#that place must be a fucking decibel nightmare

[wesslan]

ok it’s late but i have THOUGHTS

aint no way that jason’s hearing isnt a bit fucked after being around so many guns and bombs n shit

like ive fired a weapon multiple times - that shit can get LOUD

“oo but the helmet could block the sounds” listen my hearing is FUCKED and all it took was a little blink-182 and a pair of shitty earbuds istg that man should NOT be able to hear properly, helmet or no helmet blocking the sounds a bit

idk ive been thinking about the consequences of being a vigilante in gotham city lately and like?? my man should at the very least be impossible to talk to in places with a lot of background noise because i sure am, and again, all it took for me was a bit of loud noise and BOOM hearing = permanently fucked

comms would be a saving grace, his vigilante life probably wouldnt be too affected regarding hearing what people say in the field. but hearing people sneak up on him? spying on far away conversations without having a hidden mic somewhere? no wayy dude

and in civilian life? talking to someone in a crowded restaurant? convos at a concert or party/gala? someone trying to get his attention from far away? people mumbling or not looking at him while theyre talking? awful

idk i gotta lot of feelings about it

[deathghost8]

3 character journal shorts

[]AutolysiS v1.0[] TUESDAY, JANUARY 13, 2009 A Dream Within A Dream, by No One. This is like an obsession. Every night, my world becomes haunted. Echoes of apparitions and demons wade through my consciousness, and then I'm taken to slumber, after enough time. I don't have nightmares--- the whole experience is a nightmare. I do not want this. They take from me what should not be taken. Objection: Human condition is to need sleep. All we have is to make peace with it. I reject this. We need better technology. Something is keeping it from us; Whomever is running this simulation perhaps. I'm not going crazy. I'm trying to detach myself from everything that holds me back. I recently dreamt of this freedom. No sleep, no limits. No social systems controlling me (such as economics). It's like mortality is an institution I've stopped believing in. I'm tired of being locked in a cell on a regular basis. What did I do to deserve this punishment. I want my freedom. I'm a dream within a dream. I can wake up, but it keeps coming back. And someday, it will be over... 5TH JANUARY 2016 HAUNTER It had been only minutes, it seemed, since he collapsed exhausted into bed. Crushing, enormous pain filled his mind, hurling him back to consciousness. Crying out in the darkness, simultaneously involuntary and yet labored. It was so hard to exert the force, yet all he could do. He could not yet pry himself from the bed. He was frozen in pain. Was it an evil spirit, visiting disdainfully? *What have I done to deserve this, please go away, you. I’ve nothing against you. I just need my rest. I beg of you.* No. No, that was nonsense. I’m actually dead. I am doomed to whimper in the dark for the next foreseeable while, with no end to it. My peace has been stolen away, he thought to himself as he continued to bend under the weight of the cold oppression on his mind. I can’t even have a reasonable death. He would have chuckled except for the pain exceeding anything he had ever felt. It occupied him. Self was lost, faded into the background, the sharpness in his head was the only thing in existence. And the only thing keeping him conscious. Finally he managed to leave the bed, still moaning. Oooow. He stumbled in the dark to the kitchen for a pill. He stumbled into the study for a bit of a breath from his herbal inhaler. If there was any hope for him now it was the relief that God’s plant could bring to him. There he sat on the sofa bed. And the dark one sat beside him. The pain throbbed and lurched. He stared the entity in his invisible face. Why have you come here? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ AUG 2017 ~SLEEPWALKER~~ It seemed like a dream or just beyond one, at first. I heard a machine beep and whirr to a stop. (It’s the middle of the hottest week my northwestern city has seen in years, dead center of August) It was cold, so INCREDIBLY fucking surreal cold, then I was standing over the toilet. I don’t know how I got there. Had I just used it? My clothes were uncomfortable like they get as they twisted up as I wander dreamscapes. My neck hurts, I notice. Why is my pillow made of stone? And, How can it be this icy in here? Wonder I. Instinctively reach to flush, then, the voice crashes into me. WHY DID YOU TURN OFF THE AC? NO ONE CAN SLEEP IN THIS HEAT BECAUSE YOU DID THAT I jump, I’m 10% conscious, if that. the voice shattered into me from nowhere and my heart begins to pound, but I can’t shake the fog. I can’t become awake. I’m trapped in this, I have no fucking idea what’s happening. The slamming of my heart is loud as fuck, but I somehow know I need to produce words, even though I can’t hear over its heavy steps. I mutter back - I guess I must’ve woken up cold, I’m really cold, what’s happening? What’s happening? I feel myself step toward the voice, out of the restroom, and as if I’m negotiating the path with another body. It’s pitch dark, I can’t see her. The voice was feminine, yet deep and without affect. Large, so large like the only thing occupying any of the space near me. I feel myself stumble forward after working out the path, into the bedroom. This room is not where I had been sleeping. Where the fuck have I gone to? Is this even my house? It feels like it’s been years since I went to bed for the night, I’ve been wandering dreamscapes for an abnormally long interval I collapse down in what feels like a pile of clutter. Toys, clothes, a couch pillow, some snack wrappers. I don’t know what this is. I’m up against part of the wall and part of a hard heavy object, crumpled in a sort of face down fetal pile. There’s a new noise. A huge fan screams into my ear, rotating angrily and my heart continues trying to create flight that I can wake and be out of this place… but I’m a god damn rock, I’m plastered to the ground and I notice that I’m completely covered by a flannel sheet of some kind. It’s not clothes, just a sheet disheveled around parts of me and it’s all the way over me. My breath echoes back off it hotly into my face. My head begins to throb in massive agony. Breath, throb, beat, and the spinning screaming. I’m STILL freezing fucking cold. I can’t hear anything human, just all these machines pummeling me and I can’t wake the fuck up and escape this. Why the fuck can’t I wake. I’m suffocating. I get the idea that I can stand up and stretch out, I can get to the bed and then maybe everything will make sense. I do this, as if I’ve taken some percentages of lucidity back even though all the fog is still pressing in on me harshly. The screaming fades down, I can still hear it but now my heart pounding is the loudest again. This is stress, like the most I’ve ever felt. I’m terrified. The voice appears again, directly beside my ear now instead of huge and abstract like before. WHERE THE FUCK HAVE YOU BEEN. IVE BEEN LOOKING EVERYWHERE FOR YOU. HOW CAN YOU DO THIS TO ME. WAKE UP RIGHT NOW AND GET OUT HERE. The voice throws me to my feet, somehow. I don’t feel I’m in any control of my physical body. What’s wrong, I’m so cold, what’s going on? - I ask it helplessly I’m being marched back out of the bedroom I had found, then we stop. IF YOURE SO COLD WHY DON’T YOU USE A FUCKING BLANKET snaps the voice back at me, and rushes away into the blackness as I stare at nothing, and feel my existence rocking beneath my heart’s frantic strikes All of a sudden I feel a heavy soft thing land over me. Here comes the blanket, I infer. WTF. Now I feel the other body push me, a strong sudden force against my chest, I stumble but keep my balance, it just surprised me from the darkness. YOU USELESS PIECE OF SHIT Now she's pushing me back into the bedroom, we are marching again. Fan screaming on my right this time. I trip and land on a mattress, like I was guided in the fall to it, shoved with a certain aim. my face lands between two pillows. I don’t try to reposition, I just leave my face here, knowing it’s where I must be, the only way out of this is to accept what is happening and not try to redirect in any way. The fan is screaming again, and it’s otherwise silent. Realizing I'm not cold anymore, my heart starts to slow and speak in a lower decibel. Hours seem to pass, and I go to sleep, blackest fog still hanging in every part of me. Am I even going to remember this in the morning?