Dreamspace - RP Topic

Community Role Playing
69

As the small creature leapt from her arms, the light went out with a bang. Sue winced, taking a step back, her back colliding with the wall. Her eye felt weird; had the glass landed in it?

Wait, no, she just needed to blink. Blinking wasn’t as natural with this giant eye for some reason. She would have to mentally remind herself to do it every so often, at least for now. Hopefully she’d get used to it.

Also, glass. She was suddenly aware of the fact that she had no feet – er, nothing covering her feet. She had a sudden memory, of feeling different types of floor and ground with her feet, before she could see. She tried desperately to latch onto it, to remember, but it was only a feeling, probably one she’d experienced many a time, but nothing concrete.

Okay, focus on the present. Blink. The bat thing seemed scared. Wait, did it get scared and break the light, or did the light breaking scare it? It happened so fast… wait, if it didn’t break the light, what did? It must have… but then what scared it? Maybe it just doesn’t like being hugged. Congratulations, you fail at being helpful. Again.

She forgot about the bat-kid for a moment, turning toward the silver girl who was apparently trying to open the door by hitting it. She might not remember her own past, but she felt pretty sure she knew how doors worked.

“Have you considered looking for, like, a handle or something?” she said aloud.

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Eve’s teeth scrape against each other, so loudly it sounds like nails being drawn against metal. “Rotted door, rotted little dank chamber underground away from the sun, rotting rotting dream.” She draws back her hand, fingers coiling around each other into a fist as her arm pistons into the door again, and again.

On the fourth strike the sound of her fists clanging against the door mixes with the sound of someone (at least attempting to) talking to her. Eve frowns more deeply and pauses momentarily, turning around to stare down at Sue. It takes her a moment to make out, no she was not hallucinating at first, the woman talking apparently has a gargantuan eye for a head. An amber eye, looking at her.
Eve’s left eye twitches and her frown gives way to a somewhat confused grimace. What dreamling is this? One of the citizens, some kind of…aptly designed spy? Why would I dream up such strange looking things?

Her right pinky twitches. For a moment Eve wonders if she should ask Eyeball Lady who she is, but that idea passes quickly into one motivated more by her rampant frustration. “Yes,” she growls in a mostly human tone. “And it didn’t open. Locked, by some stupid little dreamling or rot. Rotting little dreams.”

Eve stretches back slightly to her full height, half to put an inch or so of distance between herself and the eye-woman and half to make herself look just that little bit more eerie in the darkness of the room. “You don’t look like anyone I dreamed. What are you, again?”

@Willess12

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“I…” Sue wasn’t sure how to answer that. She had already established that she didn’t want to let anyone know that she didn’t remember who she was, but she wasn’t expecting someone to just ask ‘what are you?’ How do you even answer that?

Also, this silver girl seemed upset. Perhaps a snarky comment wasn’t such a great idea.

Time for a new plan: when you’re not sure what to say, say everything at once and hope they get confused before you do.

“My name is Sue. I was a normal person, except I was blind, and then I took a pill and now I can see but I also have a giant eye for a head. I don’t think you dreamed me into existence, but that might explain–” Shoot! Not supposed to say you can’t remember, remember? “uh, might explain the absurdity of the situation. So now the question is, what are you?” Yeah, maybe I should stop talking now I’m totally just making things worse. Blink.

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Basil bit his tongue.

She took the pill too? Is she the only one, or did the rest…

He tore his eyes away from the slight blue glow across the eyeball lady’s… Eyeball, and looked at the mesmerizing blue glow of Eve’s eyes instead. She didn’t seem familiar, or like a possible construction of his dreams or fantasies - or even his nightmares. The rest could all very well be the abstract memories he had witnessed or imagined before, but she - She was real.

Whether this world was a dream or a nightmare, or reality itself: she was real. And that fact wasn’t necessarily comforting as she had been mashing at that door for a solid ten seconds or more. Which meant she could hurt him if she decided to, and considering she referred to his as “a bat”, the nuclear option appeared to be on the table.

Basil drew his knees to his chin and tried not to touch the wall. He didn’t want her to punch him.

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“…What?” Jung thought to himself. His first attempt at standing had gone much better than anticipated. He had fully expected to fumble for a few minutes before getting the hang of it. Naturally he was pleasantly surprised by this immediate success, though the specific actions required to get there left him dumbfounded.

Jung remained frozen in the position he was in, wondering if the strange movements would continue if something happened. He tried looking around the room to see if anyone else had observed his movements. However, the darkness surrounding him was only betrayed by the glowing eyes of the cyborg, monocular woman, and child.

Jung was caught off guard. The woman, sue, had taken a pill and wound up here. Jung had done the same thing. Could it be the same…

Jung heard the labored breathing of the seemingly normal woman nearby. Thanks to the darkness, he failed to see the gun she was holding. He thought back to a few moments ago where she had tried to help him. What could be happening to her now? Was she shocked by the pain he had gone through? He had to check on her.

Jung attempted to walk over to the panic-struck woman, asking: “Is everything ok?”

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Eve glowers down at Sue, expression cold as the Arctic. “A normal person, here. In my dream. I hope you’ll understand if I find that unlikely.”

“What-no, who. I’m the dreamer. I took the pills and came here and then I-” She cuts off midsentence, blue eyes blinking as the memories return to her.
Falling through the air like a stone, all that strength empty and useless against gravity. Arms that could rend steel helpless, dead weight.
The ground rushing up beneath her like every storm in history-

“I woke up here,” Eve lies, just enough anger in her voice for it to sound less obviously fake. “Here in this stupid room with this stupid door. Full of all of you.”
She turns and savagely kicks against the door with a foot, letting out a hoarse growl. “I’m going to go find who put me in here and peel them apart. And then all their accomplices.”

Eve leans down and looks towards where the handle was, attempting to grab and turn it with more force this time. “Look for a key or something, a brick. A weapon or a tool, if they were foolish enough to let us in here with any of those.”

@Winger

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Alexis took a shaky breath before replacing her gun back into the pocket where it belonged. “No, I’m not okay.” and being trapped in a dark room is not making it any better. She continued, “Do you know what took the light out? Did you see it?”

Alexis jumped at the Fish’s screaming before what it said finally registered in her mind and the all too familiar overwhelming sense of dread retuned to her again. In an instant, her hand once again was wrapped around her gun. “Where!” She was tired of being in this dark, dank, and mold covered room, she was tired of not knowing what was happening, And she was tired of waiting for the beast to come and kill her. She. Wanted. Out.

A noise echoes out from where Alexis is standing, and it’s unmistakably the sound of a gun cocking.

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…What?

Basil subconsciously cocked his head as he tried to take in what had just occurred. She just said this was her dream; she was the dreamer and she took the pills. But that couldn’t be true, because Basil was there. Or maybe this was her dream, and he entered it somehow?

Or, perhaps, this was a collective dream. Parts of everyone else’s experiences, or- No, that made less sense. He couldn’t be in a dream. This muck, this filth, this unpleasant discomfort creeping up his spine and seriously ruining any chance of accepting whatever was going on - it was real. It had to be real. But didn’t the dream from the pill feel like this, too? Or… Did it?

And more importantly, was he already second-guessing himself?

Basil opened his mouth. If anyone was listening they might hear the beginning note of a word.

But, Basil closed his mouth without uttering a word. It would only be an annoyance to this blue-eyed - wait, that sounds normal - to this glowing-blue-orbs-for-eyes girl to have it be reiterated that nobody could see a darn thing other than her and him because he was the one responsible for making it impossible to see in here in the first place.

Wait. I can see. I can help; I have to help.

That being said, Basil looked around at the barren walls, barren ceiling, and barren floor just in case there was something really obvious he missed. But he didn’t get very long to consider.

Slide follows magazine body. Firing pin locked. Bullet enters chamber. Hammer is drawn and held. Safety is disengaged.

Now, Basil didn’t necessarily think all these thoughts, as his thought process was more click goes click and then clack. But every tiny mechanism, every tightened spring and metallic movement, even the creak of the handle in Alexis’ grip run crystal clear in his massive ears. Nothing else would fit those sounds. He had never heard this exact combination of noises replicated, and yet there was only one thing that it could be.

Gun.

With that being said, Basil did not know how exactly he got back up on the wall, and why he or anyone in their right mind would claw onto the disgusting mold with their feet in order to stay off the ground. But here he was all the same.

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Eve was still turning the handle, glaring hatefully at the door.
Carved through concrete, can’t open a door? I’ll peel you apart like a fruit, maybe I’ll chew your bolts when I-

Click.

She stops turning the handle and looks up. Taimon exhales heavily, the sound still rolling around in her head. Her eyes close and the blue glow vanishes. Clever little dream. A double agent, one of the faceless. Hidden here, all mad-looking, pretending at innocence. And all along waiting, just waiting for me to turn my back.

stupid girl all that strength and still
nothing

There is a loud sound as Eve’s fingers scrape against the door, punctuated by teeth grinding against each other audibly. The sound fades as she releases it and lets her arms hang limply by her sides. She exhales again, just as sharp as before.
“So you do have something. Don’t you, Sue?”

Taimon’s jagged silhouette turns to face Sue. Her head tilts, very slightly, to the left. She otherwise doesn’t move.

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Sue’s first thought was to recommend the bat-kid. After all, if it – he could take out the light, maybe he could take out a door too, or at least a lock.

Her second thought was that she’d just considered recommending they use a scared child(?) as a weapon, and that maybe she’d said enough stupid things in the last few minutes. Besides, before she could say anything, there was another sound in the dark: the click of a gun.

It must be an attack. That was it: the lights were knocked out, and now they were ambushed in the dark. She froze; a part of her wanted to raise her hands, while another part said not to move at all. She listened to the second instinct. She doesn’t close her eye – if she’s going to die, she’s not going to show fear. She’ll keep her eye open (even if she can’t actually see anything).

It takes Sue a second to remember that that’s her ‘name’ and that the silver girl with flashlight eyes is talking to her. “It – it wasn’t me!” she says, in an embarrassingly high-pitched voice. okay, no, I am not going to go out squealing like a little girl. “Gun – you see – where is it?” she says, her voice normal this time, but her sentence coming out in fragments.

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Things were falling apart far too quickly.

The noises and exchanges that happened within those brief moments made Jung’s head spin. But the click of the gun made him freeze

“*The holder of the weapon is right in front of you, the girl who tried to comfort you. She’s panicked, her emotions taking control of her mind. She will shoot at any movement in front of her. *” Jung thought to himself. His years on the streets had brought him through gang territory, where the denizens were armed to the teeth. Usually if they were armed with simple melee weapons like pipes, knives or makeshift clubs, Jung could defend himself decently, using his own blade to hit critical tendons that allowed the enemy fine motor control. However, if there was a gun in the midst (and there generally was) Jung usually had one option:

Run

However, there was nowhere to run. The small concrete room had little cover, not that it was visible right now. Plus, running would catch the eye of the woman, potentially startling her and causing her to fire the weapon, potentially hitting Jung or the child and further angering the cyborg. No, running would cause the situation to devolve at a much quicker rate. He thought about tackling the woman to the ground, perhaps stunning her and allowing for the weapon to be taken. But then again, she very well could be a good shot, and it would be kind of rude to assail someone who just tried to help you. So, Jung did the only other option available to him: nothing

During stressful situations, the brain produces self-preservation responses such as fighting or fleeing, allowing one to react appropriately to a given situation. Unbeknownst to most, however, is a third option: Freezing. This action causes the being to attempt to not be seen as a threat or potential meal.

Considering fleeing would be futile and fighting could be fatal, freezing would have to do until further notice.

Quietly, yet firmly, Jung said to the panicked woman: “Listen to me, you need to put that gun down. There is a high possibility of you hurting someone in such close quarters. From what I can tell, the light overloaded. There is no need to panic.” Jung knew what happened to the light was a lie, but he needed something to cool the woman’s nerves down.

Turning to the rest of the group Jung declared, “We all need to cool off and use our minds rather than our emotions to get out of this mess. Because if we let this continue to devolve, it will lead to unnecessary pain and damage. We can make it out of this situation if we calm down. Am I clear?”

Jung suspected he would get called out by the cyborg but he didn’t care . He was not going to die due to collateral damage of unchecked emotion from others and he was not going to let another child and get hurt while he was present.

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Miles is initially frightened by the sudden shattering of the only light in the room, retreating further into his corner and away from whatever was happening. However, the talk of pill taking was enough to get him out of his initial shock and back to his normal state of general annoyance.
“Oh, if this is MENDAX behind everything again…”
Miles said as he pressed a hand to his forehead. His train of thought was interrupted again by the sound of Alexis’s gun and Jung’s attempt at calming everyone down.
“He’s right, we need to work together on this. I can get past that door and maybe open it from the other side, or even start ferrying people through.”
Miles started making his way toward the mold-covered door.

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“Try the door,” Eve replies, tone cool. She turns slowly, feet clanking against the ground as her glowing eyes move over the room, toward where the sound came from and sweeping over each person they pass in turn.

“Maybe one of you…people can open it.”

She pointedly moves to the side, gesturing toward the direction of the door and turning so her eyes illuminate the knob.
“Go on,” Eve says in the same deceptively calm voice. “By all means, try.”

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Concrete-bounce-don’t fire-concrete-bounce-maybe hit myself-

These thoughts are overridden by the encroaching panic. Your proprioception is gone. You don’t know where you are, what direction you’re facing, where your arm is, what are you looking at? Are you in a void? Are you entombed underground, facing a wall? You-

Unfortunately, you seem to have latched onto a particularly unpleasant patch of ceiling. A shlop-ing ooze squeezes between your bare toes, running up - or down? - your calf, dripping just past your ear.

Groping along the wall, you make your way to where the blue orbs of light glare outwards at the room. In their dim periphery, you can barely make out the door. It looks much the same as the wall, but the mold has been crushed in multiple places, revealing now dented steel beneath.

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“Let’s hope that there’s something on the other side,” Miles said as he took a deep breath and tried phasing through the door to see what was beyond it.

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All the hairs on Basil’s body stood on end as the slimy sensation froze his muscles, trapped until the horrible experience had ended. It had really been a horrible day today and it had been less than half an hour.

…Not that Basil had any idea how long it had been since he first woke up here. He had lost track of the conversation during the whole ooze episode, and- wait, hold on… Which way was he facing? Up? Down? For a moment all he could see was the two glowing eyes, the light of which severely hampered his ability to see basically anything else.

Basil blinked - hard - and tried to get a focus on Miles. If he was about to disappear again he wanted to see it happen.

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Eve watches the entire time as he slips past the door, eyes barely moving (unless he does manage to vanish past it). She exhales heavily and her teeth scrape against each other again. It sounds just like her nails running across the door.

“Wonderful,” she says. “Just wonderful. Maybe he’ll be able to open it.” Why didn’t he offer earlier, could have saved me a chip off my talon.
She straightens, the blue light of her eyes moving away and back over the room, moving toward the broken light above…before settling on the strange, hairy creature hanging upside down from the ceiling.

“Why are you up…how can you do that?” Eve asks, the grating frustration of her voice tempered by something approximating actual curiosity.

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He disappeared.

In front of Basil’s eyes, that man in the suit - who at the minimum was a fair bit older than everyone else in the room - had just walked through the wall. Through the… Door. Wall? Someone had said it was a door… Right, the man in the suit had described it as such. To Basil, though, it looked like about as much of a door as any other section of wall.

That being that it didn’t resemble a door at all. But maybe there was something those people knew that he didn’t.

…Up?

“…Up?”

Basil almost bit his tongue after that. He was in the dark, yes, he was invisible to everyone else, yes, but this was not an invitation to begin talking just because one of the strangers in the room began speaking. In fact, it would be wiser if he didn’t attempt any verbal communication with people he didn’t know if he wanted to stay out of dangerous circumstances, like being trapped in a concrete room with an eyeball head woman.

No. Don’t think about eyeball head lady.

However, communication or no communication, there was a point raised which could not be denied under this circumstance. He was on the wall, and he had absolutely no idea how he had gotten on the wall, or this far up on the wall, or the ceiling earlier. Slightly more important, however, was whether or not he was upside-down, as that would likely impact further movement.

Eve could likely see the reflective yellow eyes glancing about in apparent confusion as Basil traced the walls before finally realizing he could just look at the lightbulb socket as a point of identification. “Uh…” The eyes made brief contact again before staring up at the wall, the realization having been reached that he was, in fact, upside-down on the wall on what was likely a big, ugly patch of fungal mold. “I… I don’t-”

Basil started suddenly. His perspective - no, his entire orientation in the room - was changing. The most sickening of sounds had slowly begun creaking its way to his ears, and he could feel the room shifting upwards, the far end angling up as his ears suddenly made contact with the wall. The creaking turned into a moist ripping sound, and only too late the realization was made that he was about to fall, the mold he was clinging to having dislodged from the concrete surface and begun its descent towards the floor.

Within the microseconds that followed, Basil knew he had to move or else all was lost. His hand dove towards the wall he was leaving, easily cutting away the mold in a cloud of yellowish-brown fumes, his fingertips nearing the wall and swiping at the retreating surface. His feet had already fallen loose at this point, and his attempt at retaining at least one source of contact was all that could save him from falling flat on his back and being blanketed by the vile wall hanging that shortly followed. But in spite of his effort, he swpied just a moment too late. His claws barely touched the concrete as his last exasperating effort to save himself ended in failure.

For Eve, and for anyone else who cared to look over, there was an awful sound of wet mold disengaging from rugged wall, and a moment later there was a thud, which was immediately followed by a revolted series of coughs, as the mold came crashing down on top of him and mostly exploding into small wet particles and a massive cloud of vile dust.

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“It’s in here. It’s in here. It’s in here.” Alexis’ hands shook, the gun rattling along with them. The presence of the beast closed around her like a blood pressure gauge, it was suffocating. She barely heard Jung over the sound of her heartbeat ringing in her ears. “I Need to get out of here.” her response was barely audible, hampered by the fact she was practically gasping for air now. If Alexis felt lightheaded earlier now she felt as if her head was practically going to float right off her shoulders. She was beginning to lose her balance; her legs refused to support her weight any further, instead opting to collapse and send their panicked owner into the nearest wall…

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It is a strange sensation, becoming intangible. You reach inside yourself, grasp something, pull it out, cast it aside. It’s almost nauseating. Almost an emotion.

Voices become deeper, distorted, smells more distinct, yet also dampened. You touch the door, and feel the mold, the concrete … and then pass through it. It is unexpected, as you stumble forwards, through the door …

… Into blinding light.

Alright, not blinding. In fact, as your eyes adjust, it is quite dim. Visibility is in fact extremely reduced. But the- place- is comparatively far brighter than your previous room. A single, domed light set into a wall on your left. On your right, another wall. Ahead, concrete stairs.

The smell is nothing like the mold room. It is an ancient smell, a dusty smell. Speaking of which, the dust cannot not be noticed. It coats everything. The single railing on the stairs, the stairs, the ground, the walls.

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