(no subject)

[tln-theshifter.livejournal.com]

WHO: OPEN, multiple threads encouraged; The Shifter & you..
WHERE: Your dreams
WHEN: The nights of the 19th & 20th, or maybe during the day, if you happen to nap.
WHAT: The nightmares are becoming more real. You're beginning to wonder if maybe there's something to this.
WARNINGS: Violence, disturbing images.

NOTE: Joining this log means entering into a dream. This gives The Shifter and I permission to control your character to some extent (within reason). You, as your character, will still be choosing how to react and no harm will be inflicted without pre-approved agreement. Just remember: Whatever happens in the dream, carries over into reality (related to injuries/small items picked up/etc).

Please reply with a blank comment or OOC note for something you would/n't like to see and I will establish the dream.

Sleep well.

Comments

Anything goes~

[family-remains.livejournal.com]

[tln-theshifter.livejournal.com]

It sets into Sam's mind that something doesn't make sense. The room looks inconspicuous enough with light wood floors and off-white walls. Perhaps it is the lack of doors or windows, perhaps it's the way light seems to be coming from nowhere at all. Nothing calls out as being particularly nefarious.

But then, the ceiling is black, isn't it? The kind of black where darkness lurks. A clean line of shadows, four feet above his head, just out of reach.

A glimmer of light. Sam is held in awe for a moment, excitement building because he knows the indication may be that of an escape from this prison, oblivious as he is to its nature. Then the light is coming closer. Something about it seems unnatural.

[family-remains.livejournal.com]

He stands still, watching the light with a mix of unease and rapt curiosity. Unnatural or not, he wants to know what it is.

Something in his gut tells him that, yes, this weird, and no, it's probably not the good kind. But he doesn't seem concerned enough to move. And besides, where would he go?

He glances around for a split second, tearing his gaze away from the light to see if anything is around him, but he isn't sure. And that light is just getting brighter and brighter.

GO FOR IT BB

[mulletrockking.livejournal.com]

[tln-theshifter.livejournal.com]

The dining room is familiar from some time ago, too vague a memory to recall in the haze Dean's mind is presently contained in. It strikes fear deep in his heart and he hates that he can't recall why he should be afraid. Sam isn't here. No one is. There's an eerie calm-- no, silence. The kind of silence that doesn't come naturally. Dean turns toward the window, but his attention is pulled away.

A clawing at the door, growling and howls. Dean still can't remember why he should be afraid, but he knows it's wrong. He knows he should be trying to escape. The sound builds and he begins looking for a weapon. Just as the creature beyond should be bursting in, he takes hold of a chair to fight it...

He's on a path. What should be dirt is black and gray and too dense, maybe ash. He's warm, the dim glow around him being cast by flames. This isn't Hell, this isn't home. There still seems to be no one near. Dean doesn't care about the flames, knowing walking through and amongst them will do nothing to harm him.

[mulletrockking.livejournal.com]

And whether they'll harm him or not, it doesn't make it any less unsettling. Part of him wants to stay there, because going forward can't be the smartest of ideas, and this place...It's not somewhere he knows.

But a dream is a dream, and unless it's the lucid kind, there's usually no way to stop what's coming, which is why he puts one foot in front of the other, step after step, moving onward down the path. And as he walks along, he glances around himself, peering through the flames to decipher where the hell he is. It's not Hell, no, but it's close enough to see sparks, he supposes, and brilliant and uncomfortable memories surface before he shoves them back down, still maintaining a steady gait, despite the ash (well, he guesses it's ash) everywhere, and the soft hiss of flames.

One thing he does figure, however, is that any path that looks like this can't be to the land of lollipops and candy mountain.

A nap and Cas' first dream EVER

[doubtheaven.livejournal.com]

[tln-theshifter.livejournal.com]

The noise of the horn cuts across whatever dreary emptiness might have existed before, drawing Castiel into the kind of consciousness that exists in a dream. Water smacks at his face and he struggles to understand his surroundings faster, not understanding why he would be laying in the rain.

Then he's standing on the small boat, casting his gaze about the seemingly endless water around him. The vessel is empty of oars, food, clothing, or any other item aside from a net made of simple, thick, braided rope. The sky is gray, despite no recognition of clouds, sun, or any other semblance of normal weather.

Glad I saw Inception yesterday... lol

[doubtheaven.livejournal.com]

An angel had no need to sleep. The feeling of being tired as a body’s need to rest and recuperate wasn’t something Castiel was used to. On top of that, dreaming was just plain out of left field for him. Sure, he had been inside the dreams of others before, but those were not his dreams. Not his creations. What do angels dream about?

Apparently, they dream about rain! It takes awhile for Castiel to properly respond. Perhaps he’s not so different in dreams than he is in life. His hand wipes some cool drops of water from his face and he closes his eyes against the rain, feeling it patter against his skin.

Then in the next moment he’s on that boat and looking around. He’s out at sea. How he got here or why he’d even be here to begin with aren’t necessary questions. It’s a dream. How does anyone know how they got anywhere? “Strange weather we’re having.” The angel says to himself as he reaches for the net to inspect it, seeing as it’s the only thing around. Maybe he should cast a line. Perhaps he’ll fish up something spectacular. Cas wasn’t sure what to do otherwise. It felt really dismal out. So.. dreary.. even lonely on the one-manned vessel.

pretty standard

[duke-of-albany.livejournal.com]

OOC: Leopold is most afraid of failure, I guess. He thinks his life has been pretty much useless up to this point, and it would kill him to think that he died without having made any mark on the world. His Uncle Millard is also a pretty terrifying old man, since he spent a lot of time belittling everything Leopold did. So yeah, failure, death, and his uncle.

[tln-theshifter.livejournal.com]

Leopold is walking down the street toward the bridge which is only just being erected, returned to his own time and memories. Nothing seems out of ordinary and he has no recollection of the manor here. A man calls out in panic from the streets.

Words are never heard in dreams, but merely understood. Death, a terrible accident. Help, please. Come to the bridge.

There exists an air of darkness despite suitable light, of pressure despite perfect weather. Of course Leopold can walk away, the man speaks not to him directly.

[duke-of-albany.livejournal.com]

Familiar surroundings should bring relief and a sense of peace, but Leopold feels strangely weighed down. He takes a mental inventory and finds no cares but the usual ones until the shout echoes in his mind. He whirls but cannot tell immediately who the panicked cry belonged to. He quickens his pace in the direction he was already going, until the towering foundations of the Brooklyn Bridge are visible.

He finds himself breathing harder than the pace warrants as an irrational sense of panic makes his heart race. He wonders what has happened and then why he should have cause for fear over it. No one he knows can possibly have been involved.

HIT ME WITH YOUR BEST SHOT

[longagotomorrow]

[tln-theshifter.livejournal.com]

Strange. The Doctor was just behind her a moment before. Amy glances around the field, empty and blanketed in the kind of fog she views as creepy in a comedic way, rather than genuinely worrisome. The TARDIS is only ten feet away or so, the door closed. Where they are, how they got there.. it's not even a thought, a concern.

The Doctor's voice sounds behind her as an echo reminiscent of her name, but no one is there when she turns.

[longagotomorrow]

Amy whirled around, trying to pinpoint where the Doctor's voice was coming from. Just like him to run off and leave her in the middle of a foggy field.

"Doctor?" she called, exasperated. "Doctor, where'd you go?"

let's have some trauma~

[dedicatedbitch]

ooc: There was a school shooting a few months back that I'm sure nightmares of would traumatize her. She got out after her best friend was shot, but feel free to play with her losing Peyton/other loved ones or getting stuck in their.

[tln-theshifter.livejournal.com]

What a boring day for history. She can't believe she's still in this class, that the teacher is still speaking. Her mind is wandering about her plans for the weekend and about Peyton's latest news. So much to think about.

Maybe the bell rang.

Brooke's in the hall, walking toward her locker. People keep shouldering her and she begins getting irritated after the third person, turning to see who it is. The faces are blurs, though she knows the absence of a face as nothing particularly out of the ordinary. Another bumped shoulder, another faceless student. Looking around, she realizes no one is familiar. Everyone is the generic stranger; not even the annoying guy from her science class or the quiet girl from her english class can be seen.

[dedicatedbitch]

After yet another bumped shoulder, Brooke let out an exasperated breath. "What is wrong with you people? Haven't you ever heard of personal space?" With her books pressed close to her chest, Brooke tried to shove her way through the faceless crowed, ignoring how they all turned their heads in her direction. It's enough to make her restless and definitely ready to bolt as soon as she can get her backpack out of her locker.

AAaaand go.

[iwantyousafe.livejournal.com]

[tln-theshifter.livejournal.com]

Rose is walking a random back alleyway of London on her way to the shops with her best mate, Mickey. Nothing seems out of place and The Doctor is a long-gone memory.. or maybe she hasn't met him yet. A dream's timeline is entirely cyclical. Whatever the case, the girl is oblivious to the world beyond her own at present and to the irrelevant story Mickey shares. She can't hear the words, but it seems that's only natural.

Turning a corner, she can swear she catches a glimpse of the words "BAD WOLF" scrawled across the alleyway, but when she looks again to verify, the wall is entirely blank. She continues on with Mickey, slightly unsettled. But there it is again, that glimpse and gone.

Just as she's about to open her mouth to tell Mickey about the strange feeling, she realizes he is gone and she has no idea just how long it has been that way. Spinning around, she seems a hooded and shadowed figure spray painting onto the wall she keeps seeing.

"BAD W" their writing says so far.

[iwantyousafe.livejournal.com]

Rose's person is physically all over the place as she happily drags Mickey through London. She is on his arm, then suddenly ahead of him, then next to him again, on the opposite side. There's a bag of chips in her hands, then there's not, and she's looking at her watch instead. Nothing about this seems unnatural. She's just happy to be with Mickey, and to be on the hunt for some new earrings and boots.

In one moment, she's laughing at her mate's story. In the next, though, she doesn't hear him at all. The words BAD WOLF cause a buzzing in her head that muffles everything else. The blonde doesn't quite remember what the phrase on the wall means, but she wants it to go away. The phrase feels sentient- aggressive. It's unsettling, but... familiar? And then it's gone.

An odd silence. "Mickey?" She quietly reaches for his hand, but he's disappeared. For a split second, Rose thinks he may have never been there at all.

It is then that she sees the figure, the paint. Her skull fills with the same static. She is confused, and can feel Mickey being erased from her mind. She tries to latch on to his memory so it doesn't slip. This hooded nutter needs to stop. Now.

BAD W

Her head... it... nngh...

Rose's hand reaches for her temples. "'ey kid!" she calls out, assuming the shadowy figure is some chavvy street punk.

[spooktea.livejournal.com]

OOC: Annie is terrified of what'll happen to her if she passes on. Specifically what's at the end of the hallway. In her canon there's a door that leads to a very long hallway you're supposed to walk through when you die. She didn't walk through hers which is why she's a ghost now.

[tln-theshifter.livejournal.com]

Annie wanders the field, running her hand over the waist-high grass. She's alone, enjoying the night and the stars. Then she emerges.

She's in a graveyard, crouching down to look at a particular grave. "ANNIE SAWYER". There's a single white rose laying across the dirt beneath her tombstone. Her hand extends slowly to touch the item.

She's in the field again, running her hand over the grass. Then she steps from the field to cross an empty and seemingly endless dirt road. The two foot, gray stone wall is no obstacle at all. Then she's in a graveyard, wandering among the crosses and the stones. One grave in particular, some distance away, catches her attention.

Annie's crouched at her own grave again. As she takes hold of the rose, a thorn pierces her finger. She drops the flower.

late ;; busy week - let me know if late =/= okay

[alwayscutoff.livejournal.com]

ooc; Buffy's most recent nightmarish memories would involve the defeat at the Vineyard; Caleb killing some of the potentials, taunting her, Xander's eye... Further in her past, however, there's the option of having her relive the whole... waking up in a coffin thing.

However, these are just suggestions.

So... go nuts, do whatever you see fit.~

Sorry I've been slow!

[tln-theshifter.livejournal.com]

"No!"

Buffy's yell seems to go entirely unnoticed, or perhaps they are just tired of arguing with her. Xander and Cordelia are making out on the upper level of the magic shop -- she knows there's something off about that, but can't put her finger on it in the dream --, Anya has busied herself with rearranging the items near the front, Giles is cleaning his glasses, and Dawn is sitting at the round table working on homework. There's a green light where Dawn was sitting, then Dawn again; the image seems to continue to flicker..

Willow enters from the training room then, eyes black with black lines darting around her veins here and there. Tara follows her. Both ignore Buffy and continue on to the front of the store. They pause, Willow blows out the glass, they exit. Anya lets out a frustrated noise and begins cleaning; Oz reassures her.

It's as if Buffy is the only person that can tell that any of this is strange.