(Not at all. Feel free at any time.)Originally Posted by shadow_strike
(And Big Boom, it's fine for them to just start posting whenever. Only problem is if they get a major role for a dream.)
(Oh, and sgt_Angua, you should probably post soon, as this dream really can't keep going without the Initial dreamer. Remember, every Dreamer's dream ultimately has to eventually tie in with the Initial Dreamer's dream.)
The room was engulfed in utter darkness. Alex saw nothing, heard nothing, and felt nothing but the straps of the straitjacket that restrained him, until a spotlight flickered to life before him and illuminated a message on the floor, written in bold black letters:
HELLO ALEX
The letters suddenly dissolved into tiny bits and seemed to scuttle back into the darkness along thousands of separate paths. The spotlight turned off, and another one turned on a short distance away. There was another message there as well, in the same black lettering:
NOW TELL ME SOMETHING ALEX
DO YOU BELIEVE IN FREE WILL?
The letters stayed in place for a moment, then silently scattered into countless black bits again and merged back with the shadows.
No third spotlight came on, as if the message’s writer was waiting for a response.
In a dark room, somewhere on an apartment floor, sat someone. This someone who refers to himself as Polo was evermore engrossed into the brightly fantastic super colours from his 'TV Monitor' computer screen. Polo stretched back on his wooden chair, the sounds of the creaks the chair emitted vibrated his delicate and thin ear drums. What an odd sensation. After all, he thought, a creak sounds like a creak, this sounded more like an abrasive smash. He brushed it off and closed his eyes. He saw 1920s Old Films swirling around as if projected onto the back of his eye lids. That was indeed a bizarre sensation. Trying to make sense of it all, he quickly opened his eyes and snapped back to the real world. Of course, when he did this he had an incredible 'closing' sensation that was sent up through the nerve impulses inside his spine which made him want to shut them again. Abstaining such feelings is never too fun, he thought.
He leant back even further now, and to his surprise, if there was any sort of surprise to be held at such an event, the sounds he heard were that of a familiar creek. He smiled. Back to the real world at last, or at least he hoped so, as the ceiling appeared to have grown a pair of eyes not too different from His own. Actually, he wasn't sure if he had put them there in the real world before he went to sleep, or logged onto his computer. He couldn't actually make sense of what he had to do any more. He sighed, and leant forward showing a sense of ascendancy over his current state of being. He tapped sharply onto the keyboard of his Computer system and brought up and ever so common web page known as "DooQle". Wait, that wasn't right, he could have sworn where D and Q were that there used to be a G and another G. Right, he thought, enough of this non-sense. He breathed a breathe of agitation and typed into the search function of 'DooQle' "Am I dreaming?". He paused, what he typed looked about right, even if it did appear in Japanese lettering. He smiled complacently and pressed Enter.
15 seconds passed.
"Ding!" exclaimed the computer. Polo looked back up at the screen, as he was looking down before with his eyes closed. The 1920's projections on the back of his eyelids came in handy when it came to long waits. He read the search results from his search activity, and as expected, it read in a big Tahoma font: "Yes, you're dreaming. Now leave this damn room and fetch us some milk would you?" Polo jumped up out of his chair, and saluted the computer as if it were a Army General. He turned briskly and proceeded towards the only door in the room.
"Oh, and by the way" mentioned the computer "You can speak now."
"Yeah, I know" said Polo "I just didn't want to ruin the mood"
He walked across to the brown door in the centre of the eastern wall and walked through. SMACK! He hit the opposing and perpendicular wall to the door sooner than anticipated, even if he hadn't anticipated such a thing. As it turned out, the room he just left led out into an extremely thin corridor for what ever reason. He sneaked down the converging walls into a very thick darkness.
"mmk, I'm not really sure what's going on but this is one hell of a dr-" He snapped his moving jaw back into its initial position before he said anything further. "Oh yeah, I probably shouldn't say that word..."
“There is no such thing as a human weird, It's just that some understanding requires more people than others” - Robbins Tom.
Strike looked around. It was a normal day but...why did she feel something terrible was going on? Shadow is probably doing something stupid...again. She looked at the phone. I should call her...
Strike picked up the phone and dialed Shadow's number. She frowned when she got voice mail. Odd, she always answers.
Strike got up, put the phone in her pocket, and headed towards the door. Maybe I should check on her... She blinked when a snake appeared on her neck. Well, it isn't posionous. She shrugged and walked out the door.
Believe in the you who believes in yourself -Kamina
(Yeah, me and bloody bomb [mayhaps i can call you "BB"? :3] should really start postin'. i cant really at the moment. tommorrow ill have my post all set uplooks really fun; ill enjoy this, but for now, ill just have to wait 'till tomorrow, when things in the RPG start picking up, i see a perfect opening, i have time, ect.)
A buzzing noise.
Followed by several more noises, all random in their own way, zig-zagging through the void.
What is this?
I began moving about and felt something. A solid wall. Built of concrete. I was in a room, yet I was still in darkness. I had no idea how big this room could be, or how small. It was as if I was floating in space.
Perhaps there is a door, a way out of this darkness. Feeling around some more, I moved down the wall, my hands groping this way and that. My entire body was on the ground and it was better to keep it that way. Better not to disturb the unknown.
(I reccomend we start bringing this together and bringing the dream to its collective world. What sgt_Angua said was that she had to avoid these 'Turtle Brothers' from another gang. Being a COLLECTIVE dream, it sooner or later has to get to sgt_Angua's affair. Also, sgt_Angua and the other major roles, including me, should step up our activity to keep this dream active. However, I really can't post until Username does.)
(Oh, really? D:> i didnt know, or otherwise i would've posted sooner! ok, where are you, bloody? where ever you are, ill join you)
(I kinda spawned unmanifested until I find a dreamer that needs my help.)
(Which dreamer? I kinda need to know your specific location so i can meet up with you and we can meet angua.)
(Everywhere. If you read my PM about Angelia tips, I recall it having an explanation on what Angelia are like. But for sense sake, let's say I manifested in the crowd that sgt_ Angua is in as... A small dog with a telltale 'Bloody Bomb' tag on my collar.)
(Alright, so I'm just gonna act like you're already there, 'kay?)
I felt Angua's dream commence. I felt her fear. I had to get to that dream. I decided to manifest myself as one of the symbols of peace; a dove. I manifested with skill untill I was perched upon a building, looking over a large crown of loud humans. I scanned the crowd, looking for Bloody Bomb. I did find Angua, looking scared. Finally, I found a dog below, with a collar that housed his name. I flew toward him.
(How's that? lemme know, so i can change some things if needed...)
(Excellent, as far as I can tell. Ima start writing my next post in Word.)
The temperature dropped as the Turtle Brothers talked, intimidating the crowd. Angua hid behind a group of people and looked nervously for an exit as the Turtle Brothers grabbed a man and threw him in the pool. She can see many doors, but has no idea where they lead.
The doors are no help since they all open inward.
(Sorry this took so long and is so short. You can pretty much walk in though any of those doors from anywhere.)
[SIGPIC][/SIGPIC]
Thanks to Varth for the sig.
I barked and ran up to the Turtle Brothers, biting one of their legs. Before he could react, I hopped back and dashed in circles around the two twins, too fast for them to catch me.
Username, I think a quick.. ahem... peck on the cheek... should distract them for a while...
One of the brothers reached to catch me, but I snapped at his arm and he recoiled.
Polo continued to walk down the narrow passage way that still remained convoluted in thin layers of darkness. It twisted around his body in a very elegant fashion, it was almost intelligent in its manner. This was very weird, because Polo was certain darkness was just lack of light, not some sort of sentient creature. He sighed and gulped, he'd best not let his fears get the best of him. It was apparent that being alone in a dark corridor and not just any dark corridor, but a corridor filled with living darkness, was never anyone's cup of tea.
As he slowly paced himself through the narrow space, his fingers gently brushed against the solid and rough material of the grey brick. He needed to make sure where he was going, and being that his eyes had turned out to be somewhat non-functional in the dark, he was left to rely on only 3 of his senses. Taste not being very handy in this situation either. He could feel the corridor to begin to widen as he felt more room behind him. It wasn't long before he could turn from his sideways slide into a forward step. His hands remained on the wall, as the darkness still seemed to be bothering him.
He still continued down the dark, now open, corridor towards what ever he was walking towards. At this point, Polo started to have some doubts. He'd better not have gone the wrong way, it felt long enough as it is. It was at this moment that the thought had entered his mind that he heard a very distinct and loud 'Meow'. Out of all the things you would least suspect to hear down a corridor, would it turn out to be a meow. Now, a person would assume the meow noise to be from a cat, and you'd be right. Cats do indeed meow. However, there was no cat to be seen, in fact, there was actually nothing to be seen. Coincidently though, out the moment that this meow had been heard, Polos eyes had started to return to functionality, he could see again. The darkness had almost gone. There was still a weird feeling around the base of his legs. Polo peered down, and to his surprise there was a black cat below him, weaving in and out of his legs. He stepped over it, and continued down the corridor, the cat followed, somewhat persistent.
"I thought you were going to stay back at the apartment?" said Polo, seemingly to himself.
"No, I decided to follow." murmured a voice in his left ear. "Besides, you're an absolute shit when it comes to collecting dairy products"
"Hey! At least I try." Polo snapped back, trying to savour his dignity. "Besides, all you do is stay back home and be a complete je-"
"Watch your language boy. You may be dreaming, but even dreams aren't safe from the law"
"Wait. What law?"
"The law that says: Shut up when I tell you to."
"Hey you didn't have to come, but nah, you blatantly just want the milk."
"Who says I do? Besides, milk is bad for cats and you know that"
Polo shrugged it off, he'd have enough of this conversation. The cat still followed behind him, purring and meowing as much as ever. The noise was pretty off putting, Polo had to concentrate while walking and the cat really wasn't helping him. He still pressed on however, not even stopping to explain to the cat that he was annoying him, he had more important things to worry about such as remembering where the milk store was. He could swear the store kept changed dependant on which direction you were looking. 'I guess its just one of those things after all' thought Polo, 'After all, it happens to everyone, right?'. Ah, who was he kidding, did anyone else live in an apartment with a mangy computer situated in the very centre under misplaced eyes? He didn't think so, but no matter how hard he tried to push himself into naivety, the more conscience he became of it.
His fingers remained against the side of the wall. The wall started to feel less rough, somewhat becoming more smooth as he proceeded further down the now capacious corridor. The brick also began to feel more cold, almost metallic in feel. How bizarre indeed, it actually was beginning to feel more like a tin can than a wall. It wasn't long, however, that he reached the very end of the corridor. This was it, this was the end. For what seemed like days, traipsing across the baron wasteland of a corridor, he had finally reached the end of his journey. All that was left now was to enter through the door that was labelled "Polo's Apartment."
Bugger.
He'd gone in a circle. He heard a laugh from behind and quickly turned around. Nothing. Only a cat and nothing more. Well there wasn't much he could do waiting outside his door, he might as well go and apologize for the waste of journey to his computer. He slowly, and precariously reached towards the brass handle of the wooden apartment door, and turned it towards the left. It didn't budge, which made no sense, he always turned the hand towards the left. That was how he opened the door, but instead for what ever reason, it decided today that it was going to be stubborn. Polo sighed, and grasped the handle tighter, this time turning it towards the right. 'This doors antagonizing days were over' he thought, as the handle turned towards the right. The door swung open, and instead of a familiar sight of a computer there was nothing but a white void. Polo gulped as he proceeded into the white light.
SMASH!
Polo opened his red shot eyes, and with an immense pain, writhing on the floor, he tried to make sense of what just happened. He tried to calm himself but he was sure everything he just experienced didn't happen, it was almost like it had been cut out of his brain. His writhing slowly died down into fidgets and then nothing. He got up, his eye sight somewhat blurred, and his stance unsteady. As he stood up right, he started to fall backwards before hitting a cold and hard wall behind him. He stopped, breathing heavily he waited for his sight to return, and just as it did it was apparent where he was. He was in an alley way, and in front of him was a green dumpster. It was opened up and had a spherical dent on the under side of the lid. Beside the dumpster sat a very familiar cat, still purring as much as ever. Polo looked down and steadied himself by placing his hands on his knees. He coughed, and scratched his head. Oh yeah, he remembered, he lived in a dumpster didn't he? He laughed and brushed himself off and groggy limped down towards the more open part of the alley.
Last edited by Polo; December 21st, 2009 at 11:15 PM.
“There is no such thing as a human weird, It's just that some understanding requires more people than others” - Robbins Tom.
Finally my hand reached a crack of some sort. Reaching up, I found a door knob. It was made from what appears to be a cool metal.
At that moment, I felt the entire room magnify as if it was getting larger. The silence was interrupted by a lasting echo, threatening to exaggerate any sound emitted.
With this fact, I did not hesitate to open the door. Twisting the knob and pushing with all my might, I fell through; utterly engulfed in blinding white light. I was falling...falling...falling...not a breeze can be felt. Free.
I landed on something hard with a rough thud. Quickly picking up my bearings, I got up from the floor and found myself within a group of people. Looking back, I saw doors. One of them was open, leading to darkness; only to shut without a force acting upon it.
Suddenly I heard barking noise and shouting. Looking ahead, I saw fighting. A dog was biting someone...
Last edited by Tyemdi; December 22nd, 2009 at 08:21 AM.
(Can I join? I'm a new member and I thought it's best to ask first instead of jumping right in the way the rest of you are doing.)
Stars, moons and suns!
(BUMP, because this is an awesome RP. Bloody Bomb, I can't act until Big Boom posts--I sent him a PM weeks ago and he hasn't responded yet. Would you mind if I controlled his character? I don't want this game to stagnate.)
(Fair enough.)
“Y… yes,” Alex stuttered. “Yes, I do…”
Another spotlight flickered to life and revealed a third message.
GOOD FOR YOU
Like the other two, the third message then scattered into black dots. The light flickered off.
A low rustling sound began to build, starting at the places where the lights had switched on and heading toward the spot where Alex sat, cross-legged and unable to move while bound in the straitjacket. Soon his feet and legs began to tingle, as if the darkness had begun stroking his lower body with thousands of ghostly tendrils.
“What’s… who’s…” Alex started, interrupted by his own shuddering before he could finish. There was no reply. The tingling moved rapidly up to his waist, his arms, his shoulders, his neck. The tingling was felt on his bare skin now, not just on his clothing. Alex hyperventilated, and the tingling got inside of his mouth; instinctively, Alex bit down hard, and suddenly his mouth was full of foul-tasting mess and chunks of filmy carapace.
In that instant, Alex realized that the entity now swarming over his helpless body in the darkness was the same swarm of tiny dark things that had delivered him the horrible messages only a moment before—it was a horde of cockroaches, all with one mind and one goal, all under the control of some silent and invisible puppeteer.
The rustling grew louder as the roaches covered Alex’s entire head. He clamped his lips tightly shut, but the monstrous insects began to squeeze into his ear canals, pushing through cartilage and bony tissue. The rustling was like the booming of a drum, the march of a thousand bloodthirsty legions, and Alex screamed as the insects finally reached his eardrums and began to tear right through them, the first tear bringing unbearable pain and the second bringing an instant of agony until—
—suddenly there was total silence. Alex could still feel the monsters pressing out through his auditory nerves, felt their tiny legs drum against his skull, felt his skin bulge as they walked between layers of his flesh, but he heard no sound at all.
Another spotlight turned on, and this one revealed a clown with a blood-red frown painted on its face, a poofy head of hair dyed in thick rainbow streaks, and a box of sugar in its left hand. The clown poured sugar on the ground in front of him in the shape of an arrow pointing to Alex’s right. The clown opened its mouth and gave a single verbal command, inaudible to Alex—then the spotlight flickered off, seemed to hold its breath for five seconds, and turned back on.
The clown had vanished. The arrow had become totally black, covered in roaches that greedily gorged themselves on the grains of sweetness scattered across the ground—but as they had done thrice before, they panicked in the light and scattered back into the shadows.
Alex felt an odd cognizance pass through the hive that had now merged with his body, felt his legs move involuntarily toward the light. He stepped into the center of the illuminated circle—the horde within him shivered at the brightness.
The light turned off again.
Suddenly the darkness caved in on Alex, crushed him, suppressed his breathing—it was as if the air had transformed into water. He wanted to thrash around in panic but the roaches controlled his body in smooth, relaxed movements. He felt his hands close around what felt like a metal grating, felt himself wrenching it aside, felt a rush of fluid cascading downward and trying to pull him down with it, felt his hands grip the sides of the spot where the grating had been a moment before and resist the current.
***
Far above Alex, the Turtle Brothers and the dreamers they chased looked down in wonder as the swimming pool in the center of the floor began to drain away.
Last edited by Varthonai; January 11th, 2010 at 06:07 PM.
Thanks for posting for me....im sorry...wasn't on for a long time so I forgot to post....here i will post now...or what ever is left of me.
Last edited by Big Boom; January 19th, 2010 at 11:45 PM.
I'm not afraid of dying. I'm afraid I haven't been alive enough.
(Oh crap! I had started my post a while ago, but forgot to finish. Editing Now...)
If life is what you make it... you must really suck at crafts.
There were odder dreams than this. Other dreams too, that were boring. With this in mind, Porosity treasured flying.
--
He was the defender of a house from which he had long ago been evicted and forced to watch its transformation from sanctuary to hellhole. They took it from him, tore down the architecture within, sparing only the staircase curling up the walls like a dead vine. Unable to fight, he fled. His fear churned in his stomach, driving him on. Perhaps it was this same fear that empowered him to save her. She was lying in a crevasse, huddled in shock and pain. Looking at her, he noticed her dry eyes, emptied of their tears. He couldn't leave her there. So he went down the walls, taking care not to fall and go her way, which would help nobody. Soon he held her in his arms. Then he looked up and jumped.
He jumped and jumped, climbing with his feet. He kicked out on air and the periodic rock underfoot. He blinked hard in the gushing wind, straining to find his next step through the noise. The noise... Suddenly, he found himself lifting up. Cruising through the air, he moved without effort. For a little rotor had come onto his head and lifted him away. Thank you, my friend, he thought to an inhabitant of this dream, a spry old man with a potbelly which food had nothing to do with. As their helper waved goodbye, Porosity looked at the girl's face, his heartbeat pounding in his ears. He closed his eyes, moved forward and heard her heartbeat as well.
Now, in the time after that incident, he had earned the favour of a lord, her father, and amassed an army outside his old house. But he was not endowed with the element of surprise. His enemies foresaw his arrival, and gathered at the gates, what had been but a simple door, a long time ago.
He struck first. A marksman fired an arrow at the enemy general, seeking to end this battle fast. The arrow failed to hit. It was stuck in its target's hand, quivering with the energy transferred from the marksman's hand. In that instant, Porosity respected the general. This would be a hard battle against a hard power. They went to war.
Shift.
--
Porosity turned in his sleep, restless in body as his mind was. Change needed energy.
Porosity turned in the air. His army was in battle, but he had been called to this island. It was here that the enemy truly intended to conquer. The Geyser, entrance to the world's internal rages. It was only by grace that their plans had been leaked this early, allowing Porosity's allies to prepare the Mechanism. The Geyser would be a new weapon in this fight.
Though Porosity might have thought the need was unnecessary. He himself had obtained his Sword, a mystic weapon that with a flick of the hand became a pair of metal wings. Beside him was the great Flying Lizard, age-old denizen of the sky, plenty in experience and ruthlessness.
They landed beside the Mechanism. Hoses were arrayed around the ancient machine, spraying jets of seawater to dislodge dirt from the joints. Mud and murk swirled in the growing hollow below, mimicking the energies a league deeper.
Porosity relaxed, finding the instructions for this job. He pulled the water with his wings, shaping it into a sphere. Having achieved this starting point, he aimed and fired. If the hoses had been erosion accelerated, Porosity's work was a disaster's force spent in speed. The Mechanism soon glistened, the sunlight shining unimpeded on its pipes and wheels.
'Go ahead, Lizard,' said Porosity. 'We're done here, but I've something to say to the soldiers.'
The reptile nodded in obedience and powered away with leathery flaps.
Porosity turned to the workmen, currently discarding their overalls in preference for armour. 'You guys have done a good job. At this rate, I'm confident we can push the enemy away, thanks to your mastery of the Geyser's workings.'
'Nay,' shouted one from the crowd. 'Without your help, we would now be overrun.'
'It's the truth!'
'Yes!'
'Aye!'
'Praise the Hero! Praise him!' Porosity nodded good-naturedly. The cries continued to follow him as he turned around, ran and took off after the Flying Lizard.
Indeed, as dreams went, this was enjoyable.
(Man, it feels weird writing for an audience other than me.)
Stars, moons and suns!
The Clown is displeased.
The scrying mirror before the Clown, a large Vaudevillian rectangular magnifying mirror surrounded by eerie yellow lightbulbs, shows the Clown the events that are transpiring in the swimming pool. The dreamer thinks that the light in the building will be enough to escape the hive mind of the roaches. The dreamer is trying to evade the Clown's control.
The dreamer will not succeed.
Roaches don't drown that easily, Alex, the Clown thinks to itself, and neither do you.
The Clown curls its glove into a fist and punches one of the glass bulbs around the mirror. Glass shards cut through the rubber material of the glove, but no blood spurts from the wounds. The Clown casually picks the glass bits out of its glove without wincing; the rubber reseals itself instantly.
The lightbulbs appear to have been linked in series; with the destruction of one, the rest have winked out in sync. On the other side of the mirror, the lights in the building have gone out as well. There are screams and yells from the crowd.
Continue as before, the Clown commands. Though Alex never hears the command in words he feels the roaches fearfully obey; in mere moments, his body has been reassembled in a corpse-like Frankenstein's-Monster-esque form.
Take them all, the Clown orders. Bring the dreamers to me alive. Kill any others who stand in your path.
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