TDM #003

[bequiet]

TEST DRIVE MEME
You wake, standing. A thick, muddy red dust coats your skin and clothes - it sticks to your tongue and blocks your vision. Inhale and it chokes you, exhale and your breath puffs out in front of your face in a transparent maroon cloud. It tastes of copper, tangy and harsh. Movement is difficult, every limb tingles and aches. Look to your left, your right. Evenly spaced in each direction stands another person indistinguishable in every way from the next. You're disoriented and lethargic, unable to grasp onto a single thought. A pinprick of light blooms ahead and grows steadily larger; a door has opened.

Hands grip your wrists, push at the small of your back and guide you out of the darkness into a room with four walls and a thin, sagging ceiling. The plaster is peeling, the air is musty, and the floor is slick. White plastic piping juts up from the center and curves into multiple spouts, clean water flowing in uneven streams. Those hands pull your clothes off and clear the dust from your body, redress you in handsewn jumpsuits.

A finger is pressed to your lips. Kind eyes meet your own and a single word is whispered - hush.

Led out of the room in a line, you’re taken down a short hallway and into another, much larger room. There’s a woman waiting for you there, a child hugging her leg, and a cloth bag in her hands. She reaches in and pulls out a device, passes one to each of you. Once finished, she begins to move both hands in graceful gestures, a language. One of the people who helped you lifts their device and the screen lights up, tracks the woman’s hands. Letters appear on the screen and you understand the device’s purpose. She tells you what she knows and it’s not much.

This world is haunted. Noise attracts them, so it is not allowed. Communication is through body language, soundless writing, and the device. She tells you that your feet must be light and your mouth never used. There is a community outside these doors, where you can survive together, but only if you agree to one thing: complete and total silence. You'll have time to talk it over. Acceptance allows you to journey outside. The ground is marked in pathways of sand, lining the paths to each building and everywhere in between. You notice that the locals hold their devices always, aloft and glance to it often. It will not vibrate or make a sound to signal a message.

Notices appear. Rules. Guidelines. Feet on the sand and never anywhere else. To open a door you brush your fingers along the hinges - oiled and you may enter. If not, take the brush from the can sitting nearby and coat the metal with the dark liquid. You're to settle into your new home.

Caught me unawares
Content Warnings: Confusion, disorientation
Themes: Survival, horror, it's like groundhog day

The ending of the floor has caught me unawares. This must be the reason why I’m falling down the stairs.

That night, when you fall asleep, you dream of your life before The Quiet Place. At first it's the happiest moments of your life played on repeat, over and over. Everything good and sweet and fun. The second night, it's much the same. You go to bed anticipating another restful and pleasant sleep. But on the third night it changes.

For everyone, it starts the same. There's a long hallway with a door at the end. You walk towards it with nowhere else to go. You twist the knob and when you step forward, the floor ends and you fall. Falling lasts for seconds, minutes, or hours and when you land, it's with a jolt and a cloud of red dust all around you. There's someone else next to you, stumbling, coughing and choking on that familiar dirt that coats your tongue and mouth. When your eyes meet, everything blurs and you're falling again - this time, when you land, it's inside that dream from the first night. Only you're not alone. They're with you. The only way out is to experience the dream together. And when you do wake up, for real, that same red dirt is on your hands.

Falling down the stairs
Content Warnings: Confusion, disorientation
Themes: Survival, horror, it's like groundhog day

The ending of the floor has caught me unawares. This must be the reason why I’m falling down the stairs.

That night, when you fall asleep, you dream of your life before The Quiet Place. At first it's the worst moments of your life played on repeat, over and over. Everything bad and sour and awful. The second night, it's much the same. You go to bed anticipating another restless and dreadful sleep. But on the third night it changes.

For everyone, it starts the same. There's a long hallway with a door at the end. You walk towards it with nowhere else to go. You twist the knob and when you step forward, the floor ends and you fall. Falling lasts for seconds, minutes, or hours and when you land, it's with a jolt and a cloud of red dust all around you. There's someone else next to you, stumbling, coughing and choking on that familiar dirt that coats your tongue and mouth. When your eyes meet, everything blurs and you're falling again - this time, when you land, it's inside that nightmare from the first night. Only you're not alone. They're with you. The only way out is to experience the nightmare together. And when you do wake up, for real, that same red dirt is on your hands.

OOC
From your mods:

Please remember to mark your content in your starters or subject lines as material comes up. The threads on this meme can be used as game canon. Feel free to thread out arrival style meetings as well! If you have questions, pp the mod account, use the faq or comment below. Have fun!

NAVIGATION

---

Comments

Eleven "El" | Stranger Things

[voidmage]

arrival

[Hands everywhere. Touching, guiding, scrubbing her down to rid her of the red dust - she doesn't need a single thought to be afraid. It reminds her of the lab. Of papa's men dragging her to the Room to lock her inside. Even if El can't hold on that thought, her body remembers. Fights every inch of the way with her heels attempting to find purchase on the floor, arms trying to pull out of the hold. Her mouth open to scream, to plead but a hand is covering the sound before she even has the chance to release the tinest of one.

Fortunately, the lethargy means she can't use her telekinesis on the natives. That she can't throw them away or make them stop touching her. The most she's able to manage is to make the water pipes rattle a little.

It's not the Room. It's not the lab or the bath. Once she's freed from the dust with clean clothes, they let her go. Lead her down the hallway to another room. The instinctual panic settles as she shuffles down the hallway and leaves her wary of the woman waiting for her there. El's eyes glance down at the child but she's distracted by the device and the way the woman's hands move.

Words appear on the rectangular box, words that make it sound like she's somehow ended up in the Upside-down. Monsters drawn by sound, monsters who kill.

El is quick to nod to the request to be silent, anything to let her escape this room as soon as possible. She understands better than most what monsters can do. They aren't the demogorgon but there are other things that exist in the Upside-down.

Once released, El takes off - running along the sand paths to put as much distance as she can between her and the wake up room. Lights flicker as she races passed.]

falling down the stairs

[Welcome to the lab. There's a young child sitting at a table wearing nothing but a white hospital gown - their hair shaved and a set of wires settled on her head like a cap. Monitoring the child's brainwaves. On the table is a cage and inside the cage is a white cat hissing. Beyond the table is a large observation window with men in white lab coats. Only one man goes without, an older gentleman watching with a great deal of interest.

This is the man the child keeps glancing up to look at, before looking back down at the cat. The child keeps staring at the cat as if waiting for something to happen, eyes tearful before "no" - no, she won't.

It changes and two men have lifted the same child by the arms, walking down towards the end of the hallway with the child cries, struggles and screams - "papa" being called back to look at the same older gentleman. But the men don't stop, keep carrying the child towards a door. Only to open it to reveal a small room no bigger than a closet and toss the child in. But the men don't make it very far before one suddenly flies backwards hard enough to break the tiles on the wall behind him. The other's head twists at a horrible angle and a sickening crack can be heard. The girl lays there on the floor, seemingly unable to move before the older man appears in the doorway, his hands reaching out to lift her.

Again it changes. The child is standing in the middle of a pitch black place, gone is the hospital gown and in its place is a tan-colored piece. Bare feet splash in darkened water as the child moves towards the only visible thing in the space. It looks to be some odd-colored thing, two arms and two legs. A head. However moving closer reveals that it isn't human at all. A scream echoes in the empty space.]

wildcard

[Anything else!]

Arrival

[beyourzoomer]

[Max is walking down the sand path barefoot, as usual. She has shoes now, but she won't risk it unless it's absolutely necessary. She's done working for the day, but she's decided to venture out to the nearest abandoned houses off the new paths that have been laid down. She moves quickly, device in her pocket, but somehow, somehow she misses the girl running toward her until it's too late to avoid a collision.

She manages to stifle a surprised cry as she tumbles backwards, hitting the ground hard but somehow without much noise. It takes her a moment to sit up, rubbing painfully at her elbow and looking over to see the curly haired brunette. She looks about Max's age, and she also looks freaked out. She doesn't blame her.

She draws in a breath and pulls her device out, typing up a message and then showing to her.]

Are you okay?

falling down the stairs

[thechristmasnazi]

[ Isabel watches from the side, staying perfectly still so that she’ll go unnoticed. She’s horrified. If this is what this girl dreams about, then there’s a chance that this might have happened to her in the waking world. For her sake, Isabel hopes that she’s just a kid who has seen one too many scary movies.

All of it reminds her of what she saw her brother go through in the FBI’s white room. The tests that were practically a form of torture used to find out the limits of what his brain could do. It’s all so similar that it makes Isabel feel sick and scared for the girl. Is she an alien or is she something else altogether? Isabel watches more closely just to be certain.

As the men carry her off, Isabel charges after them, ready to rescue the little girl, but it seems that she is perfectly capable of saving herself. The older man passes Isabel and steps in and seems to have made his return to comfort the girl. Isabel has words for him, but bites them back, slipping back into the role of voyeur.

The scene becomes pitch black and Isabel lets out a startled gasp. Her eyes find the girl once again as she seems to walk toward some sort of monster. This time, Isabel can’t watch. She’s afraid the girl won’t be able to fight this thing. She hurries over to her side, placing gentle hands on her elbows, and murmurs in her ears. ]

Maybe we should get out of here. [ Her voice is slightly panicked, but she’s ready to use her own abilities. She thinks if anyone would understand them, it would be this girl. ] Would you like to go somewhere nice?

stairs

[deadboywalking]

[The funny thing is Will knows even before he sees the Demogorgon.

It doesn't make any sense, because he'd barely been conscious, the last time. The last two times. He'd been delirious, nearly dead in the shadowy version of Castle Byers, and he'd been out of his mind, controlled by the Shadow Monster.

But he knows it's her. He knows, on a level deeper than sight or sound. He recognizes her without needing to try. So even though he closes his eyes against the monster, he doesn't turn away. It's just a dream. It's not real. The only real things are him and --]

Eleven?

falling down the stairs

[353]

[ Mike doesn't know whether Eleven can see him. It's almost like he's nothing more than an observer at first. He's behind the observation window with the men in white coats. He tries talking to them, demanding to know what's going on, but they all ignore him. And then when Mike finally recognizes the man who steps into the room with Eleven, he starts banging his fists on the window, yelling her name through the glass. Not him.

Then they're in a hallway. He knows it's a dream - a nightmare - but it feels like he's witnessing memories. Mike chases the men carrying Eleven but goes through them like a ghost. All he can do is watch Eleven attack the men, not quite horrified because the men were bad, but sad that it has to come to that. Then Papa is back and Mike sees red. Don't touch her, you piece of shit, don't go anywhere near her--

Then another space, surrounded in darkness, floor wet. He hears Eleven scream and looks around wildly for her. ]

Eleven? Eleven!

Commander Jane Shepard | Mass Effect Trilogy (Station72 CRAU)

[earthborn]

I. The Arrival

[So, this is just how things are, now. At regular intervals, in lieu of actual informed consent or, god forbid, someone actually giving her a meaningful option to turn down the opportunity, Shepard gets to wake up, be undressed by strangers, and get told that it's this or... well. Death. And Shepard, she knows exactly how she feels about that.]

Oh for fuck's sake.

[Familiar too, is the wrenching nauseous feeling that someone has been messing around in her head without permission. Again. The bond, the unconscious teeming sense of togetherness that had come with the Station, was suddenly cut off and silent, like a migraine of inverse pressure, deep and distracting. She grit her teeth against it.

Talk it over, the woman says. As if there's a decision to be made.]

This... is not what I had in mind.


II. The Network
[It takes time to reconnect, to realize she isn't completely alone. Time to adapt. And, once she's finished playing around with the... omni....tool.... comm device? Well, she figures it out. And then, in a manner of speaking, she speaks.]

un: badassfully
Look, I'm not saying a police force is unnecessary, but please tell me we're not all falling in like dropping into an alternate universe and being told to shut up about it is normal.


III. Wildcard
[Come at me with something different! Feel free to contact me for plotting or just to chat.]

un: marcille

[manasponge]

It's definitely not normal, but... if no one here can truly be killed, then imprisoning them is the only way to keep them from hurting other people, right?

Short of killing them over and over.

[sizeofyourbaggage]

[ This is just how things are now, apparently.

Sam's only just barely found himself left to talk it over, too, and he'd mostly listened - but it was hard with a gaping emptiness in his mind where the Nest and all his connections are supposed to be. He'd slammed his walls up as hard as he can, hoping that maybe it won't feel quite as disorienting if he pretends like he's doing it on purpose -

But it's not working all that well. When he feels Shepard's presence it's not that his mind opens back up so much as they're just suddenly there, back in the places they belong. It's almost dizzying, but it doesn't stop him from grabbing hold. ]

( You think we'd get used to what we had in mind not mattering. ) [ He's already moving to find her, seeking out where her mental presence is strongest. ]

cerise laudeville ; original character.

[voidtini]

i; and may you be alive long enough to see twenty-five (unawares).

[ cerise's first dream is a good dream.

it's in dust tumbles - a small, small town located in what used to be known as the state's farmlands. the skies are bright and blue thanks to it being the spring season, the scent of the air is sweet and full of promise with sugar and spices also mingling their delectable aromas. every time a gust of cool air comes down the street, soldier's kisses petals wafts down the street while drifting and dancing in the air.

there's a street party happening at the moment, a small but lively group of people mingling and laughing with one another as they drank and ate themselves merry. tables have been set up in the middle of the street, the surfaces almost filled to the brim with foods and sweets and drinks that all have the look and quality of being made from home. music is being played from somewhere and the song is cheerful and loud, crooning about how they hope the person of honour will stay alive long enough to see twenty-five.

and a banner, one that reads 'HAPPY 16TH LOREM', hangs on the front of a house that is grand and proud despite signs of age and weather getting the best of it at times.

cerise smiles when she sees all of this, when she sees certain three figures running around a table filled with desserts. she tries to be subtle in brushing away the tears in her eyes. ]

It took me forever to convince my baby girl to the idea of this, you know?

ii; merry-go-round of horrors (falling).
content warning for child death. gruesome depiction of mutilated corpses.

[ the setting is a funeral.

it's a tasteful funeral. a gorgeous funeral where expense was not a problem despite the humble little church that was the current setting for the procession.

whoever died must have been loved very much to have such a procession thrown for them. lilies fill the room in vases and wreathes and dangling pots that hang suspended above the ceiling, the smell almost choking out the smell of candles and grief. the people here for the funeral, with their faces blurred and their cries echoing upon their own echoes in a strange and eerie loop, scream and wail from where they sit in the pews.

in the centre of the room are two open caskets propped up. large and glossy photos of the deceased stand by the caskets, showing a man and a young girl who must be related in some capacity due to having the same bright blue eyes and gentle smiles.

not that one can tell with the corpses that can be seen through the glass covers.

the bigger one has been mutilated beyond recognition, with chunks of skin and muscle stripped off or carved away with knives and teeth and nails. some parts of the body shows only sinew and bone while a large gaping hole in the middle of the chest continues to dripdripdrip blood and gore. the smaller one is- is almost impossible to describe with what's happened to it. it looks like its been torn apart from limb to limb, smashed into bits and paste, and burnt from the inside out. the head barely stays up from where its propped between what remains of the shoulders.

the only thing that hints to them being the subjects of the pictures are their eyes. their open and moving eyes that are still so bright and blue.

cerise sits at the front of the pews, head held high and refusing to look away from the condemning stares from the two in the caskets. the only time she reacts it when the priest finally says, 'to dust and rust, may hell condemn you in its fires, cerise' she stands up and begins to follow the long, long line of the still screaming figures out of the church's doors.

except she bumps into someone.

the change in her behaviour is instantaneous - it's almost like she snaps out of her dreams, the glossy quality in her eyes fading to show anger and confusion and offence at some stranger being here. ]

Who are you? Who the fuck are you?

iii; ye olde network prompt.

[ the name that appears on the screen is from pourdecisions ]

I could introduce myself but nah.

There are more pressing matters I have so I'm just going to say this once so:

Is there a steady source of alcohol here? Or am I going to have to brew some of the fun stuff all by myself?

iv;; wildcard!!!

[ want to do something else? use this prompt or hit me up via my hmd or my plurk, prognostic, if you want to plot specifics! ]

vanessa ives ( penny dreadful )

[possidetur]

( arrival )

( vanessa abides by the request for quiet, knowing all to well the dangers that monsters can bring. if noise attracts something here then she isn't going to tempt it, though she will try to find out more where and if she can. finding the device strange vanessa tends more to watch the hands of those here, though she has yet to have any success in deciphering the language behind them.

she gestures herself to those she meets, trying to grab attention, beckon closer. it takes a few promptings to remind vanessa to type on the device once she has someone )

( caught me unawares )

( she doesn't know that it's a dream. it feels real and for a moment vanessa believes that she's home, that the dusty quiet was all a dream.

what feels wrong about this, letting her know that perhaps she's not home, is the person with her. her dress is still out of place, wearing clothes that she'd been given in the quiet place, and with someone who's dress is equally unusual. they're not home. was it ever a dream?

vanessa offers the person beside her merely a glance before returning her gaze to the hall of sir malcolm's home, eyes searching for anything that seemed out of place or anything else that shouldn't be there )

Do you have a weapon?

( network )

How long have you been here?

caught me unawares;

[scarecrowed]

[ Lucas has no idea where he is, who the woman is beside him, but they do have one thing in common - the matching jumpsuits they're wearing. Though nothing about their surroundings suggest they're in Reims. He remembers falling asleep moments before, so unless the house has been soundproofed to protect them from the sound eaters, this had to be a dream.

He grips at the hilt of a sword inside a sheath hanging from a belt around his waist, arching an eyebrow at the woman. Yes, he has a sword. He's what many would call a swordsman. But what exactly does she wish him to do with his weapon? ]

Are we in danger?

wander; shadow of the colossus

[ruere]

[ ooc: spoiler warning! I know this game is 13 years old but with the PS4 remake out recently, some new folks could be curious about it, so a warning just in case! ]



arrival;

[ He's trying his best. Stay on the path, stay silent. It's hard to focus, his vision's blurry and dark around the edges, but it starts to get a little easier with every little step forward. Everything feels as though it's rushing past him when he plants his feet on the ground, feeling the sand grains between his toes. Slow and steady now, slow and steady.

When it does finally calm down enough that he can get a sense of his surroundings, it's the last possible situation he was expecting. The confusion is evident in his expression, the way he stops in his tracks the moment his vision clears and suddenly realizes that where he is, it's not where he should be. He shouldn't be in a city, surrounded by so many other people, obeying new rules lest a new threat emerges.

... admittedly it's not as if he knew for certain what exact fate it was that awaits him. He remains ignorant of the physical changes his own body has undergone since his last memory, the greyish tone to his skin and the small but certainly visible horns at either side of his head, but searching for a mirror wasn't exactly a priority.

When he remembers he's standing in the middle of the path and obstructing others, he's quick to get back on track, awkwardly shuffling and stumbling over his own feet as he starts his exploration. The city is strange, far stranger than any he's ever seen. The device in his hand even more so, taking up his attention more than the city's tall buildings and odd architecture. He can't quite figure it out, pressing letters and shapes in a nonsensical manner just out of his own curiosity and disregard for his close surroundings.

Suffice it to say, it doesn't take long before Wander accidentally bumps shoulders with another passerby. It surprises him, nearly to the point of dropping the device and just barely managing to keep from losing his balance entirely. He opens his mouth to apologize, but he's quick to clamp a hand over his mouth, remembering the rules: Stay on the path, stay silent.

-- he remembers the device and its purpose, then, and a proper apology is in the works. But it is a slow process, having very little experience with such a thing as he is. ]

sorry

[ And in the end it's not much of an apology at all. But, he tried. ]

Steve Rogers | MCU

[paragon]

arrival;

[ Steve remembers waking up at SHIELD and, this time, chooses not to fight his way out. Better not to panic, despite his apparent period of unconsciousness; he could still be in Wakanda. There are plenty of mysteries to it that he's never and maybe will never see. They're mostly not for his eyes, but that's also not always his decision to make. One thing's for sure, though: men of Steve's skin color were thinner on the ground there, and Wakanda's facilities were never anything short of state of the art. Even before the explanation comes, it doesn't take him long to figure out that he's likely somewhere else entirely.

He silently finds his way outside, not very surprised at this point to find the terrain so starkly different from where he came from. He's always been quiet on his feet, even when they were smaller, so watching his step isn't a problem. Part of him wants to make noise anyhow, just to see what he's up against for himself. But there are plenty of civilians wandering around in similar states of confusion and displacement, and he won't deliberately put them in danger.

Maybe some other time.

It takes him a bit, but he eventually recognizes the city. Germany surrendered here; that was after his time, he'd already gone down into the ice, but Reims was Allied headquarters for a good couple years before it. Steve made the trip here himself more than once. It looks worse now than it had toward the end of the war. He's been no stranger to destruction since then — been blamed for plenty of it, in fact — but he still takes some time to stand there and take it in, an expression of almost personal defeat on his face, if you look past the tension in his jaw. ]

caught me unawares;

[ With the disquieting (ha) reality of the dream, the sudden contrast in noise from the waking world is jarring: the shrieks of children, amongst other theme park sounds; the calls of the vendors; and drowning them all out the rapid ticking of the wooden rollercoaster under Steve's (your) feet, lurching around a turn. The grit of the red dust transfers from his hands to the rail in front of him, though he doesn't seem to notice it anymore since the initial fall, gaze fixed on the car in front of him and the two boys sitting there. One is tall, dark-haired and handsome, the other is small, light-haired and skinny. There's a momentary pause for breath where the train reaches a valley and slows before starting its rickety climb upwards again, and the blond boy leans over the side of his car to vomit.

Any disgust by the fellow riders is beat by the laughter of the brunet boy, and after spitting once more, deliberately, the blond one straightens to punch him ineffectually in the arm. "Jerk," he says. ]

Woulda been fine if I hadn't had all that cotton candy before riding.

[ Maybe he's got a point; it's not the most impressive roller coaster ever, certainly not by modern standards. Or maybe this is entirely inexplicable, since it's hard to see any resemblance from this angle between Steve and the skinny kid ahead of him. ]

falling down the stairs;

[ He's already coated the dance floor with the red dust from the bottom of his shoes, though he doesn't dance. The women swirling about him wear victory curls; the men wear uniforms. The band on stage plays upbeat jazz. Steve's not observing in this one; he's part of it, in his own brown officer's uniform, decorated in gold. There's something jarring about all of it: the music too fast, the laughter of the women too sharp, too desperate from the men. He flinches from the flash of a camera like one would from an explosion, the spill of wine on a soldier's chest looks like blood. A woman takes his hand and speaks to him, and they dance, the dust transferring to her hands, her blue dress, before she disappears from view. ]


( ooc: hit me up at jeeps if you want to talk! )

falling down the stairs

[monomachy]

[The fall seems to take forever, and when it finally ends, Diana doesn't know how she's gotten here. It's reminiscent of the gala at German High Command: people dancing, laughing, drinking. In a blink, she's wearing the dress she'd taken from the tall blonde woman. She reaches one hand behind her, feeling for her sword--it isn't there. As she brings her hand forward again, she sees red dust on it. Whether this is a dream or some kind of trick she doesn't know, but she's immediately on her guard.

Diana spots the dust on the floor, follows it. Something isn't right. The laughter nearly stings her ears. A man has wine on his uniform, and it reminds her of blood. There are flashes around her, like the camera in Veld, but somehow more blinding, disorienting. There are so many people, spinning around, their laughter like knives to her ears. She does not want to be here. The dust is everywhere.

It's on someone's shoes, the leather shiny above where the rusty dirt sits.

She looks up at him, brows drawn together. Does she know him? No. But she knows the dust. Uncertainty colors her features. His eyes are a familiar blue, and she finds her voice.]

What's happening?

[Her tone is too quiet among the grating laughter, as she can't bear to add to the noise. She lifts one reddish hand to her ear, trying to block some of it out.]

Erik Lehnsherr | XCU | OTA (CW drowning, Nazis and the Holocaust)

[magneticfields]

Arrival

[ This is different than the last time. Or any of the other times he went through a portal or was sent somewhere by the Ingress. The dirt was different. And deeply unpleasant in a way that traveling via Ingress never was. Also the silence. And the lack of familiar faces, whether from home or from Avagi.

He is, at least, back on Earth. France, if he is not mistaken. Though nothing like the France he remembers so fondly. He understands and accepts their rules easily enough, as well as the handheld device that strikes him as decidedly far less elegant than the wristband he had before, and goes about exploring the town.

Luckily, due to his ability to hover an inch or so above the ground, he's in no danger of making noise and is not bound to the sand paths. ]

Caught Me Unawares

[ The dream. He's drowning. Rage fills him, burning his blood hot, his thoughts focused on the rapidly-disappearing submarine. He can't do it. He doesn't care. Dying in pursuit of vengeance is good enough. The voice in his head is easy enough to dismiss as his animal instincts desperately trying to keep his body alive despite his rage driving him deeper into the sea.

Until arms wrap around him, and pull him to the surface. The man speaks. Erik answers. The words aren't clear, he doesn't really remember them until. ]

"You're not alone."

Falling Down the Stairs

[ He knew as soon as Schmidt offered him candy that something terrible was going to happen. He is so hungry the sight of it made him weak. But he knows that verything good here is a lie. Whatever bit of kindness or comfort one might scrounge up is paid for ten times over. So he holds out. Insists on seeing his mother.

It is a mistake. He knows that now. The terror rolls over him in waves, turns his bones to water. His abilities are gone. Maybe they were never there.]

Verstehen? [ Schmidt cocks the pistol. ] Eins...

[ He is blind with panic. He never had any powers. It was all a trick. Somehow. He reaches for them, reaches his hand out and nothing. ]

Mama.

arrival

[bossily]

[Clara's in the middle of trying to help wrangle a herd of children toward lunch when she spots a man that seems to be hovering above the ground. She excuses herself and hurries on after him, curious and eager to explore. It takes some work to start catching up, but eventually she gets in close. It's not like she can shout out to him, so she winds up taking a shortcut that ends with her stumbling directly in front of his path. She has to hop back and out of the way so he doesn't plow her right over.

He's..definitely hovering though. The sight of it makes her stare up at him in awe.]

Dyluck | Secret of Mana | CW: impending suicide

[pandorasfinest]

Falling down the stairs

[The illuminated, hard, metal floors, the walls, all humming in energy hot enough to raise the hairs on the nape of one's neck. It hints at something far more advanced than it should be, given the four people wearing (to most, odd) traditional clothes of vibrant colors, compared to Dyluck's silver armor. Dyluck is standing, eyes empty, body unmoving, next to a young-looking man with long pink hair, wearing a skull mask. The woman of the trio group at the doorway before them, with delicately pointed ears, long blond hair, and a pink dress, shouts, but the sound is garbled almost beyond comprehension.

[She calls his name, and that he hears: Dyluck.

[The young man with a sword and a bandanna doesn't say much, nor does the short person with feathers in their long, red hair. They are alright with letting the woman lead this encounter, in all her anger and desperation.

[The man with the mask, shakily, lurches for the unmoving Dyluck, muttering about needing a vessel, as his body starts to crumble apart.

[Dyluck himself closes his eyes, shakes his head, and shivers. It wasn't long ago that this memory occurred. His stomach roils unpleasantly. He knows what happens. He can still recall the pain so acutely, to mindi body and soul.]

"Dyluck! You can't let him do this! Resist him!!"

[The young woman pulls the unmoving Dyluck aside, and strikes out at the masked man with one of her knuckledusters, undaunted and desperate.

[Hearing the masked man groan in pain as his body falls apart even more rapidly, the Dyluck not of the memory looks up, and finds himself staring with regret at the woman defending the motionless him.

[He can't bring himself to say a word; he knows that in memories is the only way he can ever see her.]

Wildcard

(or do anything else. <3)

[butterflystrand]

What are you doing?

[ Hyuse's voice and expression were both cool; if he was moved by the memories unfolding in front of him, he didn't show it. ]

Don't you want to leave this dream? It doesn't seem like a particularly pleasant one.

[ Aside from the short horns curling out from behind his ears, Hyuse looked like a perfectly ordinary human teenager. Maybe a little on the skinny side. ]

buffy summers | the vampire slayer

[first_summers]

{ a r r i v a l }

[ It's not the weirdness of it all that bothers her, the red dust or the mysterious arrival, the creatures or no talking rule. This kind of thing is her version of normal, as twisted as that is; any day that goes by without something bumping in the night or trying to eat her is a pretty boring one, to be honest.

No, what bothers her is that she'd been looking forward to a little boring. They'd only just gotten to Cleveland to check things out, regroup and try to figure out what to do next, and now she's got all of this to deal with. Alone.

Well, there's no time like the present. Trying not to continually grimace at the horrible blue jumpsuit (whoever designed these things definitely had no eye for fashion), she makes her way outside, device clutched in one hand as she examines everything in sight. The buildings, the paths of sand, the signs... and anyone else who wanders by.


{ n e t w o r k } username: slayer
so is there a library around here?


[ Or wildcard me and throw something else my way! I blame it being 2:00am for the lackluster prompts. ]

[lovesbitch]

[ he nearly runs right into her on the sandpath, he was trying to read the map on his device. stupid- he's no cartographer but is that supposed to be...? wait, no that's a river. why is it telling him he's standing in a river? spike turns the phone right side up and lifts his eyebrows nearly to his hairline. oh. never mind. he's different than when she last saw him, and not just because he was all shiny with the flame of heroness. his hair is wild in curls without any product to tame it back and the yellow jumpsuit he'd been given is stained with red dust and sand around the hems, the sleeves of the thing ripped clean off. he also hasn't had a proper meal in weeks. which makes him even more unfocused than usual really.

upon nearly coliding with her, their shoulders brush and he intends to just keep pressing on. there's no way to say sorry unless he makes a deal out of syncing their devices, and like hell he's learned any sign language. but he's frozen, belatedly, as he takes her in: golden hair, slight pout, wide hazel eyes that look slightly greener as they catch the light; and maybe the blue against it all is helping the contrast. his unnecessary breath catches in as close to a noise as he dares to make, his gaze falling on her like he's never seen her before. ] Buffy. [ a whisper, but he can't help it. he doesn't even look to see if the monsters are coming for him. she's here. a hand stretches out, intending for his fingers to fall softly on her cheek. ]

logan / wolverine | xmcu | cw: death

[danzan]

ARRIVAL.

[ Typically, Logan spends more time than is necessary in the room where they're gathered. He goes through the motions of orientation and explanation without really understanding what they're trying to tell him; having spent the last few days of his life drowning, dying, and coming back to life, it's no surprise he's more than a little distressed.

Fortunately, distress to Logan translates to quiet brooding. When his mind starts working and he actually goes through the rules written on the device, he wastes no time in going outside.

Jesus. Last he knew of the world, he went back in time to stop some kind of apocalyptic future. As far as he's concerned, he thinks he's returned to 2023 -- and it bothers him, a little bit, that he can't recognise where he is. Is this even America any more?

Logan looks around, staring at everyone -- everything -- with furrowed brows and eyes a little frantic in lack of understanding. He opens his mouth as if to speak, but the way he's stared at by some people tell him that, shit, they're serious about silence here, aren't they?

So he types a message on his device and leaves it open, holding it up in front of him for anyone willing to read it. ]

What happened to all the mutants?

UNAWARES.

[ The happiest time of Logan's life goes a little like this: he's a child living in a big house in Canada, with parents who love him and a best friend who doesn't talk much, but always talks to him.

There are a few other moments interspersed in his best dreams, like meeting a girl who tried to sneak into his truck, and flirting with a doctor who for once wasn't trying to hurt him, and spending nights in a cabin in the Canadian Rockies with someone who loved him, but the best days of his life had pretty much gone like this: little Jimmy Howlett, aged twelve, on one of those rare days he isn't sick and father lets him go outside.

He's aware that he isn't really twelve years old, though. The taste of dust in his mouth is sick and ugly and filled with grit, somehow, and that's not something he'd ever tasted as a boy. But currently he's sitting on the grass outside the family manor, watching Victor try to fly a kite he'd fashioned out of a map from Jimmy's room (his father's going to kill them both for using it, but Jimmy really wanted to play).

Except. Watching the running figure, Jimmy -- no, Logan, recognises that it isn't Victor at all. It's someone else encroaching his dreams, his mind, his home, and he can't help but feel the slightest bit threatened. ]

Hey. [ His voice is deep, adult. Logan still feels dirt, but at least the words are coming out clear enough. ] Hey! What'd you do with Victor?

STAIRS.

[ There is rubble everywhere and most of it is on fire. This is an island, and Logan's spitting out red dust, and in his arms he holds the body of Jean Grey, sobbing because her body's still warm, but her eyes aren't open.

There are three marks in her stomach: three lines that blood oozes out of (one for each of his claws), dripping off her sides and coating Logan's trousers where he's fallen to his knees. He's holding her to him, crying, pressing his face into her temple, and he doesn't think anything has ever hurt him more. ]

Jean... [ She smells the same, but all her cells are dying. She feels so soft, but she won't be for long. Logan is miserable, broken because he's always wanted to hold her close the way he does now, but not like this. Not when the scent of her blood is so clear in his nostrils, so fucking pungent he might puke. ]

I'm sorry -- I'm so sorry, I'm so sorry...

Arrival

[magneticfields]

[ It is disconcerting, to be the only mutant there. Even after he has come to understand more about the history of this place, that this is one of the realities where there never were any mutants. He is there, now. And being the only one is isolating in a way that reminds him of parts of his life better left forgotten.

He knows when Logan arrives. The thrum of adamantium, shivering along his skin and into his fingertips. If only such a seductive thing wasn't attached to such a thorougly unpleasant person. Of course it's him.

He goes to where Logan is anyway, hovering about an inch off the ground as is now his habit. As much as he'd like to ignore him, he can't. You can't pick your family. He doesn't get too close, though. Keeping a distance that gives him enough time to defend himself if Logan tries to kill him. Again. ]

It's just us.

Hyuse | World Trigger

[butterflystrand]

network: un: lampyris
I believe I just died.

The experience was less painful than expected. I was hoping to regain consciousness in a state where I was able to objectively evaluate myself, but that didn't happen.

If you'd like to question me before I have a chance to forget more details, now is the time.

[nishizono]

did you talk like a robot before death too?

rey | star wars

[purpose]

arrival

[ She nearly fights her way through the small swarm of unfamiliar faces that greet her. Nearly; the hands that poke and prod and strip her of her clothing bear the brunt of her lethargic attempts to fend them off, like a panicked and cornered creature, but it only takes her a handful of moments to realize what their intentions are: helpful, if not misguided.

Her mood is by no means calm, still rankled and bristling at the edges, but it's softened from the fight-or-flight instincts that had overtaken her upon waking — when her lungs had been burning with red dust, not so dissimilar from Jakku's sandstorms. But this isn't Jakku, though the quiet that greets her when she steps outside and into this strange world reminds her too many nights spent alone, listening to the wind beat against the walls of her AT-AT. Her initial instinct is to avoid contact as much as possible as she would in the desert, distrustful and wary; she takes to a lesser traveled sandpath, mouth pinched into a pensive frown, until she happens upon the first face she's encountered since stepping outside.

Hesitating, she smothers the urge to call out. If what they've warned her of is true, she isn't willing to risk it, absurd as their threat of danger had sounded upon waking. She wavers in place instead, clearly trying to make a decision, before she approaches with body language that speaks to how tense and skeptical she is — poised to scurry away or defend herself at a moment's notice, if needed. ]

Are you real?

[ The message flashes across the screen as she holds up the device for their eyes. It feels like a ridiculous question to ask, but this feels too close to a fever dream for her to trust it. ]

falling down the stairs

[ The red dust blends into the dunes of Jakku, crunching beneath her feet where she stands. The dream, as it always has, reverts her to a child — a sickly thin a slip of a thing, three buns gathered at the back of her head. She can feel her arm beginning to bruise as though it were more than a relived memory, seized by Unkar Plutt's grip as she tries to run and run and run, only to be wrenched back.

The ship overhead is deafening, a blur of bright lights and the whirl of an engine. Beneath it, Rey can hear her own shrill voice, repeating what she had wanted to believe: I'll come back, sweetheart. I promise. — and then the louder pitch of her shrieks beneath the desperation of her sobs. Come back, come back as Plutt orders her to be quiet and grasps her tighter.

And then she's older within the blink of an eye, a woman of almost twenty, and Plutt is still there — and she is still waiting, and waiting, looking up at the same sky with blurred, swimming vision as she tries to wrestle herself free from Unkar's hold with a hissed out, ] Let go.

network (un: raeh)

Do you ever wonder why you were chosen to come here?

[ Short and simple and to the point, for however probing it is. Certainly there has to be a rhyme or a reason as to why she's here — as to why any of them are here. ]

network; un: ghost

[voidmage]

no this is where my friends are
i should be where ever they are

[To protect them from monsters.]

Lady Maria | Bloodborne

[rakuyo]

Falling down the stairs

[Awakening in a dream, for Maria, is no oddity. She woke countless times before, knowing the world around her couldn't possibly be real or true. Forging onward despite this was the only way. There was no other choice, after all. You live in whatever reality your mind and consciousness occupy, dead, alive, awake, or asleep. Maria was long resigned to this... or so she assumed. Time was lost to her when she left her body, unsure if she had been dead for years, hours, or mere seconds.

Last she knew, she had perished within the nightmare, at the hand of another Hunter. From there, a hallway. Another nightmare to traverse. Red ash, mist, falling through pure disorientation... she saw another form, nobody she recognized, then she felt herself land somewhere familiar.

Slumped in her chair, Maria was still as a corpse. The ornate seat was face away from an enormous clock tower face, in a cathedral like room lined with flickering candles. She felt another, across from her, unsure how far. The Hunter back again, so persistent. Had they not already defeated her? Her memory was too blurry to recall.

Lady Maria stood, lifted her double bladed weapon, and broke it into two short swords with a menacing clang of metal. Lifting her head, her eyes looked out cold beneath the brim of her hat. Both arms outward, swords pointed away and ready to swing, she approached the new person.

A repeat of her worser nightmare, her vision unfocused, not certain if this was an enemy she was facing... or not. The village, the secrets, she needs to protect them. At any cost.]

[dryeyes]

[On some level, he knew it wasn't his dream. His dreams were realistic. Logical. None of them involved an endless hallway or falling into this.]

[The environment and the taste of that iron-red dust in the air reminds him more of Reims than home. So, he was already hostile to whatever force had pulled him in. It only vaguely dawns on him that both of them could be a victim. To him, he sees a stranger, a stranger with a weapon, and need to react accordingly.]

[He still had everything he had with him in "reality."]

[So, his hands come to up tug at one of the wraps of his capture weapon. They loosen and seem to move a bit of their own accord.]

[He doesn't initiate. He waits. If he can't have an ambush, the next best thing was a reaction, to play off someone else's attack.]

Luke Cage | The Defenders / MCU Netflix

[youcantfixme]

Arrival
Luke Cage wasn't a stranger to... well, the strange. His life took one crazy turn after another. First, it was suddenly having unbreakable skin and super strength when others had died in the same experiment performed on him in prison. Then he met Jessica Jones with a similar gift to his, her strength besting Luke's. Along with Jones came the psycho with mind control (Kilgrave) who fated the two to meet.

Recently, Luke had reunited with Jessica and a couple other New Yorkers that also had super powers. The four had teamed up to fight against The Hand who were intent on destroying New York City. One of the four was lost but the city was saved. And now Luke Cage found himself somewhere that sound wasn't allowed. He was warned about being killed, regardless of his impenetrable skin and super strength.

"Sweet Christmas," Luke thought to himself leaving the reset room to where he could find housing.

Falling down the stairs
Luke had yet to explore or understand Reims when he'd fallen asleep and found himself in some nightmare stuck on repeat. The dream brought him back to Seagate when he was a prisoner. He was fighting and losing himself. Reva couldn't reach him. His mind was a dark abyss, feeling he had nothing to fight for.

Suddenly he found himself on the table in the experiment that killed a series of others and went through the painful procedure. Someone was with him that Luke had not remembered from before. That same person was at the fights, Luke could swear it.

If those two memories weren't bad enough to relive in a dream, he suddenly found himself facing off against Jessica Jones in the fight that led up to her having to fire off a shotgun at his head so he'd stop. Luke knew better but couldn't stop himself or change the outcome. The shot rang off and he was back at Seagate, brawling.

"Always forward. Never backward," he mumbled to himself.

stairs

[oorah]

[ frank castle was no stranger to a prison brawl. though his had been more of a bloody massacre. he doesn't fight against luke, but at his side, mowing through one stacked shit brickhouse after the next. he cuts them down like they're nothing, his brain and his heart and his soul in the fight as he screams out in rage. he can sense that luke isn't in it the way he is though, and when he finally looks at him, face and uniform caked in blood, the scene drifts effortlessly away.

he wakes up strapped to the table alongside luke, flashing a fearful glance his way. he's endured torture before, but this is agony. he strains against his bonds and bites his lips against crying out, but soon his screams match luke's and he can't remember anymore why he was trying to stay quiet. they both open their eyes and take a breath and for a moment it's like he is luke cage. he feels everything the other man feels, and when they break free it's as one unit, now indestructible. being bulletproof sure would have come in handy before, but he doesn't have time to think about it before the curtain closes again.

and then it's act III: he isn't with luke this time and he isn't luke either. he's been relegated to the sidelines; the bench of the shitty dreamworld. he hears a familiar voice and his fists clench along with his jaw, a vein bulging from his throat menacingly. kilgrave. because of course it is. who else would turn up to ruin his day. or night...? he looks down and his prison jumpsuit has been replaced by his tailormade black one from reims, along with tall scuffed combat boots and a plain black beanie to cover how overgrown his hair is. this isn't like the other dreams because he's aware of what's happening, that this is another one of those trippy dreams he's observing and it's once again his responsibility to get them out.

the last thing he expects is jessica. she looks more broken than he's ever seen her as she grapples with luke, sobbing for him to stop but it's no use. frank knows what's going to happen before it does, and he flinches back when jess shoots him, hearing his own voice carry a No! but it's too late. and what could be done besides? he hears kevin's awful villain laugh and his face wrinkles up in disgust even as he runs to jessica's side. but it's too late, the whole depiction disintegrates out from under him before he can get there, her cries carrying them both back to prison.

they're pitted against one another this time, and he gets a few ineffectual hits in before the other inmates start to fade away. so too does the room around them and reerected piece-by-piece is the shopping mall he's been renovating into a jail with jessica, but she's not here. no one else is, but they're still fighting. none of his blows touch the other man, and the harder he hits the more bruised his wrapped hands become. and when luke finally swings back, it knocks him on his ass, his skull cracking loudly as it ricochets off the vinyl floor. the sound eaters will come, it's the last thought he has before slipping under the rising tide of unconsciousness. ]

billy kaplan / young avengers (616)

[assguardian]

01. arrival

---

[ red dust, everywhere. there's dust in the crevices of his ears, billy finds, and caught in his eyelashes where they blur his vision. his body aches and there's a stranger speaking to him like he's a spooked beast, and maybe they have the right idea. she? is she human? who is this person trying to get him on his feet?

billy manages a quiet thank you when the woman helps him up, and he thinks: she has gentle hands. gentle, like his mother, but firm. they're in a room that's soundproofed from what billy can tell, hearing no sound filtering in through the walls. the walls are bare, as if perfunctory in their existence, just there to mark spaces and do little else but that. this world is haunted, the woman says. noise attracts them, so it is not allowed.

no noise. billy, though still confused, understands this much from the harried speech of the woman. she's done this before, he thinks.

she asks him if he agrees, and he nods. he walks out into the dust and makes his way to where she leads him, where he sees a crowd forming. there are others like him - foreign in this place that looks a european ruin. he stands there, taking in the whole strangeness of the scene for a good long minute, before he pulls back the makeshift hood of his cape-jacket, and taps the nearest person he can reach, attempting to communicate this:

do you know where we are? ]

02. network

---

username: semiurge

has anyone seen a teenager with white hair? probably moves really fast? if you've seen or met him, please let me know, especially if he's hurt. he's my brother and i've been looking for him.

tommy if you're reading this: where are you, and where have you been?

[hairington]

[ steve remembers what it felt like - the overwhelming sense of uncertainty, the heavy feeling of the dust, stepping out into something he can no way of conceptualizing, let alone understanding. he'd stumbled through it with the help of a couple of...well. thirteen year olds. but the circumstances around his own ideas of who is in the know and who isn't are a little backwards.

still, that feeling is familiar enough to know that he needs to at least try and help if he sees others going through it. and while he's not exactly in tune with how things work around here, not exactly sure of - really - anything, when he sees a crowd forming, he moves to join.

the tug and his hand and the almost desperation to communicate has steve immediately pulling out his device, motioning that the other boy should have one too. trying to communicate look at your screen while he types up a quick reply himself. ]

you can use this to talk to people

[ aka...he didn't quite catch what that original question was, but maybe this will help? ]

elektra natchios | mcu

[blacksky]

arrival;

[It's like something out of her worst nightmares. Everything is harsh and heavy. She can't move much if at all. The people near her are in a similar state. She tries to call out for Matthew, but ends up choking on copper instead.

People come to help her. That's what scares her most as the strip her of the clothing she put on for this final fight. They're a connection to him. She's alone now. Don't take this from her, she wants to beg them. The last time she choked. Elektra is too smart to make the same mistake twice or highlight her weakened state by begging.

She lets them wash and dress her. She plays a perfect doll like she did with the Natchios, malleable and docile. It occurs to her this is probably Hell around the time she's being shuffled into a line. It makes sense. She's killed so many in the war. Why would a final act to save the man she loves negate all that violence?

Really the explanation does nothing to change her mind. She agrees to their terms and leaves quietly. She needs to be alone. She needs to think about what this means or rather how she's going to survive an eternity alone in silence.]

falling down the stairs; cw: child abuse/endangerment; death

[It starts with a fight. A little girl squares off against a man; knuckles already bloody as other down men surround and strike her. It's unsettling to anyone who cares anything for children, but to her it's normal. She fights and down them one by one even when they come back to pull her hair, kick her side, and so on. It's clear none of them take her age into account. They go at her without mercy.

The fight is stopped by a blind old man, but only to correct her punching style as she explains her anxiety over a strange man watching her.

He sends her out to fight again: this time the younger of her attacker kisses in her direction while another punches her. This time she goes off. One by one they go down again without getting up except for the one who played at kissing her at the start. He grabs her from behind, but it changes nothing. She soon fends him off, pulling him into a headlock with her legs and repeatedly punches him until stopped by the old man. He pulls her away and forces her calm down with breathing exercises. He whispers nice work into her ear before the scene jumps ahead.

The little girl is training alone when the young man she beat up earlier appears. He circles her as she starts to sincerely apologize for not stopping her attack sooner, for taking it too far, when he pulls out a knife. She stops apologizing and they fight. He slashes at her without mercy, but in the end he can't hold a candle to her. She disarms him and slits his throat in the heat of the moment. The man who watched her earlier enters.

The scene jumps ahead again. She's in a cage, bloody, and watching the old blind man and the watcher argue over her. The watcher makes it clear: she's a thing that needs to be destroyed. He calls her 'it' repeatedly and chastises the blind man for keeping her, like she's a disobedient pet. He takes out a sword to kill her and makes it clear that's what he intends to do. The old man stops him with the promise he'll do it before killing the other man and letting the now terrified little girl out of the cage. It's time to go.

The scene jumps ahead again. The little girl is all grown up. She's still with the old man and now a costumed man... who some may recognize as Daredevil. Daredevil promises to turn himself over to secure their freedom only to be denied by an older Japanese man and his ninja soldiers behind him. They need it. The woman, Elektra, doesn't hesitate to threaten to cut them in half for calling her that. The man threatening them dials it back and tries to play nice. He tells her she isn't a girl anymore, using her name this time as he talks to her. He finally sheds light on the scene from earlier albeit slowly. He asks her who they are, the Hand she answers, he asks who they serve, the mystical Black Sky she explains in less flattering terms. He explains how badly they've wanted her for years, how she was stolen by the blind old man, and that she is the Black Sky. She's their greatest living weapon.

Elektra is in denial, Daredevil as well, as he inches closer to her steadily out of the corner of her eye. The man threatening them offers her his sword as Daredevil begs her not to listen to him. It's a trick, illusion, they're going to use her. Elektra isn't focused on him. She looks to that old man and all the hurt comes to the surface. He told her she was out of control. Daredevil still tries to get through to her. They can't tell her who she is, he pleads. Elektra considers it as she visibly breaks down. It explains everything, doesn't it? She accepts the man's sword as she asks the old man if he knew all along. Her breakdown continues. This is why her comrades hated, why everyone comes to hate her in time. Daredevil doesn't give up. He keeps trying to get through to her by pleading she has a choice, he's still the woman he knows. Elektra challenges that while the older Japanese man preys on the moment. He offers her a home. They live and die to serve her, he explains in Japanese and bow to her again.

Daredevil starts again, but Elektra cuts him off. She explains she studied this as a child so that she could be the one to destroy the Black Sky someday. There's no fighting it though, is there? The Black Sky is destiny. Daredevil doesn't let him get off this time even as she screams at him to leave. He refuses even as she threatens him with the sword. This may be her chance, to be loved he asks, yes she insists. He tells her not to let him get in her way and walks towards her blade. She immediately pulls it back as he explains he's the Hand's enemy. She has to kill him if she's with them. She can't kill him. She never could which is clear by the way she shuts her eyes and tries so hard not to cry.

The scene skips one last time. She's fighting again and it's dark. It's impossible to see anything, but a blade going towards a man shaped like Daredevil... and what happens next goes by in a second. Elektra steps in front of the blade and crumbles. Her nightmare finally stops.]

[oorah]

[ as it starts, frank knows he isn't really there. it's becoming easier to sort the reality from dreams like these. he doesn't think he knows the girl, but she's younger than even his lisa was, or than leo is. but she carries herself like a woman already, and not just a woman but a soldier; an assassin. it makes his stomach roll tumultuously to see grown men come at her that way with abandon and without restraint. they're directed by one man who projects father as much as he does owner and that makes him sick too. he's frozen there, knowing he can't affect what happens next, but he already wants to snap the guy's neck.

when the scene refreshes, the girl is negligibly older but no less ruthless. if anything, she's more and the men are taunting her now. he knows that won't end well for them even before the fight begins, and he's still not sure if he can intervene but he's confident in the knowledge that he doesn't have to -- she'll survive. this time, he lunges at the old man, but the scene changes again before he can connect.

when the man reappears, frank is angry. furious even. his fists clench at his sides and he knows that she'll best her attacker. he hates that she has to when he wants to do it for her. but everything goes too fast and he's rendered useless again by the rapidly changing dream. he isn't even sure if she's seen him, if she knows he's there yet. but she will soon.

the cage is too much. that's enough. this is what he was made for, body and soul. he bides his time, but only just, waiting for the older man from before to kill the other. interesting, but not good enough. he's still defending an asset rather than a child. the second he unlatches the cage, frank bursts forward, tearing into stick like so much cray paper. he goes down in a sea of red, his heart spurting out onto frank's face and dark jumpsuit. he holds onto his shirt to keep him upright, breathing deeply through it as he watches the man die. like it's therapy for him, and in a way it is. he turns to the girl and they meet eyes for the first time. he knows she sees him, and he holds out his bloodied hand as her father hits the ground. he takes her some place she will be loved.

it's the lieberman's on some big holiday, everyone laughs and drinks and frank is the happiest of all. the murderous man from before is gone in favor of a happy-go-lucky family man. the weird uncle who would do anything for his friend's kids. and this new adoptee who reminds him of the broken kids in reims he tries to help. soon the happy scene is broken up by men in masks, and they gun everyone down. except for frank and elektra. he meets her eyes again and wonders why she was spared, but they're jumping again.

matt is there, and elektra is older now. he doesn't place her right away, but he's back on the sidelines like the film reel has started over in the middle of the movie. people think she's an object again, they want her to be who they want her to be but that's not how it works. they had done the same to frank castle and look how that had worked out for them. the hand. ninjas. he's starting to understand, but the scene disappears from under his feet this time.

he's on the opposite roof, his punisher garb hidden behind a sniper rifle. he hesitates the way he's never done before, and their eyes lock for the third time. because he's seen it before, because he knows which man is responsible, frank is able to take him out this time. his head opens up over daredevil and elektra, but she's spared again and he nods. he finally got something right even if matt is giving him the soap eye. fuck that, and fuck all of this. he mows down every enemy that comes for the pair until they lie in a jumbled heap of death. matt says it isn't the answer, but then why does he feel so righteous. he saved them, it's what he should have done the first time around.

matt and all the bodies melt away and it's frank and elektra on the rooftop alone now. he swallows and signs Sorry. this wasn't how it was supposed to end, was it? he's fucked everything up. daredevil said she comes back, that frank was never supposed to save her anyway. but he couldn't bear the thought of anyone hurting her again. ]

damon salvatore | the vampire diaries cw: violence

[torridity]

Arrival;

[ Damon doesn't like it, not one bit, when he wakes up covered in dust. Nor does he like it when he feels hands pushing and pulling. And when he's undressed, well, he flirts a bit - no a lot - but things happen a little too fast and he's just a bit too dazed from god knows what.

It's not until he's in a room with someone explaining what's happened that he finally can collect himself to crack his typical sarcasm. He's still reeling, and it's a rare occurrence, what the hell did they drug him with? And who did it? His mind goes to Stefan, but something about it doesn't feel completely right.

He looks down at the jumpsuit and cringes. At least they didn't take his ring. ]

Really loving the kidnapee side of things, but you really made a mistake this time.

[ He's still feeling woozy, or the fight he'd put up, trying to push past these people would be a lot more vicious. Feel free to help or stop him as he tries to maim the locals. ]

Network;

un: salvatore

this is real cute, but where's the nearest bar?

network

[assguardian]

that's your first concern? "where's the alcohol?"

lorna dane | the gifted

[ferrokinetic]

arrival;

[ the taste of copper is a familiar one. but the air around her feels...wrong, somehow. fear. disorientation. foreign hands on her, coaxing her forward.

lorna panics and lashes out with her powers, because that's what she does. mutants have fight or flight burned into them more deeply than your average human, and 'flight' stopped being an option the second she joined the hellfire club. her fear and anger at not knowing where she is manifests alongside her powers. the sudden wrench of metal causes a similar panic in whoever's nearby. ]

Get away from me.

[ her voice shakes, but there's violence in that statement too, a shove as she lunges to her feet, then pitches forward, choking on dust. someone grabs her, says they're only trying to help, and she kicks them off too. when she rubs her cheek, her fingers come away gritty and red.

more hands pile on, pinning her arms back and dragging her forward, into a dank room with a sagging ceiling. great. the piping's all plastic, which just makes her thing - they were ready for her. they planned this. ]

So what, this is where the waterboarding happens?

[ she seems suddenly a little chipper for someone who expects they're about to be tortured. and sure enough, when the hands attempt to undress her, she snags one by the wrist and drags it toward her, pinning the hand at an awkward angle. ]

I'll break it. Just try me.

network;

so everyone around here lives half a life in fear of the boogeymonsters
even though you get reset/brought back?

ever consider there's worse things than dying?

[ so says this hot topic-looking motherhugger. look, in her world, the consequences were real and death was everywhere, so one can hopefully forgive her being slightly judgmental.

and if not, well. she's hashtag not here to make friends. she has a war to fight. and win.]

wildcard;

[ u want a dream prompt or something different, just let me know! ]

network; un: socorro

[warfares]

Yes.

And the locals aren't reset.

Raven Darkholme | X-men Movie Universe | ota

[personify]

a. welcome to my world

[Raven isn't one to take situations lying down. Several of the natives will have broken noses and split lips by the time she's done with them. When she wakes to find strange people pawing at her, all the while choking on red dust, her instinct is to retaliate and fight until she can escape. Finally, they'll get her to calm down, but the anger comes again when they try to strip her of her clothes and give her some hideous white jumpsuit.

Problem being the red caked X-men uniform she appears to be wearing? It's not actually a uniform. What use did shapeshifters have for clothes? Finally, she can only sate their insistence by shifting them away to their great surprise. She doesn't need your clothes, thanks. Although they do hand her the jumpsuit, insisting she take it while staring openly at her baffled as well as startled by nakedness.

When she's finally let go, free to roam this new awful place, Raven will exit looking very much unlike her blue self, but blonde and seeming to be wearing a nice fashionable (by 80's standards) acid wash jeans, crimped hair, and Blondie band t-shirt and clutching a white jumpsuit, which she promptly tosses aside.

Now to figure out where she really is. She'll approach the first person she sees, approach purposeful and expression firm as she pulls out her device. No bull-shitting her.] This place. What is it, really?


b. Caught me unawares

[This dream seems like another life at first. One she barely remembers. But it's her. And Charles. She's young, but she's been on the run for so long. No one ever shows her kindness. Not until him.] You're not... scared of me? [She doesn't dare believe it, but Charles is so kind. He doesn't kick her out of his home for stealing. For impersonating his mother just to get some food. Doesn't call her a freak.]

It's an idyllic life or so it seems in this dream. Charles treats her like a sister. But she's not like herself anymore. Blonde... adorable, or so her new mother would call her, pinching her cheeks. They play in the giant mansion. It's her and Charles against the world. She gets to go to school (not quite so fun). But she gets a family. She feels loved.

The next night the dream comes again. She's chasing after Charles in a park, laughing as she goes. She thinks someone might be beside her. The part of her mind that knows this isn't real wonders what it means. But the young Raven turns instead laughing, blonde hair blowing in the wind around her face, as she shoves the person with a hand and takes off to where she's seen Charles running.] Tag! You're it!



c. Falling down the stairs: CW: Death, violence

[The dream of the past few nights comes again. It starts much the same. Charles and her. A nice life she never thought she'd have. But it's colored differently somehow. Instead of all the nostalgia and joy of her time with her brother as a child... all the negative memories start to hold sway and fall down over her like an avalanche and move her forward in time.

Charles makes her hide. She can't be herself. Raven pulls at her blonde hair, yanking out a few strands. She hates it! Why can't she just be herself? Why does everyone fear her? He can't even look at her when she looks like herself. Is she really so hideous?

Then she leaves him, dares to hope in Erik's dream because he doesn't make her hide. She believe in the Brotherhood. But Erik leaves too. Each of the others die. Leaving her behind to pick up the pieces. She's crying, holding tight on a crying bundle in her arms, the rain drenching her a the blue tailed baby just born. People are chasing her, a mob to kill the freak. She needs to run!

Some one is gaining on her and she screams, moving to strike them with her free hand] LEAVE ME ALONE!



Network
UN:darkholme

[She's finally settled in here, but still doesn't quite believe everything she's been told. But clearly the others believe it and she's heard stories of these Sound Eaters ripping people apart. Of the damage they reap. Which is why she's not out in the streets screaming at the top of her lungs just to test the truth of it. But she does have questions.]

What are everyone's theories on what these Sound Eaters are? Were they once human? Thoughts on how we might fight them?

un: gamora

[unspokenthing]

Do you have a theory? If what everyone is saying to be true about them. Fighting them could be tricky. All the sound would alert them.

[ A plan would need to be brought up. Gamora though doesn't have all the details or information. She is glad though that Peter wouldn't be around to play music loudly. It would only make the Sound Eaters come, drawing them towards the noise. She would fight the Sound Eaters though. She would take on anything if it meant protecting everyone else. ]