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Sep. 24th, 2015


[log: tony & selina]

Who: Tony & Selina
What: A dream, 'cuz he's kinda dead.
Where: Um. His head?
Warning: Unlikely. PG13.

Blue icicles of power dripped down from the shadowed ceiling of the cave. )

Oct. 6th, 2014


dream: eddie/crane

[Dreaming didn't quite work the way it used to for Eddie Nigma. His mind was a maze that was now open for all sorts of spirits to try and navigate. Some nights he had dreams where he was sitting behind his old gumshoe desk waiting for ghost after ghost to whine about some messed up way they died. He used to investigate murders and crime scenes. Now it was all about putting the spirits to rest or simply listening to them complain. In the Fairy Tale door they were almost exclusively witches, warlocks and the occasional martyr king. They'd ask: You understand, don't you? He used to be a thief, a cheat. And, sure he did understand. He sometimes even had sympathy to share depending on how they managed to piss off a certain knight in shining armor. Most of the time? He told them to take a number.

Tonight he was sitting behind his desk with his feet up as the blinds shined dusty slivers of light down on him. He was in Riddler green with that silly bowler hat and his purple gloved hands behind his head as he tried his very hardest to balance a pencil on the tip of his nose. The clown held the record at two minutes because he could do it with his eyes closed. Eddie always went crosseyed a minute or so in. His secretary (who was Stephanie back when she had short hair for some reason) said there was a new client waiting for him and Eddie shouted to let the man in. Eddie tilted his head back and went back to balancing the pencil. Murmured:] So, how did you die? [Eddie asked because it was always a fun little opener.]

Sep. 24th, 2014


Who: Jonathan Crane & Becky Lyons
What: A meeting in a dream
Where: Dreamland
When: Recently
Warnings/Rating: TBD

He wasn't the same as he once was. )

Jun. 27th, 2014


dream, closed }

Who: Arizona Robbins & Henry de Foix (The Beast)
What: Shared Dreaming
Where: Arizona’s Nightmare
When: June 27
Warnings/Rating: Beware of blood and plane crashes!

The noise was indescribable, metal rending itself apart, the scrape of branches and the brushing of leaves, fire burning, fast and hot, smoke curling up through the trees, thick and dark. )

May. 24th, 2014


log: joey & ella, in a dream

Who: Joey & Ella
What: We found dreams in a zombieless place.
Where: Dreamland.
When: Now(complete).
Warnings: None, but some sads.

She ran until her lungs heaved, and hurt and her feet slapped at the ground, and the hallway expanded and contracted like a concertina, door after door that they flew through, pale-washed green walls and antiseptic smell and swinging doors until the last set they burst through, it wasn’t the hospital at all. )

May. 9th, 2014


Dream: Chloe/Jude

[It was the third dream possibly, and Jude was starting to understand. He could feel the difference, the lucid aspect of being aware and looking around with knowing eyes. It didn't stop the dream from existing or being strange. He blinked a few times, blurry, and looked around. It was the Harvard library. He spent many an hour in there; Jude was a brilliant young man, but he strived for the very best grades. He made connections, sucked up to professors, went to the right events. But none of that mattered too much if he lacked the education he so searched for. The library was empty, however, which never happened. All the frantic and manic students gone, just like that. Unreal.

Jude stood and wandered throughout the hallways. The book shelves were knocked over. The pages scattered on the floor. Ripped or torn, or tossed in the wrong places. It was a disaster, the library, with lamps flickering and the phone off the hook at the front desk. Jude felt like this could easily head into zombie territory again, it had the feeling of a horror film, and he sighed. Could very well be he'd keep dreaming himself dead. Unless he could learn to control them, which hadn't happened yet. He was wearing a suit at least this time. He hated dressing casually, even in dreams, his suit was armor. He stepped on a picture and frowned, leaning town to pick it up.

It was a picture of a beautiful young woman, with long dark hair, with a smile and eyes that weren't shadowed and sad.] Chloe. [He said softly.]


Dream: Billy and Wanda

[Even in her dreams, she cannot escape her prison. The four outer walls remain transparent, with the only opaque side being the divider between her and her brother. He wasn't there now, there was no noise from the other side of the room and if she could see it into it, she would know it was empty.

The room around her was dark, no glow of electronics, no glow from the thing, not even the steady lights to indicate a monitor was on or the blinking lights of the mainframe. And unlike reality, on her side of the revealing prison there was no cot, no chair, empty of everything but its sole occupant. And much like reality she was sitting on the floor, clad in generic green hospital scrubs that fit a little too loosely around her frame. One arm was resting on her knee, three alphabet blocks made for children floating above her palm. Her pinkie and her thumb twitched, making them spin slowly as they hovered in the air as if they were being juggled by her fingers.]


Dream: Alexander and Jude

[Even in his dreams, the world was different, everything bright like it had been hyper-saturated with color. The garden was a mix of the one he had now and the one from home, from England, where life had been all bright lights and dark despair with their futures penned out by their mother and father in precise, perfected detail. Alex had broken the mold, yet in his dreams he always returned to his favorite places. Never to the houses, always to the gardens.

The fountain from one of them stood before him, the water shut off as they were in winter. Yet the granite bench beneath him wasn't cold, only hard and unyielding as he looked up fountain. He liked it more when the water was running, liked the noise to tune everything else, but here there was only the low thrum of cicadas and the occasional chirp of a bird.]

May. 2nd, 2014


Who: Anon & Carol Danvers
What: A dream within a dream
Where: Dream land
When: Current
Warnings/Rating: To be determined

((OOC Note: With moderator approval, this is being done anonymously. Feel free to jump in if the post grabs you! If you decide to grab the post, please post a 'dibs' to avoid confusion or others thinking the post is still open.))

It's hazy. Murky.

The air is thick with humidity, hard to breathe. It hurts to breathe deep, a nagging thought that maybe there's not enough oxygen left in the air. Not enough to breathe. With the humidity, maybe it would be like drowning.

In the middle of all the haze and murk, a small cottage sits. One room, two windows in the front, one on the right side. The plants outside are naked of their leaves and flowers, skeleton branches that had long since been left to die. It's easy to imagine death here with how still the air is, and it's no wonder no one else is around.

Inside and outside, it's miserable and horrible, but someone sits in the yard to the left of the house, lounging against the outer wall, a bookend to the window that resides on the other side of the house. Legs stretched out, they're a listless thing, concentrating only on the steady in and out of humid air, each deep pull not quite enough to satisfy the ache for oxygen left behind in the cage of their chest.

There's illness here. A sickness that pervades through all the haze and murk.

Apr. 30th, 2014


Log: !The Hunger Games/Dream; Annie C & Finnick O

Who: Annie C & Finnick O
When: Tonightish, 'tis a dream!
Where: Beach in District 4
Rating: TBD

Can't stop what's coming // Can't stop what is on it's way // Bells and footfalls and soldiers and dolls // Brothers and lovers she and I were // Now she seems to be sand under his shoes // There's nothing I can do // Can't stop what's coming // Can't stop what is on it's way )

Apr. 24th, 2014


dream: graham and jake

[It was a dream, but self-awareness was evasive like black cats in midnight rooms, and therefore Jake did not know it was a dream. Not at first. The setting was familiar, and familiarity didn't worry him. The home was larger in dimension than reality would have allowed for, but Jake had been so much smaller the last time he'd set foot through the halls, his dream stretched the walls higher now and the halls longer to accommodate more than a decade's worth of a boy's growth spurt.

The house wasn't lively or fragrant like it'd been when his mother had still been alive, and that was because those were not the memories that Jake recalled with any accuracy. Jake remembered the end. Jake remembered lights off all the time, even at night, like the house was the one in mourning. That's how it was now, haunted and lonely, with shadows that climbed the wallpaper due to the clouds that shifted before a full moon from outside the kitchen window. There was a figure at the other end of the hall, and it looked like the outline of a woman, but Jake couldn't quite be sure.]

Hello? Ma'am? [He called out in question before stepping forward, following the dark woman as she rounded into the living room. But then, she suddenly wasn't there at all anymore. Jake turned around, frowning and scanning the quiet nothing of the hallway again.]

Apr. 14th, 2014


Dream: Jude/Clem

[It was real obvious that it was a dream. There was no way the grass was real, all green like emeralds shining in a real bright sun. And they were tall, those blades of grass, all the way to there, and hard to move in. They tickled Clem's bare knees, and she looked on down to see herself in a dress from her childhood, something her daddy had got her for her Christmas one year. Lorelei had hated that dress, calling it too young for a girl of nearly nine; Clem remembered.

She ware barefoot, toes grimy with dirt, but she wasn't a child. She was same age as she was while waking, hair brown as it was in the prison, the brown of her youth, the brown of summers spent running free, the brown she shared with her sister. And her hair was just as unkempt as it was in the prison, no conditioner or real shampoo for miles, not with the zombies eager to chomp at a person. She had a gun tucked 'neath the dress' dainty belt, and she smelled like industrial soap. At the end of the grassy field, there was something big waiting. It cast a shadow, and it blocked out the sun, and Clem started toward it, though she couldn't tell what it was, no matter how she craned her head back.]

Mar. 22nd, 2014


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