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 As the bus shudders to a stop, I peer out of the tinted windows at our destination. My bleary eyes are met by a huge, sprawling mass of buildings surrounded by forest, like some kind of hidden ‘compound’ you would see in a Bond movie or whatever. Personally, I was a bit fascinated by all the green, having never set foot out of the dense, metropolitan jungle of NYC. Sure, we have our neatly cultivated parks, but this area of the country seemed like it was almost entirely made up of an overwhelming sea of leaves. At least the scenery had helped to pass the time while filling out countless retarded forms. I mean really, what the hell? Do we have to fill out a questionnaire every time we piss, too? Oneiros has apparently isolated themselves from civilization here, carving out a little secret patch well away from the prying eyes of suburbia. Despite having a certain natural aesthetic, the creepy ambience does little to ease my already frayed nerves. I’ve been clean for weeks, having flown directly from rehab to the airport where they picked us up; but I still get shivers, shakes and sweats occasionally. I notice my hand is trembling on my guitar case, and I make a serious effort to pull myself together. After all, Heart is here with me; and she’s probably just as jittery as I am. I have to be cool for her. Gently nudging her with my elbow, I whisper into her ear, “Rise and shine. Welcome to Wonkaland.” Actually a better comparison would be Dr. Moreau’s island, perhaps. God. What have I got us into? Heart raises her head sleepily from my shoulder, pushing her bright orange bangs back behind her ear. “Wh-gently caress..? Oh. We’re here? Oh poo poo.” She straightens herself up and quickly pulls a compact from her purse, checking her reflection in an adorable fashion. I slide my arm casually around her waist and look around at the other passengers. There are a few older folks, but mostly everyone is young, like us: a dweeby-looking guy; a Muslim person (hard to get a good look with the head covering); a twitchy, mousy girl who looked like she was muttering something to herself; a brooding red-head, and… “Holy poo poo, Heart! Don’t look. Don’t. Look… but I think that’s loving Izzie Wilson back there!” Of course she snaps her head around to gawk. I pinch her arm, “Don’t stare! drat… that guy was on the Olympic team a few years ago, wasn’t he?” My girlywhirl covers her gaping mouth and nods, eyes wide with awe. “Ohmahgawd. He’s, like, famous! Why is he here?” Before I can respond with any bewildered speculation, a robotic voice spits out abruptly from a speaker at the front of the bus: “WELCOME LADIES AND GENTLEMEN. YOU HAVE ARRIVED AT THE HEADQUARTERS OF ONEIROS MEDICAL AND SCIENTIFIC RESEARCH FACILITIES. PLEASE EXIT THE VEHICLE IN AN ORDERLY FASHION AND WAIT FOR OUR STAFF TO ESCORT YOU. WELCOME LADIES AND-“ “OKAY WE GET IT. gently caress.” My head feels like it’s starting to rip apart, and my medication is packed away in my bags, which are stuffed in the luggage compartment under the bus. I get to my feet and bark at the driver, “Can you shut that piece of poo poo, off? Or is audio rape part of the therapy here?” The man behind the wheel flips a switch and the Voice of God stops its assault on my eardrums. “Sorry, darlin’. It’s automatic. You all are good to get out here.” “Thanks, I think we figured that out.” I hate it when guys call me “darling”. Picking up my guitar case, I let Heart get out first, then follow her onto the blacktop. As everyone files out of the stuffy bus, I purvey the scene. Tall, shiny buildings with tall, shiny windows, and probably tall, shiny people happily working their lives away within. No sooner did the image come to mind than a six foot lady in a flowing lab coat comes striding out through the massive, glistening doors of the central structure before us, beaming brightly. She introduces herself as “Sarah”, and starts reading off our names like we’re products in a meat market. “Andrea Bailey?” With a roll of my eyes I step forward to get my little badge of honor. Obviously they didn’t read the part of my application where I mentioned preferring ‘Nil’ to my given name. Wonder what else they missed? As I take the card I offer the lady a dry smile, “Thanks, but I’ll be keeping my guitar with me for now; ‘till I get my room. Too many fumbling fuckwits have dropped my baby already. Less you wanna reimburse me with an Alexi-600 ESP, of course.” pre:WAKING SELF
Name: “Drew”
Age: ???
Appearance:
male, seemingly in his mid-twenties
6’1” / 175 lbs / one eye is red, the other is blue / dark hair
[“Drew” is a manifestation of Andrea’s innermost desires.
His blue eye can see true beauty and goodness,
while the red eye can see true evil and horror.
Occasionally one of the eyes will go blind, however, causing chaos and confusion;
which not only effects Drew, but also possibly the dreamscape as well.
With a greatly enhanced perspective, reading people intentions
comes quite easily to him, as well as a supernatural ability to manipulate others.]
Attributes
Physical: 1d6+2
Mental: 2d6
Social: 3d6
Qualities
Mental
Conviction: 0
Intellect: 0
Wits: +2
Physical
Dexterity: 0
Fortitude: 0
Strength: 0
Social
Charisma: +1
Dignity: 0
Manipulation: +3
Derived Values
Health: 5
Sanity: 6
Grace: 9
Dreamstuff: 0
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Jul 18, 2013 18:15
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Name: Andrea “Nil” Bailey
Age: 19
Appearance:
female
5’6” / 115 lbs / turquoise eyes (contacts, normal = blue)
short blonde hair with pink highlights
Attributes
Physical: 2d6+1
Mental: 2d6
Social: 2d6+1
Qualities
Mental
Conviction: 0
Intellect: 0
Wits: +1
Physical
Dexterity: +1
Fortitude: 0
Strength: 0
Social
Charisma: +2
Dignity: 0
Manipulation: +2
Derived Values
Health: 7
Sanity: 6
Grace: 7
Skills
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| # ¿ Apr 20, 2024 03:57 |
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Most of the other 'patients' in our little group were interesting in their own way. Iris in particular seems a bit... different. Could she be...? Don't even think about it, idiot. Angel said asking that type of poo poo is rude as hell. I decide to keep my mouth shut and move on to the next sap. 'James Moon' sounds like the name of an early 60's singer/songwriter. Wonder if he plays? He could almost double for that Zac Brown douche. Hah! Then there was Axel. Complete turd, but intriguing enough due to the fact that he'll almost certainly be the first person I scrap with. I try to ignore him when he starts making ape-face at Heart and I during LeJeune's spiel. I briefly make a fist, cracking my knuckles before responding to the Doc's implication. “Whatever. She snores, anyways.” Heart socks me on the shoulder for that and gets all huffy as we move along through the tour. Apparently there are even more people here, aside from our little group. I perk up a bit at the thought of potentially playing basketball with a pro like Izzie. No internet, though?! gently caress. I guess they were serious. There's a theater and a library and stuff, but I've always been more interested in inter-personal activities. Maybe they had a video game room or something as well? My skills with pew-pewing pixelated people are pretty pathetic; but I spent a considerable amount of my time floating at Fail's house, staring slack-jawed at the TV screen and watching him play. Since I have to stay clean here, I'll probably just work on songs in my spare time. Too bad there's no octagon. As we arrive at our last stop, LeJeune says something that finally pushes my buttons. I snort and shake my head at Heart. Time to set some things straight. “Look, lady.” I make an exasperated face at the doctor, waving my hands over Britney's head. “She's right here! We don't really appreciate the Third Person treatment, okay? You think we're just going to gently caress like rabbits all over your precious equipment or whatever; why don't you just be straight up about it? If this is how things are going to be, then me and Miss Conjugal here are just going to GeeTeeEffOH. Why don't you show us some respect? Or is that not on the schedule?” I turn to Axel and walk over to him, getting right up in that fat, oily face. “And you, Fluffy McDouble-Chin. You're so loving fat I bet you sweat sprinkles. See something you like? Wanna make pigs-in-a-blanket? If I ever notice that fugly disaster you call a grill staring at either me or my girl again, the crack team of scientists here wont even be able extricate your balls from your stomach. Any thoughts rolling around in that lard-soup you call a brain? Fuckin' step up now, pork shoulder. Otherwise? gently caress off.” I look square in his beady little eyes, praying for him to make a move.
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Jul 21, 2013 22:42
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I have to admit, I was a bit surprised by the interruption from James. Maybe I pegged the guy wrong? He seemed really mature for his age. Regardless, he butted in and broke up some much needed entertainment; so I wasn’t exactly thankful. I shrugged and snickered at the fuming Axel, “Whatevz. Offer still stands, mouth-breather.” Izzie piped in at that point, playing the part of Peace Patrol. Now he looks like a dude who would give me a run for my money. Athletes require a different kind of tactic: typically you want to hurt them as bad as possible as quickly as you can, ‘cause if you get into a drawn out, drag out fight, most times you’ll gas and they’ll outlast you. He doesn’t seem like the confrontational type, though; plus, I’d actually prefer a little one-on-one on the b-ball court instead. While “Loco-Lara” had some kind of Rainman moment, the Muslim chick had a giggle at my commentary. She appeared to have a pretty laid-back personality, which seemed to clash with her concealing, religious garb. Weren’t women really oppressed in that male-dominated culture? Then again, I knew next to nothing about Islam; and honestly I could give a poo poo whether or not “Fati” was a walking contradiction. I contradict the gently caress out of myself every day – it’s good therapy. I give Heart a quick peck on the cheek before we file into the next building, giving her my guitar case to hold. “Anyone fucks with you, swing this baby into their junk. It’s reinforced, so unless they’re cupped, they’re going down. See you soon, girly.” She made a somewhat appalled face, but nodded. Upon sitting down in the conference room, I glance briefly at the sodas and chips before deliberately taking a seat next to Maureen. I could tell she was avoiding me, and the cross around her neck gave a good hint as to why. I love the Westboro types, they do a fantastic job of turning rational people away from religion, and they are fun as hell to pick on. I give her a wide smile before the doctor launches into his monologue. After the man finishes, I give him a slow clap. “Bravo. When/where can I get a smoke break? Freaking still getting off the nod, y’know Doc? Got a splitting headache. Probably from looking at Axel too long.” I turn to Maureen and place my hand over hers, “Pray for me, okay?” hctibyllis fucked around with this message at 17:58 on Jul 22, 2013 |
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Jul 22, 2013 17:56
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*THUD* [A sudden savage vibration jars the table. Andrea rocks backwards and clutches her head, then looks up sheepishly.] "Sorry. Uh. Looks like I'm down to twenty five." gently caress! These meds are a real bitch... They told me they would make me drowsy, but I wasn't expecting narcolepsy. I can already feel the knot forming on my head. These drat tables are solid as hell! Definitely not junkie-proof - needs more bean bags. I grab the nearest bottle of water and gulp half of it down, trying to quell the sick, rolling feeling in my stomach as well as give myself a boost to get through this jaw-fest. Just a little dehydrated. That's all. Don't be a pussy. The sickly-looking, kinda pudgy Bernard kid was giving me the stink eye, so I flashed him a fake gang sign, "Sleepy Hoes - two-one-two. Rep up, sexy." I look back at the good doctor, rubbing the cool bottle against my sore noggin. "Let me get this straight:
"So what happens when we become zombies and burn this mofo down? Exactly what kind of security you got here, and what's going to stop me from walking out of this room right now and hitching a ride back to New York?" I wasn't about to bolt just yet, but I wanted to know what I was up against if later I decided to break out with Heart. The more I learned about this little "experiment", the less it sounded like what was in the brochures.
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Jul 23, 2013 05:42
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[Nil pokes listlessly at her hamburger. It was good food, much better than she was used to; but she didn’t feel hungry. The only thing she wants is a cigarette, something to calm the queasy nausea in her stomach. She still wasn’t used to the side effects of the meds they put her on before she left rehab.] Heart is working away at her salad. She seems a bit more relaxed than I am, that’s for sure. I put my hand on her thigh and give a squeeze. “You got any Tums or anything, babe? Cramping like hell. loving meds, it’s like having a perpetual period.” While the rest of the group shares their life stories or whatever, I look around for someone who looks official. “Anyone know where I can go burn one?”
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Jul 25, 2013 20:36
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*THOCK* There hadn’t even been any screams. The only reason Andrea was out of her bed was because she needed to use the bathroom. They shared one with their neighbors next door, and the only way to get to it was to go out into the hallway of their apartment building. The two bedroom flat their family occupied was cramped at best, so Andrea merely had to step out of her room and walk a few feet to reach the kitchen / living room area where the exit was; but this time she didn’t make it. *CRUNCH* Caught in the dim glow of a small lamp across the room was her father. He must’ve come home just recently, because she could smell the saturation of alcohol from where she stood in the threshold. He was hunched over something next to the couch; sweat glistened on his forehead, but his face was a blank, passive mask void of any emotion. She didn’t like that look – she’d seen it before. That day when he came after Christine and her with a hammer instead of a belt. Andrea had managed to push a dresser against the door to their room to keep him away, but he’d already caught her on the thigh with the claw. 16 stitches. *THOCK* *SMACK* This time he didn’t have a hammer, it was a crowbar. Every few seconds he would robotically raise the tool up over his head and bring it down against something she couldn’t see from where she stood. The impact made a sickening sound each time. She didn’t want to breathe, for fear of alerting him to her presence. Her eyes scanned down to the floor in front of her. The kitchen counter was blocking full view of the scene, but she could see a spattering of some dark fluid on the linoleum next to a stray slipper; which she recognized as her mother’s. The crowbar went up again, and this time she noticed a dark mist of similar appearance spray upwards with it, painting her father’s stoic expression. *THOCK* Heartbeats feel like someone is pounding their fist against her chest as she inches ever so slowly towards the cell phone on the counter, never taking her eyes off the man who had brought her into this world. She tried to time her movement with his swings, tried not to think about what came into view as she drew closer; about the oatmeal-like substance on the wall next to him and the tiny white flakes that dribbled down along with the viscous, reddish matter. Her hand grasped the phone… *THOCK* Her mother’s legs were splayed out on either side of his crouching figure. Dark stuff everywhere. He turned his head… Run. Run. Run. Dresser. Urine. Dial. Don’t wake Chris; never tell, never tell, never tell… oh god… someone… help… ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ I take a deep hit and lean against the rail that runs along the patio, my fingers brushing over the old, familiar scar on my thigh through the holes in my skinny jeans. In front of us a lush, green lawn ran at a slight slope down to the line of woods. Perpendicular to its expanse was what looked like the gym building she had pointed out before. Maybe it was an Ultimate Frisbee field? I still couldn’t make out any signs of the other “subjects”. The doctor is waxing on about how she’d been criticized for her evil tobacco habits, but my mind is too busy loving with me to comprehend what she was saying. A boiling acidic flare rises up like a loving hot spring from my stomach and I almost double over, grimacing. You really messed yourself up, you stupid oval office. Long stretch of this bullshit ahead; but then, you deserve it after all. Chris would be horrified with what I’ve become, but I still wish I could see her, though; if for nothing else than to vindicate my self-destruction with her look of disgust. I chuckle out loud despite myself, face twisting into a sneer. poo poo. Don’t even think about crying! Instead of letting some of that sadness escape, I come up with a hasty response. “There’s only two kinds of deaths: those with regrets and those without. Do what you want. Be what you want. gently caress all the rest.” For some reason my thoughts drifted back to that Moon dude. I did vaguely remember Angel bringing him up, so he must write some social critique-type stuff, ‘cause that’s what she was into. Of course I never read him. Last time I touched a book was in the court room to “solemnly swear” to some fake god – a freaky ritual that was. Still, if Angel likes the guy he might be worth getting to know. “Dr. June, right?” I turn up the charm in my smile a bit. “Thanks for the smoke. Tell me, anyone ever completed this testing we’re gonna do? Or are you guys still keeping everyone here?” I glance over my shoulder through the windows of the cafeteria. Heart is busy chatting with the others, looks okay. The cigarette tastes great – like slow, smoky catharsis. The fact that its bad for you is part of what makes it feel so good. I think the good Doc might even agree with me on that one.
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Jul 26, 2013 19:39
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gently caress its too early for this poo poo posted:I squint through blurry eyes at the 'report' before clicking on the 'SUBMIT'. The dream content itself wasn't too out of the ordinary, aside from feeling incredibly lucid; what really surprised me was that I had a pretty clear picture of what happened. I never remember my dreams; I guess due to only sleeping off blackouts most of the time. That guy, though... Eh. Whatevs. Probably just side effects of starting up on whatever they're giving us. I crack my knuckles and ponder the day ahead of me. I was already bored, loving detox doldrums kicking in. Due to Fail teaching me how to manage our website and poo poo I have semi-competence with computers, so it doesn't take me long to find a way to cause mischief. pre:To: slejeune@wave4.oneiros.sci From: abailey@wave4.oneiros.sci Sup sunshine. Where's my eggs & bakey? No B N'B? What kind of resort you running here? See ya on the smoke deck. <3 The room was nice: cozy (if a bit too tidy for my tastes); nice view; fridge; big gently caress-off TV. Sure beats crashing on some semen-crusted couch. The only thing that was missing was my girly, but she wasn't that hard to find. They'd stuck her in the room adjacent to mine; I guess they didn't trust us enough to fork over a two-bedroom. Well, sleep time was over, and they couldn't stop me now! I crack open my door and peek into the bland, white, sterile hallways. Nothing and no one around, so I slip outside and open the door to her room, stealthily sliding through and shutting it softly behind me before turning towards her bed. She's all blissed-out peaceful-like, and I watch over her for a few moments with a slight smile before gently climbing in beside. She's not exactly used to luxury like this either; and for a moment I feel glad that I was able to take her away from our usual filth on this hosed-up little honeymoon. With a careful caress, I brush her hair from her face and touch her lips with mine. "Morning, sweetness. How'd you sleep?" hctibyllis fucked around with this message at 20:41 on Jul 28, 2013 |
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Jul 28, 2013 20:38
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I give her another kiss before rolling onto my back, looking up at the pristine, white ceiling. “Trippy place here, huh? Didn't feel a thing last night. Whole process seems pretty weird. I mean, why go to all this effort just to study something as pointless as dreams? Aren't dreams just, like, your brain barfing up whatever left-over crap you have floating around your subconscious or whatever?” Heart giggles. “Aww. C'mon! I think it's a great thing for you. And for the band! We could really use the money. This place is like, totes four-star resort too! Maybe it will help you... you know?” I smirk and roll over on top of her, pinning her arms to her sides. “Maybe, baby. But who's going to help you?” I playfully start to nibble and kiss her neck, which makes her squeal as usual. Soon we're all tangled up together in those neatly starched sheets. Looks like a couple 4th-Wavers are gonna be late for breakfast!
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Jul 31, 2013 04:06
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I notice the email after I slink back into the room for a shower. gently caress. I knew it. Sooner or later they were bound to hook me up with the resident shrink. Was it something I said to Dr. LaJupiter? I rub my temples for a moment before getting up and slipping out of my nighties. I guess I'd better see him about my meds, anyways. These SSRIs kinda screw with my appetite, though, and I don't really need to get any skinnier. After a nice steamy shower I step into a yellow summer dress - just to throw him off. Its basically cross-dressing for me, and Heart goes into a giggle fit when I stop by to see her before leaving for my appointment. “Hehe! How lovely, Nillie!” She pinches my cheek and I swat her hand away. “Don't get too used to it. Got a meeting with the local pill dispenser. Need to look pleasant and all that crap.” “You really think he'll fall for it?” Her eyebrows do that curly thing that's so cute! I give her one last kiss and head off. After a few wrong turns, I finally find the right building and glance over the directory. A few more turns down the hallways and I'm standing in front of a door adorned with a plaque bearing Dr. Morgan's name. *KNOCK KNOCK*
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Aug 1, 2013 05:28
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“A-M-B-I-S-E-X-U-A-L.” I smile as sweetly as I can manage (which might not be more than a rictus grin) before settling in the chair. “I'll take coffee, black. Thanks.” It's not my first time in the psycho hotseat, so I mentally harden myself against any passive aggressive onslaught of clinical mumbo-jumbo Mr. Rogers here might try to employ. None of them can understand, anyways. They just march through the diploma factory, sit in their comfy chairs and speculate over what others have written. Boost these chemicals here, dull these anxieties there. If they really could look into my mind they'd prescribe me the same poo poo I've been taking anyways – a horse ride into happyland. That or lobotomize. Not such a bad fate, really. Idiots are always happy. Just roll with the show, bitch. “So. What's on the agenda? Life story spiel? Gonna look at blots and describe my favorite positions?”
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Aug 2, 2013 02:31
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Mulling it over with Morgan "I dunno. You prescribe any 'herbal sedatives' here? Cuz, like, all these freakin' forms are stressing me out mannnnn." I play it deadpan for a tick, take a long sip of my coffee, then point to his tidy collection of plaques on the wall. "Brown, huh? Not much of a party school, is it? You guys sneak off into caves and read poetry?"
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Aug 3, 2013 00:19
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Mums the word, Mr. Morgan I smirk and place the cup on his desk, raising my hands in the air in a mock-surrender. "Whatever you say. You seem nice enough; not looking at me through a microscope yet anyways. I'm just peachy. Gonna go for a frolic in the Frisbee field in my Sunday dress after this. Look for clovers." I lean in closer, "Just keep me off the Zoloft, 'kay? Don't wanna have to change my name to 'Bones' or anything. Other than that, we can play handball for a half hour every day, 'cause I'm not here to get fixed, Doc. I'm not like your other patients. I'm not sobbing into my salad about how mommy left daddy; nor am I gonna go all Newtown 'cause I hate society or whatever. I'll be a good little lab rat for the cause, just keep those checks flowing into my bank account, and don't gently caress with Heart." I got to my feet and stretched, nodding up at the clock. "Lovely chat. I'm off to the races. Why don't you go check out that Lara chick? If anyone needs your help here, it's little Ms. Cray-Cray." With that, I sweep out of the room and head towards the smoke deck. What a joke. I gotta keep doin' this?? Time maybe for a little self-administered food poisoning. Got me out of this poo poo in the rehab. What can he possibly do, anyways? Gonna turn my life around? Who the hell needs normalcy. The cigarette is lit before I even make it outside.
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Aug 4, 2013 13:45
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{"Holy Hell" - Outside Maureen's Room} I'm almost out through the smoke deck door when I see the commotion. Bunch of coats and what looks like security staff running past me in a mad dash. I take another drag, letting them move a ways further down the hallway; then flick the butt out of a window and walk after them. Almost everyone from our wave was there, and a bunch of other people who must be guinea pigs that came before. I shoulder through the crowd to the front, where I can see that the room everyone's looking at belonged to Maureen. Oh poo poo. Did she flip out over what I said yesterday? Suddenly I begin to feel an odd sense of guilt wash over me. Something I'm totes not used to. I move up to Dr. LaJuice and lean around the corner... “What's going... oh. poo poo.”
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Aug 9, 2013 03:36
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{Guilt Tripping - Outside Maureen's Room} I turn away hastily and start booking it back to Heart's room. The look on my face would probably lie somewhere between sadness and loathing. I can't believe it happened again. No loving Way. That bitch had issues way before we came into the picture. poo poo, we only said a single sentence to her! But she had looked so sad. Even her snarky response was laden with an underlying misery. I should have seen it. That feeling you project when you're truly detached - no love whatsoever. I've been there a long time. I should have seen it... gently caress... [Andrea bumps past a few people during her retreat. Are those... tears?]
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Aug 14, 2013 00:08
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{Dream of the Dead - ???Stage Place???} They’re staring at me. Won’t look away. Condemning me with eyes full of hurt. I’m sitting on an empty stage, legs hanging over the side, looking down at the two women who had killed themselves over something I said. We don’t know that! Quit forcing guilt down our throats! I did know it, though. I’d been lying to myself long enough to recognize when I’m shifting the blame, however subconscious or whatever it may be. “What do you want from me?” I ask the ghosts; partly in a bitter act of intentional ignorance. I know I’m dreaming. I know the sorrow-stricken faces before me are nothing more than manifestations of my own self-loathing. And I know what they would want – me to join them. ‘Cept if there were an afterlife after all, I definitely wouldn’t go to the same place. Perhaps they were right. What’s the use of living if my only purpose in life seems to be hurting other people? Except I didn’t want to go out like that. Couldn’t. That would be turning my back on Chris completely, or at least that’s what she would see. No, my plan was always to have someone take care of the deed for me – another cheap cop-out, I suppose. So its a loving great excuse to get into as many confrontations as possible, make as many enemies as I can and generally be a nasty bitch – though the irony of this cyclical behavior is not lost on me; it just gives me even more reason to hate myself, knowing that I’m perpetrating incidents like what happened with Maureen intentionally. Surely one day some vengeful lover, or gang banger, or family member will carry out my inevitable execution; and with that I’ll deal my final blow to the last person I really have feelings for: Heart. Angel would be so loving pissed at me right now, and I couldn’t blame her. What the hell is my problem? Is it all really just because I wanted to be a strong, protective brother instead of a weak, scared-shitless sister? I guess I have pretty sexist intra-personal views after all, if that’s true. Seems like another line of bullshit. What if it had nothing to do with guarding Chris? What if I’d always felt that way, and just used the traumatic experience as a red-herring to convince myself that I wasn’t gender-hosed? The ghosts don’t answer me, they just keep staring – my silent audience. There’s the door… perhaps an exit to this misery? Maybe they’ll find me in the morning, all twisted and tangled in the headgear, like Sister Christian was. “RIP, and gently caress off already.” I get off my rear end and open the door.
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Aug 19, 2013 22:02
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{"Monsters Inc.?" - The Dream World} First thing I notice is that I’m a lot bigger. It’s funny how your perception can change so much with another foot or so. It’s like I have on the most jacked loving heels ever. And on top of that my arms and legs feel stronger somehow. Then the realization hits me, I’m having one of those guy dreams again! …and there are a lot of weird mofos in this one. Jesus, what is that thing?! Entering the strange room filled with strange creatures, I let the surrounding conversations clue me in. Except this is a dream, so they’re just regurgitating our own subconscious thoughts, right? Compared to some of the others, I’m pretty low profile; so its easy to hang towards the back, lean up against the wall and soak it all in. I gather that this is a pretty common occurrence, everyone coming together for some kind of meeting. Supposedly the Lab Rats Who Came Before are here as well; and they’re showing us the ropes; and apparently things like How to impersonate a Pixar film are pretty high on the agenda. A round table? Really? A huge loving demon snarls in my general direction, lovely. “Ah… no. I’m actually part of Wave 2.5. Codename: O.W.L.F.O.B. Can’t say anymore, sorry. Classified.” hctibyllis fucked around with this message at 04:20 on Aug 23, 2013 |
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Aug 21, 2013 15:15
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{"Monsters Inc.?" - The Dream World} I shrug at the wolf-man, “Oops-We-Left-a-Few-On-the-Bus. Thus the ‘.5’. It was a terrible miscalculation that was immediately kept under wraps. Most of the others were shuffled off to the gas chamber behind the volley ball courts. Awful business, that. The question you should be asking is, “Why did they let an rear end in a top hat like him live?”; but you’ll be a lot safer not knowing the answer. Trust me. By the way, been around Puerto Rico lately? I think they have your mug on a few wanted posters. Dreadful things done to the goats down there. Just dreadful. I don’t suppose you care to explain that little coincidence? Perhaps we better just let sleeping dogs lie, yes?” While I was rambling off the BS, I realized there was something I was interested in here after all. “Hey, anyone seen that new guy? Goes by the name ‘Moon’, or something?” hctibyllis fucked around with this message at 04:20 on Aug 23, 2013 |
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Aug 21, 2013 16:29
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{"Monsters Inc.?" - The Dream World} I nod at the Decidedly-Not-Disney character, and turn to face the two doors. My gut’s telling me to go through Butterfly. Why aren’t they out of there yet? gently caress I hope nothing’s happened like with Maureen. By the way, which door did we come out of? And what’s up with the symbols? This place is totes cray-cray. Unfortunately my inner monologue still seems to be stuck in ‘girl mode’, despite inhabiting a more suitable form. That said, I definitely feel a bit more swagga-licious than usual. Maybe the rest will come with time? I can only assume I’m going to be doing this for quite awhile yet. Why not have some fun? I casually sweep the new dark hair from my face and make an ultra-suave quarter turn to face the door with the pretty Monarch insignia. I try to open it… *** *** *** [OOC: Not sure how far I can go, or if the door would even open! And what’s my symbol?  ]
hctibyllis fucked around with this message at 04:20 on Aug 23, 2013 |
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Aug 21, 2013 17:52
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{"Monsters Inc.?" - The Dream World} I was completely not expecting what I saw in the Butterfly room. Compared to the very mundane setting of my own ‘Dream Room’, it was like night and day. Could it be that Moon was already in his alternate form, despite not having exited? Or perhaps we just perceive other people’s rooms differently than our own? Very confusing stuff. “Never seen anything like this before,” I respond to Mr. Toon Town. “It’s pretty amazing… and beautiful. Careful what you touch, though. Who knows what could happen.” The path opens up into a glade up ahead, but suddenly I’m hit with a deep feeling of apprehension – like I’m trespassing on holy ground or something. poo poo, for all I know that might be actually be true. I don’t care much for silly spirituality or pretentious religion, but this is someone’s dream for gently caress sake. It just doesn’t seem right to barge in without warning. I call out, trying to sound as non-threatening as I can. “Hey… Moon? You in there? Everything okay?” I’m eyeing the little faerie creatures warily when I notice the crowd of dreamers coming through the door behind us. Huh. Wonder if Moon is going to be happy with everyone bum-rushing his little private playground. Oh well, can’t stop them anyways… or can we? *** [OOC: Can I roll to manipulate the others into backing off? If so, what’s my target number, and would my roll be 3d6 + 3?] hctibyllis fucked around with this message at 04:20 on Aug 23, 2013 |
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Aug 22, 2013 18:31
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{"Monsters Inc.?" - The Dream World} Hey it’s… HOLY poo poo OOPS! I quickly turn around, immediately aware that I’m in a male body, and the (Faerie?) girl is probably really freaked out that some random dude just barged in on her while she’s undressed. I block the animated character’s view with my body, “Dude, turn around! Cartoons can comprehend modesty, yes? Use those wacky limbs to stop the others.” Before I do anything else, I call out to those approaching as well, “Everyone ABORT! Please return to Camelot, ASAP, unless you wanna make an already creepy situation even worse! Vacate the premises immediately, thanks!!” Manipulate the Masses (Manipulate them Asses!) = 13 (Well not my best form, then!) I turn my head slightly, speaking in a low tone over my shoulder to the naked woman. “Dreadfully sorry about this. If you see Moon, will you tell him Nil wants to chat? My apologies again, we’ll be leaving now.” And with that I begin to walk back down the path, hauling the Roger Rabbit refugee with me. hctibyllis fucked around with this message at 04:21 on Aug 23, 2013 |
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Aug 22, 2013 20:32
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{"Moon's Glade" - The Dream World} While Tinkerbell gets dressed, my (admittedly modest) brain powers resolve the hidden equation. OMFG It's MOON! I should have known... the way Angel looks up to them – its almost obvious in hindsight. drat! So we both have this loving thing going on. I curl my lip in the slightest of smiles while sitting down on the bed, still facing away from her, taking in the sights. It really is a world apart from the small piece of hell behind my own door. I could literally feel it. A sense of harmony, peace and ethereal grace; palpable on the cool, gentle breeze. Branches adorned with lights that seem to cast off an otherworldly glow. Beautifully strange pigmentation of the leaves and grass; and everything surrounded by visible auras, saturated with emotion.  The whole place is just... “...amazing. You look really amazing, Moon. I had no idea.” The last words escape my lips tinged with a certain sadness, unspoken but no doubt felt between us in the heavy silence that followed.
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Aug 23, 2013 04:43
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{"Moon's Glade" - The Dream World} I clear my throat. “*hrm* Uh... yeah. I um.” poo poo this is, like, way harder than it would be! I clear my throat again. “*AHMRR* Well. So I kind of know this girl who reads your stuff. You probably don't know her, we live in NYC. Unless she wrote to you maybe? Her name's Angel Costas and she's in my band – Banshee & the Siren. I'd be more surprised if you'd heard our music, actually. We haven't got signed yet or anything.” Deep breath. “Anyways, she told me about your stuff, and I think it's pretty great. I guess you might have figured out by now that I have my own issues with...er... identity. I mean, like, I know who I am; but I don't know if the rest of the world does.” I pause for a moment, racking my brain for a suitable allegory. “It's like... nature hosed up and put a cookie in the wrong mold or something.” Christ that sounds stupid. But I can't really think of another way to describe the enigma known in the community only as 'Disphoria'. I get off the bed and face her, now that she's dressed; shrugging my shoulders. “But here, in this weird-rear end Dream World, somehow I got poured into the right spot on the baking sheet, you know? gently caress.” I shake my head and look down, feeling like I'm too stupid to accurately get across what I'm trying to say. “It's just... when I'm awake I have... problems dealing with myself. I guess I have a lot of self-loathing issues that go on in my messed up mind. I can't help but feeling I'll never look to others like anything more than just some skinny chick, and it just makes me sick. Like right now, even... I don't even know if I sound like a guy or not. And people here are just gonna know me as Andrea anyways, and this “avatar” is nothing more than a figment; like that cartoon dude.” I brush a hand through my hair awkwardly – now it's my turn to blush!
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Aug 28, 2013 05:20
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{"Moon's Glade" - The Dream World} The relief must be written on my face. I make a half-smile, trying not to look too excited, 'cause that wouldn't be cool. Drew is always cool, unlike Andrea the hothead. "Thanks. Of course, I wouldn't think of you any other way either. I guess I prefer Drew while I'm here. Short for Andrew, masculine version of Andrea. Maybe not too creative but... I might be able to do better with yours." I walk over to the mushroom, fold my arms and grin playfully down at my new fairy friend. "You're like a little Tinkerbell. So how about I call you 'Belle'?" The name means 'Beauty', and it definitely fits her!
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Aug 28, 2013 06:05
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{"Morning is Broken" - Bedroom / Cafeteria} loving dealing with computers in the morning is like having a hangover posted:Of course I'm not going to tell them what really happened. I'm not exactly sure I'm ready to believe it myself. It felt so drat real: the muscles, the height, the dude-swag. And Moon (Belle) looked so freakin amazing... Whoa. Hold on. Just because its a dream doesn't mean its not cheaty for us to have dirty thoughts about another girl. But still, I do. I imagine what it would feel like to be a guy, being close to a girl I was really into. Completely different experience in some ways. It would be fuckin' great if Heart could come into the Dream World with me. She'd probably be some kind of goddess made of rainbows or some poo poo. Mega hawt. I swing my legs off of the computer desk and get to my feet. For some reason, I actually feel hungry for once. Glancing in the mirror hung on the back of my room's door, I look forlornly at my small frame and girlish facial features. Somehow the sight is immediately repulsing – I donn't wanna see anything but 'Drew' looking back at me right now. A seriously depressing cloud of self-hate rolls in over my head, and I suddenly decide I'm not that interested in seeing my girlfriend right away. I head for the shower, intentionally avoiding any reflective surfaces. * * * When I arrive in the cafeteria, I'm again taken aback at just how swanky everything looks; and the meals are a far cry from my usual diet of friend's leftovers or soup-kitchen carte du jour. Lots of people are already digging in; the dozen or so tables being mostly occupied by all the different waves of lab rats, including my own. I pass by Axel and Bernard, smirking to myself. I wonder what kind of stupid, compensating, no-doubt-testosterone-broiled slice of mental 'paradise' they dreamt up. Then I realize, ironically, that was a pretty fitting description of my own dream-self as well. Although I don't know if it would be fair to call it 'compensating' since it was already a part of my identity in the first place – though suppressed. But then again, was everyone's dream-self a repressed part of their psyche? Shaking off the cobwebs of sleepy confusion, I pour myself some coffee, grab a doughnut and take a seat at the nearest table. I don't recognize anyone next to me, and I don't see Moon. Biting into the sugary pastry, I momentarily ponder my decision to suck down such a fatty food. I never eat these things, let alone have breakfast of any kind. Perhaps I'm unconsciously trying to pack on some pounds so I can look more like the well-built man who's haunting my thoughts. This is gonna be a very weird day. hctibyllis fucked around with this message at 06:18 on Sep 1, 2013 |
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Sep 1, 2013 06:15
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{"Hearts & Moons" - Cafeteria} Moon sits down before I even see him coming. Wait. Shouldn’t we use… No. Not yet. Better to confirm some things first. We don’t even know if they saw the same things we did! I’m a bit startled by the sudden appearance, but I manage to keep a cool outward-demeanor. Be like Drew! We can do this. I clear my throat, raising my mug in a half-rear end salutation. “Hey. How was your… dream? Did you…um. (*hrm*). I kinda had one about you.” Just then Heart comes over, sparing me from the awkward moment. She’s looking and smelling as good as ever. While I enjoy the good fortune of having her company, I have to inwardly admit feeling a small bit of guilt. She’s probably wondering why we didn’t come over this morning. Think fast! “H-hey sweetie.” I return the embrace, careful not to spill my coffee. “Sorry. I’m okay. Just uh… I was really hungry for some reason. Maybe this whole “clean” thing is starting to work, yeah?” Quickly diverting the flow of the conversation, I turn to Moon and smile perhaps a bit too broadly. “Moon, Heart. Heart, Moon. You might have heard Angel talking about Moon’s work, babe. Looks like we’re in this thing together.” I wrap my arm casually around my girlfriend’s waist, feeling her soft, warm skin under mine. It’s more a reflexive move than a sentimental gesture, though; to help clear those pesky thoughts of Moon’s alternate self from my mind. Just stay cool for gently caress sake. * * * [OOC: Let me know if I need to roll anything to successfully lie to my girlfriend!  ]
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Sep 3, 2013 15:58
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{"Spontaneous Talent Show?" - Auditorium-sorta-place} I sit down after taking in the sights a bit. The place was pretty huge, and I couldn't believe how many asses filled the seats. A lot more people were doing this program than I'd thought. "No idea. Wonder if they hosed up too much for Big Brother to ignore. Those guys are definitely not scientists. Maybe they're here to collect our belts and shoelaces." Having spent most of my young life in the system, I was innately wary of any government-types. You're just a number these kinds of people. Suddenly I wished Heart had been able to join us. "I just hope they didn't change their minds about my probation. Could get used to this food." As I speak, I overhear Jonas's animated voice, and recognize him as the cartoon person from the dream. Fits his personality perfectly. poo poo. Maybe all that stuff really did happen. Let's just go with it and see what happens. "Hey." I turn back to face Moon with a slight smile, keeping my voice low. "Is it okay call you Belle? Anyways... I kinda have a crazy idea about something we could do tonight. Y'know. In the dream. I want to see how far that rabbit hole really goes. That Lara chick was doing some pretty cool stuff; but maybe we could enlist her skills to do something more productive. Like, maybe find out whats truly makes this place tick."
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Sep 5, 2013 06:09
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{"Spontaneous poo poo Show." - Auditorium-sorta-place} "Really?!" I call out after the suits. They're just gonna drop that on us and scoot off to their next business meeting? gently caress this place. I'm now more determined than ever to find out what's behind the curtain, and I'm starting to think the Dream World is our ticket backstage. It was worth noting, however, as horrible as the news of Fatimah's death was to hear, at least it gave me some hope that just maybe my being a bitch to Maureen wasn't what caused her death. If I could find out what was causing the subjects to drop like flies then... Hold up. What are we, some kind of fuckin' detective? We have no idea how the dreamstuff works, or even if its safe to use it on a scale like we have in mind. What if we end up over-cooked just like the last two? Then gently caress it. What do I care about burnt brains? Fried mine plenty already. I grab "Let's go find that Lara girl, okay? I'll explain later, but we need her to help us with what I've got in mind. Perhaps with her crazy-rear end power we can discover what really happened to my two ex-wave-mates. You're pretty good with reason, and I've got the persuasion covered. Together I bet we could convince anyone of anything. C'mon, I think she went out to that big rear end Frisbee field or whatever."
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Sep 9, 2013 05:01
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