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trans_92010-01-15 01:25 am
daemonomicon.livejournal.com) wrote in trans_92010-01-15 01:25 am
One man's mosoleum is another man's home
Tonight, once again, the dreamscape of the meatship has been altered.
However, this time, the dream was the same, no matter the dreamer, and was neither good nor bad, but simply odd.
Only a portion of the crew would have this dream, some of them intentionally, others whose mind simply happened to drift upon it in the dreamscape.
Regardless, it starts out the same for each dreamer:
The dreamer finds themselves standing on some rocky, barren world.
The "air" (for lack of a better word) is thick, so thick that the dreamer is positive it should be impossible to survive in this kind of environment. Regardless, they continue to breathe just fine, as if on Earth. The atmosphere is hazy, distorting all color.
Despite the fact that it is impossible to see more than thirty feet ahead of them, the dreamer feels compelled to move in one single direction.
After wandering for what seems to be hours, the dreamer comes across a massive fortress, alone in this desolate place. It rises thousands of feet into the air, standing imposingly, as though there were something to protect out in this dead place. It is covered in symbols of twin-headed eagles, winged skulls and stylized I's, but most noticeable is the symbol of the open book, through which a sword has pierced.
A door opens at the base of the fortress walls. It seems like more of an airlock, really, but regardless, the dreamer once again feels compelled to enter.
Once they do, they find themselves in a room, completely pitch black, save for a single light shining down from what one would assume is the ceiling. The door through which the dreamer entered is no longer visible.
Before the dreamer, in the small lighted portion of the room, is a table. On the table is a rather inviting pot of tea, with cups.
At one end of the table sat the massive, robed figure of the Seer. He seemed to be drinking something notably more substantial than the tea. The word "amasec" comes to the dreamer's mind, but they aren't sure how they know it.
At the other end of the table is an empty seat.
"Please, my child," The Seer says, motioning to the other seat. "Do join me."
[ooc: This is just Seer's way of checking up on the crew. Once again, posting isn't mandatory, but if you want your pup to meet/interact with Seer, feel free!]
However, this time, the dream was the same, no matter the dreamer, and was neither good nor bad, but simply odd.
Only a portion of the crew would have this dream, some of them intentionally, others whose mind simply happened to drift upon it in the dreamscape.
Regardless, it starts out the same for each dreamer:
The dreamer finds themselves standing on some rocky, barren world.
The "air" (for lack of a better word) is thick, so thick that the dreamer is positive it should be impossible to survive in this kind of environment. Regardless, they continue to breathe just fine, as if on Earth. The atmosphere is hazy, distorting all color.
Despite the fact that it is impossible to see more than thirty feet ahead of them, the dreamer feels compelled to move in one single direction.
After wandering for what seems to be hours, the dreamer comes across a massive fortress, alone in this desolate place. It rises thousands of feet into the air, standing imposingly, as though there were something to protect out in this dead place. It is covered in symbols of twin-headed eagles, winged skulls and stylized I's, but most noticeable is the symbol of the open book, through which a sword has pierced.
A door opens at the base of the fortress walls. It seems like more of an airlock, really, but regardless, the dreamer once again feels compelled to enter.
Once they do, they find themselves in a room, completely pitch black, save for a single light shining down from what one would assume is the ceiling. The door through which the dreamer entered is no longer visible.
Before the dreamer, in the small lighted portion of the room, is a table. On the table is a rather inviting pot of tea, with cups.
At one end of the table sat the massive, robed figure of the Seer. He seemed to be drinking something notably more substantial than the tea. The word "amasec" comes to the dreamer's mind, but they aren't sure how they know it.
At the other end of the table is an empty seat.
"Please, my child," The Seer says, motioning to the other seat. "Do join me."
[ooc: This is just Seer's way of checking up on the crew. Once again, posting isn't mandatory, but if you want your pup to meet/interact with Seer, feel free!]
no subject
Dean grinned at that, and he poured three fingers of the liquor. He downed half, but the slow rolling burn took him by surprise. Hot damn was it smoooooth. He gave a brief cough, before his face became more serious.
"Not that much, with only maybe a handful of us just knowing how bad this nightmare guy can be. Been some noise with the magic group around. Had some weird dreams recently."
no subject
Tell me, what are your opinions on possible ways of further preparing them?
The Seer had long ago learned the importance of getting other viewpoints on important issues.
no subject
no subject
As of right now, however, I believe that what the beast feeds upon is not fear itself, but the insanity brought about by it.
no subject
Dean listened, and then frowned, "Great, no handy nuthouses around so he's forcing it in here to have a buffet?"
no subject
Above anything else, the mental stability of the crew is of the utmost importance in this endeavor. If we can deprive him of power, we might have a greater chance of defeating him.
no subject
no subject
They could offer the crew training of this sort, to deprive the King of the insanity he craves.
no subject
"Yeah, this isn't about accepting, this about fighting. I bet a lot of the folks around here? They don't know crap about what's really out there. Been dealing with it all my life. Only way to control it is to fight back."
no subject
The best we can do is to prepare those who cannot participate in the exorcism to defend themselves.
It is not ideal, but we have little choice.
no subject