January Event - Lost in Dreamland

[pumpkinhollow]

**Plain text version here.

Lost in Dreamland

Bedtime Story

{ CONTENT WARNINGS: Unreality, dream logic. Mind the CWs in individual threads, as they will vary! }

It is no secret that in the Emerald Isles, winter and sleep have a deep connection. To some extent, this is true everywhere. The whole world seems to fall asleep under the blanket of snow. Plants recede back into the ground, trees stand leafless and slumbering till spring, animals hibernate. Nights are longer. But the local folklore intensifies this, as Mortanne presides over Winter and the Beyond.

As the tales go, the Beyond is the realm of souls, the place where the essence of a person goes when it separates from their body. And while this primarily refers to death, it can also refer to the half-step between living and dying--- the unconscious mind. Sleep, and moreover, dreaming. And thus, winter and dreams have always been kindred spirits. Connected through their ties to Mother Mortanne and to a hushed and sleeping world.

Perhaps it is for this reason that when you go to sleep on the night of January 19th, 16:55, it is a deeper, more consuming sleep than you’ve ever felt. One that swallows you whole, dragging you down, and down, and down, into a sunken place that is deeper and more terrifying than dreams.

By the time you think to feel afraid, it is already too late to jolt yourself awake.

LULLABY

Beautiful Dreamer, Wake Unto Me

You wake. Or do you? It feels a bit like waking, and yet, it does not. It is similar enough to waking that one might believe it to be so. You feel ground beneath your feet, or perhaps a bed beneath your back. Or something. You feel… something. It isn’t like waking. But it’s a little bit like waking. Perhaps it is not. But perhaps it is as close as you are able to get. Let’s try this again.

You “wake.” Your mind solidifies and reality defines its shape around you. Your eyes focus and you become aware. What are you aware of?

Whatever it is, it isn’t good. Perhaps it seems good at first, but it is not. Wherever you are, only horrors await you here, pulled straight from your own mind. Or the minds of others.

Move. You must move. The dream is a landscape. You must traverse nightmares to escape. Seek other dreamers, and flee. To the center, to safety in false daydreams. To the underground, where the Necropolis will conceal you. To the edges, where you can feel your consciousness break free of this sunken sleep and return to the world of hard objects and light. But you cannot stay here. Gods help you if you stay here.

[ Your nightmare can look however you desire. Laws of reality and physics do not apply. Fuse them, reshape them, choose your flavor. Be liberal with content warnings and respect sensitive content guidelines, but otherwise, there are no rules. ]

Starlight and Dewdrops are Waiting For Thee

If you reach the center of the dreamscape (or perhaps you “woke up” there), you will find an oasis. You find yourself immediately embraced by a beautiful dream. All of your wishes granted, your deepest desires pulled directly from the core of your soul and brought to life before you in vivid detail.

What sort of dream do you find yourself in? What do you dream of? Is it success, love, peace? A life that never came to pass? For your troubles never to have occurred? Do you dream of fame or glory? No matter how beautiful or extravagant, no matter how simple or selfish, the things you desire most are yours.

You cannot escape from here. This is the center, as far away from the waking world as you can go. But the dream entreats you, as do the illusory figures within it. ”Stay,” they croon. ”There is nothing for you beyond here. Only nightmares, only terror. You are safe here. You are loved and wanted and happy here. Why would you ever want to leave?”

Time blends together. It often does, in dreaming, but this feels different. How long have you been here? Do you remember what you were doing before? How you got here? Have you ever even been to a town called Pumpkin Hollow? You can hardly remember.

Maybe that was the dream, and this is your reality. Even as the edges of it bleed together with that of your neighbor, even as fleeting memories come back to you, even as a little voice deep within you screams at you to wake up--- you have no reason to doubt the legitimacy of this place. Here you are happy and safe. Here you are everything you ever wanted to be, living the life you always wanted. Here there are no debts, no suffering, and you shall never die.

You belong here. Surely.

Sounds of the Rude World Heard in the Day

With how far you had to sink into unconsciousness to be here, it’s hard to believe one could go any deeper. But the Beyond is a many-layered place, and perhaps by descending a bit further, a bit deeper, a bit closer to death, you can find another place. Maybe you have a connection to death that brought you here. Perhaps you find your way by mistake. Either way, you may find yourself on a more peaceful journey through the Beyond through the Frozen Necropolis.

A seemingly endless maze of stone walls, mismatched in their depth as if they were patchworked together over centuries. Mausoleums, slotted tightly against one another. Covered marble passageways. Stone statues and carved reliefs depicting gargoyles, knights, Virtues, mages with skull motifs--- necromancers, perhaps? Banshees and dullahans, elves and humans and dwarves and orcs and fae folk of all sorts. All of these things line a network of cobblestone pathways lined with powder snow drifts and crunchy brown grass. Names are carved into the arches above mausoleum doors. Some are familiar, some are not. Fairbanks, Gladwyn, Dirthariel, Leeds, Larson, Endrin, Applegate, Brenning. Above you, white pillar candles float magically overhead, burning bright, lighting your way through the dark pink sunset sky.

In the distance, you see the achingly thin spires of the Winter Cathedral. An austere grey monolith with ornate carvings of horses and snowflake-shaped stained glass windows. Perhaps you will find some solace there. Otherwise, make your way to the river. A familiar ferryman awaits you--- though returning to reality this way will have a small consequence.

[ Encountering Mortanne here is possible, though her threads will be heavily restricted. You can do a thread here with someone else, though! It’s fine to be here without encountering her. Returning to the island by ferry will cause your physical body to die in the process, leaving you a ghost for the usual amount of time. You can also return to the nightmare and get out through the edge. ]

Lulled by the Moonlight, Have All Passed Away

Should you find the edge of the nightmare, you will be able to push yourself through the iridescent membrane at the edge of consciousness. You float through the seemingly endless darkness for a moment, then another, then a third, senses dull and drifting drunkenly, until suddenly---

Like breaching the surface of water, you return to the solid, bright sharpness of reality. Actual reality, firm and true. You are where you went to sleep the night before, though some time has passed. It might take you a bit to figure out exactly how much, though…

Those who escape the nightmare will find themselves home sometime between 1/20 and 1/30. Those who stay in the dream oasis will be comatose until the dream ends, and will not wake until 2/8. They will find the return to reality deeply unpleasant. What are you willing to endure to keep dreaming a while more?

Comments

[misbegottendreamer]

“Have you? Curious. You must have quite a story to tell.”

[imjustaman]

"It is," Sephiroth agreed. "Not terribly pleasant, though.... Most of those times were while I was out of my mind."

[misbegottendreamer]

“There are many and more stories from those under the Fourth Corner’s influence. Those stories are not without their share of wisdom. Though I understand if you are not willing to share.”

[imjustaman]

Sephiroth nods. "Most of them involve cruel manipulations of anyone around me, from the one who defeated me several times to an avatar of mine." He sighs. "The one who defeated me ... Cloud ... I hated him at first, and yet I loved him. He bore strong feelings for me as well ... hate, of course.... We have a mental bond that's hard to describe, but I felt that as long as he remembered me, I could always use that bond to come back."

[misbegottendreamer]

“I see. In that way you were something like a spirit then, bound to a mortal with whom you shared a connection.”

[imjustaman]

"Yes, exactly. I was often dead when I tried to use that bond." He sighs. "I haven't tried to use it since getting my mind back, of course.... I'm sure he will never want to hear from me again. The kindest thing I can do is to always stay away."

[misbegottendreamer]

“‘I will not weep for what I have lost, when I spring forth anew with the coming dawn.’”

She nods, approvingly.

“The Ashlander womer know what many do not, that the way is forward and turning back to grasp for our past stunts our growth towards the future. Of course, that is not the same thing as letting oneself have roots.”

[imjustaman]

Sephiroth ponders that. It's a nice sentiment, although he does sorrow for what he has lost.

He nods. "I can't deny I wish I could see him again. But I will never try to force that on him."

[misbegottendreamer]

“We endure the long nights for the promise of the beauty of dawn. Perhaps fate and time will bring your paths to cross again, in a fashion that brings something new.”

[imjustaman]

"Perhaps. It's a comforting thought," Sephiroth says. "Although I hope not to see him here. I don't want him to be at death's door."

[misbegottendreamer]

“There may be other ways for your paths to cross. Or perhaps you might see him in dreams.”

[imjustaman]

"I dream of him often. I wonder what he would think of meeting for real on a dreamscape such as this."

Questions he may never know the answer to. But he will think about it regardless.

[misbegottendreamer]

"Do you know if he had any musing on dreams, stories, or legends, this muthsera Cloud?"

[imjustaman]

"I don't believe he did," Sephiroth says. "I feel like he would be highly confused and surprised by a place such as this. But I also believe he would adapt quickly."

[misbegottendreamer]

"While we travel... do you think you would be willing to share any particular stories you might have about him?"

[imjustaman]

"Hm. Most of the stories I have about him are sad or even tragic, which is mostly my fault. But perhaps I can think of something."

Sephiroth ponders as they walk. "I first met him when he was a teenager. He wanted to get into the elite military unit I was in, but he was unable to qualify. He became a military guard. I saw him from time to time, but we weren't really close. He idolized me and had wanted to become like me. In the end, he proved himself better than me when he defeated me multiple times in my insanity."

[misbegottendreamer]

"What drove him towards his aspirations? Do you know?"

[imjustaman]

"He told me once that he was trying to impress a girl he liked," Sephiroth says. "But as we talked, I had the feeling that the girl cared about him as he was and he was really trying to impress her father, who didn't like him."

[misbegottendreamer]

"Ah, I am well-aware of such situations. I chose to forego a relationship with a mer I felt drawn to out of respect for my parents' work, and I am still conflicted about it to this day."

[imjustaman]

"I am sorry you felt the need to do that. It is ... painful to have to deny oneself a relationship so longed for."

[misbegottendreamer]

"Life is full of painful things. Our backs break and our joints ache. That does not make these things unnecessary. Sometimes it's what's required for our labors to bear fruit."

[imjustaman]

"I suppose. Someone told me we wouldn't even know what happiness is if we didn't have pain as well. Ironically, later on he was unable to deal with his own pain." Sephiroth sighs.

[misbegottendreamer]

"It is the nature of men and mer to lecture about what we believe we know best about. I am, certainly, not immune to this urge. But I agree. Happiness might exist without pain, but I do not think we would know it in the same way. The ground would still be the ground, without mountains and valleys, but our journeys and our paintings and our horizons would be very different."

[imjustaman]

Sephiroth nods. "Yes, that is a good analogy. Although on the other hand, if the pain has been too great, I wonder if it is even possible to fully enjoy happiness."

He would always have that weight on him of what he had done. No matter how happy he possibly could be, could he ever really move on from that?

[misbegottendreamer]

“I cannot know the extent of another’s pain. I only know my own, and I know that it has never been enough to make joy unattainable.”