Freebie :3
Np: his dream is basically him being a soldier in TF2 or doing weird cooking but go wild!
At the request of a certain someone, I'm gonna remake this thread of Valra's! [Again with permission, as per my other remakes of her thread.]
Basically, your character ends up in the dream of the character about them. Could be a regular dream, could be a lucid dream, could be a nightmare. Could be a tidbit about the character's backstory, could just be them fighting Jack Black in a pen factory and then running over a small child. Possibilities are endless, they're dreams.
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The first post is a freebie!
Yska stood still, unsure what to make of the dream that lay before him. It was like no dream he'd had before- he was used to ones where he was floating in a void, usually outer space, but nothing like this. He looked down at the... water? Blood? The morbid notion that it was blood soon dissipated as he saw the liquid not leaving a stain on his shoes, but the fact that the liquid looked crimson still gave the void a macabre aspect.
Uncertain what to do in this quiet expanse, Yska looked ahead, squinting. There, he could see two figures- unfamiliar, for now. Hesitant, the humanoid abomination watched them for a moment, observing a tense atmosphere. Should he approach? It didn't seem like there was much else he could do. And this was a dream, he knew that much. What was the worst that could happen?
The closer Yska got to the pair, the more he felt that he wasn't meant to be here. As he approached, ripples pulsed from around his steps on the surface, slowly dissipating over the surface of the smooth glassy water that seemed to go on forever. It was completely silent except for those dripping sounds, even when he tried to step with more force. Once he was a few yards away, he realized that he recognized one of the two. The standing one. She was the woman in the elevator, the one who seemed to be suppressing a panic attack when he was there. As he'd thought, there was more to this woman than met the eye... there had to be, because the atmosphere of this dream was like nothing he'd experienced before.
Taking a deep breath, Yska cleared his throat.
"Pardon me, you two... I'm afraid I'm not meant to be here. I have an overwhelming sense of that. But I'm not sure how I've gotten here in the first place, so... I just thought I'd let you know," he said sheepishly. After a moment, he found himself looking with curiosity at the individual who had been stooped to look into the water. He wasn't sure what to make of her, or what she might be able to see in those dark red depths. But she was a lot like J... taller, for certain, among some other notable differences.
"I don't believe we've met." The Deadringer cut an intimidating figure, that was for sure. He couldn't imagine her panicking at a stalled elevator. Something told Yska to apologize. "I'm sorry for intruding. I'd get out of here, but. You know. Dreams. I'm not sure how to make myself wake up, even if I know this is a dream..."
NP: You open your eyes to find yourself... in outer space, somewhere. In all directions, stars glitter in unfamiliar constellations. Somehow, through the logic of the dream, you are able to float in whichever direction you please with a mere thought. However, something stops you from exploring too much.
A grotesque creature is here, almost impossible to describe. It floats still, seemingly shifting and warping before your eyes. It is massive, blotting out many of the stars ahead of you with its sheer size. Looking at it fills most ordinary souls with an unspeakable fear- indeed, staring directly at it is incredibly difficult. If you have met Yska before, you somehow recognize that this is him. If you haven't, something tells you that this 'thing' is also a person... or is at least trying to be.
A sudden shift in the being's girth tells you that you have caught its attention. As though embarrassed, the being curls inward on itself, flickering as though it were a glitching computer screen. A few more flickers and the malformed abomination is gone, with Yska in its place. A normal human man. Based off of his expression, he seems disturbed that you've seen him in such a state. He speaks to you at a distance, without moving his mouth.
"... Hello?"
( v HHGHH i love hanako sm.......lil followup)
(me sobbing and crying on the ground because i love them. hanako u can have yska in your lil dollhouse any time)
Yska remained still as Hanako approached, relaxing a bit. Still, it was embarrassing to be seen as his... true self. He knew that by any normal set of sensibilities, it was repulsive. It was something that drove normal humans into hysterics at a single glimpse. However, it wasn't having that effect on Hanako. Yska wasn't sure what Hanako was, exactly, but for some reason he did not have the ordinary wariness that accompanied meeting a non-human entity. If anything, he was drawn to the stranger. It did still feel like his privacy was invaded, but perhaps that wasn't Hanako's intention. Perhaps he'd just found his way here somehow, on accident.
"... It's alright. I just... don't like being seen like that," he said, pausing. "Even if it's in a dream," he said, the strangeness of the situation seeming to have brought him to lucidity. Hanako's next words, however, took Yska by surprise. How could one see that resemblance? He didn't understand.
"How can you say that after what you just saw?" he said curiously, tilting his head at a gentle angle. He couldn't imagine anyone associating him with a lamb after what Hanako had just witnessed... but perhaps beauty truly is in the eye of the beholder.
^ // hehe. he is mine now
//
^ // Follow up on the follow up bc i love Yska ;; //
Hanako simply hummed softly, listening to Yska talk as he mirrored the entity's head tilt.
"hm, Maybe im thinking more of a wolf. A wolf in sheep's clothing." Reaching forwards, Hanako lightly brushed his hands over the skater's cheeks, cupping both of them in their palms as they floated up ever so slightly, now fully looking down on Yska. And while literally, in a sense it was also mentally. He saw the entity as someone smaller than him. Someone to glance down upon and maybe even take care of. Another doll to add to his growing dollhouse. But they didnt need to know that. Since either way their touch was as welcoming as always. As soothing and maybe even addictive depending on the other party. Because thats exactly what Hanako was. He morphs himself into whatever the person needs.
"But truly, you're as adorable as a little lamb." Gently pinching Yska's cheeks, Hanako cooed endearingly. Like a mother with a baby almost.
"And it's fun. Watching you lure people in with this innocent act of yours. Oh but who knew you were just as glorious behind closed doors"
^ // KDSJHSD M EXCITE WEEH //
This was definitely strange… especially considering Hanako doesn’t have a need for sleep. Nor the ability to dream. The only time he enters someone's head being literally and physically. So, why was he here ? Did he get shot off into space again while he was regenerating again ? No… he would’ve felt it… Besides, something about this place seemed unreal. Like it was all a vision he’d created in his own mind. Or someone else's. How curious. From constellations he’d never seen before to places in the galaxy he was most unfamiliar with… Oh but that wasn’t the thing that caught his attention.
Until now, Hanako had been mindlessly floating around. Letting his body carry him. But it all came to a halt when he sensed something. Someone. Well, someone in the form of something. Because god knows what the thing his eye landed on was. There wasn’t any way to describe its appearance. All Hanako knew was that the moment he saw it, he felt his heartbeat start to speed up. The creature seemed to feel his gaze burning into it too, since after a short while he looked as though it was staring right back at him. Like it was trying to burrow a hole deep into his soul. It was gorgeous…
And so, he finally had a direction to go. Instead of continuing his pathless journey, Hanako made his way towards the entity. The closer he got the louder he could hear his heart in his ears. And here he thought he’d already found everything there is in the universe.
Oh but it got even better. After processing the arrival of the stranger, the thing seemed to grow… embarrassed? It appeared like it was trying to hide in its own body. If you could even call it that. To Hanako, he saw the entire situation like a performance. Like an actress shedding their costume to reveal another one. The only thing being it seemed to be the other way in this case. The organism putting on another face in the presence of another… It was kind of disappointing. The giant body of mass was really such a pretty sight.
But the reveal was just as grand as the opening. Hanako hasn't interacted with Yska a lot, but with a single glance he immediately recognised the figure skater. Those alluring eyes of his and their natural ability to draw anyone in. Was Hanako a victim of it ? Or simply allowing himself to be ? Who knows. Because either way it only brought him closer.
“It seems i’ve intruded into somewhere i shouldn't be” His tone was casual, genuinely apologetic despite the abnormal situation.
Tipping his head to the side, Hanako inched closer till he was directly in front of the now human form. Pupil dancing with curiosity as he stared into Yska. “So… lambs, hm?” Hanako’s smile almost split his face in half. “I can see the resemblance even more now”
@ NP : You dont need to follow this prompt exactly ! feel free to change it up a bit. Hanako doesn't really dream. So whatever it is you're seeing he wants you to :)
It’s as though your eyes are still closed. With the darkness stretching past even the horizon, engulfing the entire area and voiding it of any light. The only thing that signified you were even somewhere being the small ripples of what looked like an ocean of tar. Black waves overlapping each other. It was weirdly… hypnotising?
Looking up though, past the vast sea, you spot something in the middle. A singular bit of light. What it is, is entirely up to you. It can be someone, or something. It morphs into your greatest desire. Whatever it is… you need it. And it’s drawing you towards it as though there’s a chain around your throat. But something’s wrong. The ‘water’ just looks so… life-like. Like they’re living souls. And then there’s a voice. A soft, motherly tone telling you to go for it. Floating near the desire was Hanako. He was waiting. Waiting for the show to begin.
And maybe you do. But as you go on, go deeper. Limbs start reaching for you. Grabbing at your body as though trying to climb away from something. Pitched screams, cries and sobs coming in from every direction. Are they… trying to drag you under? Or perhaps they’re trying to save you. To prevent you from going any further. Since hanging over whatever you see, was a small figure. Lounging casually as he waited. Waited for the show to begin. As though taunting you with something you could never reach.
"You finally made it~"
For a being who isn’t supposed to be able to dream, Illanya remains somewhat wholly unaware of the fact that this is something that should be impossible.
Perhaps it was those darkened ripples that lulled her into a sense of security, that she truly didn’t care about the impossibility of this dream. Perhaps it was the glimmer of light, that flickered in faded eyes, stirring a desperation in the woman that was more important than anything else. Not that she’d wonder herself which is was, instead fully engrossed and unaware of her surroundings.
Truthfully, the light above was made up of all things she’d once possessed. All that had been cruelly ripped from her grasp not long ago.
Life. Family. Love. Peace, finally.
How could she not draw closer? It is too good to be true, and she knows it. However, it wasn’t like she had much to risk anymore. With that in mind, she wades into the liquid of souls, flinching as she does so.
The wailing is what she hears first, though it’s far from the only thing that begins to bombard the undead. It’s quite a familiar thing to her, these sounds, the feel of someone grabbing at her, desperately pulling her back. Or perhaps it was keeping her away. Preventing her from doing something. Something horrid.
Like those of the past, maybe these are trying to stop something. Stop a dramatic and unfortunate end. She hadn’t listened to them back then, so why should she now?
Illanya grunts, wrenching at her arms, tugging free from those grasping limbs and reaching upwards towards the light. It really is only then she spots him, hearing him only a moment later. Her head tilts as she hears him, some small flicker of lucidity of a realization that something is really not right, finally sharpening in her gaze.
“W-what?”
For NP: Thought I’d include a prompt, however if you’d like to do your own, don’t be afraid to do so! Only thing to keep in mind is that Illanya doesn’t really conventionally sleep, and most of her dreams feel more like vivid hallucinations or night terrors. Mostly of her past working as a Death Knight, her torture or so on. She’s not having a good time ahaha.
The woods are thick, shadows looming and twisting in ways that shouldn’t be possible. Nipping at heels and sending shivers up unsuspecting spines. Despite the hostile environment, a figure clad in armor strides easily over thorn and bush, surprisingly silent for what should be a clunky, clumsy thing.
Even so, one would find a requirement to meet the figure stride for stride, step by step. As if they’ve become the shadow of this imposing warrior. They lead over wooded path and rocky ground, never once faltering in their strides. It’s unnatural, one might realize, that this warrior can keep going, never once slowing to rest.
Eventually though, they do slow drawing to a clearing and eventually stopping, a helmed head swinging from side to side. From the ground below and crawling from the shadows are shambling corpses, garbed in bent and rusted armor.
Their groans and speech is harsh to the ear, in a language that sounds different. Harsh and mean. The figure nods, waving a dark gauntlet as if beckoning something. More barebones dead creatures shuffle forwards, dragging a figure, covered in dirt and blood forwards.
Freed for a moment from the shadows, perspective is permitted to change, a clear sight of the warriors helm and front can be seen. They reach up, unlatching the helm and revealing the ashen face underneath.
Her expression is cold, seemingly calm as she sets the helm aside in favor of palming a battle axe. Illanya lifts the battle axe over her head, and for a moment, a flicker of sorrow, of regret could be seen before those white eyes zero in on the watcher. The intruder in this nightmare.
A snarl and the axe slams down inches away from the other, and the undead stomps forwards, the legion of living corpses focusing on the commotion with interest.
“Why are you here?” Her voice is rougher, colder and angrier, and filled with anguish. As if the very thought of someone bearing witness to this tormented the undead warrior.
“Leave!”
⬇️ {AOUGH That was fantastic omgg. She is definitely going to have a very startling awakening I think haha! Thank you so much, that turned out awesome!}
(sorry that took so long, I thought I had a clear idea but I ended up struggling, I hope it turned out alright)
As with most dreams, Justice doesn’t think to question his bizarre surroundings. Rather he finds it almost familiar, comfortable to travel alongside -yet always a few steps behind- a strong warrior, striding forward with a sense of purpose. Though there’s this odd feeling pulling at his feet with every step- like he doesn’t belong here, like he should turn back. He can’t do that, of course, he’s here with a duty!
It’s only at the appearance of the walking corpses that he realizes the nature of this vision, when he tries to fire a spell against them only to find he can’t will himself to move, forced to stick to the warrior’s side. Justice can only watch in silent horror, eyes wide as the corpses begin to speak. This has to be a nightmare, now that they’ve stopped moving and he can take in the blurry unnatural scene around them, but if he’s realized that, why isn’t he waking up?
Because it’s not his challenge- it’s hers. Justice lurches forward as he’s suddenly freed from whatever kept him rooted in place, catching himself from stumbling and looking straight up into Illanya’s face as she removes her helm.
If this were real life, there’s no chance he’d recognize Illanya as the cheerful paladin he’d once briefly met, but in a dream it makes perfect sense that she’s suddenly transformed into this intimidating undead warrior. A look of relief comes over Justice’s at seeing her familiar and (at one point) friendly face, replaced just as quickly by not fear, but worry at the heartache clear in her voice. He may not know exactly what’s going on, his head still feeling dull and hazy, but he can tell she’s hurting. There has to be something he can do.
Justice has to force himself not to flinch at the axe coming down, but his feet remain planted firm, as literally as he can manage in this dreamlike state. “No,” he says, though it comes out more of a mumble than he would’ve liked. “You know this couldn’t- I wouldn’t be here for no reason. M… maybe I was brought here to help you? I- I want to help you.”
Justice has been taught wards by his mentors to stave off waking dreams like these, suffering them himself, but whether they’d work from inside one or even affect the undead at all, he doesn’t know. His heart wrenches just thinking about the anguish in her voice before. It’s no surprise she can’t see this for the vision it is, Justice can only imagine she must be clouded by what she’s feeling. He wants to reassure her that it's not real, but to her it is, or at least was. All he can think to do is snap her out of it, force her back to her physical body.
"Sorry-" he says, able to raise his hand this time- directly against Illanya. Justice squeezes his eyes shut tight and calls on his own magic, his palm illuminating with a blinding white flash of light that blows even this nightmarish landscape out of shadow.
(short prompt cause brain broke, but honestly do whatever, as long as it's somewhat relevant to Justice)
One finds themself in almost endless darkness, though there’s a slow kaleidoscope of dim colors, almost as if one is simply looking at the back of their eyelids. Somewhere ahead of the visitor a woman sits in a chair. Her skin is red, horns curling from her head- a demon, perhaps glamored into a more palatable form, but her true monstrous nature is clear to all but the most magically inept, a power so strong it’s almost tangible. And sitting on the ground before her is Justice. The paladin doesn’t seem afraid, leaning into her skirts. Rather than the promises of power and wealth that usually come of a demon trying to seduce a hero, it sounds more like words of comfort, one hand stroking his hair in a way that would almost seem motherly, if one didn’t know better. Justice, for his part, is too absorbed in her words to take any note of the visitor.
(srry if it's kinda clunky n short, i needa get some sleep lol....
Merlin’s arm reached out into the vague, yet vast darkness, in order to get a feel of where he was. He wasn’t floating around, but standing on two feet perfectly fine. It was an awfully strange place to have a dream, but soon he’d know the reason why.
He brings his feet forward, stepping along the darkness with his hands in his pockets to assess the situation, yet he halts at the sight of two figures in the distance. He didn’t recognize them one bit, in fact they looked strange compared to the average humans that he was used to. A paladin and a demon-like woman, almost something out of a silly little fantasy book he would’ve read as a kid. While they were unfamiliar to Merlin, just by observing the situation, he was able to assume quite a bit about these two.
The paladin was on his knees in front of the demon, being ‘comforted’ in a way through the woman’s words of assurance and her hand running through his hair. Seemed like this was the same dream being held by the paladin, based on what was happening to him at the very moment. Was the darkness simply there to direct all focus on the woman before him? It seemed so. He just seemed so.. enveloped within the sweet nothings and touch of the demon. Merlin had almost felt bad for the man. While this dream must’ve been absolutely everything to the poor paladin, the shotgunner only saw it as something incredibly miserable.
Once again, it was all sourced from Merlin’s own perspective of the situation, but he couldn’t help but sense that the woman that was consoling the kneeling man was far from what the man made her out to be; the woman wasn’t doing all of this for the reason that the man thought she was doing it for. Yet, Merlin couldn’t find out the truth for himself, after all, it was nothing but a dream. Perhaps it would even be selfish of Merlin to ruin this ‘sweet moment’ all for his own curiosity. All he could do was stand and watch, and hope neither of the two would notice him. Deep down, Merlin hoped that the young man would get what he so desperately wanted and deserved in a proper way. Not encapsulated within his own dreams where he would soon wake up and realize none of it was real, and most likely far from the truth.
“Not like this..” Merlin’s thoughts leaked out into his speech through a small whisper, walking backwards and away from the two.
for np: wrote an absurdly long prompt here. spoilered for violence but also because yeah it is very long. because it is so very long, you don't actually have to use the prompt since it is so specific, but maybe this gives you a vague idea of what he dreams about. oh what a little goofball!
Sunset. A desolate street of a city. A mass of bodies lay in the middle of the street, with faces that were almost unidentifiable. They were all featureless in facial structure. While some varied in height, weight, and shape, most of them wore similar outfits. Whether it be full military gear, a two piece-suit with a bullet-proof vest on the inside, or some other type of armored getup, it was all the same. The bodies were almost in a trail of sorts, being connected by flowing blood from various bullet holes in each body. At the end of the trail, was yet another one of these men, but the only difference was that the featureless man was alive, and chasing after Merlin, who seemed to be the only person who had a recognizable face other than yourself, who just so happened to be right near the scene, but neither of the fighting individuals noticed you.
The ex-Marine didn’t take long to neutralize the unknown man, grabbing him by the shoulder and pulling him close. He butted the barrel of his handgun into the man’s stomach, before pulling the trigger. Boom, down. The victor of the battle hesitates for a moment after confirming that the other man was dead, before pushing the now lifeless body off of him, onto the cold pavement with the rest of the other bodies. Merlin heaved, gasping for air. No doubt, the path of cold carcasses was all his doing.
As he slowly turns to face you, he instantly notices your presence, eyes widening, and his right hand, still clutching his pistol, goes to aim directly at you. Those mechanical fingers, you swear you see them try to pull the trigger, but it only clicked as he pressed down. Out of bullets, it seemed. But if it were loaded, you would’ve been awake by now. Upon his realization that he was out of ammo, and also the fact that you were not one of the faceless men in armor, his right arm lowered. His face quickly changed to an expression of worry and surprise.
“I’m.. sorry. I didn’t mean to.. do that..” Merlin squeaks, dropping the empty pistol at his feet. If you knew him, this wasn’t like him at all. He seemed more.. scared. Embarrassed. Perhaps he was shocked to finally see another comprehensible face in this odd dream, that he couldn’t even act like himself. “You saw all of that, didn’t you?” His head tilts towards the bodies behind him, “I’m sorry.” Merlin repeats, his hand reaching into a pocket in his jacket, pulling out a series of photos. He looks down at them instead of looking at you, not even showing the pictures to you. Regardless, you can observe him smiling at them, even just a little bit, before he frowns again. “I need to protect him from what I keep bringing upon myself. I can’t let what happened in the past happen again. I’m not ready for it.” He admits shamefully, shaking his head. Merlin’s hands subtly tremble as they hold the photos between his fingertips. His words are vague on what exactly he’s talking about, but his motive seems somewhat clear.
A man whose wrists were constricted by broken cuffs, his hands were covered in blood that wasn’t his. He had a taste of living like a human being once, and he loved it. As much as he wants to savor it, those blurred faces pull him back again, and again, and again.. Until the moment he could find the answer why.
v (BROOOO that is so fucking amazing waghhhh i love it 😭😭)
Suneater3162 - As per the 12-hr mark, here is your reminder to complete your claim! By 24-hrs, if you have not finished writing your response, you can be skipped by the next person.
There is a unique sense of weight that Illanya has found when experiencing shared dreams, only ever often encountered during expeditions into the Feywilds. The sense of normalcy despite the fact that nothing is as it should be. It’s only because of her experience that she can recognize it as a dream.
The way her mind easily accepts the unusual roads and buildings is a clear indication that all is not right in this dream. That perhaps, like once before, she was the trespasser. The sounds of combat, of a battle draw nearer, and the knight does not budge, instead drawing her axe, tensely prepared to lash out at the first sign of trouble.
There us a slight twitch as Ibis enters her view, bloodied, battered, and having certainly seen better days. The axe lowers and she steps closer, concern in her eyes. The concern triples as the other turns back to the fight, preparing for the worst.
“You’re going back into that?!” She asks incredulously, her grip on her battle axe and shield tightening. Even if this was a dream, the knight still wouldn’t let this woman go to her final death. A sigh.
“Well, I’m not going to let you run back into the fray like this… not alone.” She grumbles and reaches out, pressing a gloved hand to the other’s back before Ibis can protest.
Warmth eases the aches and pains, closes some of the shallow cuts and fixes the slight limp the other had carried. Illanya pulls away with a sigh, looking a little wearied.
“Alright, better. Let’s go!” She says with a slight smile, hefts her battle axes and heads right towards the chaos and fire Ibis had come from.
(@ NP, Here's a fun little prompt (Edited it and adjusted because of reasons haha!) Feel free to use it, or disregard if you have another idea.)
One finds themselves before a beaded curtain, over the head of the doorway, curious symbolism, and embellishments focused on a singular eye are engraved. Just beyond the curtain is Illanya, her clothing slightly different than before, more geared towards the cold and winter, from what it seemed. She looks back, and through the viewer, those green-gold eyes unseeing but uneasy, completely unaware of what follows her.
Inside, one finds they are standing and walking on a wooden bridge-like walkway, the entire space below it made up of water. Up ahead of the knight is a massive tree, its roots twisting into the water below it. Swaying from the trees are ropes, swaying, almost curling in an unseen wind. The knight ahead paid none of this any mind, her focus entirely on the base of the tree ahead.
She slows to a stop at its base, not quite close enough to touch it. Even so, the closer Illanya gets, the tenser she becomes.
“Why am I here?” Her voice carries softly through the silence of the room, reverent in its tone. Even so, it's clear something is bothering her. Something about this place makes her worry.
From behind it's easy to see as one of the ropes dangling from the trees creeps lower, down towards the knight. There is a flicker of light over Illanya's left arm, which almost appear like rope burns, wrapping over her clothes. Regardless of whether a warning is cried out to her or not, it would come too late as, the rope quickly snakes around the knight's arm, tightens, and yanks her off her feet and into the air, a frightened yelp leaving her as she's swung out over the water.
The knight seems to start thrashing in fear, more ropes being disturbed by her movements and subsequently reacting in kind, tightening around the knight until she can move no longer. A soft laugh echoes in the room, though no visible form seems to be the origin of it.
"So you have returned, Illanya Mariold. What shall I take from you this time, for the knowledge you seek?" The voice is all-encompassing in the dream, enough to shake to the core. To make the water beneath the bridge ripple, and the wooden walkways vibrate underfoot. From where one stands one can see the knight's eyes widen, the scar over her right eye starting to glow.
Though her thrashing had stopped, the way she is grinding her teeth, eyes narrowed from where she hangs. She is truly terrified.
Mandragora HATED dreams. She hated sleeping. Being in another's made no difference to her. She knew it wasn't her own, there wasn't enough- death for that. But the curtains? Those were something she hadn't expected. By Khaine, none of this she expected. She had always assumed many people only had nightmares. So this? It was almost awe-inspiring. The eyes of the Paladin? Those brought Mandragora back to the fact this was just another dream. Not to be trusted. Nothing was real, all was dangerous.
Tentatively Mandragora walked up to Illanya so she was right behind. About to lay a hand on the woman's shoulder when she spoke. Mandragora frowned at her, and with her blunt voice she responded "Do not know...what is place?" A simple question but one she needed to ask; this didn't seem ok. It was a nightmare; Illanya looked how Mandragora felt during the dreams. With a breath, mandragora slowly unsheathed her knives.
Before she could even call out to warn the paladin, the ropes struck. Mandragora gave a wordless cry of alarm, instinctively jumping away a few feet. When Illanya was tangled however, Mandragora realized her mistake in fleeing. The words meant nothing to her, they were white noise in the background of the issue. Leaping up Mandragora scrambled up Illanya's body, her knives slicing at the constraints on her arms. "No listen, is dream, not real!" she hissed at Illanya as she continued to work on the ropes. If they fell, it would be preferable to being trapped by whatever foulness this was.
NP HERES A FUN LITTLE BIT! TW for uh- gore and dismemberment. If ya don't wanna do that sorta thing, her only good dreams involve a LOT of sweets.
The dream was bitch black, and the smell of iron invaded the person's nose. The sounds of furious screams and a haunting, almost mocking laugh could be heard just outside of the person's view. Before they could move forward a loud splash can be heard and another scream, this time of pain and fear. A limb flew from the darkness, landing in front of the person's feet. It was an arm, a buckler strapped to it, at the shoulder area.
Mandragora followed, running as fast as she could from whatever was in the darkness behind her. With her hand wrapped around a bleeding stump on her left shoulder. For the first time witnessed by the person, her eyes were filled with fear. Gasping for air as she stumbled forward towards the person, her mouth moved trying to say SOMETHING, but no noise escaped her lips besides more wordless screams.
As her hand left the stump to reach out. A blade pierced through her chest. A massive spear held by a hand the size of a car had struck her from behind. From the wound a creeping corruption rolled over Mandragora's body. Slowly and painfully her entire body was covered with jagged black crystal. Once again Mandragora tried to reach out desperately wishing for help from the person before her, until the crystals enveloped her face and her body was turned into a horrid statue
"Such a weak little girl, one should know that she could never kill me" sounded from the darkness as another hand came to snatch the death statue. Pulling it backwards and out of sight.
cw dismemberment etc.!
Before he could see anything, feel anything, he could smell it: the metallic tang of blood. A familiar odor, to be sure, and one that brought with it an irrepressible sense of duty. A need to help. Of course, the horrific screams certainly made this feeling more clear. Someone needed to be saved. And he was keen to do something about it.
Squinting in the dark, Jüri stepped forward- and felt something collide with his calf. The healer's gaze flicked down at the ground, his dim field of view just enough to discern the qualities of the macabre object. A dismembered arm, its stump still pulsing with blood, veins giving up what little they had left. Grimacing, he stepped over it, searching the dark for its source. Whoever it was, they needed him, and now. They wouldn't keep their arm, certainly, but it was better than being dead. The question was- what had removed the limb? Such a thought had barely occurred to him in his blind pursuit of his wounded target, but once the idea did come to his mind, he couldn't shake it. Whoever, whatever was out there in the dark of this dream... who was to say it didn't have interest in him, too?
Abruptly, a tall woman appeared from within the inky black, clutching the stump where there was once a limb. The source of the screaming. He wanted to help her, to do what he's supposed to do, get her down on the ground so that he can work on that bleeding... but there was a reason she was running. Eyes wide with horror, Jüri stepped toward her- then stopped. Mandragora stops, too, though not of her own volition. A spear jolted through her chest, and Jüri could not help but to watch the hand that gripped it. He could hardly tear his eyes away, but did so only to see the spreading corruption of the onyx crystals. They encapsulated her, sealing her away from him, from safety, from everything. His arms limp at his sides, the healer felt all of a sudden very small and very useless. And so the woman and the hand that killed her retreat into the shadows, leaving him alone.
It looked as though his abilities were not needed here after all. Not anymore.
NP: here's a prompt for you! warning it's a bit graphic with blood/injury/death
A run-down, dirty apartment. The cramped rooms are in cluttered disarray. A shattered window is blocked by cardboard, and trash is strewn on the floor. As if you are not there, Jüri runs past you. He is wearing his medic's uniform, the pristine white a stark contrast to the grime of the surrounding environment. He is running with a purpose, his eyes alight with fear- it's a strange look for him, for one so ordinarily stoic. It looks wrong on his face.
You follow the healer down a narrow hall, discarded wrappers and papers crunching underfoot. Yelling comes from the bedroom.
Sprawled on her back, a woman is here, laying on the floor. Her long, flowing hair is the same color as Jüri's, and she's got the same eyes, like algae. She has his freckles, though her features- strained with pain and confusion- are gentler than his own. Her gaze searches the ceiling, looking at nothing, frantic and rapid. The woman's throat is cut.
"Iskra--" He can't find the words. Blood gushes out, staining the already dirty carpet. Her arms flop about uselessly, and it's unclear whether she even realizes her brother is there. He hovers over her for a moment- then, determinedly, his hands find her neck. The dream tells you, if you do not already know, that this is what he does- it's his healing magic, communicated through touch. With his hands, he can make things right again, mend what is broken, heal, fix, make it like nothing was ever wrong...
And nothing happens.
"Wh..." The wound does not close. Jüri looks at his hands in confusion, slick with blood, and presses them against the pulsing wound once more. It remains open. No healing happens here. Iskra's eyes grow still, half-closed, and her movements cease, though she gurgles. As though he is convinced that it will just take time, he leaves his hands there, staring down at her, eyes round and panicked. He will not give up. But somehow, some way, his powers are not working here. Not within the confines of this nightmare.
v EEEK PLOT TWIST