trans_9 | Beyond the Walls of Sleep

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Beyond the Walls of Sleep

Slowly but surely, the nightmares have been chipping away at the mental defenses of the crew.

Even those who attempt to stay awake to avoid the nightmares find themselves too on-edge to completely concentrate their defenses.

And the Nightmare King has not been idle during all this, no. He has been slowly feeding off the crew, gathering his strength so that he may yet break free from his prison.

And he now uses that new found power, reaching out to affect the minds of the crew even in the waking world. Even those avoiding sleep will find themselves drifting in and out of their nightmares, bringing everyone a taste of despair.

After all, no one can escape the grasp of the King of Nightmares.

No one.

[ooc: OH NOEZ. As you can guess, the Nightmare King is getting stronger. As such, the crew will start experiencing waking dreams. These are much more subtle than the normal nightmares, however, and are more so depressing and surreal than actually brain-breaking. Mostly they would be miserable versions of the character's normal life, or perhaps even their life on the ship.]

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Komali's life had never been particularly exciting, but since coming to Stacy's care, it had become so gray. Samus was gone, and the ship closed around him like a fist of damp, airless suffocation. He hated it here. Hated....hated the stillness. Komali couldn't sleep at night without the constant wave-sounds, the song of the wind through the rocks, or the call of birds.

Even then, the nightmares...

And so the bird-child wandered the halls with nothing to do but guard his treasure, head bowed and shoulders hunched. He'd never, ever learn to fly, not like this. Worthless waste of feathers, hardly a Rito at all. Hardly anything but dead weight.

Why was she on this ship? Why was she chosen? This wasn't how life was supposed to be, was it? She didn't have anything useful before, and she didn't have anything useful now!

She wasn't like those magical girls who helped protect her best friend's grandmother awhile back. THEY should have been here, not her.

"...what can I do to help here...?" Irma muttered, wandering the ship aimlessly.

His dream tonight is strange. And he can't even tell it's a dream. He's huddled under an overpass somewhere, tattered jacket wrapped tightly around him. The sound of traffic rolling by overhead fills his ears as she shivers. Its not just from the cold. He's alone and he seems stretched out and tired. Eyes gaunt, cheeks hollowed, he slowly rolls his sleeve up - the skin is pocked by scars and tracks. As he wraps a piece rubber tubing tightly around his forearm and pulls it taught with his teeth, he reflects on how he ended up like this.

What a miserable way to live.

Cassie did not love him. She probably never had. He was just a living -- ha! "living" -- echo of Nate to her. A consolation prize.

He should never have even tried.

They couldn't take her. They were too much of a security risk for her to be with them. Even after Nanoha saved her from Jail's clutches, they couldn't be together. Vivio wasn't a Takamachi. She wasn't even ''a real girl''. Nanoha only saved her because she was told to.

Nanoha and Fate weren't her parents, never were, never will be. She was just a plain old child, trying to make it through life after what she was through.

And, in the waking world, as Vivio shivers and shakes in fear, her Device, Sacred Heart, watches on in worry and fear.

There's a hole in the roof, where the rain comes in. Jamie's tried to patch it, but it never seems to stick. He's not very good at repairs - his hand lacks the dexterity it had when he was younger, due to the accident.

He survived Culloden. Lived through the aftermath, but for what? He has no wife, no children. He can barely support himself, let alone anyone else. It's only through the kindness of what's left of his family he has a roof over his head. It's pity, more than anything else.

He hasn't touched the bagpipes in years. He can't play them anymore. He just lives his life, day by day, and keeps trying to patch the roof.

Link never wakes up. Ganondorf is never stopped. And Zelda remains in someone else's skin, watching her people suffer and die through someone else's eyes, helpless, unable to comfort them, a child who's never had to experience the darkness - just condemn her people to it.

Useless.

Sheik remains as a ghost, drifting through Kakariko and the halls of the meatship alike, unnoticed and overlooked. A half-forgotten memory, barely even real - no one even knows his name, lost to the shadows. Invisible until someone sees red eyes - and then, there's no help to be found anywhere.

Useless.

They drift. And they watch. And slowly, the world crumbles around them - and not once does someone offer them a friendly hand to pull them out of the shadows.

She just kept going.

Yuri, having never come to Stacy, finished her year in the Alien Party. Upon entering middle school, her experience with aliens got her noticed by the administration, who immediately placed her in that school's alien party.

The challenges kept slowly getting harder, the aliens more vicious. Not enough to kill her. No, an experienced alien fighter was much too valuable to harm. But enough that her life resolved before she knew it into a routine. Fighting, catching by day, facing down monsters that gave her a dull, constant, throbbing ache of terror. Bruised, scared, hot, freezing, clothes torn, hair limp and thin, skin scraped and dry. When she got home, to the new, closer apartment she shared with the other girls in the party (ones she didn't know and didn't know her, for Kumi had broken down and Kasumi had transferred away to be with her precious big brother) she would collapse onto her futon and catch as much sleep as possible.

Eventually borg fused with her. Once this would have terrified her, but now it was yet another indignity she accepted with something that was so grey and lifeless it went beyond silent resignation. She was moving like a car on autopilot.

Always going foward on a way lubricated with green blood. She walked and her borg speared things which chittered with three mouths, clacked together mandibles and claws, extended appendages that had no names in the tongues of humans. Just keep walking. There was no place to go. There was no escape, because where would she escape to? That implied there was someone to help her. That there was a Yuri Otani left to save. Nothing but a husk, a hollow thing made out of coiled tentacles under her skin.

He never went beyond Toulon. Day after day, night after night, there was nothing but the guarding of the prisoners. He heard little of the world outside; he was never promoted. He walked the same path, back and forth, year after year. In his mind, his most vibrant years had passed. The war had ended. All news was now brought with each new or returning prisoner.

Still, in the back of his mind, something murmured Valjean.

On a team of reckless, ego-maniacal fascists, married to a murdering psychopath who'd rather kill in the Middle East than spend time with him, with a sociopathic daughter who'd rather age herself eight years than be raised alone by him, hated and feared by the people they want to protect.

The finer world they'd wanted to build is barely any finer than it was when they started, ten years ago.

And the Sun King, brightest of them all, floats alone in the darkness.

Rein pounded on the invisible wall, her voice never reaching the ones she loved. Was this it? Was this how it was like to be ignored?

Soundless words tumbled from the teary girl as she slammed her hands against the ever-present barrier as Hayate chatted with Signum and Vita. Even Signum's device Agito was there, and Shamal was there... but no one paid attention to Rein.

There wasn't anything she could do. No one would notice her. No one. She was invisible...

In her depression, Rein tried to return to the compressed form of the book and found she couldn't. A pitched wail of agony erupted from Rein's throat, and yet no one could hear it. She was effectively muted from the world.

Rein laid down on the desk and cried.

Ben was purposeless.

Without the Omnitrix, he was nothing. He slogged from day to day, watching as his cousin Gwen wore it, being the big damn hero. There was no Ben 10, there was Gwen 10 and how he loathed being the one without the capacity to wield it.

And even worse, five years later she put it back on again. Ben was sinking into a depressive cycle, trying his best to fight aliens but inevitably getting in the way. It seemed hopeless for Ben, and he hid his anger and frustration well.

If I never knew you...

Those were words that Matt had feared for all of his life, as he staggered day to day, trying to find the courage to speak to Will. The perky girl that made him smile. But he couldn't. He was an outcast, a loner in a world that even his music didn't reach anyone.

There was no such thing as happily ever after. Not tonight.

There was no justice but what the strong write.

Kamen Rider V3 wanders the world, killing monster after monster, leaving nothing but destruction and bodies in his wake. The people are used to the fear of living under the Great Leader's boot, they're used to the horrors leading them.

A Kamen Rider is a legend. A thing of nightmares. Monsters know that to face one means death. Humans know that to meet one is to be left unprotected for anything that might come after it.

And so justice is feared by all, but Kazami Shiro keeps fighting. Because that's all he can do in a world where the strong write the way of things.

(http://s79.photobucket.com/albums/j138/SoaringHeadache/Cape%20and%20Cowl/Shadow%20The%20Hedgehog/?action=view&current=thShadow061.png)

Ultimate Lifeform. What a joke. He did his job. He helped save Maria's life.

And that was it. Professor Gerald was herald a hero and Maria would go on to live a happy life. Gerald's grandson Ivo would go evil and the hedgehog Sonic would go on to stop him. And when the Black Arms arrived? It was Sonic who stopped him, not Shadow.

He was the Ultimate Lifeform. But, what use is an Ultimate Lifeform when you have no purpose?

So this is his life now. A castle all his, with no one to protect. A long-sought peace between gargoyle and human that only he is awake to enjoy.

What he evaded once already, fate has thrust upon him again, and now his life is a nightmare, made tolerable only because he knows he is not the only one suffering this loneliness.

He finds himself longing for the Earth he remembers, imperfections and all. His clan was always in danger, but at least they lived. He could see them, speak to them, rescue them if they were in trouble. Not like here, where the unknowing is almost worse than that he has nothing. No family. No love. Just a living nightmare that he avoided once.

Could avoid again.

There are magicians on the ship. One of them could cast a spell. He could sleep again, as stone, free of this lonely misery. It is not his responsibility to protect this crew. If he cannot find his clan, perhaps they are not here to find at all. Were he stone, none of this would matter. Were he stone, this nightmare that is his life could not touch him.

In the early hours of the night, in the late hours before morning, just after and just before sleep, he has more and more trouble thinking of reasons why he should not do this.

"Hello, this is IT. ... sir, have you tried turning it off and on again? ... sir, it's the button on the side. It should be glowing. ... no, sir, I cannot transfer you to my supervisor. ... I'm sorry, sir, but you cannot demand to speak to my supervisor, because I am the IT supervisor. ... yes, sir, as a matter of fact I am a woman. ... I assure you, sir, I am more than qualified to hold this position. ... sir, if we could please get back to the problem at hand-- no, sir, the problem at hand is not whether or not I am qualified to hold this job. If you believe that this is some sort of issue, I would recommend you take it up with Human Resources. ... sir, in order to register a formal complaint with Human Resources you have to fill out a form. Which is done via email. Feel free to do so after I've fixed your computer. Now, sir, is your computer turning on after you've pressed the button?"

Wyn's never been entirely sure what the company she works for actually does, but she does know that Human Resources seems to make a point of hiring the least tech-savvy people possible. It's becoming harder and harder for her to plaster a fake smile to her face and cheerfully answer inane questions about how to use Microsoft Office for nine hours a day, six days a week. Her cubicle has started to feel more and more oppressive, like a cage with gray plywood walls, and she's begun withdrawing from even the most basic conversations with her coworkers because she's positive it will turn into someone asking her to fix their computer. She's not much better outside of work, sitting alone in her apartment obsessively drawing plans and fragments of gadgetry on any spare surface. She's disconnected her landline and stopped answering her cell, and her need for sleep and food is practically ignored. The few friends she has left are worried, but she doesn't care. As long as she can just finish this design...

Edited 2010-02-06 19:11 (UTC)

Fate was happy. Really, she was.

After all, aren't you supposed to be happy when your best friend is getting married? They had been together for so long after all... since high school. It's about time, really.

When Nanoha had shown her the ring, it was during one of their irregular calls, during a break in Fate's current mission. She rarely saw her best friend face-to-face anymore, being too busy with her job as an Enforcer. She smiled and congratulated her friend, offering her best wishes... but that dull ache in her chest that always bothered her when she spoke to Nanoha flared up into an almost unbearable pain, as if a white-hot knife was stabbing her over and over.

Nanoha went on to tell her what finally spurred her new fiancee to propose. They had been out on a standard mission a couple of weeks ago, out to collect a Lost Logia... nothing they haven't done before. So imagine their surprise when they found an unconscious little girl attached to said Lost Logia. The girl was taken into custody of the TSAB, and she bonded with the two who rescued her instantly, which eventually led them to declare themselves her legal guardians. She called them "mama" and "papa" now.

Her best friend had a family now.

... Fate didn't mean for them to drift apart... really. Back before they were together, she had been so close to admitting her feelings so many times. But she was afraid. Afraid she would be shot down, afraid that her confession would somehow ruin her friendship... so she stopped herself. Besides, there was always tomorrow, right?

When Fate finally managed to gather her courage, she called Nanoha out to the bridge... that bridge where they first became friends... you had to do this kind of thing somewhere special, right? So they chatted for a bit. About school, about their friends...

... And that's when Nanoha told her. About her and him. About how he asked her out only three days ago. About how she tearfully said yes.

Fate smiled and congratulated her. That's what best friends are supposed to do in this situation, right? It didn't matter if it felt like her heart was being shredded into tiny bits. Nanoha was happy, and that was all that mattered. Her happiness mattered more than Fate's own happiness, so Fate would continue to smile and support her friend.

The years went on, the distance grew... did Nanoha even notice how far apart they've grown? Or was she too busy with her new family to notice?

But she was happy. So Fate would smile and support her any way she could, ignoring the loneliness threatening to overwhelm her.

She was happy. Really, she was.

Edited 2010-02-06 19:57 (UTC)

[THIS COMMENT DOESNT EXIST BUT OW MY HEART]

Edited 2010-02-06 20:29 (UTC)

The team was scattered, distant. Little point to go out on patrols now. They were superfluous. Unwanted.

She was superfluous, trying to focus on her music and the charities while she returned home to an empty house filled with lovely things, but so cold. A museum, not a home. Filled with statues and pictures of people who are far away or gone.

She sighed, and tried to filled the silence with her cello. Even though the bow pulling across the strings only echoed lonely cries.

Sunnydale was long since dust, but now the whole world's gone away. Did it matter how many Slayers might have been spared? Why was he? He didn't have powers, or magic. Hell, he barely had five senses anymore. Much as he wished for the Daredevil deal after he lost his eye.

'Are you a soldier?'
'I'm a comfortador.'
'You're neither. You're a whipping boy. Raised by mongrels and set on a sacrificial stone.'

Snyder was snake food, and even the remains of that would be space dust scattered across the cosmos now. So why was his voice still loud and clear?

Stop the Ohm? How could he? People barely trusted him still, some still hated him. And those who get close to him? Tend to end up evil or gone. Often dead.

Why did he get survive anyway?

It would be so easy to just lay down and die.

And it was tempting, the thought of it, of the slow relax and tug, that last gasp of surface-tension before the bursting flow, the way his waters would soak into the ground and fade. The death of a river-spirit; only gods can choose the time of their own death so completely as this.

He remembered a time of rushing and freedom. He was useful, then. But that place was gone, filled in and paved over, raped until it bled out and died by the humans who now called what had been his banks home. He remembered the way the fog would rise...

Why couldn't he die?

Why couldn't he find home? What was home anymore? Haku was forgetting, was spending more and more time in human guise. What was the feel of rubbing your rapids over the rocks, what was the sound of the moon on a windless night? Where would the deer drink? He used to know these things with the same surety that he knew, without looking, where his ears were. Now they were just a vestigial pain, the ghost of feeling in a limb violently amputated. Where was Chihiro, who'd given him hope?

It was harder every day, to remember not to die.

"You can help keep people from losing themselves," Roxie murmurs as she passes by, slipping through the half-dream like a passing ship in the night. "That's what we really need right now."

In her wake pieces of the waking nightmare crystallize and shatter, leaving Irma normal again, at least for the moment.

"Huh? What?" Irma stammered, coming to a stop. "What are you talking abou--" She stopped and began thinking. Something just wasn't right. Wasn't she complaining about how she wasn't helpful and...

"What the heck just happened?! Hey, come back here! Something happened here, didn't it?!"

"There are always other ways," Roxie says, and her presence forces the edge of the waking nightmare to peel back. "...and you'll always have a friend," she adds, tone beleaguered and annoyed by having to actually say it.

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Beyond the Walls of Sleep

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holy jesus this is long I'm so sorry

Re: holy jesus this is long I'm so sorry

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