#demented dreamworld plot

[hermit-engineer]

“She’s beautiful.”

The whisper came from the birdcage this time. His songbirds, Desmond and Molly, stare at him, eyes glowing red. He backs up a step. He thought this was done, that it’d just been his imagination and it’d gone away. But it was back now. Was it his own anxiety or something else? Whatever it was, Dee didn’tlike it one bit.

“Yes. Such a lovely girl, charming and smart. Young too. I would say your Reynaud has chosen a fine replacement for you.”

“...no. No, t’ain’t like that at all. Rey’d never do that t’ me, he loves me...”

“Perhaps he does. Yes. As we told you before- like a sweet old hound dog. What do you do when your old dog nears the end of his life? You get another. Something far cuter and sweeter, so much better, so when the old mutt gets put down you can forget all about him. No muss, no fuss.”

“Stop it, shut up... Rey’d never do me like that! He’s not replacing me, damnit, he loves me...!”

“She is younger than you. Prettier than you. Healthier too. I would bet she’s a far more satisfying lover as well, don’t you think?”

“...ah said stop it...” He reaches behind him instinctively. His fingers curl around a familiar, cool piece of metal, one that’s been his most dependable tool for years. Even before he lifts it, he can feel its familiar, comforting heft.

“You can’t even make love to him, can you? Not really. It’s all in dreams. Your body can’t handle it. But hers can. That young, shapely body, I bet he can do all sorts of things with it. In every way you’re lacking, she excels.”

“Ah... ah’m warnin’ you...!”

“Face it, Dell. You are obsolete.”

“stop it... STOP IT! STOP TELLIN’ LIES!”

The wrench flies. Cage and birds are smashed- there is no laughing voice in the last seconds, just terrified modulated twitters followed by a crash of metal, the smash of steel on steel. Dee’s gunslinger has the wrench in a deathgrip, his flesh hand gripping tightly to the crystal around his neck. There is nothing now. Just a wrecked cage and smashed robot birds, and Dee’s fury subsides immediately into regret, his screams of rage and fear immediately melting into apologies. Desmond and Molly- he can fix them. It’ll take some doing, but he can. It doesn’t make him feel much better, though.

One last whisper drifts by before disappearing into nothing. So soft it maybe didn’t exist at all.

‘Are you angry because I am lying to you... ...or because deep down you know I am telling the truth?’

[zehypocriticaloath]

He had another nightmare.

Typically nightmares were not uncommon to him. He often had nightmares, and it was one reason why he found himself staying up late, night after night, finding excuses to stay awake: tinkering with his equipment, researching medical oddities, experimenting with various things on equally various subjects.

The latest nightmares were different. They weren’t really nightmares. They were more like night terrors, and they were leaving him breathless with fear. They seemed to be vivid now, more so than ever. He swore he could actually touch things. He swore he actually felt things. And he swore that he was never, ever alone.

He often scanned the darkened corners of his side of the infirmary at night, when he was still awake and not asleep. Likewise, he applied the same tactic to his bedroom, to the infirmary restroom, to every single room he was currently residing in. He never saw anything, not a single scrap of something being out of the norm, or out of place, but he swore something unseen was following him, watching him, mocking him.

The subject of his anxiety and paranoia were everyday things. But they were usually kept under wraps, kept at bay, and didn’t flare up this intensely.

He found himself refusing to sleep. For a few days he found ways to keep himself up and busy. It began to affect his work performance, but at the same time he didn’t care. So he did things at a slower pace. So he skimped out on completing some paperwork. Who truly bothered to keep a tally?

As much as he was loathed to admit, he did have to sleep. After a few days of staving off rest, he allowed himself to sleep once more. At first all was well. A night passed, no nightmare. Another night, and another.

But then it began again.

He had been chased in his latest night terror. Chased through that familiar dream corridor. Twisting with sharp turns and gaping, broken holes in the floor plunging into a darkened abyss below, he tried to transverse the derelict building of his dreams, attempting to escape who it was who was chasing him.

He had almost been caught this time. He woke up before the man’s strong hand clamped around his thinner arm, squeezing, and squeezing, tighter and tighter as he attempted to break bones...

He had screamed.

Upon screaming in that fantastical, dreaded dream of his, he was snapped back to reality by his own terrified shriek. He had woken up drenched with sweat, slumped down in his reading chair, the novel he had been reading long since dropped and cast aside. Frantically he had searched himself, feeling something a bit off.

That’s when he pushed up his sleeve and noticed a blossoming bruise darkening on his arm.

[booletsandblossoms]

Alexei swore softly, changing the band-aids on his arm and sides. This was really odd- the thorn pricks he’d got the other day weren’t healing over right. In fact, they seemed to be getting worse, continuing to bleed.

Bleeding, strange dreams. He was so tired lately, too. But he didn’t talk about this stuff- it was all minor, really. More important things needed attention.

He’d just have to get tough, that’s all.

[theavatarofdreams]

There it is again, that... odd tingling in zhe back of my ‘ead. Like someone is trying to communicate... or zhe balance of things are off.

[magical-secretary]

I don’t like this feeling in the air. Something feels... I dunno. Bad.

Real bad.

[dreamworldhasmoved-blog]

We see you.

We see you.

We see Y-O-U.

[quickscoped]

Dominik couldn't believe his ears. No... could it be? His radio had been turned off. In fact, the batteries had run out of juice. So why was it making noise?

Was that... whitenoise?

[hermit-engineer]

Heartless Whispers

Everything was going as well as could be expected.

Dee was still solitary and still going to die before his time- these things weren’t going to change, as far as he saw. But they had improved so much in every other area. He was still alone, but he wasn’t totally so. He had someone who loved him and he loved back, he had as much tinkering as he could handle, and even his illness’ symptoms seemed to be taking it easy lately.

Yes, it seemed everything was as well as it could be, except for-

It won’t last, you know.

Except for that. It’s been happening for a couple weeks now. Every so often, when he felt the most at ease, his mechanical pets began to speak to him. It was Jojo the dog now, who sat before him, glass eyes alight, and spoke in a cruel, thin tone. He hadn’t made them able to speak beyond the sounds they’d normally make- that was the first odd thing about it. The second was that the things they said were-

He’s only doing this because he pities you.

No. That’s not true, it can’t be true. Rey had been nothing but kind to him. Rey loved him. He’d given him part of himself, for heaven’s sake!

You’re inconsequential. He’s an eternal maker of dreams, existing everywhere and nowhere, at all times and no times. You won’t even live long in human years. What is a brief creature like you in the face of glorious eternity?

No. No, he said I was important, he said he cared for me...

At best, like a pet. Something cute and loyal that you know will be outlived by you, that you know doesn’t understand you. Oh, it tries, it gives you all it can in it’s little beastly heart and little beastly mind, but it doesn’t know you. And when it dies, it won’t take you long to get over it. And that’s what you are. A dalliance. A trifle. In the eyes of infinity, you’re nothing.

“S...stop it...”

You’re nothing, tinker man. Nothing.

“AH SAID STOP IT--!”

Dee grabs the nearest thing and throws it, an impulse of terror. Jojo yelps and darts away, confused as to his master’s outburst.

“W-wait... ah’m sorry, fella, ah...”

Crumbling, Dee rests his face in one hand. The other clutches at the pendant near his heart.

[zehypocriticaloath]

Nightmare

He woke up in a cold sweat, his lungs screaming for air. Opening his mouth, he gulped in a few lungfuls of oxygen, hoping to still his frenzied heart. A hand clutched at the covers, the other was frozen in the middle of the useless act of clawing at his throat.

It was over. It was all over. It was just a nightmare. 

The morning is here, there is nothing to fear, the shadows have all gone away.

His mother used to coo that to him when he was a scared child. Now, in his adulthood, he shamelessly used it. Normally that self-prescribed mental mantra helped him during those long, terrifying nights when he had one nightmare after another, but it did little to succor his hysterical heart. Closing his eyes, he tried to will away the memory of that dream, wanting to keep it locked away forever where no one could ever know of it, and where he could no longer remember it.

He risked a glance over at his sleeping partner. Alexei had him in a half hug, but it really didn’t bother him. He slept close to him, he loved the physical contact and the warmth of his body. Still, he must have thrashed and writhed in the throes of his night terror. He could tell, the sheets on his side were a mess. How he didn’t wake up Alexei was beyond him.

It took him some time, but he managed to untangle himself from the sheets and slip from the Russian’s arms. Rosencoff sighed in his sleep only once, but did not wake. His brow was furrowed, almost in a concerned manner, and Aldous took pause only for a few moments to wonder if he was having a nightmare too.

What time was it? No, no... he had overslept. Dammit, he wanted to get up early and finish the tweaking being done to his Medigun. He needed to fine tune it again, it was overdue. 

Not like you do anything worthwhile, a voice not his own hissed in the back of his head. You’re lazy and worthless. Your brother was always better at everything, and he still is. You can’t amount to him, and everyone loves him. No one likes you. You’re useless. You know you’re better off leaving this place. No one really wants you around.

“I am not in the mood for this right now,” Aldous snapped angrily in his native tongue as he made his way, groggily, into the infirmary. He didn’t care if his hair was a mess, or that he was still wearing his pajama bottoms and a wrinkled shirt. He needed his coffee.

You’re never in a good mood anyway. You’ve made so many new friends as of late, but do they honestly know how you are?

“Shut up.”

Do they know what you’ve done? What you’re capable of? If they knew, they’d leave you.

Sighing in agitation, Aldous went about making some coffee. He let his fingernails dig at the edge of the counter as he waited for the coffee maker to warm up. He wasn’t about to get into this today, especially so early in the morning. 

Fleetingly a thought flickered through his already loud and busy mind. He lingered on an idea, a concept, one of medication. He had ceased taking his medication when he hunted down that rat bastard who had decided it was best to go around and harm innocent people. Well, ‘innocent’ by MannCo standards. They were all guilty of something, seeing as they were the scum of the earth, hired mercenaries to fight a seemingly never-ending war. But that aside, he refused to take his medication then so he wouldn’t be help back by a conscious. He had all the mind to get back on a proper schedule when he returned... yet he didn’t. He had outright refused to, and still was. He wanted to remember the days when he wasn’t on it, when his mind wasn’t smothered by what felt like a cotton haze. Sure, he was still shackled to his own mind and delusions, but at least he felt himself.

He knew his brother would be inquiring on when he needed a refill. He’d have to lie, come up with an excuse and say, yes, he wanted some. As much as he hated what he was experiencing now, he didn’t want to to back. Not yet, at least.

You always lie to people.

“Fuck off.” Aldous poured some of the freshly perked coffee into his favorite mug. He ignored the slight visual hallucination, the one that temporarily made the liquid appear to be tar, or some sort of toxic sludge. He was getting used to such things, and he could readily write most, if not all, off as not being real.

You lie to yourself. You lie to your friends, and they lie back. They’re not really friends. They just want to befriend you so they can take advantage of you.

Taking his mug over to his office, he sat down in his familiar armchair. He looked at the small table beside it. On it lay his newest book. He was only a fraction into it, but he found comfort in partaking of that daily ritual of reading.

That nightmare, what did it mean? He remembered being locked in a metal box, or so it seemed. It had been cold, and he swore he felt his breath. He could hear screams on the outside, he could hear tools clinking and the brittle sound of something cracking. He tried screaming, but he found he could not. Nothing escaped his lips.

But what chilled him the most was a voice he heard. It was familiar to him, and somehow it sent fear into him, more than the darkness or the cold, or being locked in some dark, metal box.

No, he mused to himself. It’s over. It was just a nightmare. I get them all the time. There is nothing to worry about. The morning is here, there is nothing to fear, the shadows have all gone away.

Shakily he opened the book and flipped to the last page he had been on. In an hour he’d wake up Alexei, and make him something to eat. He’d then get dressed and he’d start his day. Until then, he’d read. He’d read to calm down his frenzied heart, and his equally frenzied mind.

[booletsandblossoms]

He slept.

The confrontation had worn him out. He was emotionally drained, and he just wanted to sleep. So he curled among his plants and did so. Just a nap, a short sleep until he felt better, that’s all...

His dreams were strange. Everything was so dark, and there was the feeling of vines embracing him. Holding him.

Our poor Alexei. How you suffer, and no one sees. You hide it so well. But don’t worry. You can be here with us. We love you so. We need you so. You don’t have to worry about anything...

He awoke hours later, far longer than he’d meant to sleep. Picking himself up groggily, he noticed something odd- his arm was bleeding, from little puncture holes. Huh. Must’ve rolled onto a bramble.

He sighs. He’d slept so long, and it didn’t feel like he’d got any rest at all...

[dreamworldhasmoved-blog]

Ti...ck.....to---o----o---ock.

Ti....c...k....

T.......Ti.....c....k.....

Ti....ck....

....t.....ock......

.........t.......o....c....k.....

tick.

tock.

tick tock.

tick tock, tick tock, tick tock----

TICK TOCK.

TICK TOCK.

Time is running out, darlings.

The candle is alight.

The fire is flickering out.

Tick tock, tick tock.

....tick.... to----

[quickscoped]

"Jeremiah, don't you dare give up. If you give up, I'll never forgive you."

[zehypocriticaloath]

redpocketengy replied to your post: *the phone nearby begins to ring*

….*blinks a bit confused at the remark but continues on* Guess I got tha wrong number, but maybe Satan’s secretary can give me some help.

He snorts, recognizing the voice. "I have to have some bit of humor in my life, Patch. I'm stuck vith Hilderich here, and Niklaus. Driving me nuts." He leans back in his desk chair, propping his feet up on the desk. "Vhat can I do for you?"

[booletsandblossoms]

Cavalry

He couldn't find his friend anywhere. Strange things had been happening all over the base. People collapsing, then gaining injuries out of nowhere. Suffering. Caught in what seemed to be perpetual horror. And Alexei knew that Dom was one of those stricken- he'd seen him lapse into the strange coma-like state before. And now with so many people out, the Heavy felt he needed to find his friend as soon as possible, make sure he was comfortable and cared for until he woke up. But he hadn't been able to find him. There was one more chance. If anyone knew where to find Dom... Looking to the roof of the camper, the gardener gives a worried, earnest look to the magnificent bird perched there. "Hallo, leetle Dain. Am needing help. You helped find me vhen vas in trouble. Need you now to help finding our friend Dom. Can help? Please?"