Sweet Dreams Are Made of These

[daemonomicon.livejournal.com]

Nighttime.

Or, at least, what passed for nighttime on the meatship.

A time when most of the crew was already fast asleep, dreaming away pleasantly throughout the night.

...Or, perhaps not. For you see, tonight, something particularly strange is happening.

Now it is not all that unusual for someone to have a nightmare, especially not on the ship.

Yet tonight, no one will sleep easily, for the Nightmare King deems it so.

Everyone's dreams will have a tinge of horror to them. Nothing so out of the ordinary to rouse one's suspicions, but at the same time, no one is left out.

Pleasant nightmares, meatship.

[ooc: And thus begins the start of the Nightmare King's spree of insanity. He's starting out subtle, of course. The nightmares won't be anything more than your run of the mill bad dream, but he is giving them to everyone. Posting in isn't mandatory, but if you want to have fun with your character's nightmare, go right ahead.]

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[enter-aeneas.livejournal.com]

((ooc: Warning! Long post is extremely long and full of wonderful character development! Having someone come wake him up is allowed and somewhat encouraged?))

Aeneas did not dream.

Okay, that’s a blatant lie. He actually dreamed a lot, and on a fairly regular basis; but the content of dreams, as programmed even in an alien’s brain, is to sift through memories, melding them together into a complex web of makeshift stories and scenarios as to prepare the host for the wildest of things.

Having a system completely dependant on memories, however, obviously poses some problems for someone with amnesia.

And so we come across the oddity that was Aeneas’s current dream.

He had fallen asleep, finally, inside the City. There was an old building with only two floors, the top one open to the air so that a pleasant (if not artificial) breeze circulated through at regular intervals. It was far more comfortable a place to settle down than even in one of the crew cabins, some of which Aeneas had stumbled upon during his casual walks around the meatship. Yet it was here, in the midst of ruin and decay, where he chose his new housing…

…Aeneas was far from the ship. He was far from Stacy, far from his new friends and acquaintances, safe in his own universe, perfectly safe and at ease. The regular gusts of air slowly melded together until it was all one sensation of gentle cooling; only then was he able to see around him.

He was in a room of sort. It was spacious yet quaint, distant if only because the walls were blurry and hard to distinguish from other possible landmarks, such as furniture. As a matter of fact it was mostly blank, possibly even empty; Aeneas felt that he was the only one there, completely alone, forgotten…

No, that wasn’t right. He was alone, yes, and he was feeling lonely, sure—but that would only come if he were expecting to be in the company of others. He was waiting for someone. But for the life of him he couldn’t remember…

And, all at once, someone was there. This one was…much larger than Aeneas, by at least a foot or so, and still they seemed thin, supple even, delicate and sweet and soft and wonderful. This one was, undoubtedly, female. A female of Aeneas’s species, no less.

Her name…what was her name? He knew she had a name—he knew she had a face, too, but even that was lost in the dream’s haziness. She was only a deep, royal blue blob upon the blank background, walking towards him slowly, seductively; after an indistinguishable amount of time she was next to him, gently pulling her webbed hand through his thick shoulder fur…

Aeneas was lying on his back, surrounded by his many tools and incomplete gadgets strewn about the cold floor. His back legs were in the air; one of them was twitching methodically, as if treading water. Needless to say, the creature was looking pretty happy with himself and his dream world (the clearest one he’d had in working memory)—for a nightmare, this definitely could be a lot worse.

Things were starting to clear up…