It seems that everyone has their own inexplicable fear to have nightmares about

[damien-dw.livejournal.com]

Saturday, 20 September
The Dreamlands



Close my eyes and find myself in a dream.  I'm standing at one end of of a vast hall, lined with mirrors.  Step forwards only to be pulled up short by something tightening about my chest and pulling me backwards. Look down and find a thorny vine wrapped about my chest, its end somewhere behind me. I decide that I don't want there to be any thorns digging into me and they all fall to the ground. That feels better. Pull the vines off as if they're a shirt I have decided not to wear and catch a glimpse of movement in the nearest mirror.

It's my reflection and yet it isn't. At least I hope it isn't. My lower face all bumpy with scars, the mouth twisted into a horrible shape. More burns all down my chest and arms, the hands become ruined skeletal claws.  No! That is not me! I will not let it be me. Not here. Here, in my dream, I do not have to put up with it. I toss the handful of vines at the mirror and watch it break into countless pieces. Each one showing me that face, those arms.

The wind comes and sweeps them into a pile which I then cover with  a blanket. Turn away and cover all the mirrors with curtains. Is this an ordinary bad dream or did that bastard get away from us after all? Start  searching the place and eventually decide that he's not here. I would feel him if he were. He's not. I can dimly feel Nanshe but it's not like she's here either. It's more like she's just walked out of the room but I can still smell her perfume.

Feel a bit ridiculous standing in a dark corner of my own dream. blushing and feeling guilty that I didn't get a chance to say a proper goodbye to her before she... did whatever it was that means she's no longer the Lady of Dreams. It felt strange to open my eyes and find the sense of her all around but invisible and oddly not specific. It was as if somehow she was everywhere. And then I woke up completely and it was gone. She was gone. I will miss her. She was the first person I met to truly walk in other people's dreams.

The shadows are getting thicker and some of them are...monstrous. I push them back with my will but it is hard, much harder than it should be. Is there a part of me that wants this? Wants them to reach out and pull me down into the  deep dark pile of them? The thought bothers me. A lot.

I check myself in the mirror and see only my own face looking out from under a thick velvet cloak. Pull the hood off, let it hang down my back. Time to go walking in dreams. I can't- not can't, I could stay here, I  just don't want to. The waking side of town is a mess. Maybe someone should check on how things are in dreams.


[Open] [Closed]

Comments

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

I don't even cared to know who filled all the pipes of the building with wine, but it reeked. Took emptying the water on the roof to run everything clean again, and hope we get more rain soon.

Then there was getting the dirt out of my home. Came back to find what used be a grave being on my bed, and take it for having been my grave; found my daughter there and she'd left off being a plant, which is maybe more relief than I'd care to share with anyone. But it was still a bloody great load of dirt, and some slow cleaning with gashed hands.

've had worse.

Lie down a little, when she's napping and there's nothing left to clean for the moment, and think on state of the streets (can't bloody abide the mess, but only so fast you can mend things), and come out to find Excolo night-lit and misted, and the streets quiet and still enough. Can see folk moving in the shadows back behind the buildings, though, if not the details of their faces.

[damien-dw.livejournal.com]

Dreams are naturally on the chaotic side so I suppose it shouldn't surprise me to find that for the most part things seem to be remarkably normal, or what passes for normal, here in the dreamlands. Don't know what I expected to find. Great gaping holes between dreams maybe, or endless rain in all dreams as a show of how much Nanshe meant.

Instead all I get is the usual sorts of dreams, and a growing unease because of a sense of being followed but every time I turn to look there's nothing there. Just my shadow, which while it looks a bit odd, is still clearly mine. The worst part is that this continues no matter which dream I visit. I pause for a long moment under a streetlamp on the corner of two streets that could be Silk and Main, and might just as easily not be as well, to try using my improved sense for dreams to pin down who or what is following me.

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

Set aside staring to details of those as're further off a moment as Damien stands mournful under one of the streetlights, picked out clear and bright. No wings this time; well enough.

"What're you after out here?" mild enough and my teeth quiet in my mouth as I'm taking myself up and over to stones of Silk, where they meet asphalt of Main. It's tidier than I last saw it by day, at least.

[damien-dw.livejournal.com]

Still can't find whoever or whatever it is, just that maddening sense that they are there and close to me. Nearly jump out my skin when Glass asks her question though. She's standing right there in the street ahead of me. And I didn't see her arrive.

It's really her though. At least the new version of my dreamsense is good enough for that. Even if it can't tell me shit about where this stalker thing is.

"Glass! Uh, hi." I shove my hands into the pockets of my cloak only to find it's transformed into a long trenchcoat type thing. "I was looking for something..." I continue, made more nervous under her eyes than I already was.

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

"Mhm." Well, why else'd one be out at this hour, quiet as the streets are? Shrug easy enough and settle back against the window of the Apothecary. "Come for the air, myself. You find it?" Look a little closer at him, weighed down in something black and itching.

"The hell're you wearing, Damien?"

[damien-dw.livejournal.com]

Shake my head, about to say something like no but it's somewhere near here.

Then she adds The hell're you wearing, Damien?

I look down at myself to find that my coat is darker and heavier than ever and seems to go all the way to ground and is sorta pooling there like a shadow. Soon as I notice that, the rest of the coat slides off me into the pool which then gains a face. A face I recognize. My boss. But not quite, his eyes are flat and cold and his expression is very distant. I step back from the shadow pool as the figure with Dorian's face begins to rise out of it.

"Oh!"

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

See him stand up, and there's a thin moment where I think I'm going to smile, and then I catch the look on his face and recall--

And all the glass in the Apothecary shatters, blows up and out in a drifting glitter to hang in the air above the street, leaving the air bright as if it were stuffed with snow. There's a cracking pain across my back, and I remember how this went last time.

"We need to leave now," I say, brittle and bright, grabbing for Damien's shoulder. Oh, Damien works for Dorian, these days, doesn't he? Oscar all over again, a little older maybe but no real difference as I think'd matter. Call me fair to sure that makes it all bloody worse, and what was I doing at the Apothecary's, anyway? I've not been here in so long. "Right bloody now."

[damien-dw.livejournal.com]

I barely have time to realize things are going wrong when the glass behind her shatters into a glittering haze surrounding us, I can see a dark arm move forwards and Glass flinching back as if struck.

Then she's reaching for my shoulder, telling me we need to leave. Right now. So I take hold of her by the shoulders and unfurl my wings to push us up into the sky.

Then safely out of its reach I can finally think and realize what my dreamsense has been trying to tell me. That this isn't Dorian. It's a dream thing, a nightmare, like the water-girls. And second, that this is the thing that was following me. Like a shadow. Which means it will keep coming after us. Unless I stop it.

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

Never particular minded heights. Mind, those were always heights I'd gotten myself up and could speak to how solid they were and how best to get down. My shoulders aren't hurting, leastways, which is to the good.

"What're you taking me for doing if something comes at you?" Or when, I suppose, as Dorian's looking bloody foul-minded and not loosing track of either of us in the least. Wave over to the Abbey, solid stone and tall enough and close at hand asides; it's high enough, here and now, and confess I prefer the idea of standing to that of being dropped.

[damien-dw.livejournal.com]

What're you taking me for doing if something comes at you? Glass asks me. Which is very reasonable thing to ask, as I didn't take any thought to anything beyond must get both of us away.

"Uh, something sensible?" I'm already looking for somewhere to set us down as I catch her waving at the abbey roof which is plenty close enough and maybe the tallest building in town.

Spare a glance down on our way over to check on the nightmare. It's keeping up with us no trouble. Glad to see it's still on the ground. (for the moment}

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

"Uh, something sensible?" and I laugh a little as he sets us down on the roof. It's taller and wider than I recall, and there's more stone, but call that all only a matter of having more place to set foot.

"'ll try'n manage that," I say as we set down. "Who the bloody hell is it after us? Not taking it quite for being Dorian."

[damien-dw.livejournal.com]

Her laugh as we set down on the roof is welcome, makes me feel a little better about this situation as does her assertion that she will try to manage it. I fold my wings a little but not all the way. I might need them again.

Of course then I get all tense when she asks who the nightmare is, because she too can tell that it's not Dorian.

Lick my lips before answering, "You're right in that that thing isn't Dorian. S'what I was looking for earlier. It's a nightmare. Not as bad as Icelus, but not friendly either."

Look down again and find the thing grinning up at me. I can see flames in its eyes. Flames that are nowhere else.

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

"You're right in that that thing isn't Dorian. S'what I was looking for earlier. It's a nightmare. Not as bad as Icelus, but not friendly either."

Murmur acknowledgment, considering it as it comes our way. Wretched bloody thing. "It's its own thing, then, but not someone dreaming..." If it was... "Can you wake it up?"

[damien-dw.livejournal.com]

Rather glad to have the excuse of answering her question, those eyes were making me remember how I felt right after the battle, when everything hurt, before I knew how much or little damage had been done to me.

"I don't know. If something's made out of dreamtstuff, like this is, I think it's already awake." And with the gate closed it wouldn't have any way to leave the dreamlands.

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

Well enough, so there's the next question as coming to mind; "Why don't you wake up? Mean, it came along with you; you were near as wearing it. Maybe you'll spit it up again, next you sleep, but that's your own business, isn't it?"

[damien-dw.livejournal.com]

Can feel my face burn with embarrassment at that reasonable sounding suggestion. Why didn't I think of that? Because I didn't. It never occurred to me to just leave the dreamlands. To go somewhere it couldn't follow me.

Then I start to wonder whether in fact things would work as Glass suggests or if maybe having found someone to bother it would stay here in Glass's dreambubble waiting for her to come back. I can't take that chance, I decide. I brought this thing here, either I take it with me or I destroy it.

But Glass is waiting for my answer, I have to tell her something. Straighten my shoulders and give her a faint grin. "What, and leave you here with my nightmare? On the other hand, if you decide to wake up that would likely slow it down considerably."

Not sure what that would do to me if I'm still standing here when she does it. I've always run off whenever I saw the signs that a dreamer was waking up.

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

"What, and leave you here with my nightmare? On the other hand, if you decide to wake up that would likely slow it down considerably."

"Why'd it stay here once you wake if it's your nightmare?" curious now. "'sides, I've dealt with worse'n him, in places they could actually do me harm." Mean, it's a nightmare. They happen; I'm not after dying over a bad dream.

Look down over the edge and the thing's looking up, smirking a little. The smirk's wrong; Dorian does it with more care for what others think. "Anyways, I'm not one as can only decide to wake up. Why'd it slow down if I left?"

[damien-dw.livejournal.com]

Frown as Glass asks why the nightmare might choose to stay with her and I can tell she doesn't see it as any sort of real danger. How do I make it clear to her that this isn't an ordinary nightmare?

Run one hand through my hair as I try to think how to explain how this dream stuff works to Glass."This isn't an ordinary nightmare. This one's got awareness." (please Glass, don't ask how I know this.) "And in dreams, awareness is power. The more aware you are the more power you have. And thus if I leave but you don't, it would be able to hurt you." ( if I'm gone it probably will. and that would be my fault! for bringing it here.)

I'm glad she's not looking at me while I'm talking about this as it was hard enough to find these words without her looking at me while I say them. At least now that I've started my explanation her next question is a little easier to answer.

"Because it would suddenly have nowhere to stand or be. Sort of like yanking the rug out from under someone. Except that the rug in question is this entire place." Wave my hands around to show I mean the entire dream, streets, buildings and sky.

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

"You're not particular less aware'n me," though think sometimes there's less matter of thinking things through, "and you play games in dreams more'n I do. Wouldn't you leaving take the rug out from under it too, and may be the floor as well?" I shrug a little. "And then if it comes to its feet afore I wake up it hurts me, and then I wake up--"

Stop and look at him, weighing what he said earlier, and smile a little crooked. "So just being here, you're stopping it from hurting me? Whyn't you do something, instead of only being, and go kill it?"

[damien-dw.livejournal.com]

That wasn't what I meant! I meant that that because it's her dream we're all standing in, that if she left the whole place would disappear! I open my mouth to tell her so but then stop. Maybe now's not the best time to confess that I just walked uninvited into her dream, nightmare hunting or no. Right now she's being friendly even if she's still asking questions that sometimes make me a little uncomfortable.

She's looking at me again and I'm glad I didn't say anything earlier because I don't think she'd be smiling now though I guess she might still be telling me to go kill my nightmare. Though she might tell me to do it somewhere else. Or say something even sharper.

So I smile back and dip my head the way I've seen deputy Hollow do a couple times, "Yes Ma'am. I'll go kill that nightmare right away."

Then I take a deep breath. Because, all joking aside, I am kind of nervous about getting into a fight with it. I don't think it's as powerful as Icelus, but I don't want to find out the hard way that he has a brother or something.

Take a step and find I'm at the edge of the roof looking down at my personal nightmare. Who smirks up at me and bursts into flames. And stands there still smirking up at me. Come on down and kill me then, Master! it calls up to me. 'Less you'd like me to come to you?

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

Opens his mouth and decides that whatever was going to come out is something he'd rather not set breath behind, which leaves me looking at him curious. "Yes Ma'am. I'll go kill that nightmare right away."

And I'm left blinking as he draws himself up and looks down, and look down as well to the light scratching up like a flaring match, and well, that's after leaving a scorch on the ground and walls. "Leave me know if you're after a hand with that," I say to Damien, considering the bloody thing. "Mean, far as it goes, my not being as you are and all-- wait, Master?"

[damien-dw.livejournal.com]

It would probably take too long to explain about how will is the next most important thing in the dreamlands after being aware that one is dreaming in the first place; and thus she should have less problems than most coming up with the ability to do something helpful.

But there isn't really time for that right now. Know that I'm standing there staring at it in shock at what it just said. What the hell? Why did it call me that? And of course Glass would notice and pick that bit to focus on.

Lick my lips and try to make my voice seem firm and commanding as I call down, "Put that fire out, right now!"

Don't think I ought to take my eyes off it until it does what I say but I can't help sneaking a quick sideways glance at Glass. Though my eyes snap back quick enough at its ugly choking laugh.

Yes, Master. Right away, Master. Damn, are those flames actually rising higher up the side of the building or does it just seem like it? Doesn't matter. What does, is that I gave it an order and it didn't obey. Oh and that it's having fun scaring me with its fire.

Next thought come while I'm staring at those flames, I don;t have to let it do this. Don't have to let those flames keep burning. I have awareness and will. So I can decide to stop the fire myself. It'll be hard but probably not as hard as trying to change night for day. Probably.

[damien-dw.livejournal.com]

Bastard is climbing the wall, I'm pushing those flames hard as I can to make them go out and I think they might be getting smaller. But the nightmare just keeps grinning up at me with his burned off face and he reaches up the wall towards me with his long bony burning arms.

And fear spikes through me.

I don't want him to get any nearer to me. And especially don't want him to touch me and burn me again when I don't have the anger that made me not care when it was Icelus doing the burning.

Not sure which one of us is more surprised when the nightmare suddenly loses his grip and falls all the rather long way to the ground. The fear is gone and I suddenly feel like I've just downed two espressos in a row.

"Now who's the Master?!"

My personal nightmare then staggers up to its feet and gives me a ragged salute. Ready for round two?

Round two? I can feel a bit of the fear from earlier trickling back in, and a little of the extra energy fades away. I remember how I shattered the not me in the mirror and tell myself that this is just like that. Only I can't just will it to explode. Or melt. Or burn up into ash. Or any other fatal thing I could wish on it. Fine. So maybe I'll have to kill it later or something. Say, back when we're in my dream. Where maybe I can make it tell me why it calls me Master.

Take a deep breath and conjure a big box around the nightmare and then shrink it down till I can fit it in one hand. Should probably have tried to rip it to pieces or something to kill it. But stuff like that (like ripping out hearts and eating them or smashing them to pieces) comes easier when I'm in the middle of things or full of fear. I can't just decide to do it.

The box is just sitting there on the ground; it looks like one of those decorative jewelry boxes with the fancy pattern on the lid. And a very obvious keyhole on a fancy metal plate on the front. Can feel the weight of the key in my pocket as I jump down off the roof to pick it up.

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

"No, really, Master?" I say, raising an eyebrow and leaning back against the wall, feet on the scorched ground. "Pardon my guessing that whatever you'n Dorian're doing at the shop, it doesn't call for anyone tossing 'round that word." Shrug a little, considering him.

"So why were you looking for that thing, and why'd you miss you were wearing it?"

[damien-dw.livejournal.com]

The box feels oddly warm to the touch for something made of metal and there is a sense of something just waiting for the lid to be opened. Feel my fingers tighten round it as Glass asks me again about why he was calling me master. I can feel the blush rising to my cheeks as she goes on. I almost don't turn round to face her.

"Definitely not!" Sometimes Dorian has said things that sound like maybe he's flirting to either me or Winnie and he often teases us if he thinks a set of errands took us a bit long to finish but...no. I'd never think of doing something like what almost happened with Wanda...now I can feel my cheeks getting even warmer and I feel really uncomfortable standing here under Glass' eyes.

Makes me almost grateful when she asks more questions, So why were you looking for that thing, and why'd you miss you were wearing it?

"It's good at hiding itself." Lick my lips and pass the box from one hand to the other. "I only started looking for it once I realized I was being followed."

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

"Yes, well enough," I say patient. "Guess that leaves me some curious over how you caught it though may be that's not much different from my having sense for the dead. But why's it after calling you master? Was it yours?"

[damien-dw.livejournal.com]

She's very persistent, with most people if you dodge a question often enough they stop asking it. Or at least wait for another occasion before asking it again. Not Glass.

"I don't know. Probably." The box starts to shake in a rhythm that means that the thing inside is laughing at me. "I mean, I think it started as my personal nightmare. But I don't- this is the first time one of them has followed me into s-into another's dream."

If I am going to question this thing I need to take it back to my dreamspace where I can make it tell me things. Because clearly it knows what's going on and since I clearly don't, that could only end up badly for me.

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

"Mhm," considering the box. Can see well enough reason to want to run off to another's dream if it usually means leaving that unpleasantness behind. Myself, personally, I couldn't stand my own home and always had to be over at another's, I'd move, but it's a long low misery when the problem's something you're all tangled up with, and imagine it's only harder when it's something you spat up in your own mind. "You some mind for what changed of late, then?"

[damien-dw.livejournal.com]

Breathe a little easier once I realize she isn't going to give me hell for coming here or bringing that thing here. She's looking at the box which went silent just as she asked her next question.

A whole bunch of things run through my mind but I don't think that most of them could have anything to do with this. Most things that happen to people get reflected in their dreamscapes and stay there. But then I remember my earlier thought that the dreamlands seemed remarkably unchanged by Nanshe's leaving. And what about the other really big event? What about Icelus' death?

Wasn't my reason for my walking through various dreams to make sure that things were in fact ok? And here I find that nightmares are behaving differently. That can't be just a coincidence. Look down at the suspiciously quiet box. "Icelus died. And Nanshe...left us."

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

"Well enough," I say patient, "but as you're neither of them, was looking more to what changed with you, that has your nightmares up and acting of their own selves and following you 'round into other folk's dreams." Consider that a moment. "Is it like that they're only following you, d'you think? 'r are some of your nightmares off bothering others, someplace you've not been of late?"

[damien-dw.livejournal.com]

Oh. "My ability to know stuff about the dreams I'm in is stronger. And it wasn't as hard to affect things as it usually is."

Except maybe in my own dream when I didn't want the nightmare to be there. And most of what I've done in Glass' dream was done with her permission. She told me to deal with it.

Her second question brings with it a terrifying possibility. "I don't know."

But I suddenly need to find out.

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

"Well enough," I say. "So, if it's easier t'change things, can you make your own nightmare say why it's calling you Master?" And then rather sudden he's looking like he's just found a knife sticking half-out of his stomach, and's wondering when the pain's going to hit. "Oh, what crossed your mind, then?"

[damien-dw.livejournal.com]

Those are both big questions. I probably can make it talk and maybe have some hope that it will tell me what I want to know and not just what I want to hear.

When she asks her second question I am rather impatient. I really do need to find out what became of all those little bits of mirror that I left back in my dreamspace. I need to make sure that the images reflected by them are still there.

"That I might have made a terrible mistake earlier this evening. Would you mind terribly if I went off to see if I did in fact make one?"

More laughter from the boxed nightmare. I glare at the box in my hand, silently demanding that its prisoner explain itself. Specifically on the matter of why it calls me master.

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

"Would you mind terribly if I went off to see if I did in fact make one?" and well, yes, but that's hardly the matter under question of note.

"Mind it more than if you stayed to explain," I say, waving one hand, "but you seem like you'd take ill to that. Go on, then; best luck to you."

[damien-dw.livejournal.com]

Blink at her answer and thank her, but the thing in the box has other ideas and of course it picks now to speak up like it knows that I would very much rather not let Glass overhear.

Yes, Master. I hear and obey! I call you that because you are. The Lord of Nightmares is my Master and since you ate the heart of he who was our Lord, you have replaced him.

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

"Oh, well, that's straightforward enough," I say. "If it's telling truth. Bloody hell, was everyone in that after eating hearts with that thing around?" Sniff in disgust and look Damien over.

"Well, as you don't seem to have a leash on them, what're you after doing? Not seeing many choices, myself."

[damien-dw.livejournal.com]

Have to smile at bit at Glass' reaction to hearing what it says. I'm still a bit shocked and maybe a bit nauseous too. I didn't want to be Lord of Nightmares. And I really don't like the idea of having enough of him inside of me to give me his powers. What if that starts to change me? Make me more like him?

Of course that is assuming my personal nightmare is telling us the truth. It could be saying things it knows would upset me. Or trying to plant ideas in my head that will birth new nightmares and maybe one that could bring something like old lord back. Though even that idea still leads to me being his lord for a little while...

Well, as you don't seem to have a leash on them, what're you after doing? Not seeing many choices, myself. She asks.

"Think I need to ask a friend for advice. Some one at the abbey." Nanse-kam might have an answer or two for me. Maybe. "And while I might not have a leash yet for these nightmares maybe I can start giving them orders and summonses or something that will limit them a bit."

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

Abbey's probably a sensible place to start, all told, and I nod to the matter of holding some restraint on the nightmares. "Good if you can manage it," I say, eyeing the box. "Particular if those things're the fault of that terrible mistake you spoke of." Shrug a little. "So, you going to see your friend now, or going to wake up and see catch them that way?" Mean, guessing if whoever Damien cares to talk to is asleep, he needn't wait, and if they're awake, he'll know it for them not being dreaming and can wake up and hie himself over the few moments walk it'll take.

[damien-dw.livejournal.com]

So, you going to see your friend now, or going to wake up and see catch them that way? She asks me, eyeing the the box I've trapped my nightmare in. I shift it to the other hand.

"Yeah. Either way would work. And I should be going now." Do I need to thank her? Or maybe apologize for fucking up her dream. Both probably.

Lick my lips and say, "Sorry for messing up your dream, And thank you for not freaking out about it." That should cover both. I conjure a bag to hold the box and start walking out of this dream. Time to go find Nanse-kam...

[glass-beddau.livejournal.com]

Wave it off as he leaves. Way Damien's carrying on, it's as if he thinks he's been in my home or my mind, rather than only my dream. No mind for what he thinks he messed up or why he thinks I'd consider it of particular import, but it's hardly a matter of the same weight as called Am-mit up.

(Not that she's a freak, mind, but can't expect him to understand that; folk grow unnerved by the teeth, I suppose.)

As he's gone, I suppose there's matter of the scorched ground from his nightmare as needs fixing. Turn my attention to that, and set to mending the Abbey's earth.