tuvishan: (Default)
tuvishan ([personal profile] tuvishan) wrote in [community profile] tushanshu_logs2013-05-11 02:31 pm

the dreaming [open]

Characters: Tu Vishan and you!
Date: May 11th
Location: All over Keeliai.
Situation: Tu Vishan is attempting to reach out to the foreigner population, with... mixed results?
Warnings/Rating: Should be pretty tame. Will update if this changes.
Notes: This log is set at night, and characters are technically encountering him in their 'dreams'. He may or may not be exerting some subtle supernatural influence to make characters fall asleep, so if your character doesn't require sleep feel free to say he's done something to them. Technically, every creature in Tu Vishan would be sleeping during his little foray, so the streets are uncharacteristically empty.

This is not a predominantly plot-driven log. Tu Vishan is reaching out to people and may surrender plot details if the right questions are asked, but this is mostly part of his ongoing effort to become acquainted with people and the thread direction may stick solely to slice of life, depending on how your character chooses to direct it.

A character's 'dreamscape' should be shaped by their subconscious mind, so feel free to go wild with whatever you'd like. This includes details of their location and what their dream!selves might look like. Tu Vishan will appear to the characters as a young boy, between fourteen and sixteen years of age, and anyone he visits will have extremely peaceful dreams. It's considered a gift and a blessing to have been visited thusly by Tu Vishan, and one can expect good fortune in their futures if they are visited. Characters may also not remember perfect details of these dreams in the morning, or remember them at all. That much is up to you.





[The night is calm and still and on this night, Tu Vishan wanders.

He does not often take a form not his own, but there is a growing sense of unease in his shape, in his body, that he cannot escape. He knows it. He has felt his brethren sicken thus, and die. So for a time, when he can, he escapes. Like smoke, like a ghost, a breath, he escapes and he wanders.

The city is sleeping when he does so. He likes the cities at night, though the dimly flickering light of his shell is...

(Sad, he thinks)

--Inevitable.

He passes from house to house, between buildings and shadows. He listens.

'Keeliai' means 'Finality'. It is an irony he has never sought to correct. Instead, he stops at doors, on rooftops, in the empty rooms of old houses, and he thinks of all the lives scattered here. Small enough to be insignificant to him, but hardly that. He cannot so much as feel the patter of their movement across his back, but he is aware of each of them as a tiny heartbeat, an audible echo of life and hope.

When he finds a receptive mind, he will sometimes reach out and touch it gently. A calm, gentle reassurance. If they wish to speak with him, he is there.]
insecrets: (♆; God | out in blue and red)

[personal profile] insecrets 2013-05-12 04:14 am (UTC)(link)
[Finnick is kneeling on sand, cold water lapping up and soaking him with each wave. It's an ocean, but not. It's a beach, but not. Everything's contained, like an arena. And in the water, both too close and too far away from him, bobs one girl. Her dark hair is soaked and sticks to her face, but it's her green eyes that stand out. Wide and full of terror. She screams his name over and over, thrashing in the water.

He knows this is a nightmare. Annie is a great swimmer. She won because she could swim.

But he also knows she's in there because of the Capitol. Torturing her, torturing him.

He holds his hands over his ears to stop her screams - and it sounds like Katniss, too. And Johanna. Mags. He's frozen and he can't help them, can't save Annie. Can't be there for him. He's weak.]

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dungfu: (But I know every rock tree and creature)

[personal profile] dungfu 2013-05-12 04:58 am (UTC)(link)
[What dreams does a god have? Everything from repainting the entire land of Nippon to be a beautiful, wonderful world for all the mortals, to being able to have some time to herself, to make a new child.

Nothing special, just simple dreams for a god who has simple wants in life.

Right now, she's just dreaming of home. The Celestial Plain. Watching the monkey trio annoy her tiger son. Curling up with Ushiwaka and surveying what home had become over the past two hundred years. Attempting to steal Yumigami's mochi before it's even ready and getting whacked by the mallet.

Basically, what she would have done if she were still at home and not on a large turtle.]

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onefouroneseven: (pic#5565634)

[personal profile] onefouroneseven 2013-05-12 04:59 am (UTC)(link)
[ Soranik always dreams of Korugar.

Most nights it's a nightmare, and she can map out the path they take easily now - Sinestro a constant presence in them all. They've worsen since she found out her heritage - whispers in her ear of how he's so proud until she wakes in a cold sweat and has to make sure the ring on her finger is green instead of yellow.

Tonight is no different, although the streets of her beloved planet are empty as she walks through them - unease and reassurance swirling around her in a confusing mix of emotions. ]

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demon_brat: (Down but not out. Yet. (Robin))

[personal profile] demon_brat 2013-05-12 05:06 am (UTC)(link)
[It starts out as a bad dream. It starts out as a dream where they are just out of reach, Grayson, Father, Mother, Drake, Cassandra, Brown, Pennyworth. Rayner. Chase. Frost. He cannot reach them in time, and watches them come down, one by one, brought down by a small figure of great familiarity, and Damian is fighting his way closer. But he's too late, and even he has limits.]

[There are shots. His legs give away. Again, and he falls, prone, in the mud.]

[It's not a nightmare. Damian Wayne doesn't have nightmares.]

[But it's not a good dream.]

[He's lying there, panting, waiting for the next attack (he let Grayson down, there would be nobody to save him...) when it... doesn't come.]

[It's warmer. The mud under his cheek now is softer, and he blinks and focuses to realize there is soft, very green grass growing there. Sensation trickles down his legs again, and he can fold them under him and look around.]

[There's no trace of the fight, before. He is in one of the big, lush gardens he'd visited in India, a lesson in colors and hues for his art, but also a rare moment of genuine, uncomplicated beauty he'd had, as younger.]

[He's not alone inside it now, however. There is a boy, about the age of the other Grayson, though a little taller. Who's watching him.]

[Damian looks around some more, then his look falls on the stranger again. His tone is... less sharp than it would have been, but it's not light, either.]


What did you do?

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traitre: (00x02)

[personal profile] traitre 2013-05-12 06:59 am (UTC)(link)
[ as usual, he dreams of the universe -- though there are too many times when he's plagued by an overly-sensitive conscience (and dreams of betrayal, death, and a burning world) this is mercifully not one of those times.

the krosmoz are ever-infinite and their scope beyond any imagination, and yet qilby finds the endless expanse of space comforting. cozy, even. how could anyone call this a lonely void, when there're more stars and gently-luminescent planets to fill it up than there are lives that've ever been lived?

as he drifts among the stars like a leaf in the eddies of a stream, he reaches out and touches a planet -- one here and another there -- and snuffs out their candlelight. billions dead at a whim. it's a thought that might weigh on the conscience of a lesser man but they don't understand, quite like he does, the way the universe works. as quickly as he steals life it's replaced, and the fact that it ever passed at all goes unnoticed by the krosmoz as it keeps on turning its endless cycle.

now what could be more natural, more wonderful than that? why, it's enough to keep the eliatrope entertained for an entire night-- or an eternity. ]
Edited (3am is the best time to write tags) 2013-05-12 07:03 (UTC)

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meanandgreen: (Running for it)

[personal profile] meanandgreen 2013-05-12 08:06 am (UTC)(link)
[The city is a blur of light and noise, churning like clockwork in the streets far, far below the blackened New York rooftops. Windows glow like a mosaic of mirrors and fireflies, staring out from their hulking skyscraper shadows. The smell of sewage and car exhaust, drifting clouds of grease-smoke from fried food stands blow heavy through the summer air.

It's a beautiful night to die.

Raphael is sprinting at a dead run, scrabbling for purchase against the rough concrete rooftops. It's like his body is made of jello, and someone, something is chasing him. Rooftops melt to sewer tunnels, fading into Keeliai streets and back again to New York alleyways. All the while, Raph can't seem to get his body to cooperate. His hands don't grip the building ledges. Sewer water is like wading waist-deep cement. And all the while he can feel his brothers laughing at him for being so freakin' slow.

If this was real, Raphael would be mad as hell. He'd turn around and fight. But in his dream, he's just scared. Desperate. The thing, the demon chasing him is relentless on his heels, hovering like a shapeless black cloud just a few feet behind.

Gasping for breath, he leaps off another building, slips and falls face-first into bottomless sewer water.]

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fotia: (THIS BURNING DESIRE)

[personal profile] fotia 2013-05-12 08:07 am (UTC)(link)
[Leo finds himself in a simple tool shed, boxes of gears and bolts stacked on shelves and on the floor, wrenches and pencils and unfinished car mechanical parts littering a simple workstation. It's not as huge as Bunker 9, and the tools are definitely a lot less awesome, but if asked which place he would rather work in he will always, always choose this one, this tiny tool shed that witnessed so many days and nights filled with hard work and endless laughter and a mother and son's warm and tender love.

Okay, so, Leo's pretty used to random dreams. It's how the powers that be communicate with demigods, after all. It's sometimes not so bad when they need mysterious clues they won't understand until the last moment. Not so much when the evil guys try to hijack them.

So he can tell when a dream is just a dream, or a message from some otherworldly power. So he looks around and, sure enough, spots an unfamiliar boy in the premises.]


Right! [Huh. He doesn't know who this guy is, but he's more surprised that he's even getting this dream at all. The gods couldn't reach them here, could they? But whatever, he'll ask that later.] Right, there you are. So! What's up? What have you got for me?
Edited 2013-05-12 08:13 (UTC)

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refusing: (story of how I die)

[personal profile] refusing 2013-05-12 08:09 am (UTC)(link)
[Rose dreams of adventure. Not the usual one that she and the Doctor went on, but one where it's nothing but fields of applegrass and a star shower burning across the sky up above. She's sprawled out on a brown trenchcoat, it's owner nowhere to be found. Despite the beautiful scenery around her, there are tears in her eyes. This place isn't meant to be seen alone.

And yet, here she is, all alone.

It's her subconscious giving her a friendly reminder of her current situation.

Hardly any distance away at all, a star crashes down into applegrass, and despite earth and light bursting all around her, Rose is left unharmed. A golden stream of light radiates out of the crash site and floods over toward her, surrounding her in a protective and warm embrace that reminds her of the regeneration of the time lord she left behind.

It's enough to get her to get her to move to her feet, finally standing on her own.
]

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traumatizing: (pic#605215)

[personal profile] traumatizing 2013-05-12 09:59 am (UTC)(link)
[Terry's dreams are almost always nightmares, although not often based around his own fears. (Those ones are always weirdly comforting in a way he prefers not to talk about.) He's not having one of those dreams tonight though, tonight it's what he dreamed of when he first arrived in Keeliai. Home, with his parents and his brother. Before he got acclimatized and the dreams changed.

Somewhere familiar and calm - it's jarring enough that he recognizes it for what it is and sighs, he can't really enjoy the dream to its fullest if he knows that's all it is. But it feels the same as he remembers; same countertops in the kitchen, same dishsoap, same weird smell from the oven that hung around after it had been used no matter how much they cleaned it. It's enough that this is home, so he should probably make the most of it. Terry turns on his heels, off to explore the house and see if anyone else is in.

And there's someone there, which catches him completely off guard]


--Hey. [He stares at the kid, trying to figure out if it's someone he knows. He looks about the same age his brother would be now, so] Are you one of Billy's friends?

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wintershepherd: (dreams)

[personal profile] wintershepherd 2013-05-12 03:24 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Jack is walking, which is strange because he prefers to fly but something is wrong and he feels oddly disconnected from everything, including the wind.

He stops at the Warren and sees Bunnymund playing with Sophie as she cradles the multicoloured eggs to her chest and laughs, her plastic fairy wings hanging askew over her shoulders without a care in the world. Jack raises his hand to call out to them but nothing comes out, and he runs into something that forces him to stop, kept away from approaching them. "He wasn't all a bad sort," Bunny is saying. "Just a bit of a dag, is all. Gonna miss that galah..."

Somehow Jack knows that they're talking about him, he turns and runs. He passes a hooded man in green leather who sends a hail of arrows to follow his heels, and the spirit knows guilt.

He stops at the Tooth Palace, the scene there electrifying him as a familiar brown-haired girl sits in Tooth's lap, and the Fairy cradles her gently, murmuring reassurances. Jack hurls himself into the barrier but it won't yield, and nothing comes out when he tries to yell to them. "I'm so sorry, little one," Tooth says kindly. "Please try to understand... I have to take the memories. He wasn't meant to be."

Jack silently screams himself hoarse before he runs again, and this time instead of arrows there are burning green chains lashing out at him, driving him away and he knows betrayal. He feels like he can't run any farther, but he tries anyway.

He stops at the Pole's Workshop and sees North resting a fatherly hand on Jamie's shoulder. The young boy's face is red from excessive crying, brown eyes puffed but filled with hurt. "Try to keep chin up," North is saying, rubbing Jamie's back comfortingly. "We are still here for you. You can count on us."

Jack can do little more than slump against the barrier here that keeps him out, stays there until golden streams of sand come down and lift him up into the air and he feels (dares) a touch of hope, mutely cries Sandy! Sandy is that you? Is this a dream?

The sand streams turn black, wrapping around his throat until he can't breathe and knows fear. "It is a nightmare," comes Pitch's voice from everywhere and nowhere at once as Jack's dream-consciousness falters and dims. "There are only nightmares now..."

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tactile_telekinesis: Made by <user name="nebulosities"> ([90's] And your point is?)

[personal profile] tactile_telekinesis 2013-05-12 03:53 pm (UTC)(link)
[Kon's dreams often depended, like a lot of people, on the state of mind he was in before falling asleep. Lately, that's been pretty much constantly up and down since a few months ago. Sometimes there's horrible nightmares with a voice in his head repeating things over and over, where he has no control.

But tonight there's no nightmares and this time he's on the beach back in Hawaii. He knows it's a dream, it's one of those things were even dreaming you just know. Maybe because he doesn't belong there anymore and so in this world he still feels like he's doing something he shouldn't. But the sand felt good and the air felt clean. He sighs and flops back onto the sand and sprawls out. It felt good. It felt...right? Somehow. He wasn't sure.

He didn't stay like that for long before he sat up with a small frown.
]

Dude, I'd stay there if I was you, don't want you blocking out my rays.

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district7: (to conquer every mountain shown.)

[personal profile] district7 2013-05-12 04:06 pm (UTC)(link)
[Like many on the turtle, Johanna is no stranger to nightmares. Hers are rarely so intense that she awakens during the night, never so much that it ends in panicked screaming. They are more subtle, more effective in making her feel like she hasn't slept despite not waking once through the night. Tonight is different, though.

Tonight, Johanna dreams of dreaming.

A specific dream, lucid and bright, like a painting that has been blurred, water thrown on the oils to make them swirl together. The morphling IV in her arm is responsible, and she lifts a heavy arm to scratch where the needle sinks into her skin. She is in thirteen, the hospital wing, shortly after her stint in the Capitol. There's no one with her and she is too tired to care.

It is the last place she felt safe and secure, under the itchy hospital sheets and florescent lighting. She turns on her side, watches the colors of her cotton pillow blend with her hand and buries her head back in to dream of nothing. The questions will come soon enough.]

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animalhats: (pic#5959902)

[personal profile] animalhats 2013-05-12 05:20 pm (UTC)(link)
[ Molly's dreams were not very happy, tonight. Not frightening, as some of them are - there aren't any bad guys trying to attack her friends, none of her friends are dying while she can't do anything - but not happy. She's racing through rooms and places that shouldn't be connected: her house, Alex's house, the undersea cavern where their parents died, the hostel, the hideout under the museum. And she's calling names and not finding any of the people she's calling for.

When Tu Vishan brushes against her mind, though, her panicked search calms, and she stops running, looking around like she expects someone should be in the room of portraits she's stopped in.
]

Hello?

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mrsarcastic003: (No Mask Thoughtful)

[personal profile] mrsarcastic003 2013-05-12 05:42 pm (UTC)(link)
[Even in his dreams, Tim isn't very good at resting. It's Gotham--always Gotham--and it's a busy night for a vigilante. The fact doesn't make him especially happy or unhappy. It just is. It's Gotham, and it's busy, and the sun rises in the east.

He's in the middle of a gang in an especially rough neighborhood when things... change. The thugs vanish, and so does the alley. Instead, he finds himself in a darkroom--his darkroom. The one he'd had when he was still just a kid, following Batman and Robin around like... He can admit it now, a kind of creepy little stalker.

He smiles a little, running his fingertips over the edge of a table, and wondering how he got here, of all places.]

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hackingyoursensors: Young Justice, Robin and Batman smiling while standing side-by-side (DG • PB; strategery)

[personal profile] hackingyoursensors 2013-05-12 06:45 pm (UTC)(link)
[Dick's dreams are always scattered. Tonight, it starts out as a nightmare, one that's been haunting him for weeks.

He's on a rooftop in Gotham, looking out over a city that's burning. Below him, the zombies that had plagued Tu Vishan only a few months ago were swarming, climbing the fire escapes, breaking into windows below. There was screaming. Sirens. A group had reached the top of the building and Dick is alone. There's nowhere to run. He doesn't even have his Robin suit. To top off his nightmare, the stars are going out. The yellow impurity. He'd failed Kyle.

And he was going to die again. He closes his eyes.

When he opens them, he's in his bedroom in Wayne manor, the pale spring dawn filtering through the windows. Scattered among the stately furniture are Dick's possessions, bright pops of color in an otherwise generic room.

It takes him less than a second to realize that he's not alone. There's an unfamiliar boy with him.]

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alpha_squad_leader: (Default)

[personal profile] alpha_squad_leader 2013-05-12 06:50 pm (UTC)(link)
[Nightmares were common among the students of the X-Men and Victor was no exception. He often plagued by nightmares and woken up in the middle of the night. But that didn't mean he didn't have good dreams as well. Like tonight's.

Vic's pretty sure this is a dream because the building he's standing on is gone. He's on the roof of the Xavier Institute, in his favorite sunbathing spot specifically. Down below, classmates are enjoying a warm and sunny day as well and Vic can't help but smile as he watches. Taking a seat on the edge of the roof, he settles on enjoying the show for now. And in this particular dream, both of Victor's arms are normal. He doesn't let the spiky 'Popeye Arm' bother him much but sometimes he's without it in his dreams.
]

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idkmybffpyramid: (pic#5742536)

[personal profile] idkmybffpyramid 2013-05-12 07:37 pm (UTC)(link)
[It's work that Reno dreams of, which probably says a lot about him. Back in the Turks' heyday when they were a respected department, rather than a necessity folded into the jurisdiction of a man who would barely stretch to pay four of them. (He hasn't even started growing out his ponytail yet.)

He's got a couple of new recruits under him and he's eagerly going through their assignments, looking for the best way to both get the best out of them, and to make their lives miserable. It's what they did to him when he joined up, after all.

The offices are full of life - largely aided by coffee in a few cases - people talking shop or taking a break. He's in his element here.]

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aloadeddie: (are you sure about this?)

[personal profile] aloadeddie 2013-05-12 11:04 pm (UTC)(link)
[Arthur hasn't dreamed without the use of somnacin in a few years, so finding himself in a dream like this - well, it's surprising, to say the least, but Arthur is an experienced lucid dreamer.

His first assumption is that someone has pulled him into a dream, but a check of his totem proves that's not the case. He's just dreaming. His own dream, well-ordered, like his mind. Clean lines, a lot of sunlight, some kind of modern building. A library, maybe.]


All right, what's going on?

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cmdreffingshepard: (i don't understand)

[personal profile] cmdreffingshepard 2013-05-12 11:08 pm (UTC)(link)
[Shepard's dream is a dark, shadowy forest, a forest filled with figures and voices of everyone she failed to save.

So when the forest lightens a little, and the voices fade away, and she starts to feel at peace, she leans against a tree and looks around, wondering vaguely why this one is different. Why the fear and the unrelenting feeling of failure is fading from her gut.]


There's always a catch.

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shorttempered: ([Mark] Can't believe I did that)

[personal profile] shorttempered 2013-05-13 03:58 am (UTC)(link)
[Mark's dreams were mainly nightmares: reliving his girlfriends murder, reliving destruction of cities, reliving atrocities that didn't occur at all...

But tonight, thanks to Tu Vishan, he's simply sitting on the roof of his house, staring up at the stars, as he and Eve do whenever they have the chance.

It takes him a moment to notice the boy, about Oliver's age (minus the purple-tinged skin), and he flies down to meet him.]
...Did I kill you?

[Oh right, I totally left out the guilt-filled dreams where he imagines the lives of all of the people that get killed as collateral damage by his fights.]

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dracobin: (flight)

[personal profile] dracobin 2013-05-13 05:17 pm (UTC)(link)
[He is smaller in this dream, smaller even than he is in Keeliai: two or three weeks out of hatching at most, and his harness is not a proper harness at all, but a makeshift thing of leather and ship's rope.

He is flying, he thinks, through a storm; the wind buffets him to and fro, and he cannot make out the familiar shape of the Reliant, which he knows instinctively must be there, through the blinding sheets of rain. Instinctively he attempts to stretch out his wings, to gain some altitude--perhaps to breach the lowering clouds entirely and find sun on the other side--but another gust sends him tumbling, and it takes all the energy he has to right himself again.

If there is a passenger on his back, he does not know it, yet.]

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jacketswag: (◉ am i everything you need?)

[personal profile] jacketswag 2013-05-13 10:51 pm (UTC)(link)
[Most nights, when Guy isn't too tired to dream, he dreams peacefully. Tonight's home - Oa, that is, more or less, with a beer and a little light reading. He's alert, but not paranoid, looking up every once in a while as he flips a page.]

[He's fifteen pages from the end when he sees the kid who, somehow, doesn't surprise him much. He raises an eyebrow.]


Need somethin'?

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histruename: (Werewolves...)

[personal profile] histruename 2013-05-14 08:08 am (UTC)(link)
[Africa. Perched over a rocky outcropping, the dry desert winds threaten the coming storm. You can already hear it. Not thunder, but drumbeats on the horizon, the massive stomping of an army, grinding the earth to dust.]

Anang yuggor nogoth habbeth...

[Heavy clouds hang low and black across the horizon, casting the land into early night. Lightning cracks the world in half.]

...ammem Anung Em-Ett...

[He can hear the sound of giants. The hungry gaze of lions stalk the skies. Memories of dreams within dreams roil from above. Never dare to set foot or hoof here again. And now we'll give you scars so you remember...]

...Anung Ess...

[And then it's there. That evil, hulking, thing. Flames pour from its lips, towering horns curl up toward the sky, a crown wreathed in fire upon his brow. Massive wings banish the world to shadow. It stares with soulless eyes, but its face is his face. This creature, this thing...

is who he was born to be.

You are the sentence of ruin...

The great beast...

You cannot escape your destiny!
]


...Anung Un Rama

[The Earth trembles with the sound of the ending of the world. And the creature, riding upon a dragon with sword in hand, tilts its head to the sky and bellows to shake the heavens.

Hellboy, like a flea in the shadow of the enormity, won't go down without a fight. He yells back at the creature from his little desert cliff.]


You want a piece of me, you son of a bitch? Come and get it!

[Then, suddenly, the skies open up and the sun is shining. He can hear the breath and crash of the ocean not far away. Shocked by the sudden shift, Hellboy turns, mouth slightly agape, and finds the little boy.]

You're not supposed to be here.

[But he says that kind of wryly. It's far from the first time his dreams had visitors. Probably won't be the last. And he knows this kid doesn't belong.

He takes a moment to straighten, relax. All that crap is gone, for now. And all that's left--he looks around--not bad.]


You do this?
Edited 2013-05-14 08:22 (UTC)

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[personal profile] notamachine 2013-05-14 05:48 pm (UTC)(link)
[His dreams haven't been peaceful in a long time. They're usually filled with biting cold, blood and terror, and even his best and quietest dreams are at least tinged with an undercurrent of unease. Tonight, his dreams are just black, a vast and open emptiness. To Dean, the lack of anything going on is more comforting than just about anything else his mind could conjure up. Dean half stands and half floats in the darkness, dimly aware of another presence. Well. It's not the first time someone has messed around in his dreams.]

I'm guessing you have something to do with this.

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thetyrant: (relief)

[personal profile] thetyrant 2013-05-16 07:00 am (UTC)(link)
[Logan's dreams are torn and ragged and dark, nightmares, until Tu Viashan finds him. He dreams of the Crawler, like always, hissing horrible things in his ear and consuming him, making him relive those hours in Shadelight, swinging his sword blindly at something he couldn't find as his men dropped like flies around him.]

[But then it gentles, and fades into Fairwinds, the capital and main seaport of Samarkand, a southern, mostly desert country. But the city is humid and heavy and hot, the night still bright and lively. He walks through the streets, smiling, laughing in a way he's forgotten how to do in his waking hours. There are street performers and fortune tellers and merchants selling their wares from beneath canopies. He stops before a teenage boy sitting on the ground.]


Hello. What do you have for us, then? [People always have something for the young, handsome, visiting king of Albion.]

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