Dreamwalking [open to multiple]

[brink]

Topher is dreamwalking. It's a trick he picked up when he came through the rift in San Francisco, and he's gotten quite good at it since then. He's not quite able to pick a specific dreamer's mind yet, but he's learnt how to visit only those who've been significantly affected by the rift, either by coming through it, or being changed by it.

He jumps from one mind to another, looking for rifties he hasn't met, at least not in dreams. These days he barely sleeps at all without jumping from mind to mind, perhaps because he's lonely. Christmas hadn't exactly helped.

Some people will barely notice he's there, but there are those who do, who recognise him as an outside element rather than a figment of their own mind. Having a certain amount of control over his avatar while in dreams, he chooses to appear as a hooded ranger, straight out of a fantasy novel. Mostly because he thinks it looks badass, and stops him from being recognised easily.

[OOC: Anyone feel free to make a thread with their character asleep and dreaming, and suddenly having Topher appear in their head. Whether they'll be lucid or not, or what they're dreaming about, is up to you.]

Comments

[fucking_ebay]

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." It's become a sort of mantra as Peter dodges through the dark, earthy maze that was a house when he first dreamed it up. He's not lucid enough at the moment to question how he could go hunting a vampire in its lair alone and forget his weapons -- he just knows that here he is, the dank walls closing in and scuttling, hungry things behind and probably ahead, and the way back up into the sunlight has disappeared. He wills himself to go faster, but it's like running through molasses.

He turns a corner, and BAM -- there in front of him is a hooded figure. With a gasp of dread, Peter turns tail and darts down another branching corridor, feeling the floor slope downward under his feet, but helpless to turn back and go another way.

[brink]

Topher recognises immediately that he's stepped into a nightmare. He feels the adreanaline rush, the terror pressing in from all sides, and he has to take a moment to make sure it doesn't affect him.

Then the dreamer comes running up to him, and Topher doesn't recognise him. Definitely a riftie, he can always tell in dreams, but not one he's met before. Better not let him slip away. He's not going to get any answers while in a nightmare, though.

He concentrates, trying to dispel the horror and the feeling of being hunted. He makes the surroundings shift, to a sunlit and serene wilderness setting, though he lets the dreamer's mind make up the details.

[fucking_ebay]

Good luck dispelling the feeling of being hunted; he feels that way all the damned time.

It's not like emerging from a tunnel into the open world. Peter doesn't find the way out of the maze or come to an opening -- instead, it just shifts around him, grass springing up beneath his feet, walls fading and falling away to be replaced by gently rolling hills in every direction. The grass is vividly green, and though the clouds are sparse enough to let the sun shine through, a fine rain mists down on them. Peter's steps falter and he slows to a confused stop. For all the change in scenery and the effort to dispel his fear, he's still breathing hard (or imagines that he is) as he looks about, as if he expects some monster to still come charging out at him.

[brink]

"Don't be afraid," Topher says from behind the dreamer.

Probably he could do a much better job at not being frightening, but he kind of relishes being a bit impressive and mysterious in the dreaming. He's not so good at it in the real world, but in here it's much easier to control someone's impression of him.

[fucking_ebay]

"Shit!" Peter startles visibly and spins on the spot. For a moment he looks poised to run again as he sees the hooded figure from before -- he certainly stumbles a step or two back -- but it doesn't feel the same now. As bad as it was only moments before, there's little here that's outright threatening.

"Stay back!" he demands.

[brink]

"I do not intend to hurt you," Topher assures him. In fact he looks rather relaxed, neither defensive nor aggressive. He still keeps his face hidden, though.

"May I ask you your name?"

[fucking_ebay]

If Topher knew him, he might note that Peter looks younger and a good bit better groomed than he does in waking life (especially lately). He hasn't thought about what he's wearing, so it's nothing particularly spectacular, but it is all black and flowing.

"Peter," he replies, brow furrowing as he gives Topher a very distrustful look. "What is this?"

[brink]

That's the trouble with the dreaming - you can't always expect people to be recognisable. Topher certainly isn't, not unless he chooses to be. Playing both sides means he's got to be subtle, which is admittedly not his greatest strength.

"Peter, who dreams of vampires, and comes from far away. This isn't your world, but now you're here, where do your loyalties lie?" he asks impressively. He's trying to sound as if he already knows much about him, in order to trick him into speaking plainly. It wasn't exactly hard to feel what was hunting Peter. And the rift thing was a given.

[fucking_ebay]

Peter's really not sure what's going on, but with the adrenaline and the vampires gone, he's starting to get an inkling that things are not what they seem. He'd not really one for lucid dreaming under normal circumstances.

"Who says I have any loyalties?" he scoffs. "And what are you supposed to be, anyway? You're not a vampire."

[has_a_horn]

Gabriel is sitting in an Adirondack chair on the edge of a prehistoric shore, a frosty pina colada in his hand. Behind him, sinking through the back of the chair and resting on the rough ground beyond are two enormous wings that seem to shift in and out of reality.

A second after the tall hooded stranger appears in his dream, the location shifts, wings disappear, and Gabriel sits (drink still in hand) in a booth at the back of a smoky dive bar.

He raises an eyebrow at his intruder. Truth be told, he'd been hoping for something like this when he'd gone to sleep. There's more than one way of gleaning information in a new location, after all. "Get lost on the way to the Renn Faire, Aragorn?"

Guess who's finally back online

[brink]

Topher thinks he gets a glimpse of something, for just a second after he arrives. It's gone too quickly for him to appreciate it, but he can feel the change. An intentional one at that. It puts him on his guard immediately.

Being referred to as Aragorn doesn't really help. The newbie seems quite aware of the nature of his surroundings, and of Topher as an outside force, or at least that's the impression Topher is getting.

Might as well be a bit more plain then. The disguise slips away, and Topher appears as he would in the waking world.

"Just exploring," he answers, slipping into the booth. "Sorry to barge in on you unannounced."

haaay welcome back

[has_a_horn]

"No biggie." He shrugs and gestures to his drink. "What's your poison?" He's just going to take a guess and think another pina colada into existence. If whoever this is wants something else, he can change it with his own brainpower. "Not expressly real, of course, but that doesn't mean it doesn't taste fabulous."

He grins, and there's something fake and vaguely threatening about it. "But you know that, right? Smart kid like you." After all, anyone able to traverse dreams...well, doesn't have to be intelligent necessarily, as far as Gabriel is concerned, but it definitely helps.

woop woop!

[brink]

And Topher's just going to change that into a non-alcoholic fruit drink instead. Because it tastes better, and it's not like he's planning on getting drunk anyway, and if he did he wouldn't need fake alcohol to do it.

"I'm not entirely new to the game," he admits, sipping his drink. Nor does this guy seem to be. Perhaps new to this place, but not to these kind of things, obviously. Topher refuses to feel threatened, but he's not really attempting to be intimidating himself either. He doesn't want a fight.

[has_a_horn]

Gabriel doesn't make a habit of jumping into other people's brains, but it's not entirely a foreign concept for him. On his home turf, though, his own dream-scape, he's definitely on secure footing.

That this kid dropped his costume is a good indicator for Gabriel that he has an inkling of what he's dealing with, but a little bit of intimidation doesn't hurt. He's not looking for a fight, either, but there's a certain amount of posturing that seems necessary when someone just traipses their way into his brain without permission. "Do you usually jump into people's heads looking like a leftover from the Dark Ages? Because, lemme tell ya, the dark ages were a big ol' bore the first time around. I'd rather stick to the present."

[brink]

Topher is being hyper-aware of any sort of sign of tricks or attempts to trap him here. And sign of trouble, and he's gone. He had a fight with a telepath once, and it was not pleasant. He'd rather not repeat it.

Gabriel is showing a bit of his hand, though. Dark Ages, huh? Well then.

"It's convenient when visiting mundane brains. They assume I'm something they've seen in a film or whatever," he answers with a shrug. He's clearly not in a mundane brain now, though. "Aragorn was actually kind of the inspiration."

[has_a_horn]

That gets a more genuine smile out of Gabriel. Recently, the success of his pop culture references have been pretty hit and miss, and it's nice to not have to explain. "Nice power fantasy you've got there."

"This one's the real deal, then? Don't you think anybody dreams about..." He swishes his finger in the general direction of Topher's face. "The scruffy geek thing?" He lets his head tilt to the side, appraising the face across the table in a way that's half lecherous and half incredulous. You can never be sure. If the kid can manage one imposing costume, who's to say the less imposing figure isn't a fabrication as well? Not that he minds terribly, but it's good to know what you're dealing with.

[brink]

Hey, you know, if he can pretend to be Aragorn, why not? Well, there's others he'd probably rather be, but that outfit had the advantage of keeping his face hidden.

"I'm not scruffy," he answers straightening up, a tiny bit affronted. He's clean shaven and everything. Okay his hair is messy, but it's supposed to be like this.

"This is the default. Honestly, I could make myself look like GLaDOS if I really want to, but this is simpler," he answers. As long as he's paying attention to what he looks like, it's not that difficult, otherwise it switches to default in his head. Default doesn't necessarily mean his real world appearance, though. ...Except, you know, it does in this case, more or less.

[wildmage_daine]

Daine and the Long Lake Pack are hunting.

Who they're hunting, and why, is a bit less certain. Sometimes it's Lady Yolane, as it was in Dunlath. Sometimes it's Kitten or Numair whose scent fills her nose, and she runs faster, desperate to find them. Sometimes it's Emperor Ozorne, not yet a stormwing and reeking with fear.

And suddenly, there's a two-legger who has no smell at all. She can't see his face, but she can tell he's staring at her. She's not frightened--not exactly--because she feels safe with the Pack, but she's not happy that someone is interfering with the hunt. Daine stops in her tracks and snarls at him.

[brink]

Topher yelps and does a little flail-jump when he appears right next to a hostile-seeming wolf. It takes him a couple moments to remember it can't actually harm him.

"Jeez, don't scare me like that," he says before really thinking about it.

And then he notices that this wolf is the Dreamer. Well, that's special. Animals can't generally enter the Dreaming - or if they can, Topher isn't likely to jump into their mind. Clearly there's a higher level of sentience here.

"Um. Hello," he says tentatively. He's forgotten about his mysterious demeanor and everything. He still looks pretty mysterious, but he's not acting the part.

[wildmage_daine]

He doesn't seem all that threatening, but he's still in the way. Daine's snarl shifts into something less ferocious and more annoyed. Don't interfere with the hunt! In reality, she wouldn't attempt to talk to a two-legger if she was in an animal shape, but in the dream, it seems like a natural thing to do.

[brink]

Right, wolves. Of course they're hunting. He considers his options, but she doesn't seem too keen on talking to him. But maaaaybe...

Where Topher stood a moment ago, there's now a similar looking wolf. The good thing about the Dreaming is that he doesn't really need to know what wolves work like to be able to take the form one of. Just point and think. Though it takes a certain amount of concentration to appear as something that comes so unnaturally to him, something so different to his mental image of himself.

'What are you hunting?' he asks, the same way she had spoken to him.

[wildmage_daine]

She's not as surprised by his shape-shifting as she should be, but his question troubles her. What are they hunting? She sniffs the air for a familiar scent, but all she can smell is the Pack and the cold--snow and pine. Like--she sniffs again--like the mountains around Snowsdale.

And then she remembers what they're after. Bandits. With a furious snarl, she takes off into the trees.

[brink]

Bandits. Okay then. Topher runs after her easily, the experience coming naturally mostly because it comes so naturally to Daine.

'Who are you?' he asks, which is the most pressing question at the moment. Along with WHAT THE HELL. But he's fairly sure most of his current questions can't be easily answered by her, at least not at the moment.

[wildmage_daine]

Daine glances at him, a little baffled by the question. There are more important things going on. Daine, she replies before returning her focus to the hunt.

But she doesn't have the bandits' scent. They have to get it, first. She doesn't want to--doesn't want to go where she has to go--but she has to, because they'll get away, else, and that can't happen. She won't let them get away with tearing her life apart.

The scenery shifts, and she finds herself on a familiar path. Her hackles rise, and she whines at the thought of what she'll find at the end of it, but she continues forward.

[brink]

Daine. Okay. That'll make her slightly easier to track down in the waking world, at least if she's been picked up by Romac, and perhaps even if she hasn't.

He continues following her, noting the scenery change, and noting her anxiety at it. He can feel her emotions pressing in around him, if he pays attention to it.

He decides to save his questions for later, and just go along for the ride, see where they turn out. And if it turns to a nightmare, perhaps he can swing it back in a less upsetting direction.