http://daemonomicon.livejournal.com/ ([identity profile] daemonomicon.livejournal.com) wrote in [community profile] trans_92010-01-08 09:26 pm

Sweet Dreams Are Made of These

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.]
greennotgold: (r // Save me)

[personal profile] greennotgold 2010-01-09 09:36 am (UTC)(link)
Nightmares weren't surprising, really. He'd had them regularly for a while, close to a year ago, and they resurfaced every so often. They scared Fletcher, but they were just dreams. Nothing to pay any real mind to.

That's what he usually told himself, but when it was early in the morning and he'd just woken up, it was difficult to remember.

Russel was here with him, that was the first thing Fletcher noticed when he realized he was awake. He was curled up on his side, lying next to Russel just like he had every night since they'd popped. Lying on a bed made of living flesh, wearing not pajamas but a suit made from living plants, on a ship hurtling through space, as far away from home as it was possible to get.

One could hardly blame Fletcher for reaching for his brother, burying his face in his chest, and shaking like a leaf. And all this from only an ordinary, everyday nightmare.
Edited 2010-01-09 09:36 (UTC)

[identity profile] just-like-daddy.livejournal.com 2010-01-09 09:58 am (UTC)(link)
Russel didn't wake from his, though Fletcher's movement closer to him calmed his fitfulness, and he wrapped his arm around his brother out of reflex. Arms that he was certain would always be there to protect his brother from anything and everything that would scare him or hurt him. If he had anything to say about it, if he had to go to that extra length, he would, and if necessary, this is how his arms would be.