trans_9 | I can feel the madness slowly creeping in...

Entry tags:

I can feel the madness slowly creeping in...

It is that time again, meatship.

Once again, the King of Nightmares has deigned to spread his touch to all of your dreams.

This time, however, he has decided to give them a much more personal touch, sending his very own children to visit each and every one of you, slowly sowing the seeds of madness within all of you.

Such a kind and loving king he is, isn't he?

[ooc: Alright folks, Nightmare King is ramping things up a bit. These nightmares are a good bit more dangerous now, and he's sending in his minions to make things a little more real. The nightmares will be of a much more serious nature this time, designed to start driving the crew slowly insane. Characters are more likely to run into nightmare minions in the guise of someone or something that will tug at the edges of their sanity. Also, this time, the characters can have joint dreams, as these nightmares are of a more mystical nature this time. Once again, tagging in isn't mandatory, but if you want to, go crazy (literally)!]

[Additional Note: Any injuries won't be carrying over to real life at this point in the plot but don't worry, we'll get there eventually!]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

He's home again. He knows that much. He's standing in front of a familiar apartment complex, cars whizzing back and forth in the street behind him, people moving to and fro and the sidewalk. There's even that wacked out hobo who lives on the corner. He can't believe it for a moment - this is supposed to be gone and destroyed, isn't he? He takes a step forward and then another. Then he's running, feet pounding over pavement and cracked sidewalk as he darts into the building and up the stairs. He feels a tightness in his chest - his mother, he can see his mother again.

As he rounds the corner into his hallway a familiar smell wafts over to him - his mother's cooking. He can't stop the grin on his face anymore then he can slow down and he slams the door open to his apartment, "Mama!"

The smile and exclamation die on his lips as he steps inside. Everything's work in here. The place is torn apart. There are clawmarks and blood on the walls. He ducks into the kitchen, heart in his throat. He does not want to see. He does not want to hear.

The pack of Black Spirals is crammed into the kitchen. They shouldn't fit. Four Crinos would break it apart. Impossibly, they do. One of them turns to him, muzzle bloody, and holds out a human head. It's his mother. The Black Spiral speaks with his mother's voice as he tries to scream, tries to run again, "We made you dinner."

This time, he can't stop himself from stepping forward (he's a wolf, when did that happen) and feeding.

The city had started out familiar - Manhattan, 42nd and Lexington, just outside of Grand Central. All her dreams seemed to start there now. The Nightmare King had certainly pegged the center of her discomfort.

But she wasn't going to wait around and see what he had in store for her this time. Now that she knew what was happening it was easier to avoid being drawn in.

A brief moment of thought, and Rhiow walked in the large form she took in Old Downside, the sleek black panther with the enlarged canines, reminiscent of her ancient ancestors. She wound her way through streets that began to bleed into unfamiliar skyscrapers. The people that passed her on the street ignored her, even though she was hardly a normal sight in an urban area. Rhiow became certain that this was no longer her dream.

She scented blood.

Rhiow stretched her legs into a run, her chest heaving, up the stairs of a nearby apartment building, following the scent of blood through the halls and up the stairs until she found a door standing wide open. A growl building low in her chest, she stepped in, to the kitchen.

Wolves. Well - one wolf. Several who were emphatically not wolves. They may have looked like it vaguely, but Rhiow trusted her nose, and all she smelled was rot and corruption. One by one, heads came up and growled at her.

She filled her lungs and let out a savage roar in response.

He can't deal with this. They're making him eat his own mother's flesh and the worst part is he can't seem to stop. The Black Spiral's are all around him now, drawing closer, tighter, giving him encouraging nudges. There are whispers in the air that nibble at the edges of his perception.

One of us, brother.

He wants to scream so badly. He wants to throw down the limb that's in mouth the bone cracking under his jaws. He can't stop, he can't do anything but begin to follow the Spirals down into madness and terror. His mind is gibbering at him, but his body won't respond. There's a sudden change in the atmosphere. There's tension from the Spirals and he swings his blood-stained muzzle around to see... a giant cat. A panther?

His eyes stared as it let out a challenging roar in reply to the growls. There's a roar and a snap from the nearest Spiral and it darts across the impossibly small space to try and get at it. And for just a moment, he has control again. He spits out the human flesh in his mouth, hacking and choking as he sobs internally. This isn't real, but he won't wake up, can't wake up.

He channels it, tries to go for anger and he rather shakily leaps on one of the other Spirals with a defiant snarl. A moment later the kitchen is a whirl of fur, blood, teeth and claws.

Rhiow had fallen back into a crouch as the threats escalated to movement, so when the wolf-thing charged, Rhiow was ready. She leapt, a snarl escaping her before she locked her jaws around the grimy, oily fur at the throat of it, her hindpaws kicking and scoring deep, bloody furrows at its gut. The growl under her jaws was choked, then a whine, then nothing at all.

Another tried to leap on her from behind and she whirled, disengaging from the horrible twisted stink of the first thing, swiping with all claws out across the muzzle of the second. It howled, the sounds sending horrible shivery chills up Rhiow's spine - and it echoed farther than it should have. Rhiow hissed, pressing her advantage and cornering it in the impossibly small kitchen. It fell into a crouch like a normal, four-legged wolf would, and Rhiow struck, throwing herself on its back and sinking her jaws into the base of its spine. She gave a mighty wrench and felt it snap.

She looked across the kitchen, her yellow-gold eyes finding the only wolf there that truly was one. "Are you the dreamer here, cousin?"

Even while the giant cat was dealing with the Spirals on its side of the kitchen, Plays' fight had ended in a swirl of snapping jaws and blood. The smell of death, corruption and blood filled his nostrils and he sneezed, once, looking at the corpses. He shuddered for a moment, thinking about just how close he'd come to listening to those things, even if it was just a dream.

He was brought out of his self-reflection and horror by a voice. He looked up, eying the giant cat warily for a moment before he replied (strangely enough, he could talk in something other then wolf, but that was a dream for you), "...this... yeah. That's me. Hell of a dream..."

Rhiow's long tail swished slowly, and her nose wrinkled at the smell. "The way these nightmares function, it's probably best if we get away from anything that seems familiar to you. Staying here is not a good idea." She looked down at the bloody, twisted mess that used to be human on the floor and looked away quickly. "The King... preys on your insecurities and your fears. Follow me." She left the apartment on silent feet, and then promptly sat down outside the door to engage in a thorough and vigorous wash. She had to get that awful stink out of her fur or she would feel like the reek followed her wherever she went.

"Sorry," she said as she finished scrubbing her face with her paws. "Their blood smells like acid rain and tar. It's revolting. What were they?"

Plays sneezes again, trying to clear the smell out of his nose. Every damn time he fought Spirals his mouth ended up tasting like oil and chemicals. He gave the body of his mother - it wasn't really her, he told himself - one last look and then trotted after the big cat, tail tucked slightly. As far as wolves go, Plays wasn't impressive. He looked mottled, mixed. A mutt if there ever was one. He curled up, watching the cat clean herself for a few moments.

"Yeah, I know," he responded. Water would be great right about now.

"They're Black Spiral Dancers. They're... like me. Except corrupted by the Wyrm. Twisted and insane and they were trying..." The words seized in his throat for a moment, "...they were trying to make me one of them. Make me Dance the Spiral."

That was a wonderfully pleasant thought.

Rhiow's ears flicked back and forth quickly at that. "Wonderful," she murmured, unconsciously echoing Plays' thoughts. "Well, now we know what one of your deep-rooted fears is. Hunt's Luck, cousin. I'm Rhiow, and I seem to have stumbled into your nightmare."

Stumbled in or deliberately crossed was up for debate. Maybe the fact that their dreamscapes were so similar was an explanation for why she was able to enter his. "May I ask what city this is?"

Plays rested his head on his paws, ears flicking back and forth. If anything tried to sneak up on him, he wanted to hear it (or smell it) first. He gave the best wolfish form of a shrug and shuddered, "It's a fate worse then death. At least when you die, your spirit goes to Gaia. If they turn you, you're done. You're insane, crazy, you know? And you're fighting against everything you stood for..."

With one more shudder he settled down, "Plays-in-Traffic, Philodox of the Bone Gnawer Tribe. And this is Los Angeles. Thanks for the help."

Rhiow thought of Haath of the Sixth Claw, the wizard who had forsaken the Oath and given his power to the Lone One, who had died a hundred deaths in rapid succession when his master found no more use for him. Would even Haath exist in the Hearth of all things?

"Los Angeles," Rhiow repeated quietly. On the other end of the US from Manhattan, but still similar enough in attitude that it could easily blend with her city. They were both cities of dreams and nightmares.

She stood up and began to walk toward the exit of the apartment building. "The entity who is responsible for these nightmares - aptly named Nightmare King - will try to get at you where you're most vulnerable. Places with strong emotional connections are the easiest places to strike you. Places where you feel safe, or places where you have bad memories. It would be best to get to a neutral place. Ever been to Manhattan?"

Plays stood and shook himself off. A moment later he trotted after Rhiow, tail a bit higher then it had been. He was already calming down and getting control back. He could deal with this. He sniffed at the ground as he fell in alongside her, "Nightmare King. Well, that's original. Wonder how he come up with that."

Sarcasm translated surprisingly well into wolf sometimes, "Anyway... Nah. Never been to Manhattan. Is that where you're from?"

Rhiow led him back the way she had come, through winding streets beside towering skyscrapers, weaving in and out of pedestrians as if they weren't even there. She did it all with the incredible ease that said she'd been part of city life as long as she had lived.

She confirmed that a second later. "Yes, and it seems to be where my dreamscape centers every time I fall asleep. The King knows I have insecurities and fears there. I don't let him exploit them. That makes him... frustrated." She looks back over her shoulder at Plays-In-Traffic. "We've been trying to warn the crew about this. Few of them have been listening."

Plays gazed up at the skyline as they trot along. It's weird, not having anyone react to their presence. Still, he doesn't complain about it. Rhiow got bob of the wolf's head, "Yeah... they should. Dreams and spirits have a lotta power back on my world. Not surprising that it carries over... Hold on."

He paused in his steps and stretched, body shifting and changing. His fur vanished, his tail shrunk and in a moment, a young human man was crouched on the sidewalk. Clothed, surprisingly enough. He sighed softly, "...that's better."

Rhiow flicked one ear back and forth, tilting her head to the side. "Now there's a thing I've never seen before," she said. "Were you born ehhif and turn into a wolf or were you born wolf and were changed into a human?" She continues walking as they speak, spotting the jarring change from LA to NYC suddenly.

"Ah," she said, pausing again for a moment. "We're in my dreamscape now. There's no telling what the King will throw at us here." On her right is Penn Station, and as they walk a few more blocks the Empire State Building rises high out of the concrete.

"Born and raised human," Plays replied, shaking himself out and jogging to catch up, "A lot of my people are. Others are born wolf, though. It varies. We all have the power to change shape though. Human to wolf, wolf to human... either to a ten-foot tall furry death machine with chainsaws for hands."

He flashed an amused grin, then glanced up at the suddenly unfamiliar sky-line, "...whoa. I always wanted t'visit New York, but this is sorta weird."

Rhiow put her whiskers forward in amusement at 'furry death machine,' thinking that it was similar to the way Urruah had described their Downside forms when he first saw them.

"It's a little disconcerting at first, how things bleed into each other," Rhiow said. "We should avoid Grand Central Station. I used to work there - no telling what the King would dredge up for me now." She didn't ask whether Plays was ready to wake up... if he was, he would.

She turned down 36th and made her way over to 5th avenue, turning north. "We'll go to Central park."

"Central park? Bitchin'," he laughed, "Man, never thought a cat would show me around New York. Kate would love this. Probably."

Well, except for the whole nightmare king thing. Speaking of which, he wondered if she was alright and if she was dreaming. Still, this dream was particularly lucid and he wasn't quite ready to wake up.

"Your hometown, your rules, I guess. Lead th' way."

Rhiow's whiskers twitched. "You're not getting the experience unless you're bumping into people and taxis are trying to run you over every several minutes."

She paused, wondering if she could do it the same way she had, and then suddenly she was no longer the large panther but a common housecat - not in a slow shift like a Garou, but like a blink of an eye. The field that seemed to make the bystanders ignore them vanished just as suddenly and now she was shimmying through pushing crowds of New Yorkers as they trotted uptown.

She shadows on the street got longer. Rhiow felt a chill down her back and wasn't sure why - the skyscrapers above her seemed to lean in as the bright blue color of the sky began to leech out. But Rhiow wasn't looking up.

Tony blinked. One moment there had been a primordial killer cat and the next an ordinary black housecat. He shook his head as a smile spread across it, "Heh. Guess I ain't the only shifter in town anymore. Although I think your universe and stuff is really different from mine, at least when it comes to some of that..."

There was a pause and he frowned, hunching his shoulders as a chill ran through him. He glanced around, then up at the giant buildings. Were they leaning in? Was the sky starting to fade?

"Fuck, this is weird."

Rhiow hesitated at the crosswalk across the street from Central Park. It didn't... feel right. She had never made a habit of coming this far uptown, and she enjoyed the park as well as the next person but it didn't have any significance to her. There was no reason for her to-

A shape across the street, a black-and-white kitten shape, caught her attention. "Arhu?" she whispered quietly, trying to see through the rushing traffic. The kitten rose to his feet and turned away like he had heard her.

Her tail switched nervously and she glanced over her shoulder at Plays. "None of this is right," she said. "He shouldn't be here." She didn't elaborate on who shouldn't be here.

He glanced down at Rhiow, then over at the other cat. Why was she freaking out about that...? Tony crouched next to her, senses alert for any sign of danger, "...Arhu? Who's Arhu? Talk t'me here."

He glanced around. Fortunately, no one in the dream seemed to think he was crazy for talking to a cat.

"Arhu was on my team," she said absently, and stepped out into the street as if she was in a daze, her eyes fixed on Arhu.

Distracted as she was, she hadn't noticed the taxi bearing down on her as if the words she had said earlier had summoned one. The driver's horn blared, Rhiow froze in her tracks, and the cab swerved -

- into the oncoming lanes, where Rhiow watched as a larger truck caught it side-on at full speed, an impact that she could feel across the street and in her bones.

"Oh great Queen Iau," she whispered. "Not this. Not now."

"Your team? I didn't know cats had packs," It was a rather poor joke, but he made it anyway. He glanced over at the other cat curiously for a moment. He almost missed Rhiow step out into the street and he yelled in alarm as she was almost struck. He stooped down and snatched her back as the pile-up started, "...what the hell do you mean? Not now?"

If he minded kitty claws in his shirt, picking up a frightened cat was a bad way to display it. Rhiow clung like she was hanging on for dear life. "Ohhh, I know what he's trying to do. Oh my poor Hhuha, it was my fault, my fault..."

Behind her, emergency vehicles were screaming down the street - much faster than they should have been arriving, given both the traffic and the size of the city. As the firefighters began to pry the back of the taxi open, it was clear that whoever had been inside it - a woman it looked like - had not survived the crash. And it was not a pretty sight.

Rhiow turned to look, just once, just because she couldn't not, and then her claws flexed in Plays' shirt and she hid her face with a soft wail.

Plays didn't know much about Rhiow's world, but he knew a bad car crash when he saw one. He gingerly extracted the cat from his shirt and cradled her against his chest. He watched as they pulled the body from the mangled taxi, a frown creasing his features. One of his hands absent-mindedly pet at Rhiow's head (that's what you did to cats, after all).

"...it's OK, Rhiow. This is just a dream. This isn't real. Remember that. Fight him... Come on."

He swallowed, "...talk to me about it. Let it out. I'm here."

I can feel the madness slowly creeping in...

I think I have a theme going.

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

Apologies for the lateness.

No worries :)

no subject

no subject

no subject

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)

(no subject)