thelongnow_logs | (no subject)

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WHO: The Shifter & You. Yes, you.
WHEN: An ambiguous time that feels like a few hours but will, in fact, be the 24-ish hours 'til plot's end.
WHERE: [See NOTES]
WHAT: The house chases The Shifter.
WARNINGS: Language, violence, disturbing images, etc.

NOTES: Everyone in the house (including Castiel and Annie) has perhaps fallen asleep. The dream resembles reality, or vice-versa. You're not entirely sure. Wounds sustained in whatever this is will hurt and act as real wounds; weapons used will work properly, etc. People can form one large group or multiple smaller groups.

You will be encountering nightmares. These will be of your own devising and not The Shifter's direct creation, so please play them out within your group(s) and try to balance and mix multiple peoples' nightmares together (ie Owen might appear alongside Alastair in an empty school hallway, or you might find yourselves in Hell alongside Michael with key!Dawn trying to help you out). Please recall there are other monsters if you care to use them.

The Shifter will enter when he is found (yes, he will be found).. but that means that it's up to the players to get through at least one round of nightmares. A tip: work together! Please also be mindful of other peoples' activity and either break into groups based on that OR be patient. No one should be left out. If you break into groups, every group will get a Shifter and it will be up to you guys to figure out which is The Shifter.

tl;dr Work together, have fun, create your own nightmares and I'll torment you near the end with The Shifter.

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Time to sleep. Or are you waking up?

Amy sat bolt-upright, gasping for breath as she tried to remember what had been happening. She'd dreamed... or was she dreaming now? She couldn't keep track anymore. She'd thought she'd been in the second floor common room, but now she was in her bedroom.

"I'm awake now," she snapped at the voice that still seemed to linger in the air. A little uncertainly, she added, "This feels real."

He always leaves you, doesn't he? Alone in the dark. Never apologizes.

The sound of the TARDIS' engines roared through the room, and Amy sprang up, chasing after it, shouting, "Doctor? Doctor, come back!" But when she got out into the hallway, everything was quiet. No TARDIS, no Doctor. "Please come back," she whispered, feeling the same awful loneliness she had as a child.

The sound of feet stomping in unison echoed up from downstairs, followed by Rose's voice screaming. Amy turned towards the stairs, but the figure of a man flickered into being in front of her.

"Poor Amy Pond, alone again." He wore the Doctor's tweed and bowtie, but he wasn't the Doctor.

"I know you, I know who you are," she told him cockily. "And this isn't anything to do with you. You're just another dream here."

The Dream Lord leered. "Bet your life?" In a flicker, he wasn't short and balding anymore, he was tall and young, with messy hair and a pointy nose. The boy from her dream, the one who'd given her the engagement ring. "Bet his?"

"I don't know you." The boy walked towards her, and she could see herself, clear as day, kissing him on a bench under a tree. And hugging him in the rain in Venice, and giving him back the engagement ring, because he'd never let her wear it, always afraid she'd lose it... Flashbacks, to things that never were. "You're just part of the dream."

"Am I?" he asked her, in the Dream Lord's voice. "But what's the dream, and what's real?"

"You aren't real!" Amy insisted, and pushed past him, running towards the stairs. Where her feet fell, grass sprung up, the banister became a tree under her fingers, but she ignored it and ran on, leaving a forest in her wake.

Edited 2010-07-27 03:14 (UTC)

One moment, Rose had been in the Armory, grabbing as much firepower as she could with the Duke and the Commodore. The plan had been clear- meet the group in the Common Room. Bring the weapons. Easy-peasy. So easy, she'd even been laughing, practicing the witty threats she'd throw the next time they saw their tormentor.

Then, a change.

Rose suddenly found herself alone on the stairs. She stood there for a moment, in between the first floor and the second. Strange. She didn't remember leaving the Armory. She certainly hadn't gathered all she'd wanted. Exhaling, Rose took a quick inventory of herself- a shotgun was on her back, held there by a rope strap she'd constructed with Leo. She remembered doing that. Okay. She could feel the weight of the small Bulldog revolver in her coat. Good. The Enfield was safely in her hand. The majority of the Armory, however, was unaccounted for. Her friends were missing, too. Rose shook her head, dizzy. The room felt dreary, or heavy, or... something.

Still not quite comprehending the wrongness of it all, the blonde began walking up the stairs. Only after a good 30 seconds of climbing, though, did she realize she wasn't actually moving. It was like being stuck on a treadmill. Rose couldn't get up to the second floor rendezvous.

Then, she heard it- the sound of steel. A chorus of stomping, robotic feet was echoing from beneath her, pursuing her brain. Her eyes went wide. This was the fear she'd named. Nothing she was holding could stop a Cyberman. Hoping, praying that she was still on the real staircase, Rose broke into an upward run. She cried out as she climbed, "'ello? 'ello?! Is anybody above me?!?"

Up, up, up went her legs. Her muscles burned, but Rose got nowhere. The stairs regenerated endlessly from an abyss above, spilling into an identical one below. The lonely companion was beginning to tire. Breathing hard, she stopped for just a moment to look back. Clanging in the dark was the unified, metallic march. Rose couldn't see them yet, but the Cybermen grew closer. Cybermen knew no fatigue. Having no solutions, she screamed, hoping the second floor could hear.

"Commodore! Duke! Can ya 'ear me? I'm trapped!!"

At her feet, springing up through cracks in the stairs, were little tufts of grass.

"SAM! DOCTOR!!!!!"

Edited 2010-07-27 11:19 (UTC)

As he advances toward the Common Room, the saber in Leopold's hand seems to grow terribly heavy. He swings it a bit, casting a glance behind him to see if his companions are all right, senses alert to anything that might be amiss. But the room has changed around him, and he is alone.

A warm swell of fear pools in his chest. He pushes away rising panic as he switches the saber to his left hand and pulls one of the pistols from his belt. As he looks down, he catches sight of bright, seeping red on his waistcoat and a sharp, burning pain suffuses his stomach. He drops the weapons and claws at his shirt. What was a mere bruise is now the bullet wound from his dream.

“This is a dream,” he says aloud, voice shaky but clear. “I am asleep, or drugged.”

“Quiet, boy,” snaps a voice behind him.

Leopold whirls, biting back a cry as the movement wrenches bullet-torn muscles. “You are not my uncle,” he tells the apparition as firmly as he can manage.

“Don't be absurd,” the figure, who looks for all the world like his Uncle Millard, orders him. “See what these contraptions of yours have come to? The death of a boy, and soon they will be the death of you. Why you bother with the things is an eternal mystery to me.”

Leopold casts around him for the weapons he dropped, but they have disappeared. He reaches for the remaining pistol in his belt with a trembling hand and levels it at the advancing shade. “You are not my uncle,” he tells it again, voice breaking.

“Does it matter who I am?” The form ripples, blurs, and Otis, his dear old butler, is standing before him. “You know I speak the truth. Goodbye, your grace.”

Leopold fights to hold the gun level with all of his quickly waning strength, but he cannot bring himself to pull the trigger on his truest friend in the world. Soon the gun grows too heavy and slips from his fingers. The figure of Otis merely watches him with a bemused smile.

Hot tears prickle at Leopold's eyes, and he blinks them back. “I know-” he begins, and then the floor seems to rise up to meet him. The pain in his stomach is numb now, his shirt soaked through as he crumples down.

His footsteps echoed in the hall as Castiel walked down it. Each footstep began to slow and eventually he stopped, pausing to look around. Confusion creased his brow and he parted his lips, unsure of what to say or how to respond.

Wasn't he in his room? Why had he decided to leave all of a sudden? Was he looking for the Winchester's? Maybe that was it, but he didn't recall actually getting up and leaving his room... he was just here. And he wasn't entirely sure where here was. Which hallway was this? What floor was he on?

A sigh of annoyance escaped him and his hand briefly rubbed the back of his neck. This might be another dream or false reality. If it was, he was trapped here until he woke up, and he ran the risk of encountering something dangerous. His hand reached into his trench coat and he found the bottle of holy water he'd prepared in the kitchen. At least this came into the dream with him. The bottle was tucked away again and he began walking, though the hallway seemed to go on forever.

It's night; the moon is barely visible, a waning nothing hidden away behind clouds. The sky is starless; if they're up there - and they may not be - they certainly aren't visible. Everything's cast in long shadows; the only thing clear is the crossroad.

Five dirt and gravel roads converge in one empty space, weeds growing along the center thanks to disuse and abandonment. No one's been here in a long time; perhaps no one should be here. And yet, several people are. There's a surge of relief; each thought he or she was completely alone, lost on this old and unused road, forgotten and unneeded. If they disappeared, no one would notice.

But there are others! That's cause for hope; others to be recognized, to offer help. Because as dark as the night is, as far as they are from any hint of civilization, that's what they need most: help.

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er, upstairs thread whooo! now with more wacky dream stuff

DOWNSTAIRS thread, edited to incorporate just a bit of Amy. :)

In that sleep of death what dreams may come?

A Hallway

FINALE