Dreamspace - RP Topic


Flash, bang, blackness.



Rip, tear, crack. Like the sound of a glowstick being broken. You awake.

Your eyes open.




Blueness. Blueness.


Flash, flash, ow.

Your eyes readjust.

How did you get here? Anyways, moving on.

The wall is hard. Cold. Wet. No, not wet - damp. And slightly coarse. Slightly sticky. The smell is repulsive.

Yellow light flickers. Flash, flash … flash.

You aren’t alone.



The neighborhood cats and squirrels took to the hills at the sound of that voice. The silence that followed was broken by the soft sounds of running footsteps as Basil approached.

“Yes ma’am.”

The larger figure swung a ladle in the direction the boy had arrived from. “You better not have been sneakin’ about the rubbish pits again, Basil. You know not to go snoopin’ around there.”

“I wasn’t.” Basil shuffled as he spoke, something incredibly unhelpful due to him resorting to it whether he was lying or telling the truth. “The others dropped their jacks there, I was collecting them before they got stolen.”

“Well next time call me and I’ll be agoin’ with ya. Nobody wants you gettin’ tetanis or some infectin just ‘cause you fool with some glass over there. We know we’ve got limited supply and can’t afford to have you catchin’ somethin’ you could avoid.” The figure cast two suspicious eyes at Basil’s hands, which were behind his back. “Let’s see those jacks.”

Without a word Basil dutifully handed over the three jacks held in his palm. This seemed to satisfy the curiosities of the other, who suddenly seemed less serious. “Good. Now serving’s in two. Go and dress the table and we can all eat once your old man gets home.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Basil replied with a weak salute which earned him a kindly ruffling of his hair. As the woman disappeared, Basil glanced into his other palm, which held a white soluble capsule.


Pain. Stinging pain, originating from his eyes.

Basil instinctively wrapped the blanket tighter around his face, unsure if he had awoken or was still in that horrible, horrible nightmare. With a jerky weakness his eyelids slowly crept open, shutting once due to the cold slime from the wall making contact with his neck.

Now, gently, they opened once again, to take in everything he could see from between the wrinkles of the cloth.


Pain, searing just below the nape…

Then nothing

Jung opened his eyes to find himself in a place he had never before seen, recoiling as the acrid smell finally registered on his nose.

“Is it over? Are we finally arrested?”

He tried to recall the horrors he just went through. The rage of the MENDAX employee, the searing pain on his left eye,

The screams of his mother.

Jung had lost the load of ingredients for the SNOVA pills he was carrying, fallen down into the sewers below.

Desparate pleading had granted him and his mother an extra 24 hours, one precious day, to go and locate the items, else they never see the sun again.

It was all for naught.

The supplies had long washed away by the time Jung returned for them.

His countenance fell further than it ever had been before. Not since dad leaving after a drunken rage, not since mother had become hooked to those forsaken pills, not since Tansy and Mila were put into a government vehicle to be raised by strangers. No, the very fact that Jung and his mother were now doomed to a fate with no outside, no sky, no breeze, no hope, no anything…shattered him.

They were supposed to outlast those elitist snobs. They were supposed to finally beat him, go and rescue the twins, and be happy again. But no, fate would not have it.

Jung had somberly wandered over to a grocery store, where he picked up ingredients for a favorite family soup with the last bit of money he had. It wouldn’t stop them.

Why was he even bothering?

“For mother’s morale”, he reminded himself. Despite his melancholy spirits, Jung’s mother was in a far worse state. She had lost her marriage, her daughters, her supply of SNOVA pills, and now finally, her will. She lay somber in the corner of the living room, sobbing softly.

Perhaps this meal would lift her spirits slightly, maybe bring some joy before the pain of darkness swallowed her.

Jung knew it was a lie.

The only thing that could bring his mother any peace now was one final SNOVA dose.

Curse it all.

Jung walked somberly home, when a glint caught his eye.

It was a coin. Jung had loved collecting spare coins as a child, back when dad was still kind.

“Doesn’t matter now, I’m not going to have anything after tomorrow.”

Curiosity prevailed, however, and he went to investigate the coin.

Jung’s heart dropped.

It wasn’t the coin that caused this shock, but the items next to it: A pair of SNOVA pills.

Mother would love it, finally have peace for the last moments before they were taken…

He snatched the coin and the pills without a second thought.

That evening, the soup had been made, bringing a wonderful aroma into the home, slightly cutting through the gravitas of what lay ahead.

Jung’s mother didn’t react.

After finishing his bowl, Jung attempted to give his distraught mother some of the savory broth.

“Please mom, you have to eat.”

No response

Defeated, he sat next to her and held her hand.

“I found a SNOVA pill-”

She leapt up, crazed


Jung, shocked by the familiarity of the situation, panicked, handing her one of the capsules. His mother ran to the sink and swallowed it without a second thought. Soon she was fast asleep, unprepared for what lay in the morning.

The outburst left Jung in tears. “She’s no better than dad. How?”

Sirens and blue and red lights cut off his thought.



They still had 12 hours why?

They lied to him.

Of course they would, how could he not see it?

That sadistic monster gave them 24 hours to give them a sense of hope, only for him to take it, and crush it.

He wouldn’t accept this fate.

Seeing his mother peacefully asleep, Jung ran to the sink, chugging the SNOVA pill.

He collapsed a moment later, his nightmare only truly beginning.

“Oh, that’s right.” Jung thought to himself somberly. He attempted to rise

Nothing happened.

Confused, he looked down and tried to move his leg

Nothing happened.

Panic registered on his mind, thrusting control of it as Jung decended into hyperventilation.

He was paralyzed. Wherever he was, he couldn’t escape the intense, acrid smell and nasty floor. A drop of condensation that strayed into his mouth caused a coughing fit, allowing him to regain control.


Jung’s tirade was suddenly stoped when he abruptly sensed someone, or something looking at him from behind, eyes boring deeply into his neck.

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What… was that?

That was… color?

Yes, color. Why is that so strange?

Where am I? I remember… blackness, nothing… wait, no, I remember something… doing something. But I had my eyes closed, or did I? Was I… blind?

Yes, that sparked the vaguest sense of memory. She couldn’t see, and she had taken… something… to see. A pill? Apparently, it had worked, if the flashes of color were anything to go by. That, or she was dreaming.

Dreaming? That word sparked a memory, something about what she’d done to see… but just as quickly, it was gone. Darn it, there was something there, she just didn’t know what.

Okay. So she was blind and now saw and couldn’t remember why or how or… well, anything. Maybe a side effect? Maybe they could tell her. Wait, who was they? Well, surely someone would know.

Well, they aren’t going to come to me. Or maybe they are, and they just haven’t yet. Bah, I’m not waiting. I’m going to figure this out myself. She opened her eyes.

Wait, eye.

Wait, no, eyes. I have eyes, right?

Well, she could definitely see, that was for sure.


She’s stronger than all of them now.
She’s laughing, scaling the miserable apartment building where she lives as her nails punch holes in the side she can climb with. There’s screaming in the distance and the roar of sirens but none of it bothers her. She’s stronger than all of them now.
They don’t matter, and even if they did, they couldn’t stop her.
Shots ping against the brickwork around her and she glances back. Some of the stupid little guards are firing at her, trying to shoot her down before she can reach the top. Stupid.

She digs her hands into the building, shoveling brick and concrete and building material out of the building and down onto the police cars far below. A terrific crash reaches her still-human ears and she resists the urge to let out a cackle of glee.

But as she reaches with another hand to try and clamber a bit further, another shot rings out. It misses her by an inch, pinging against the brick she’s holding and-

-the brick dislodges, just enough that she loses her balance.

And then she falls. The sensation of falling always scared her, and now invulnerable and unstoppable as she is, it still does. The world spins as she falls, as she claws at the air with fingers that could cut steel, as she kicks with legs that could shatter bones. Panic surges through her, so sudden and forceful she barely even notices that as she flails her iron nails are tearing against her own body. Ripping strips of metal from her legs and torso as she falls, falls, falls.

She hears the final crash, like a peal of thunder, and darkness devours everything.

Her bed feels cold and hard against her back. She didn’t remember it feeling like this when she fell asleep. It had been soft, supportive when she laid back and-

The pills, she thinks vaguely. I think I…yes I took one of them. Then I lay down and…
Was it working…is it working? Am I asleep? Am I awake?

Eve exhales slowly. The sound comes out low and long, like air hissing from a grate. What…?
Is she dreaming or is she awake? Her mind feels hazy and slow, like she’s swimming through a liquid world. She takes another breath.

The same grate-hiss sound echoes out. Even breathing is a chore now, every action slowed and imprecise. The sensation is unpleasant and she wishes she was back asleep. Well if it didn’t work I guess I should get up…
Eve tries to move, and hears it.
Scrape. Scrape. Scrape.
The telltale sound of metal against something hard. Close to her.
What was that?

Eve takes another breath. Now that she notices it, the hissing seems close too. Too close.
Am I awake?

She tries to move again, cringing at the loud scraping metal. It’s still difficult to move but focusing makes it better. Just breathe. Everything is fine. It has to be.
Eve takes another breath as her eyes crack open.
This isn’t her bed. This isn’t her house. She doesn’t know where she is.

A rush of fear stops Eve’s breath in her throat as she moves her head up from the cold stone floor, just enough to see. She opens her mouth and starts to say something, to ask where she is, to call out in case anyone can hear.

A tinny, low voice growls out: “Where am I?”

Eve falls silent, her shock rooting her in place.

Is that…my voice?


Distant voices in heated argument rung outside her room. She didn’t need to hear their voices to know what was the topic of said argument, or who was currently partaking, it was always her parents And what they were arguing about was the same old thing; Her.

It didn’t take a genius to know their money had run dry, which in turn meant they could no longer afford her treatment. She had come to this conclusion a few months ago and had accepted the possibility that this disease might kill her, but why did they have to argue over it, couldn’t they just be there for her? Why did they have to insist on finding a solution?

Alexis turned away from the door, closed her eyes, and drifted off to sleep.

Alexis felt something cold pressed against her face that was unmistakably wet, but that was strange, she didn’t remember sleeping somewhere wet last night unless-. Alexis quickly opened her eyes and sat bolt upright, there was a scarping sound behind her and the looming presence of the Beast returned to her once more. Her heart was racing as her hand drifted to the pocket that she kept her handgun, something was in here coming to get her. The beast was here, getting closer and closer by the second.

Alexis’ hand froze just above her pocket, she wasn’t alone, but the feeling she got wasn’t that of the Beast, it was something else entirely.



The blanket smells … not necessarily good, but comforting. It smells of your home, your bed.

The rest of the room does not. Maybe the walls were concrete once - Yes, you can make out the grooves of cinder blocks - but a yellowish, greyish mold-like substance coats a shockingly large percentage of the walls. It oozes a colorless liquid. As you take this in, a long, slow globule of the liquid drips from the ceiling, landing squarely on the blanket.

A single, flickering, sickly yellow lightbulb hangs naked from the center of the ceiling, half-crusted with dried grime.

Oh, and there are other people in the room. Strewn willy-nilly, some sitting asleep against the walls, others looking more like they were thrown there, like sacks.

The urge to blink, to close your eyes, doesn’t seem as easily doable as you’d heard. Wasn’t it supposed to be a reflex, or something? Your eyes - eye - itches.

Your nose collides with something soft and a little bit scratchy. You don’t remember your bowl being so dirty that there was oozing mold in it.

Rip, tear, crack. The sickening noise echoes throughout the room.


Basil felt his lip curl upwards in a sneer involuntarily as his mind processed all the information entering through his nose. Fungus, unknown variety, varying in thickness from one to three millimeters in places. The air was thick with the pungent odor of decay, and the taste of rot fastened onto his tongue. Any comfort or familiarity in the scent of his blanket was lost amidst the utter reviling stench of the world around him.

A subtle noise caused his ears to twitch. It came from above. It was both incredibly familiar and totally alien at the same time; as if water was passing through a sponge. Before he could look up a colorless drop of fluid hit the blanket, causing him to jolt violently as it soaked in and made contact with his leg.

Now he didn’t even feel safe in his blanket. What in the world was going on?

This was at least slightly comforting. People in circumstances worse off than himself - something he was trained to take pity on. However, like in his last nightmare, this could very well be a bait-and-switch. But at least he could look at some of those present, if not all.

The first person Basil’s attention was drawn towards was a young man furthest away, who appeared to be both conscious and lying with his head propped up on an uncomfortable angle. He didn’t appear to say anything outside of violently coughing, but the emotions on his face were quite vivid and ranged from worry to desperation to a sinking suspicion. He would have to watch him, for certain.

There was a series of soft, metallic sounds, which ended in a hollow voice posing a question. The voice was feminine, but rather deep, and sounded almost artificial in the emotion it carried. The person responsible for the query seemed to be recovering from being tossed into the wall, and it was difficult to tell what she looked like from the angle Basil was situated at.

“I d-”

Basil opened his mouth to make an attempt at a polite response, and then what what what What What What What WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT WHAT

WHAT in blue blazes is THAT?!

At first it appeared to be a rather well-built woman propped up in the corner opposite Basil. Everything about her seemed normal enough given the situation he was in, except that she had a MASSIVE EYEBALL IN PLACE OF HER CRANIUM. He could feel his ribcage tighten at the thought of making eye contact with that horrible, singular ball, floating ominously above her shoulders.

“I don’t-”

A fragile tap tore his eyes off that sight to see a fish collide with the lightbulb in the center of the room.

A fish.

Basil’s arms crept closer around himself. There were at least two other individuals in the room, but he couldn’t bring himself to look at them lest they be worse than he had previously imagined. This was waking up into another nightmare.

“I don’t know.”


Miles forced his eyes shut, not daring to look down at what was almost certainly his horribly mutilated body. The pain was unbearable, and the sounds he kept hearing from his torturers were absolutely sickening, and no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t use his recently gained powers to free himself. He would have vomited if his stomach were still in his body. Finally, after Miles had gone almost completely numb from the agony he’d experienced, he heard the raspy voice of one of his tormentors.
“I hope this experience taught you who really deserved punishment in that courtroom.”

Miles bolted upright, breathing heavily and grasping his now thankfully fully intact chest.
“Augh, what was in that drink?”
He said putting a palm to his forehead and slowly standing up. Once he opened his eyes, Miles was almost compelled to sit back down when he saw where he was. A damp, disgusting grey room with a bat, a robot, an eyeball, a fish, and two almost normal people.
“Oh, I can’t still be tripping…”
Miles backed himself against the wall to put some distance between himself and his unfamiliar companions.


She slowly, deliberately, closed her eye. Yes, eye; she was certain now, she had only one, and it felt weird. It felt almost too big.

Well, she couldn’t just sit here with her eyes – eye – closed. This was an unknown situation, and it needed to be identified, and that meant getting as much information as possible.

But wait; surely, if I was blind before, I must know how to figure things out by my other senses alone. I can still hear the voices of the other people in the room. I can still feel, though right now all I feel is dampness – what was that loud noise?

No, she decided. Just because she could didn’t mean she should. Firstly, she’d gone through this to see, she might as well take advantage of it. Secondly, this was clearly an abnormal situation. It wouldn’t do to put herself at an intentional disadvantage in figuring it out. If she could see, she should, even if it felt weird.

She opened her eye again, this time trying to ignore how it felt and focus on the people around her.

She was in the corner of this place, wherever it was. There were a few other beings in the room… people? She realized she didn’t know what people looked like, though she had a vague idea of what they were shaped like. In the opposite corner, she saw a blanket with something concealed in it – a child, perhaps? She saw eyes through the blanket for a second, though they quickly turned away. And up at the ceiling light, there was… a bug? bird? fish? Wait no, that was silly, fish didn’t fly.

“Who are you?” she said, not really sure who she was speaking to in particular. That’s when she realized she didn’t feel her mouth move, though she still heard words, in what she knew to be her voice.


The sudden voices of other souls trapped in this place caught Jung’s attention. He looked around with the limited mobility he had, seeing what looked like a small child, a grown man, a woman, a floating eyeball…

A floating eyeball? How peculiar. Surely there’s not anything…

Maybe not. Having looked at the denizens of the dank building, Jung looked at the filthy wall he was propped up on. The wet mold surely hadn’t been cleaned for years, and was doing no favors for his jacket and hair.

Having nothing else to do, Jung’s mind wandered back to the other people. Were they victims of MENDAX as well? What horrid mutations or injuries could they have done to them? Why is there a floating fish?

In the midst of this wandering, Jung decided that theorizing was going to get him nowhere. As such, he decided to ask the group:

“So…how did you all get here?”


Basil’s eyes fluttered from person to person, spending as little time on the eyeball head lady as possible as he took in all they spoke. The people here were at the very least responsive, if not shockingly casual given the situation. Perhaps they simply didn’t realize what had occurred to them?

Then it struck Basil that perhaps he retained what aspects had been in his nightmare. One hand stole up through the blanket and felt the long, pointed ear which jutted upwards alongside its duplicate. So he wasn’t awake, then; this was just a byproduct of the nightmare. He hadn’t escaped.

An involuntarily whimper escaped his lips as his arms stole around his knees and drew them impossibly close to his chest, his eyes sinking towards the floor. He couldn’t escape.


Rip, tear, crack.

The echo tickles Eve’s ears and she feels herself stiffen more. Her body feels far, far colder than it should. What is…

She takes another grate-hiss breath and experimentally moves her hands. The sound of metal scraping against concrete echoes out again but it’s not quite as jarring now.
She tries to get up again, barely feeling her hands pushing against the concrete floor. Everything feels cold and heavy and dull.
But Eve grits her teeth in frustration and pushes on.

In the flickering light, a tall figure slowly stands up. They slip a few times and eventually leverage themselves against the mold-ridden wall to help rise. The flashing light doesn’t really help to illuminate them, the only flashes revealing their body is reflective like metal…and very sharp looking.

Eve taps the wall experimentally, trying to see if the bit in front of her is either hollow or weaker, or something besides concrete. The darkness of the room around her is unsettling, but the more “awake” she feels the more that fear is slowly being replaced by irritation.

In the flickering light she finally sees one of her hands, resting against the wall. Dark metal instead of flesh. Clawed edges instead of nails, scraping against the concrete. So that’s what was making the sound, she thinks vaguely.

She starts to think, half-lost in thought and only barely aware when she mutters an answer to the strange voice. “I fell…and then I woke up here. Maybe…”


Alexis felt nothing, which was strange, most places she’d been had at least some form of technology. The lack of it here only made her anxiety worse, but she’d have to deal with that later, she turned her attention back to the room’s occupants. Let’s see, there’s a flying fish, something tightly wrapped in a blanket, a Man sprawled out on the floor, a robot with hair- holy hell! Why is their head an Eyeball?

A voice interrupted her thoughts, the man was speaking.

“Don’t know.” Alexis said as she stood up, “I need to get moving, it’s nearby.” She sighed under her breath as she began digging through her pockets for something to poke the mold covered walls with. “ I think the real question is who moved us here because I sure as hell don’t remember falling asleep in this mold infested room.”


Though she heard and registered what the others were saying, she was momentarily sidetracked by her own situation, as she was slowly figuring out that it wasn’t just that she had one big eye – her whole head was an eye. She might not remember much about how people looked – though she had a good idea now, assuming any of these people were normal that is – but she was pretty sure this wasn’t normal.

So, I took a pill that allowed me to see, and it also messed with my memory and gave me a giant eye head. Good to know. Maybe I’m still dreaming?

The thought caught her by surprise. There it was again, a thought of dreaming. Why was that significant?

As she turns her focus back to the rest of the room, the woman’s words register to her. “Well, at least you remember where you fell asleep,” she mutters, getting to her feet.

She noticed the man next to her, the one with the sunglasses, still hadn’t moved, though he seemed to be awake. The words “What’s with him?” came from her mouth before she could stop them.


Jung furrowed his brow at that phrase. “Huh. I guess I can still make faces. Good to know
“What do you mean by ‘it’? Is that what brought us here?”

The next words cut off his train of thought. He attempted to turn himself to better face the woman, but failed. Jung sighed, then turned his face to her and replied:

“My spine decided to bluescreen on my for some reason. Whether or not it was caused by someone else remains to be seen. Though I wouldn’t doubt the sick attitude existing in someone to break someone’s neck and leave them to die of fungal poisoning.”

Jung considered adding a jab of his own at the sight of the woman before him, but declined against it considering his fragile state. He then considered it hadn’t been the weirdest thing he’d seen, eyes briefly glancing at the levitating fish.

Jung squinted again at the small shape under the blanket, suddenly concerned

“Wait is that a kid?”


Basil stirred slightly from his depressed reverie to look around for the kid that fellow had mentioned. There didn’t seem to be anybody else in the-


His eyes traveled back to make contact with Jung’s, at least somewhat confident he was not capable of suddenly inciting violence due to his inability to move. Basil didn’t visibly appear abnormal, save his eyes were almost glowing a solid yellow out of the otherwise indiscernible void where his face was hiding.

Oh, and the giant triangle-like points sticking up under the blanket on either side of his head.


Jung met the gaze of…whatever was looking at him. Observing…

ok that’s certainly different, but not as odd as the eye or the fish”, he thought to himself. Then, he saw

Jung was confused more than anything. That had to be a child under there, the sound was uncanny. But why did it have such strange features? Could MENDAX have really stooped that low?..

“Hey, uh you ok?” Jung asked the figure. He wasn’t expecting an answer, but if he, an adult, was panicked in this horrifying situation, then surely a child would be far more shaken than him. Besides, a little bit of concern for someone could possibly coax the remainder of the group into opening up.



Basil thought for a moment. Should he really be any amount of trusting with these people, who clearly didn’t even know each other, and who might also cause him harm? Who might not even actually exist?

None of them seemed like a reasonable person to talk to. They were quickly losing the quality of being in a worse position than him, and one of them was a no no no don’t do it don’t even look in the direction of the eyeball head lady don’t even consider doing it.

“…No.” Basil turned slightly away, trying to ignore the water in his eyes. And also the eyeball lady.


Okay, so there’s a little kid who seems to be scared but is also possibly some kind of monster. But then again, I have a giant eye head, so who am I to talk? There’s also the person who is… paralyzed, I guess? Should I help either of them? Well, the kid… I have no idea what I should say to him, maybe I should let one of the others. As for the paralytic…

And then, she glanced down at the paralyzed figure, and a sudden compulsion came upon her. She reached out one foot and nudged his leg slightly with her bare foot once, twice, three times. Not hard, just enough to be annoying, assuming he could still feel.