event pt 2 | another dream

[moustre]

Event Log: June, A Midsummer Dream's Nightmare

THE STARS ABOVE You feel like you're floating. Around you, colors and sounds and smells swirl as if trapped in a whirlpool, vibrancy and hue ever shifting. The more you watch them, the less solid they are; they only become clear out of the corner of your eye. The area around you begins to feel more solid as well, until your feet are on the ground, the wind brushes playfully against your face - and you know one thing, and one thing alone: this is a dream, and an incredibly realistic one at that. It is so very cold, and it is so very vast. Millions of stars stretch out across the still wasteland, the water unforgivably frigid to even those covered in fur; for those without, there's still a chill that expands in your chest as you turn and find absolutely nothing in the massive, shimmering lake. As you begin to walk, shapes shake out of the water; the ground rumbles with their rising, the outlines and shambles of buildings covered in stains and thorny plants. As more rise, inscrutable in their original purpose or shape, you begin to realize this is - or was - a city. You realize something else: you're not alone. Not the way you weren't alone in dreams before, with those who came through the mirror or who might later come through - but around you are the natives of Aefenglom itself, dressed thin rags and looking exceptionally confused. Almost immediately, the sky fills with red stars, and the voice of Nerissa Bell rings throughout the empty space: "Will all members of Parliament, the Guilds, those who have mastered and are mastering divination, and my Mhairi dearest please come to where the red stars fall? Thank the lot of you very much!" There's a beat, and she continues. "Everyone else, keep your wits about you, won't you? Take care of each other." She sounds a tad bit more serious than usual - and it's no wonder, given the circumstances. There's not much else to do though, and with this dream shared among all residents of the city... You might as well take a look around and see if there's anything to be found out, just like any other time. But be careful: Magic seems to be on the fritz, more liable to backfire regardless of one's experience with it - and the same goes for more magical traits of Monsters as well, such as water manipulation, illusions and charms, finding magic, dragon breaths, and etc.

I. THE CITY As you make your way into the city, navigating the wreckage of what once was, it becomes all the more apparent how overtaken it is. To call them ruins would be gracious; you walk in a tomb, now, atmosphere filled with all the gravitas and dread that comes with the stillness of one. And truly, it is still. There doesn't seem to be any other life, besides these new visitors, at least not as you begin to investigate, your companions approaching this with more trepidation. Because while it may take some exploration for arrivals to realize where they are, many natives know right away what this place is with a grief that's palpable: a. IT'S HOME The dawning realization is stark for everyone, as they find familiar cobblestone streets cracked, in disarray, dead and dying grasses and caked "oil" filling the cracks. These streets lead to just as familiar places: a bakery you've grown attached to since you arrived, a store that once carried knickknacks that was passed by every day, the Coven, the Haven itself. Perhaps now it's easier to understand what those inscrutable structures were, at the edges of the recognizable shapes of what had been buildings, once upon a time - after all, even those that are freshly minted as arrivals this Iuneril have spent enough time within the Bright Wall to surely be able to know this gate was once here, and that portion of the wall wrapped around the city there. What remains of the Wall is charred, broken, stained in an oil-like substance that still glistens at just the right angle, and overgrown in those thorny vines to the point that some sections must have been destroyed because the growth came from within. The track of the magitech engine that runs the city is uprooted, gnarled in places as if it were bent by large hands or crushed underfoot, the bridge and the engine itself collapsed into the canal of the River Temese. Even from the higher banks it's easy to tell the metal is rusted and corroded, but also charred like there was an explosion or fire; the inky murk of the river consumes the rest, and it's not recommended to try and brave the waters, given the unsettling feeling they give off. It's not unlike the sensation of the cave... Homes and businesses are destroyed, or in ruin, and it becomes clear that they met this fate in different ways. Burnt down, collapsing in upon themselves from the weight of neglect, overtaken by the thorny vines, covered in the inky black of what is fast becoming obvious as signs of the Cwyld... even the Haven has suffered these conditions. The barracks, once flush against the Wall, are completely destroyed and exist only as rubble now. One might find traces of themselves in what had become their homes in Aefenglom, if they look close enough. The natives certainly are, in their upset and confusion. b. ONLY REFLECTIONS LEFT All roads in Aefenglom lead to the Coven and Parliament, in the end. No walls remain around where the Coven once stood, and there's barely any rubble to indicate that they did. The gate that always stands open, as you know it, is nowhere to be seen - at least, initially. A glance around the entrance will show that it was likely blown off its hinges; it's embedded in the earth a dozen yards away into the city proper, gnarled, a monument in and of itself. Stepping into the scorched courtyard shows that the blast came from within the grounds itself, though it's hard to tell what the source might have been. The building itself is more or less completely caved in; the infirmary is in particularly bad shape, with the stairs leading to the ICU - the basement below the infirmary, where those heavily infected with the Cwyld are taken care of - are full of debris. The floor of the infirmary itself is largely collapsed into the floor below, blocking all means of access. None of the runes that are typically visible in the halls, across the ceiling, or along the floors are activated, and there's a distinct lack of the warm and homey magic that would always welcome one into the Coven. In its place is an oppressive stillness, smears of the Cwyld visible across the ruins, spilling out across the yard from the building itself. A garden once sprawling with ingredients and food is dead, and the stables and livestock pens lie in wreckage. There are no signs of the animals that many became familiar with. But amongst all the wreckage, the Looking-Glass House stands. The cabin is a little charred on the outside, wrapped in layers upon layers of the thorny vines that have woven their way through the city itself, but still intact. Getting inside is a challenge in and of itself, but not impossible, if one manages to avoid the thorns of a clearly infected plant. But the interior? Dusty, certainly, but not an ounce of damage. Mirrors are propped up against surfaces as always, hanging on the walls, and the building feels endless as always. Some of the mirrors are shattered as if something struck them, but not a single piece of glass touches the floor. The stillness is just as unnatural as that of the city itself, but different. While still eerie, there isn't a sense of dread, of oppressiveness, of being watched. It simply... is. c. BURNED AWAY TO ASH Taking the other route leads to what remains of the Parliament building. Much like the Coven, its floors have collapsed into itself - but the building has always been a tall one, so the collapse is even more stark, like all of the top floors fell into the underground records. No signs of the Cwyld are apparent, save for the infected vines sprawling here and there, but they seem more recent than anything else. Wood and stone are charred, to the point that it becomes clear with enough investigation that fire was the sole cause of its demise. The smell of smoke still lingers, with both ground and air around the wreckage feeling hot compared to the chill of the world around you, a fire still burning within the Parliamentary Records themselves. And if one moves the rubble enough - though care should be taken, as it's precarious, and further collapse is inevitable rather than preventable - smoke rises from cracks and openings. Even the clocktower wasn't spared, the broken face now in further wreckage, burnt with its metalwork hands locked to 3:00. The bell is nowhere to be seen; if it fell, it fell through the building and into the records beneath, lost to a fire that's still burning unseen beneath your feet. But if one listens closely, maybe they can still hear its ringing... But it becomes clear you're not truly alone, no matter where you go in the city. Forms pass through out of the corner of one's eye, there and gone when you turn to look too closely at them. Humans and Monsters alike in shape, but faceless, sometimes wisps of color, sometimes shadows in the shape of people. Regardless, they can be seen disappearing around the corner of an alley, walking by the broken window of a storefront that's been ransacked, coming and going when you least expect them. A whisper of a ghost. Some of these faceless shadows seem to be caught in the motions, reliving their day-to-day, the ones that they took the most. Others fade in and out of strange actions; fighting unseen foes, throwing equally unseen things at buildings just as much as what must have been people, running and running through the streets - and then, eventually, through you. Passing through these specters, these shadows of people, leaves a clammy chill on your skin that permeates to the bone. And then they're gone, and it's silent again. Nessie and Mhairi will be around for talk once they're through with the other leaders of the city- but we're only allowing for OOC summaries this time, rather than any IC threads! Their thread is here.

II. THE WASTE Turning from the city, you trek your way further into the waste. Walls continue to rise around you, but none block your path, and they get further and further apart as you continue. The dread within your chest builds the farther you go though, until it's a struggle to lift your feet - but at the same time, some strange momentum keeps your legs moving. The water slowly rises from ankle to knee height, to waist, to mid-chest... or for the small, it might be treading dangerously close to shoulders, to head. Eventually, something changes - whether due to your continued march ahead, or due to turning around to head back towards the city. a. THE STAIRWAY TO THE STARS As you continue on, the water level begins to lower again - or is that due to the stairs that appear without warning beneath your feet? Made of solid white quartz and seeming to float on their own, the air gets colder and harder to breathe as one makes their way upwards. Turning back once you begin isn't possible either: the stairs have disappeared behind you, dropping with a solid splash into the water below. Those able to fly feel an odd pressure that keeps them grounded, and attempts to do so will simply give them the same experience the stairs have: right into the murky sea, which is much deeper beneath the stairs. One good thing about this heavensbound stairway is this: it offers a good view of the waste, which seems to expand forever, as well as the blood red twilight peeking over the horizon - not to mention the distinct absence of the sister moons that share the sky. With a keen eye (or simply letting your vision adjust) shows shadows lifelessly milling about the waste and its air; they're harmless, but bring with them soft crying and pained whimpers, limping with obviously broken limbs. Those familiar with the Wilders and the Witches of the Coven will notice the one solid-seeming thing about them: the pins for their cloaks, the Coven's symbol barely being able to be made out. It'd seem the only way to get down is to fall, as the stairs simply continue up and up into the sky until one is completely unable to breathe or move, either due to gravity or due to ice coverage. b. THE LABYRINTH Attempting to turn around and head back to the city works, but not for long; where walls would stay from one's path, walking back yields the opposite. The walls slowly bunch together until finally, they surround you - with an ugly sound, a low ceiling slides on to complete the area, and without warning sconces light themselves. The water remains knee-deep, sloshing loudly in the utter silence as one moves through it. The labyrinth is long and winding, with some walls broken enough to enable stepping through them, and shadows cast long by the torches lighting the walls. Bones of unlucky explorers roll and rock underfoot, breaking easily with too much pressure. To put it lightly, it isn't a very happy place. The center of the labyrinth is completely dark, no sconces in the area lit - none with torches in them either, on closer inspection. No treasure is left to find here, though the source of the labyrinth's water is: a spring formed by a massive fissure in the ground, ever bubbling, so loud it's a wonder you hadn't heard it anywhere else in the stone maze. The culprit of it lay nearby, long dead: a Minotaur, or its massive skeleton, at the very least. Some of its bones are blackened, specifically its arms up to its elbows, legs up a little past its knees, and its right eye socket. The rest are a mix of normal yellowed and similarly infected grey, black-spotted bones. Touching the bones starts an infection on the character that did it, though it only covers the same spots found on the Minotaur's skeleton.

III. THE DEPTHS Going the way of what had once been the harbor shows an endless sea, nary a wave in sight in the absence of the Sisters. It reflects the red twilight of the sky, each and every of the millions of stars above you, almost glass-like in its stillness. But there's a call that the sea has, and once you've set sights on it, the urge to continue is powerful, hard to resist. Succumbing to that call has characters stepping off what remains of the harbor, walking along the beach, even jumping down, just to reach the water. But rather than sink immediately into it there's firm footing on what seems like ice, the chill seeping through raggedy clothes, skin, fur, feather, down to the very bone. It's sturdy enough to allow even the largest Monster to begin the journey forward into the depths, angled deeper and deeper, until it suddenly drops off and you're submerged without a foothold. It's there that clarity returns, and the fear of drowning might fill every sense. But you can breathe. You can speak. It is a dream, after all. a. THE SHIP GRAVEYARD All around you, at first, is the remains of the harbor. Everything is encased in coral and aquatic plantlife, but there's very little life otherwise. No fish, no dolphins. Nothing. The world is all the more silent beneath the waters, especially with their absence, and the skies above grow dimmer the deeper you go, but always there's the unmistakable red hue to everything below. Some of the plants provide paltry light, bioluminiscent and lighting the way to a grisly scene. Buildings that have fallen into the harbor's waters, the remains of docks, various dinghies and boats, all sunken and lost to the world above. A few ships are visible, their hulls blown out as if attacked, both from the inside and out. There's no treasure, if you're brave enough to explore them, but there is the black oil caked to the interiors just as much as the exteriors. The wood is charred, and it's easy to tell that these ships were sunk from within just as much as they were from outside attacks. But the further one goes into the depths, the truth is revealed: beyond, there lies a ship graveyard. With Litha in full swing, many of these ships may be familiar, having set off on their voyages for the season. Here they lie, in similar states of destruction as the ones in the harbor. Exploring them answers few questions, and raises greater mysteries; what had been supplies, weapons, magic tools and wares, all loaded into their cargo bays, as if they were setting off on a great journey. And it isn't just a graveyard for ships, either. Many of them have passengers, unidentifiable save for small trinkets here and there. The Coven's insignia, a badge of the Parliament, possessions that might speak of their professions. They're nothing but skeletons, now, man and beast alike loaded onto the ships and heading for a destination that's lost to them now. Ice forms along the hulls of some ships and the wreckage beneath, pathways woven throughout the underwater world. They're walkable, allowing characters a choice between swimming, dreamily floating, or walking as they traverse the depths. b. WHAT LIES IN DEPTHS Beyond the graveyard come soft cries, which could almost be mistaken for a whale song if they weren't so... so sad. Following the call, though one won't be compelled to through magical means, reveals the source: various dark shapes in the gloom beneath the water, shadows, listless and drifting. They swim without much purpose, and come in a variety of aquatic shapes. Some could be mistaken for the missing marine life, for Merrow, but their dimly glowing white eyes tells of something worse. There are very few of them, and they don't seem to register the presence of anyone around them. An explanation, perhaps, for their numbers comes as the red of the distant sky above is blocked out by a great shape. A veritable Leviathan drifts with an almost laziness through the open waters of the ocean that you've reached, greater in size than any ship in the graveyard. Its hide is marred from fights long since forgotten, but mottled in oily black, smudged grey, its algae, coral, white cracks in the black illuminating the waters around it. Its plated head moves to and fro, massive flippers disrupting the patterns of the creatures around it without notice.

Welcome to the second part of the event! As a reminder, this takes place on the 22nd - or rather, 3AM on the 23rd if we're being technical and not following the logic of "It's not tomorrow until I sleep". If you have any questions or need any clarifications, you can ask them here! And as always, while we do encourage you to use this log, you can feel free to thread things out on your own log or elsewhere. Regardless of what you choose, we hope you have a good time!

And as a final parting note: If a character dies in the dream, they'll simply reappear at the beginning rather than waking up like normal.

Comments

Justine 💗 Open [Witch]

[ishisstrength]

I. THE CITY; LOST IN A DREAM

She reached out towards the sea of stars, her fingers splayed as she floats aimlessly through the sky.

'A dream?'

The sensation ebbed and Justine knew that she was dreaming. It wasn't something she'd been told but a simple clear fact that she felt deep within her very being. She knew it like she knew how to breathe and it was as innate as the feelings of panic welling in her chest. The knowledge was a part of her.

It wasn't just that the city was a dream but that it was her city. The place she had slowly begun to recognize as home was gone. It was destroyed and she felt like a piece of her had been destroyed with it.

Justine wandered through the city. Lost and listless but not alone. A shadow followed at her heels as if to follow her in the wake of her steps. Not a shadow but a nightmare.

She was dressed in white, her skin as pale and perfect as porcelain. Her hair as black as the darkness that surrounded them. If those didn't know better, someone might mistake Justine for one of the ghosts that echoed in the rubble of the city. She understood the world around her but she felt so irrevocably lost amidst the chaos in both her mind and the world around her.

She didn't respond to people calling her name but the touch of a hand or the shadow of a ghost passing through her would make her pause and gasp as if waking up to a cold morning chill.

Memories stirred uncomfortably beneath the surface, memories of home, shadows, ghosts and manipulation. It was hard for her to pick out what was real and what was part of the dream.

II. THE CITY; LOSING CONTROL OF MIND & MAGIC

It didn't take long for Justine to finally feel herself tumbling over the edge of madness. Even the touch of things around her felt like it was all part of the dream. Magic sparked at the tips of her fingers as energy pulsed through her slender frame. It was only a dream but she felt magic surge through her like a fire igniting at her core.

'Stupid weak slut.'

The voice began to claw at her thoughts as she struggled to hold it back. It'd been easier lately, easier since she'd found help but the dream had cause her magic to surge and Justine felt her control slipping.

Her mouth parted and she tried to speak but only managed to form the name with her lips.

Kravos's voice echoed in her thoughts as the memory of pain and ghosts shook through her. 'Oh but she's fine. She's happier like this. She can't hurt anyone, you see. Or herself. Her ranting emotions can't compel her to act. That's why the Whites love her so much. They feed on emotion, and this little darling is positively mad with it. It's rather exciting actually, Madness.'

Those standing near by could hear the dark cruel voice echoing in the shell of their ear and feel a stifling choking sensation curl around their throats. Other sensations accompanied the oppressive sensation: weak limbs, a feeling of being drained, wrists bruised and mangled from sharp teeth. Magic sparks in the air and Justine stiffened as the memory became more and more real.

Justine didn't know what was real and what wasn't. Her magic was surging, reacting to her unstable thoughts and affecting those in the area around her.

If left to her own devices the sensation of being controlled, possessed and captured ends with the echo of a sweet familiar voice. It was a deep, velvety tune filled with promise and need. 'Relax.' Justine swayed on her feet making mindless sounds between quick breaths before crumpling to the sidewalk.

The magic didn't disperse right away and neither did that all encasing euphoric sensation of pleasure that forced its way through her.

III. WILD CARD

[ooc: come at me with either the depths or the labyrinth. (I really want her to just disappear after walking across the ice and freak someone out.) I'd be totally interested in Justine dying too if anyone wants to have anything with killing her be it her losing control or yours losing control. Hit me up on plurk mizuyoko. I'm also game with linking your prompts or having a blank wild card with a general OOC idea of what you want and I can do it!!!]

II

[oceanschild]

"J-Justine...? Justine--!"

Paris can hear them.

He couldn't before, when they'd had the bond that she was worried about it and told him, but he can hear them now. Whatever these voices are, he doesn't like them, doesn't want to hear them saying such things about her. But he wouldn't know how to stop them normally, and here it's not any better.

He rushes over to her, his deep blue eyes wide and staring into her imploringly, hands on her arms and trying to make sure she's steady. "Justine, it's-- i-it's ok. You're not alone."

II

[ishisstrength]

His voice was a distant sound in a tapestry of hazy memories and magic playing havoc on her thoughts and perception. She tried to reach for it but she felt him fading away with each outward grasp.

His hand touched her arm and she felt her senses spark to life and pull her back to the present dream she'd found herself locked within.

"P-Paris?" Her fingers curled around his where he had gripped her arm but it didn't feel like it was really happening. "It's to much." Magic sparked at her fingertips and shook through her. Justine didn't know what the dream was doing but she had more magic than she knew what to do with.

[oceanschild]

"Mm. It's me. I-I'm right here..." Paris rubs over her arms with his hands, not sure what will help, what will keep her here with him. "I-- I'm sorry, I don't know what to do, but if I can help I will, so please..." He wants to help her, so badly, and he has no idea how and it hurts. It's a hurt he's never really felt before, not like this; the helplessness he felt when he was caught was different, and he was pretty sure was less than this. Maybe... maybe because it's someone else that he cares for hurting that he feels like this.

[ishisstrength]

Panic twisted uncomfortably in her chest as she sought to fight the fear and panic assaulting in her mind. She hadn't been ready for this. Things had been going so well but the dream had turned everything upside down. Now she was nothing more than what she was but without the escape that Thomas had offered her.

"Paris." She whimpered his name and she sagged against him. She was light and thin but trembling as she tried to regain control over her thoughts. "It's too loud. I can't stop it." Justine reached up and dug her nails into her temple. "Shut it. Just shut it. Please." She begged at nothing as tears gathered at the corner of her eyes.

"Make it stop."

[oceanschild]

He wrapped his arms around her, trying to support her so she wouldn't fall. But he doesn't know what to do, what would help her. Paris presses a kiss to her temples where she's digging in with her nails, holding her tight- he won't let go if she starts taking out her panic on him, either. He won't move, unless he's actively hurting her.

He's not sure if this'll work, but it's the only thing else he can think of, other than just being there. He hasn't had much of the urge to sing, since becoming a merrow, but that doesn't mean he lacks the ability. So... he does, singing softly against her ear in a desperate attempt to sooth whatever voices are driving her mad.

[ishisstrength]

Justine sagged against him, her eyes closed as silent tears rose and streaked down her cheeks. She struggled to speak, to quiet the rage, madness and panic that gripped her chest. Paris helped. Simply by remaining at her side and whispering the warm pleasant song in her ear. Sweet memories of their Bond and their day at the beach filled her mind. She felt the memory of his lips against her skin, the warmth and affection he had offered her while asking for nothing but the chance to comfort her and steady her during her struggles.

The voices clawed at her thoughts and Justine winced as she shouted within the confines of her own mind.

Exhaustion weighed against her arms as the excess magic fled from her limbs. She had only flashes of what had happened to Paris and anyone else unfortunate enough to be standing nearby. It all felt like a hazy dream. Lost in a sea of ghosts.

"Paris?" Her voice was weak, her lips cracked as her mouth and throat dried. Justine tried to stand but found her legs unwilling to hold her weight. "Paris." She whispered again, closing her eyes as she relented her efforts and relaxed against him. "You have a lovely voice. Will you-" Justine exhaled as if struggling to sleep. "Please sing for me?"

[oceanschild]

Paris couldn't tell if what he was doing was helping at all, but he wasn't just going to leave her here on here own. He wanted to make sure she was going to be ok, give her whatever help she needed that he could provide. And if that's just making sure that she doesn't fall, then... he'll do that.

He doesn't let go of her, sensing that she's struggling to hold herself up, propping her body against him so she can lean on him and make it easier. He nods, pressing a soft kiss to her hair. "Of course," he says quietly, rearranging his arms to make the hold on her easier and beginning to sing again, an old folktune he remembers from his childhood.

[ishisstrength]

His voice was helping, filling her with a calming soothing warmth, but it wasn't enough. Her thoughts screamed at her and raged against her mind in a chaotic swarm of pain and hate. "No." She gasped, her breath quickening as her chest heaved with the effort. Justine dug her nails into her chest as she struggled to breath. "No. No. No. No."

Paris.

Crazy. That's what they all say. Stupid crazy bitch.

"NO!" Justine shouted and pushed at Paris, her nails raking down his jaw and throat until bright scarlet flecks of blood colored beneath her nails and smeared onto his pale skin. Her eyes widened in horror at the sight and her heart twisted painfully in her chest. "What did I?" She whispered, her voice trembling. "What did I do? Paris? I'm so sorry."

2

[plasticasshole]

[Connor doesn't know where the voices are coming from, but he sees Justine and she's so obviously in distress that he fights his way to her through the feeling of inexplicable weakness taking hold of him thanks to her magic.]

Justine!

[He touches her arms, not sure how she'll react if he just grabs her.]

Justine, it isn't real. Listen to me.

2

[ishisstrength]

No. [She twists her shoulders and tries to pull away but she can't.] No. Shut up. Shut up. Shut up Shut up. [Justine began to shake her head.] No. Stop. Shut up!

[Her hands grip either side of her head, her nails biting into her scalp until drops of scarlet blood trickle down the side of her cheeks.]

SHUT UP!

[Justine lashes out, nails raking down his cheek and neck as he tries to keep her steady. Blue flecks mingle with the bright red on her nails as Justine finally opens her eyes and see's Connor standing in front of her. Fear, panic and sadness reflect in her lovely dark eyes as she tries to move away from him.]

Connor. [Her voice trembles and tears dot the corner of her eyes.] I'm so sorry. Oh god. No. No. This can't be happening. God no. No.

No. No. No. No.

[plasticasshole]

[Connor keeps a tight hold on her, ignoring the blue that oozes down his face. His skin has partly dissolved there, showing the plastic underneath, but is slowly healing over.]

Justine. It's okay. Come here.

[He tries to pull her into a hug, gently shushing her.]

You'll be okay.

[ishisstrength]

No. Connor. No. [She whispers in a slow hushed voice as she tries to pull away. Her limbs feel too heavy and weak for her to dislodge Connor's hands from her shoulders.] I hurt you. I didn't want to. I'm so sorry.

[Her legs weaken and Justine crumples to the ground as tears fall down her face.]

I'll keep hurting you.

I don't want to. Please. I can't. Not you. It hurts.

[Justine closes her eyes as the darkness threatens to sweep her up again. She's trying to pull herself away but she's too weak.]

[plasticasshole]

You didn't hurt me.

[He kneels with her, brushing her hair out of her face and pressing a kiss to her temple.]

Don't worry. I know you didn't mean to do it. I want you to stay with me, okay? Just focus on me. Focus on my voice. I'm here.

[ishisstrength]

You're bleeding.

[She looks up and meets his gaze, her voice and frame trembling like a leaf in the wind.] I can't stop it. The voices are too loud. It's too much. I can't- [A new wave of tears spill down her cheeks.]

I'm scared.

[plasticasshole]

I know.

[He wipes the blood away carelessly.]

But I don't feel pain, and my face is already healing. It'll be fine.

[As for the voices... he scoots closer and wraps around her defensively.]

The voices aren't real. They can't hurt you. Nothing is going to hurt you, okay? It's just us. You're safe.

[He holds her close, running his hands through her hair.]

Close your eyes. It's just us. I'm here.

[ishisstrength]

They are real. They won't stop. Connor they never stop. [Her arms wrap around him, her nails digging into his shoulders as she buries her face into his neck. Her entire body is trembling with fear and panic as she struggles to fight against the rising pressure and madness inside of her.]

I can't stop it.

I can't...

[She closes her eyes and attempts to bury herself into him, to hide within the protection of his arms but it's impossible for to hide from what's inside her own head.] It's too much Connor. I just want it to stop. Please make it stop.

iii THE LABYRINTH

[justbeingknife]

[ The faint light of the lantern in Majima's hand made an attempt, at least, at cutting through the gloom. But as for the walls? They seemed to be slowly closing in, and he didn't like it. ]

Justine, how're you holdin' up?

[ Some dream, wasn't it? More like a nightmare. ]

iii THE LABYRINTH

[ishisstrength]

-Ah.

[Her voice cuts as something to her left makes her jump, panic flaring uncomfortably in her chest before she refocuses on the path in front of them. It's easier when Majima is nearby. She focuses on the connection between them and feels the comforting embrace of his calm as if it is her own.]

It's not horrible.

[She glances up with him and exhales a huff. There is nothing happy about this dream and it's continuously making Justine very uncomfortable.]

I wasn't really expecting anything like this. I wonder where this is leading us?

[justbeingknife]

[ He shook his head. ]

No way to tell, but...

[ And then he reached out a hand, offering it to her. ]

We'll get through this together, right? It's just a dream. [ It had to be. ] So there's gotta be a way to wake up.

[ishisstrength]

[She eagerly takes his hand, feeling her shoulders relax at the warm touch.]

Yeah. We can do anything together.

[Justine hums softly.]

I could ask you to pinch me. See if that wakes me up. [Humor helps a little bit.

She follows at his side as they continue down the labyrinths corridors. The walls don't feel any less oppressive but Justine feels more confident with Majima's hand in hers. It's warm, strong and a great deal larger than her hand.]

[justbeingknife]

[ He laughed. ]

I can think of a couple ways that'd be more pleasant to wake up to.

[ The labyrinth walls felt close, constricting. But it wasn't until Majima spotted the white of bone piled up against a wall that he squeezed Justine's fingers a little tighter. Too big to be a dog or a cat. ]

We shouldn't stick around here long.

[ishisstrength]

[His laughter courses through her and she finds herself smiling in return.]

Oh? Maybe you should tell me those anyway. When this dream is over, I can use them. [Justine doesn't know if she'll spend a lot of nights or mornings with Majima but it's a fair more pleasant thought than this strange dream and it's uncomfortable labyrinth.] No.

Should we move faster? I think we're nearing the center.

[Even as she asks the question, Justine's pace increases as they turn down the endless paths of their maze.]

[justbeingknife]

[ The water pooled on the floor was getting to be a bit of a problem, rising up to just below his knee. It didn't feel entirely unpleasant -- perhaps a side effect of the dream. Majima kept hold of Justine's hand anyway. ]

Maybe a little, but watch your step. We don't know what's in here.

[ Although as stray bones became increasingly common, he was starting to get the idea that neither of them wanted to find out, either. And it was getting darker, too...

The little cat made of light Majima had conjured before appeared once more to walk by them, casting faint illumination down the hall. ]

[ishisstrength]

[Justine is thankful that she isn't wearing her usual thick skirts as the water level continues to rise. It'd be hell walking with all that wet fabric clinging to her and she doesn't think that Majima would want her walking around in nothing but her panties and a garter belt.]

I will.

[Her grip tightens slightly in his hand as they make their way forward. The presence of bones and darkness gives her pause but Justine attempts to remain steady fast as they continue to make their way.]

I think something is further ahead. This might be one of the clues here, of what happened to the town. There were mazes at the festival too... perhaps this is where they originate from?