Encampment Under the Sea [Open to All]

[applesaucemod]

Since the dreamers of Manhattan had such a lovely time at the last vaguely-nautical-themed party, the Rift has decided to step things up a notch. Tonight, the dreamers will find themselves in what appears to be a city very much like the one they inhabit in the waking world, full of towering skyscrapers, neon signs, and heavy traffic. But there is one rather crucial difference: this city is located deep underwater, and the aforementioned traffic is mostly whales and fish, with the occasional submersible thrown into the mix.

The walls and windows are heavily reinforced to withstand the pressure of the water outside, and the people who dwell in these buildings seem to be doing rather well for themselves, for the most part. Buildings are connected by enclosed walkways, so barring any horrible accidents, the dreamers should have no problem getting around without getting too wet.

Much like the city they inhabit in the waking world, some areas are more obviously affluent than others, and the dreamers are as likely to stumble upon an upscale club as an underwater pub. But while the chances of a full structural breakdown are slim, there are definitely some areas that are on the leaky side, and a general sense of claustrophobia pervades the city wherever you might find yourself.

Explore. Or, if you're feeling particularly ambitious, attempt to escape. Either way, take care - it's hard to say what might be lurking in the darkness just beyond the city lights.



[ooc: Y'all know the drill. All characters are welcome, whether they are in the game or not. Characters can remember or forget the events of the dreaming at the player's discretion. And the party never stops - backtag into infinity!]

Comments

[bibliophale]

[[ooc: I'm nerfing Az's powers just cause I feel like it. Other angels are under no obligation to follow my example. The Rift just has it in for him!]]

He's wet.

Ugh, what is this? He's up to his literal knees in water. He's dreaming again, the Rift keeps making him dream when he doesn't even like to SLEEP - and with the way these dreams usually go, it's a wonder Crowley even enjoys the activity. He once slept through an entire century, a stunt which Aziraphale found both ludicrous and infuriating.

A little glance around tells him he's not just in water but under it. In a room, sort of, a cramped little chamber that doesn't contain anything but a pair of intimidatingly secure doors and a lot of water. Windows reveal a whole city out there, lit up starkly at the bottom of the sea - squids, whales, schools of fish floating by like it's just another reef. The room seems to be part of the city - a between two other places, and it's leaking. This is not a good thing.

Aziraphale would like out. He slogs through the wet toward one of the doors and waves a hand at it. In an afterthought, he waves his hand over himself, to keep the water from actually soaking through his trousers and shoes.

It takes him a moment to realize it hasn't worked. The door hasn't budged, and he's still as wet as ever. He blinks down at himself, at his murky reflection in the dirty gray water, and waves a hand again, impatiently. Still nothing. Still wet, and getting wetter. Cold, too. Blast. He decides the door is a bigger problem, and focuses all his attention on miracling the big thing open. It's not working. He tries to transport himself past it, even wake himself up. Nothing is working.

It's all right. He does not panic. Angels do not panic.

He gives a put-upon sigh and attempts to open the door the old fashioned way. A severe amount of grunting, pushing and pulling later, he is no closer to getting out of this horrid little bog of a room. And he is beginning to worry.

Finally, belatedly, after trying every trick in the door-opening book (including but not limited to an exasperated "mellon" and a slightly more hopeful "open sesame"), Aziraphale notices the little control panel just beside the door. Oh. That's probably the switch, isn't it. Sheepishly, glad no one was there to see, he the button a little prod, and voila - there's a squelching sound and a puff of air as the door unseals itself and swings heavily open. Water spills into the next room as Aziraphale steps through, only enough to moisten the carpeting - the door seals itself shut again behind him all on its own. Aziraphale stands there dripping, taking in the new, much more welcoming premises (some sort of fancy dining club?) with a bewildered frown.

[endless_epithumia]

There are definitely parts of this city that have more of a claustrophobic air than others, which engenders a subtle, savory type of desperation from anyone trapped in, say, one of the exterior tunnels. Desire finds themself drawn to one in particular, and sits in an armchair staring at the rusty door in expectation. There's someone on the other side of the hatch, someone ~intriguing~, as far as Desire can tell. They get a sense of otherworldliness, some supernatural being who is so very, very frustrated.

Desire smirks when the door finally opens, letting in a sodden and sheepish...angel? Oh that's very interesting indeed. They get up from the chair, affecting an expression of gentle concern.

"Are you quite all right?" they ask softly. "This seems like a rather unpleasant dream, wouldn't you say?"

[wildmage_daine]

Well, this is different. Odds bobs, whose idea was it to build this place? Seems like an accident waiting to happen, especially in the area she's found herself in. There are a few inches of water in the bottom of this strange tunnel, so rather than stand in it, she's taken raccoon shape - small enough to perch on a thick pipe that runs along the length of the tunnel like a handrail - and has her little paws pressed to the damp, cold glass.

There are whales out there. Should she call to them? It's been quite some time since she's spoken to a whale, and it's not as if she'd be asking them to do anything. But perhaps they're all too busy to chat.

[personalhouseplant]

Breathtaking, if he had breath to give. Not unlike other of the myriad fantastic places he's visited, but in some ways unique, under so much beautiful water, lit with so many lights, impossibly (or seeming impossible) - and so terran. 'Human', even, all of them like Peter. Humans are marvelous creatures. Indomitable, also like Peter.

However marvelous it is also lonely; none of his friends are here, he does not in fact recall how he came here. Most he encounters only return his attempts at communication with raised eyebrows or smart remarks, and some even flee him on sight. How he misses Rocket. Without him there is no one to talk to, and no one to fix the situation of being lost, as well as alone.

He rambles, moving slowly through the corridors, having bend through them, studying the little water creatures that swirl by outside. Perhaps it is a dream. An unusual dream, seeming so real, but it would be better to a dream than the unthinkable reality of being truly lost and alone.

And then, so suddenly: Rocket!

"I am Groot!" he cries happily, reaching out a hand to his friend, who will hear Rocket! You are here, too; I am so glad to see you.

[etherthief]

Iman doesn't remember how she got behind this bar, but whoooooo caaaares. No bartender to tell her off, so she doesn't mind mixing a few drinks for some fancy-dressed NPCs civilians of whatever the hell this place is. Underwater city, looks like? North Atlantic, they tell her when she asks, but nothing more helpful than that. Well okay then. Did she somehow cross the barrier out of the Rift universe and into this one? That wasn't very responsible of her. But what a crazy cool universe. There's a little bit of mad scientist in Iman that would fucking love to live in an underwater city.

She's drinking about half the drinks she's made, and taking every order and making them more interesting, so she's having a great time.

[eliotwaugh]

Well this is a damn sight nicer than the last dream, and Eliot is making the most of it. There's dancing, there's good food, and this time he's wearing something that doesn't need to be taken out back and burned shot. And oh look, a bar!

Eliot saunters up and sits on a stool, taking in the sight of all the glorious fancy bottles. "So!" he says brightly, catching the bartender's attention, "What's good around here?"

[watchesthebeans]

Where's the food? All Aglet can find are these enormous bottles he has no hope of being able to open. He's seen this stuff before and he knows beans drink it, but it's nothing he ever had access to when he was growing up.

And then the bottle next to him suddenly lifts up into the air and away, leaving Aglet exposed to view in a room that's a lot bigger than he was hoping it was. He freezes like he's hoping the bean just won't notice, and then conflicting instincts kick in and he tries darting for cover instead.

[has_a_horn]

Gabriel appears a little ways off, but the noise in this room draws him in. There are plenty of people, but so far, the only one that's real is the one standing behind the bar. That's promising, anyway. He could use a drink- even an imaginary one.

He casts a suspicious glance up at the ceiling at it groans, then walks over and settles his elbows on the bar, trying to get an idea of what it's stocked with. "Find anything good?"

[rae_of_sun]

Oh gods what even is this. Yuck. Mega-yuck.

Sunshine stands in some kind of lobby, and it's pretty flash stark if you don't look out the windows. It's all rich carpeting and marble paneling and brass fixtures - fancy enough that she feels weird just standing there, like she's taken a hell of a wrong turn at Schenectedy or something. She wouldn't even cater in a place like this.

Except none of that is half as uncomfortable as the she-doesn't-even-want-to-know-how-many tons of water pressing up against the aforementioned windows. It's all at the bottom of the goddamn ocean; there are fish swimming by. And when she looks up, she can't even see a trace of sunlight.

Well, this is pretty much the worst. Throw in a handful of her universe's vampires - gods, they'd love it down here - and it'd be the cherry on top of this shit sundae.

[personalhouseplant]

He has been wandering for such a long, unmarkable swath of time, difficult to say how long really; strangely he cannot remember what he did before this, or how long he has been down here, or - has he met anyone? Memory fails him continuously; and there is such water but all of it dirty, or trapped outside. No light but those flickering gloomily overhead. He is beginning to feel homesick, restless, brittle, and thirsty.

He rumbles into a new place, and there is a terran there, who looks every bit as unhappy. The poor thing. Missing conversation, although he knows this terran will not understand him, he says glumly You look how I feel. My name is Groot; what is yours? "I am Groot."

[peacefulexplorer]

Daniel doesn't have to be claustrophobic to find this place creepy. Too dank, too cold, too wet, too eerily silent save for the distant drip of water. The walls are cylindrical, the ceiling just a foot higher off the ground than he is, the floors lapping with water that's a good six inches deep. The whole place looks to be of subterranean construction, very far beneath the ground if the water streaking the curved walls is any indication. Ordinarily, Daniel would be fascinated to study this sort of thing, to marvel at what natural circumstances would inspire the creation of a room of this shape and are those walls made of metal and what kind of metal and how was this place built and who built it and how long ago, but the atmosphere of the whole place is so thoroughly unnerving that he can't really focus on any of that. It's like a pipe - huge and poorly lit and stretching so far that he can't see more than the puddled darkness beyond a few feet in either direction.

Yeah. Daniel doesn't like it here.

He whips around, stiffening, as he notices that oh good there are noises here too, ominous splashes of someone, something (he severs that thought mercilessly) approaching. Approaching him.

[wildmage_daine]

Definitely time to head for drier ground, Daine decides. Presuming she can find any. She's beginning to think she's picked the wrong direction, though, as the standing water along the bottom of the tunnel is only getting deeper. She's upped her shape in kind so she can wade instead of just slogging through the stuff. Staying on four legs seems best, though - gives her more space between her head and the low ceilings. Makes her feel a bit less caged.

She hasn't seen any other people down here, so it doesn't occur to her to worry about frightening folk. Which is why, when she rounds a bend in the tunnel and sees some two-legger up ahead, she's in the not-very-human-friendly shape of a Siberian tiger.

Oh. She pulls up short and pricks her ears forward. She doesn't know this fellow. Sorry! she calls. Wrong turn, I think. Aaaand she's just going to start backing up a bit so he doesn't think she's inclined to attack him or anything.

[johnny_truant]

Johnny has been wandering in the same general area for what feels like fucking hours and he still can't figure a way out. It's not even that big of an area. One white hallway circling some darkened and mostly flooded rooms, fluorescents hanging from the ceilings - not going in those places. He's found two doors, which look weirdly like hatches for a submarine or some shit. One of the door controls is busted and the other seems to only accept a specific numeric code, which he hasn't yet cracked, though he has sure goddamn tried between bouts of circling around and around, looking for an option he's missed. This is fucking balls. The hell kind of dream is this? No windows, even, no sense of outside. For all he knows this could be all there is to it. Another goddamn night spent trapped indoors. At least it's par for the course.

He studies the big central room, which is filled with water about waist-deep, and has occasional sparks showering down from one of the precariously dangling light fixtures. Ugh. There might be something in there he could use to pry a door open, but he's not exactly in any hurry to add "electrocution" to his already illustrious list of dream deaths. Fuck's sake.

Also, there might be something moving in there. He keeps following a particular ripple in the water, that looks like it's going against the general movement, or it could be a trick of the light? It's so dim in there, the only light coming from these dim wall fixtures and the occasional misting sparks, it's hard to tell what he's looking at.

Maybe he should just wade in. He could either stand here dumbly forever until he wakes up, or wade in. And possibly die. At least it would be a quick death? He can't fucking BELIEVE he's reached a point where he's thinking things like that.

Sighing heavily, he braces himself and steps gingerly into the water, onto what is apparently a short staircase down. He lowers himself in like one might into a pool, his jeans immediately soaked through, weighing him down, and fuck it is cold and gross but at least he's still alive? As long as he steers clear of that one light, he should be okay.

He sloshes around for a bit, tripping over things, at one point banging his hip on a desk. He gropes around for a while, feeling a slow, sick dread building in his gut, like any moment now, something bad is going to happen - when suddenly, his hands discover another desk, and on it - is that a crowbar?

He lifts it up. It's a wrench. A really big scary looking wrench, with... is that blood? just gonna pretend that's not blood... crusted on the edge of it. Not a crowbar, but it'll do.

He turns, and is about to pick his way back to the entrance, when he feels something brush against his leg.

He freezes. Oh fuck. Oh fuuuuck. It's a fucking eel, or sea snake, or something. For a moment he just stands there paralyzed, holding the wrench aloft like a goddamn idiot, not knowing what to do.

[peacefulexplorer]

It's dark and wet and slow-moving and there's something pinning him down and Daniel can't breathe.

Oh god. He's going to drown. He's going to die drowning and there's not even a light at the end of this oh-so-gloomy dark tunnel. There's something heavy trapping his legs, holding him down laterally, and he can't breathe. He's going to die. Again.

Wait, hold on. Movement. Movement. Movement movement movement just move towards the movement move towards it keep going almost got it come on -

Daniel grabs at it. It feels not-very sturdy, perhaps a loose pipe, but it provides enough leverage for him to thrash out from beneath whatever nebulous debris is holding him down, thank god, he's finally free, and he bursts out of the water with a choking, sputtering, relieved gasp. Alive.

It's approximately at that moment that he realizes he's not holding onto a pipe at all. It's a leg. It's a leg and its owner is holding a massive, bloody wrench aimed directly at him.

As far as first impressions go, this isn't one of his finest.

[walkersystem]

Molly's definitely never seen anything like this before. She grabs the straps of her backpack tighter just in case anything might happen - not that there's anything too valuable there, but maybe it's a subconscious wish on her part to have something to hold onto.

She's alone, and there's water everywhere.

Or okay, she's not completely alone, and there's water on the other side of the glass, but that doesn't really change the situation that much. Not when you compare it to what it was before she opened her eyes, anyway. There are people around her but none that she knows and she watches them as they walk by her, feeling uncertain but not scared, not yet.

The walkway between buildings where she found herself has benches lined up so you can sit and watch the things swimming outside. She doesn't really want to get close enough to do that because one of the windows is leaking slowly and ominously and everything is kind of dark this deep down, but after a moment she sits down not too far from the bench, takes off her backpack, and opens it.

She just needs to look at where she is and then find her way out.

[wildmage_daine]

This is a far less ominous part of the city than where Daine came from, though that really isn't saying much. It's brighter, though, and there are benches, and though one of the windows is looking a bit leaky, the floor is mostly dry. All things considered, this is much better.

At the moment, she's kneeling on one of the benches with one hand on the glass and a distant look in her eyes. If she wasn't so focused, she'd probably have noticed the young girl sitting down not too far away, but this is only a dream, and she's not too fussed about the thought of an audience. What she's really paying attention to are the voices of the whales out there.

She calls out to them, hesitantly, because despite this being a dream, she can't shake that deeply-ingrained awareness that animals are busy and you shouldn't waste their time. But it seems there's a young humpback as curious about her as she is about him. After a minute, a large shape appears out of the gloom. It's headed straight for the little tunnel, and Daine hastily reminds him that it's fragile (or fragile to a whale). There's no need, though; the whale turns aside with graceful ease and blinks at her through the thick glass. His voice makes the whole tunnel hum, and Daine grins.

Hullo to you, too, she thinks.

[endless_epithumia]

Well, this is interesting. Desire often likes to peek at the edges of their brother's domain, whether it's out of boredom or part of a scheme, or simply because mortals are so lovely with the way they want things more acutely when consciousness isn't in the way to stifle them.

But this is something else, something...odd. This is the Dreaming, yes, but maybe not the one they know. This place feels contained, a snow-globe world full of some very peculiar dreamers. So Desire takes a closer look, and they find themself in some grand Art Deco Atlantis--what astounding hubris on the part of whoever dreamed this city in the first place. Desire smiles and begins to stroll lazily down a hallway, searching out dreamers. They're going to like it here.

[anguiform]

Well, this is just right out of a sci-fi B movie, Crowley thinks, as he wanders out of what had seemed to be a sort of office building only with both slightly more gilt and slightly more pipework around the walls than he'd consider entirely normal into... what? A corridor, he supposes, like a skyway between buildings, only with a great arching perspex roof overhead, and, he'd wager, the same underneath. Like a giant cyberpunk hamster run. Underwater.

Because yeah, he is definitely underwater. And that is definitely a giant bowhead whale serenely making its way across the metropolis like a weirdly sentient zeppelin.

Because no-one is around to see, Crowley grins. Ridiculous, yeah, but more fucking like it. Not like the last dream. And, on that thought, he conducts a cursory assessment of his own mental and physical state, just in case. No... hormones or humanity or whatever it was that had infected them all in that last dream, good. That affirmed, he banishes those particular memories to the back of his head where he'd tucked them ever since waking up the morning after that particular night.

There is something he can sense, though, some presence outside himself. Definitely occult, and that's worth investigating, though he's in no great hurry about it. So he meanders in the general direction of whatever, whoever it is, frowning around him with interest as he goes.

[aly_brighteyes]

"What realm is this?" Aly breathes, sitting on the ground and staring up into the water. It's a wonder, beautiful but not soothing in the least. No, this feels tight and frightenin.

Ever more, Aly is aware and sharp.

[heysoulsister]

Aiden hates it here. It's not surprising; he's never been able to do water, and now it's all over the place, impeding his movements, keeping him trapped in the same cramped tunnels that Jodie's wandering. Add to that the fact that he can't even lash out in frustration without potentially bringing all that water down on their variably corporeal heads, and you get one supremely pissed off entity.

"Just settle," Jodie hisses irritably as she edges around yet another off-putting puddle. How structurally sound is this place, anyway? Christ. "If you want to do something so badly, scout ahead."

Normally a task like that would calm him down by one or two begrudging degrees, but not this time. Spying a crowbar - and without bothering to consider what in the hell a crowbar is doing just lying around - Aiden lashes out viciously, sending the tool clanging down the corridor and through a T-shaped intersection. If he'd known there was another person just around that corner, he might not have been so reckless.

But he doesn't know that he just sent a crowbar clattering past anyone, and neither does Jodie. "Nice," the woman says scornfully, not really attempting to keep her voice down.

[suisen]

There's a young, slip of a witch out exploring. Hana Sterling glances around the strange, dreamy city. Everywhere she goes, she can feel the vibrations of the ocean. It's beautiful and oppressive and she finds herself turning to her own powers, summoning up a sense of calm to blanket herself.

oh man your character profile, yes yes 1000x yes

[apidae]

Bee is not sure how she feels about this particular dream. There are things about it that are beautiful; things about it that are terrifying. For the first time in a long time, being barefoot feels a little scary. So much of this place is flooded, and so much is dirty and broken and rusting. It's just a dream, she tells herself. She keeps moving through the passages, nervous, trying to find someone, anyone.

Oh - at last! She feels better at once, not being alone here. It's not someone she knows, but that's all right. She looks a little lost, or maybe just wandering. She's very pretty.

"Hi!" she calls, approaching with care. It's an easy place for someone to be startled. She wishes she could sense patterns - it's so difficult to get used to, not being able to feel people properly in dreams. "My name's Bee. What's yours?"

[fucking_ebay]

Peter squints at the list of stops posted in the subway car as it rattles along through the darkness. Why doesn't he recognize any of these names? He doesn't know where he's supposed to be going or how he's going to get there when he's never heard of any of the options currently available to him, and the train smells unpleasantly like mildew. All told, it's making him a bit edgy.

And then the lights go out. There are groans from most of the people on the train, including Peter, as it slows and stops in such pitch black darkness he can't even make out the woman sitting across from him. "Fuck," says Peter decisively, unaware of the water starting to trickle through the tunnel outside.

[apidae]

Oh no, oh no. This is not where she wants to be, not even a little. How did she get here?

The lights have gone out and the people don't feel safe and there's water coming in, no, no, no, she needs to get out of here right away.

She moves through the car blindly, groping her way past all the dream-figments, scary blanks of people, even with her ability dulled she can tell they're not real.

And then she trips over someone's foot, barely catching herself on the floor of the car. "Ah!" she gasps. "Sorry, sorry, I-" Her voice is trembling a little. She doesn't like not being able to see, or feel anyone, or being so afraid.

But she's just tripped over someone real. She doesn't know who, and that scares her even more.

[bluesuit_handy]

Just look at all these big, shiny buttons. Andrew grins as he runs a hand over the control panel, a devilish look in his eye. Thanks to a careless technician leaving the door unlocked, honestly failing to deadlock seal the door against meta-crises bearing sonic screwdrivers, Andrew holds the power. He alone dictates what electric signals are sent out to the hidden machinery of the city, and he answers to no one.

And that's why the public address system suddenly begins to play glorious music. Andrew's little booth isn't especially secure (the door is locked, but the door is also flimsy), but it's a phone call that comes first. Andrew flips the handset to his ear. "Hello, caller number one, you're on the air!"

[frank_doyle]

This is an EMERGENCY. The music is befitting such a dramatic situation, in fact. It was all he could do to grab at a phone and let it ring to wherever it was meant to go. A radio programme, apparently, and a soothingly familiar voice on the other end, but not the voice he wants to hear.

"HELLO," he says, full of aural hand-wringing. "IS THAT BARTY? I CAN'T FIND MY WIFE!"

[antitimelord]

Well, it could be worse. It could be so much worse. Zagreus' typical take on the Dreaming has been getting more and more sub-oceanic, but this is taking things to the next level. Of course, the general air of activity, of considerable more direction and intent than he's ever managed to impart upon the dreamscape, that's a clear giveaway that this is yet another collective dream. Still, the claustrophobic darkness and pressure and generalised damp aren't wholly unwelcome. It could be so very much worse.

Zagreus stands in front of a monstrously thick window, studying the ocean view on the other side, trying to shake the feeling that something ought to be tapping the glass. Isn't this cozy.

[johnny_truant]

He knew there was a reason this felt familiar.

Shit. Shit, shit. He must have taken a wrong turn. It's been a while since he's had to deal with that asshole - if it is him, and not the Doctor, but Johnny's pretty sure by now he can tell - and he'd almost gotten complacent.

We've been here before, haven't we? Just backtrack, nice and easy. It's not like the time with the boats, he can be quiet, and relatively fast.

And then he staggers right through a puddle of water. Come the fuck on.

[watchesthebeans]

Aglet's not sure where he is, but the space is reassuringly dark and cramped. He's betting a wall or underneath a floor, since the hollow space is long and narrow and he keeps having to duck around joists, flickering candle stub in hand. What's not reassuring is the dampness; he's never been in a space like this that's been so wet and he really doesn't think he likes it. It makes everything feel dirty and mildewy.

It also makes some spots prone to structural weakness. Aglet isn't paying as close of mind to his footing as he really should in unfamiliar territory, so he doesn't notice the rotten wood under him until he steps on a very thin patch with a crack in it and falls right through. His yelp is cut short when he lands on something -- no, he realizes as he grabs onto hair, fabric, whatever he can, he's landed on someone.

[omnomnom_feels]

He is not awake. Rashad is much quicker to figure that out this time, his mind better able to process the incongruity of the ROMAC-sponsored apartment in which he pretends to sleep versus this vast underwater city. He did not intend to fall asleep or to dream tonight, but neither did he have specific intentions to do anything else. Being here is not particularly inconvenient at this time, though the rift's ability to bring him into these dreams against his will warrants careful thought about how he might curb its power over him in the future.

He stands in an underwater walkway between buildings, gazing at the sea life swimming past and lazily feeling around himself for other dreamers. He does not dream by himself, so he is not surprised to find faint threads of emotion in the currents of the dream. Feeling someone draw nearer, he turns to watch for them.

[bibliophale]

Aziraphale stops short as soon as he feels the other presence, though he's already in Rashad's sightline, too late to turn back now.

"Oh," he says, letting the fullness of his distaste seep through. "It's you."

Can't catch a break in this dream, can he? Not to mention he's powerless for some reason. But perhaps Rashad won't notice that.

TW: imprisonment and injury and drowning, oh my!

[powerdealer]

This dream starts like most of Seth's dreams these days. Locked in a room with only claustrophobia and something whispering behind his shoulder for company. This one has a bit of a twist, though. The thing that makes him jerk awake where he'd been asleep on his bed is... water.

He hastily sits up and looks around. A dark small cell with a heavy iron door, filled about knee-height with water, just reaching the point where it's trickling into his bed and soaking his blankets and his clothes. He shivers involuntarily and looks up, where there's a grate in the ceiling, with water quite steadily pouring in. Shit.

He plunges his feet into the chilly water, standing up and heading towards the door, avoiding the shower in the middle of the room. He desperately hopes the door isn't locked, because this is not a place he wants to stay. Something tells him that it will be, though. It almost always is.

When he reaches it though, he realises there's a bolt on his side of the door. Well, that's unusal. So, not a cell? Whatever, he can figure that out later. The water's not rising dramatically fast, but it's already soaked through his bed. The bolt is a hard to push, but he finally manages it.

He doesn't time to open the door himself, as it swings open on its own accord, pushed open by the water on the other side, a flood wave attacking him and knocking him off his feet, bringing him right across the room and slamming him into the wall. Stars dance in front of his eyes as the pain runs through him, blossoming from his shoulder. He almost passes out right then and there, and doesn't really have time to worry about whether it's broken or just dislocated, because now the entire room is filled with water, he's not sure which way is up, and he can't fucking swim even if he had two working arms.

He kicks and flails in panic, and thank fucking God, he surfaces after a few seconds, gasping for breath. There's less than a foot that's not filled with water, and the water is still pouring in through the ceiling. Perhaps there's more air in the other room, but he can barely flail-swim well enough to keep himself afloat, and there's nothing but darkness through the door.

Barely managing to get himself to the only source of light, streaming in from the room above, he grips one-handed at the grate and tries to shake it, push it open, but it won't budge. He swears to himself and keeps trying, but there's nothing to push against and if he tries to move his left arm he feels like he's going to be sick. Fuck, he's going to drown, isn't he?

No, wait. There's something up there, a splashing not caused by the stream filling the room - which now barely has enough space for him to breathe in, face pressed up against the grating.

"Help! Somebody! Fucking.. Help!" He practically screams it, his voice breaking, no other emotion left in him but panic.

tw: drowning/claustrophobia (same as above, basically)

[peacefulexplorer]

The sound of running water is distant, drumming, filling every inch of this place. It's like the building's been submerged, water mercilessly seething in through every crack and door and opening and it's only a matter of time before the room Daniel's in now is completely underwater.

He needs to move. Preferably now.

Only the place is winding, the walls are gray, the walls are black, the walls are wet, the walls don't end, they just keep stretching onward, he turns a corner and there are walls and labyrinthine corridors, right-angled and cold gray and uncompromising, and he keeps turning and the water is coming, it is ankle deep, he slogs through it regardless, it is knee-deep and he keeps going, it is waist-deep and he keeps going, it is reaching his chest, he will die here, and then he finds a stairwell and a hatch and it goes up, up, up where there is hopefully no water, not yet, where he can delay the inevitable, and he rushes at it and he struggles with it and it is taking too long he is going to drown.

Until it opens, blessedly, blissfully, and he scrambles up before the floor below fills, and then it hits him that he can hear screaming.

Someone else is here. In this building. Drowning.

He tears after the sound immediately, but it's hard to track because the noise is rebounding off the endless walls and the water distorts everything, even sound waves, but it finally occurs to Daniel that it is coming from beneath him and he looks down and -

"Oh my god, Seth."

Shit, shit, shit, he drops to his knees and tries unsuccessfully to wrest up the grate as Seth struggles with it, he's screaming and gasping and the water is coming, it will soon fill the room, and Daniel is not going to let him drown.

He can't muscle the grate open, not on his own. Immediately he sits back and his eyes dart around the room until he locates a crowbar thank god; he seizes it and pries at the grate, only Seth isn't screaming anymore because he can't because the room has filled with water.

Daniel jabs the crowbar into the edge of the grate, pushes, presses, adrenaline giving his muscles the extra pull they need, and -

- Seth is not going to drown here -

- and the grate comes up with a rusted, resisting squeal. Daniel thrusts his hand down to wrap underneath Seth's shoulder and tug him up, out of the room, please.

[wentdowntogeorgia]

Lucifer knows a dream when he's standing in the middle of one; he's walked through plenty before, after all. It's a little irritating that it's his own, somehow, because he is an angel and he does not need to sleep, nor have the capacity to dream, but here he is. It's just one more thing in a long list of things that he will, when he is able, take recompense for out of someone's flesh. Or something's. And if they don't have flesh, he'll take from the equivalent.

Though the amount of space in the rooms and halls is technically sufficient for humans, there is something about it that's oppressive and reminds him of cages. It isn't just the weight of trillions upon trillions of liters of water bearing down on the structure; it's something else, something in the architecture itself. He does not like it.

But, for now and for lack of anything better to do, he walks.

[bibliophale]

Aziraphale is starting to get really uneasy, being here. On the whole he's met too many creatures he's not comfortable being around, and seen too many dream-figments wandering, hollow shells meant to look human, it's unnerving. Apart from his senses, he can't seem to do anything he should be able to do - can't even sense for very long distances, and therefore can't find Crowley, if he is here. Bugger all this for a game of sodding soldiers, he thinks bitterly.

And then, as if this weren't already the worst dream on record, he feels Lucifer around the corner.

He goes abruptly still, his blood chilling as he eyes the bend of the corridor. Can Lucifer sense him? Shouldn't be able to do any proper damage in a dream, but that is not exactly a theory Aziraphale is keen to test. Maybe he can just... slip away. Unnoticed. Like a thief in the night. Perish that thought. Perish all thoughts. Just... back carefully away, and find someone else. Anyone.

testing, testing

[james_t]

Wherever he is, it's dark and unpleasant. His boots push though what must be an inch or two of water, and he feels along the wall as he goes.

"Lights." No luck. "Computer, lights," he tries louder, but he has the feeling that he's not anywhere aboard the Enterprise. This place seems to have more in common with a 19th century sewer system than a starship. The walls, as he moves his hands along them, seem to be covered in a fine layer of mildew.

He gropes his way halfway across the room before he finds a hatch of some kind. It has a large wheel in place of a handle. A ship, maybe, but not a starship. The door doesn't budge easily, but once he throws his weight into it, the wheel turns and he can finally pull open the door.

He squints against the harsh fluorescent lighting in the next room. He can see someone up ahead. That's the best news he's had since he got here.

"Hello! I'm afraid I'm..." He lifts his foot to step into the room, observing sourly the water dripping out of the side of his boot. "...a little lost."

[johnny_truant]

Johnny turns sharply, edgy, in no mood to be fucking jumped by anyone else tonight.

"Yeah, get in..." He stops short. "...line."

Holy fuck. Holy fuck. Is that... that... it can't be.

No, it definitely is. Holy shit.

"Captain Kirk?!" he says, halfway between complete incredulity and seriously embarrassing nerdy fuckin excitement. He takes a step forward, shoes squelching wetly on the metal floor. "You're Captain Kirk!"

[theoldgirl]

The TARDIS hasn't had much time or interest for the telepathic current lately; there have been too many concerns on the waking plane, too much time spent having to keep a close eye on the Doctor and trying to do the same with Gabriel, especially since Lucifer's arrival. But the Doctor is asleep for once and Manhattan is too cramped, too linear, her blindness to the timelines oppressive and claustrophobic, itching and chafing and making her tense like ropes tying her down.

But the murmurs and entanglements of other minds have always been at least a small remedy for that, so she flows through the current until she's drawn in by a nice big joining of minds and dives right in. She manifests in a gallery overlooking an opulent and rather gloomy ballroom of sorts. The light coming in through the domed ceiling is oddly murky, there's something that looks to be seaweed winding down along the tall columns and the carpet beneath her shoes squelches a little bit, but the TARDIS isn't really bothered by that. With a mental shrug, she changes her dress to something that matches the scenery and then sets off to find company. If she'd wanted to be alone in her mind, she could have stayed at home, after all.

[whofrownedthisface]

Bitey, damp, cold, that's not what sleep's supposed to be like, nor should there be so much ocean overhead, generally speaking. Though, it does explain the ruffly sleeved nightgown quite nicely--a brief mental effort, and his proper clothes are retrieved. What good is meditation on the roof of the TARDIS if you don't bother to learn lucid dreaming as well? Nobody saw that.

And this is certainly a dream, though it looks a lot like someone else's lucidity. The eyebrows descend like a medieval portcullis. Can't a man frown his own face and dream his own dreams anymore? For that matter, can't adventures and explorations be kept to the expanse of the waking world? The Doctor sets out to explore this dream, already intrigued underneath all the disgruntlement.

[theoldgirl]

During her wanderings, the TARDIS has ended up in the lobby of something that looks like a large indoors amusement park of some kind. It's full of dream-families coming and going, security guards and attendants keeping everyone moving, and there's loud cheerful music coming from the speakers in the ceilings, but she doesn't pay that any mind.

She comes to stand in front of a map of the place, wondering if there is candy inside. And if there's candy, there might be Gabriel. But while she's still musing on this, she suddenly feels the brush of something intensely familiar and she turns around, almost startled, to scan the crowd for a real mind.