly he stumbles right into the person coming in the other direction on the sidewalk, and he jerks away tripping over his own feet.]

I'm so sor-sor- [yyyyawn] awwwwwwwrry. Sorry. You okay?


Heropa, April 10.

[Anyone in the vicinity of the Tooty Frooty Produce Booty Farmer's Market this fine morning is in for a show: The normally extremely hard working clerk is not only fast asleep on the job, but he fell asleep on the merchandise. Now he is very slowly sinking on a bed of grapes, which are very slowly bursting under his weight... that's gonna leave a stain.

The good news is there's a bell nearby to get his attention when he's unloading freight from trucks, so you COULD annoy him awake. Or get yourself a free watermelon. Or watch him snore a grape right up his nose. That's definitely about to happen.]

April 7th

[stegophily]

[ Faith was actually a little appalled at herself, for being someone who took pride in being alert and agile, she also felt so drained that she didn't even move out of the way. ]

Hey--! [ the reaction is reflexive, rather than real ] ... Yeah, I'm all right. You?

Luke Skywalker | From the 10th onward | OTA

[faithfulson]

[ It was very clear that there was a huge problem going on, and it didn't just stem from people being tired. There wasn't much he could do to figure out why; trying to sense it out with the Force just led to some weird buzzing feeling that he couldn't put a name to. ]

[ So instead of trying to piece it together, he opted instead to make sure the people that were falling asleep in the worst places imaginable stayed safe. Whether it was stopping people that fell asleep at the wheel of their cars, or helping people that passed out on benches get to their homes safe. ]

[ He can be found at just about any of the porter cities during the whole sleeping plauge (when he isn't babysitting a certain smuggler that keeps trying to work), looking a little haggard toward the end of it, but otherwise just trying to keep up with the people that need help. ]

[de chima]

[kestreldawn]

[Jyn's found something like a routine in this strange new life. She isn't particularly thrilled or happy with the work she's doing - and the irony of doing the work of a droid isn't lost on her - but it keeps her from spiralling, keeps her from existing too much in her head.

She's started to get a better grip on these new powers she has apparently acquired. She doesn't understand why or how, and suspects she never will, but she knows to at least expect the sudden influx of memory, of emotion, of thought. She can't control them, not yet anyway, but being aware of them is better than when she'd arrived.

The sleeping plague is something she hadn't noticed right away; it was only that Han had mentioned it in one of his audio communiques. Now, as she travels the increasingly familiar route to her job, she notices a man who seems to be busying himself with ensuring the safety of those who've had the unfortunate luck of catching the sickness. She approaches cautiously, respectfully.]

A rather big undertaking for one man, don't you think?

the twelfth doctor | ota!

[helpline]

a: sometime during the earlier half of the event, anywhere
Something's up. Something weird is going on, people are asleep, he can't contact other people so they might be asleep, it's been at least twenty-four hours which is long enough for the Doctor to label this as Something Weird. And really, all the better, now that this is officially a Thing, he needs to get the data, ask around, figure out who's asleep and why so that he can take notes and figure out what's what.

The problem here is his methods. The Doctor's getting that data by straight up breaking into the government provided houses. If a window's open, climbing in through the window is the first choice but if not, he'll just use the sonic screwdriver to unlock a back door. Look, if everybody in the house is asleep, then some things might not get done. Spoiled food might need to be thrown out, pets might need to be fed, he knows that if he fell into a weird sleep whatever, he'd want somebody to feed his menagerie! Plus, he could also take some biological readings with the sonic screwdriver of anyone who's dreaming in the first place.

Of course, occasionally he breaks into a house that has somebody actually awake. Whoops.

b: sometime during the latter half of the event, heropa grocery store
The Doctor's been using his telepathy more in the past week than he has in the past thousand or so years. As such, it's exhausting. He's not going to tell anyone that, of course. He's the Doctor, lookit him, he's got weirdo alien powers and is doing a wonderful job keeping things going and helping to figure things out! But that doesn't change the start of a headache he can feel in the back of his brain.

So, best to treat that. After all, he can't wake Clara up if he's not at top level himself. The Doctor's standing in front of a large shelf of different types of tea, frowning as he looks them over. When someone approaches, the Doctor waves them over.

"Right, I get that sleepytime is for sleeping, but which one's actually for headaches?"

Can you tell he normally drinks coffee?

c: wildcard!
[ the Doctor can mostly be found in Heropa, but I'm flexible if needed! hit me up yo ]

a

[h2no]

"Muk, Muuuuuuuuk!"

Oh, did the Doctor jump into the wrong house. Not only is Archie still awake, but he's cooking lunch in the kitchen. Unfortunately, he had set his belt with all his Pokéballs down near the door. The door to the kitchen, which he'd left open, and was next to whatever entrance the Doctor had crawled in through.

Archie's Muk had released itself, thinking the break in to be a danger to its trainer. It roared its name a few more times before, "Fuck! Stand down, ya giant jelly-head!" Archie yells from the kitchen, running through with a rather fetching apron on. "Damnit, I'm gonna have to clean the carp--"

He stops. Stares at the scene.

"Oh."

Doc Brown | Heropa | OTA

[4thdimensional]

april 7th

[Over at the HOPE school, there's a physics class suddenly missing its professor. He eventually rises at three in the afternoon, exclaiming his disbelief with a 'Great Scott!', and dashing out a quick missive to his students.]

My sincerest apologies---I've lost track of time! Enjoy your weekend, and your reprieve on the latest assignment. I'll see you all Monday. -Dr. Brown

[He forces himself out of bed, feeling oddly like he hadn't slept all that much. Better not to drive, so he slumps into a booth in the nearest pizza joint frequented by students.]

I ought to get that temperature checked. Something's not right.

april 11th

[He's finally up and out, using what remains of his energy to be very, very worried. He's walking his two dogs late into the evening, hoping they'll pull him into alertness or inspire an insight.

He's definitely in no mood to go back to sleep any time soon, as evidenced by his even more unkempt than usual appearance.]

Lovely evening. Lovely enough to watch it all night, I hope.

wildcard

[Any other meetings, as he gets progressively worse or after he's cured?]

for mr. gold - april 10th

[4thdimensional]

[Despite his reassurance, the HOPE students do not see Dr. Brown on Monday. He's fallen further and further into the nightmare, barely rising from bed at all. What little energy he has left is used to care for his fretting dogs, but they still might be heard whining at the door. He sleeps well into the evening, sprawled upside down on the nearest couch with a deep frown.

This...might be bad news.]

Zelda | Heropa | OTA

[inmemoriae]

//Scenario A; First Half of the Event//

[It doesn't take long for the news to spread. People are asleep--sleeping far longer than usual it would seem. There doesn't seem to be a rhyme or reason to those being affected, nor is there signs of a general, physical infection.

All of this, of course, catches the attention of Zelda. There was something strange here, something bigger and unseen--and that was worrying. It was for this reason that Zelda was out among the people of Heropa, a notebook clutched to her chest. At any point, one might find her in a coffee shop, or the library--anywhere quiet where she could make observations or study the notes she already had.

There were answers here, and she was going to do what she could to find them.]

//Scenario B; Any time after April 10th//

[She was tired. Or perhaps tired was an understatement--it had long since reached past simple tiredness and into the realm of overwhelming exhaustion. Back home, her abilities had only just developed and now she was using them almost daily to try and do something to help.

Between trying to reach out to practical strangers with her telepathy, a feat which was continually proving difficult, and the long hours she spent taking notes and trying to find some connection to explain the spreading contagion...It was little wonder she was exhausted.

Still, she couldn't stop. Not now--not when there was still hope something could come from her efforts.]

//Scenario C; Wild Card//

[Choose your own adventure!! Zelda's all up and around Heropa right now, so pretty much anything is plausible.]

sylar. ota. throughout april, up until 21st.

[bosewicht]

[ For most people, the mass hallucination of a Soviet-controlled dystopia is something that wraps around their sleeping minds, waiting for them between the moments of waking, or otherwise fading into the place where vivid nightmares go when you've broken free.

For Sylar, he walks unsleeping through the real world, seeing only the false one, and the haunting memories that drift to the surface. ]

HUNT;

[ It's overcast in Maurtia Falls when the sound of tires shrieking and cries from bystanders interrupt an otherwise mellow afternoon in the city.

If you caught sight of what happened, it went like this: a man, a little over six foot tall and dressed in solid black, bursting from the sidewalk at a dead run, and straight into busy traffic. To say he looks frightened is not quite accurate. Fear is present, but it's an urgent kind of fear, a predatory fleeing a bigger predator. And then a car wipes him out, his lanky body thrown up onto its hood, into the windshield, rolling heavy-boned off of it to crash onto the asphalt, where he stays temporarily stunned.

That Sylar is still alive isn't necessarily a miracle. Lucky, perhaps. That he is entirely unhurt is another matter.

The driver, herself, is worse off, bowed over the steering wheel as the sprains of her sudden stop make her vision go dark at the edges. More wheels lay down rubber marks as traffic collides into a halt, snaking back one block like a snake with a broken spine, and Sylar is getting to his feet at a stagger. No blood, no broken bones, but the sleeve of his shirt is now torn. Bystanders make a circle, which is broken when a policeman elbows his way through, approaching Sylar with his hands out, radio attached to his shoulder crackling. He's saying something like: stay still, we're getting you some help.

He doesn't get to finish before Sylar's hand is closing on his throat, dragging him in with too much ease, bringing him down against the dented hood of the car. Both hands, now, around the young officer's throat, who doesn't yet have the presence of mind not to grasp at Sylar's wrists, gun secured at his hip. ]

RESCUE;

[ It's late at night when Sylar enters the train. He doesn't look well, and the scattering of commuters sparse throughout the train car are immediately at ill-ease. Maybe they recognise his face, or maybe they only do subconsciously. Maybe it's just the feeling he's putting out. He's tall, takes up space, and there's an unwashedness about him that speckles his complexion, unkempt and unshaven.

This really only sets the tone for when he starts, apparently, talking to thin air. ]

In case you didn't notice, I just saved your life, [ he says, addressing the empty seat across from him, the city blurring by. His voice is quiet, but audible, urgent, rasping. A woman who was sitting closest promptly gets up to find somewhere else to sit, but Sylar doesn't give her a glance. He continues to talk, a one-sided argument, an element of breakage raw in his voice. ] Yeah, that's real big of you.

[ He glances down the train aisle, hunkering down, not quite rocking where he sits, but near enough to broadcast all is not right in his world. ]

What do you want, Elle, [ is vicious, but near whispered. ] To leave you behind? Let them have you, use you? You can go back to being the good little Company girl you always wanted to be.

[ And then, a full-bodied jerk, violent enough that his head strikes the window behind him neatly, and he flinches, curling up, hands gripping the edges of his seat, white-knuckled, head down. ]

REPRIEVE;

[ For a moment

just for now

the two worlds that Sylar navigates overlay one another into one thing that makes sense. It's another late night of wandering, running, but the lights in the subway station make this space seem completely out of time. Maybe, in the back of his mind, there's propaganda playing through public address sound systems, but otherwise, the memories have left him. The phantoms are gone. It's even empty of people, and his footsteps ring out as he walks across the tiled floor.

His skin has lost colour, his body has lost weight, and he hasn't put a razor to his face for some days, hair growing in dark and coarse. His clothing is all black and hides whole manners of sins, but he smells unwashed, and a little earthy -- like the rain, like the city, like blood. Besides the missing middle digit on his left hand, however, he is entirely ininjured. Not a bruise, not a graze.

He glances at vending machines. He could probably eat. ]

[ ooc ; feel free to hit up any of the above suggestions, but i'd like to keep it to one thread each for sanity's sake. you can also honestly make up whatever setting or scenario you would like to encounter sylar in, or let me know if you want to plan something. ]

Reprieve

[stretchy_girl]

[Faces were Gemini's speciality, perhaps it was perhaps part and parcel of her powers but once she'd seen someone's features, whether in person or via a picture the details always stayed with her.

Which was why she follows the unkempt looking man through the streets of Maurtia Falls, not being subtle about it, her heels click-clicking along as the object of her interest moves ad stopping whenever he does. An evening following someone around had not been her plan when she'd left her stolen penthouse, there had been a party she'd wanted to at least try and enjoy. But all that had gone right out the window when she'd passed someone in the street, a man whose face Gemini immediately recognised from various crime reports which had made for very entertaining reading. More unkempt than the photos, with a smell that made her nose wrinkle, this was indisputably Gabriel Gray aka the infamous Sylar. It would almost be enough to make her heart beat a little faster, if she had one.

The air was already starting to grow chill from the approaching cold front, causing many to begin to huddle into their coats and hurry home, but Gemini rarely felt the cold, her rubber body making it hard to gauge temperature, so as she steps onto the platform a few yards behind Sylar, she still wears the tight one-piece dress that she grew for herself earlier in the evening and doesn't look at all cold as she leans casually against a pillar, cold blue eyes calculating as she watches Sylar's back with interest before finally speaking.]

You could do with a shower.

John Constantine

[heckblazer]

Awakening; for Zatanna

[ Whoever the next person was who said they envied John for remembering his dreams in such detail, he decided, would get punched. What people didn't realize is that it meant the nightmares as well.

There had been the vivid cardinal of the communist banners. The furious carmine of flames as he levelled their gulags, the deep amber of the liquor in the safehouse cabinets, the crimson bile he coughed up in withdrawal when they tried to fix him, and six awful, scarlet titanium rings piercing a girl's mouth shut. The last of it all was absolute dark.

A sore back and a familiar perfume's scent greet him as he rejoins the waking world, the former being from him splayed on a couch and the latter belonging to the same person who's couch it is.

He rolls onto the floor with a thump, finding himself devoid of his usual with commentary. ]

Zee?

((OOC: feel free to yell at me if you want a prompt, frands))

[zee_zatara]

[By the time she'd found his sleeping form and dragged him back to her place, she'd burned herself out of her magic for the day. She'd slept (normal, non-dreamscape sleeping, though there'd been some nice, vivid echos of it echoing around in her subconscious) in the chair she had next to the couch, and it was his stirring that woke her.]

Hey. Hey. Deep breaths. It wasn't real, but it was- well, not just your nightmare this time.

[She makes him drink water, and try some simple solid food, and eases him into fully waking as best she can before explaining it. Yes, she'd been there. Yes, she remembers it all too. That she'd woken up after dying, that she'd done her best to reach into his mind. She doesn't talk about certain things she'd said in that world, or the guilt she felt for leaving him alone in it. But it is pretty obvious in the way she's tending to him. She's being nice. Probably too nice. It's hard not to be, after seeing him grieve for her, as frustrating as it was to try and get that message through his pain.]