[I'm granting Jay immunity from the dream's effects since he's still pretty dead and just floating haplessly around in riftspace, sort of accidentally stumbling into dreams (appropriate icon keywords are appropriate). So if your villain needs a victim or your hero needs a damsel, he's your guy.]
He feels himself getting pulled into a dream again, but this one pulls a lot harder than most. This one is big. For a moment it tries to push him into some ill-fitting slot, it feels like a rippling of static over his skin - clothes and body chemistry shift and blur before there's a metaphysical sort of throwing up hands and saying fuck it, and he lands, Jaylike and normal, on the ground.
He shivers, feeling like he needs a good dirt bath or something after that bizarre sensation, and takes a moment to look around, trying to assess whose dream this is. But it doesn't belong to anyone, that becomes quickly apparent. It's one of the big ones. The group ones.
Shit. Fuck. He has to get out of here. He shuffles along the sidewalk quickly, trying not to look around or make eye contact.
no subject
He feels himself getting pulled into a dream again, but this one pulls a lot harder than most. This one is big. For a moment it tries to push him into some ill-fitting slot, it feels like a rippling of static over his skin - clothes and body chemistry shift and blur before there's a metaphysical sort of throwing up hands and saying fuck it, and he lands, Jaylike and normal, on the ground.
He shivers, feeling like he needs a good dirt bath or something after that bizarre sensation, and takes a moment to look around, trying to assess whose dream this is. But it doesn't belong to anyone, that becomes quickly apparent. It's one of the big ones. The group ones.
Shit. Fuck. He has to get out of here. He shuffles along the sidewalk quickly, trying not to look around or make eye contact.