[mingle] what's the dream and what's the reality?

[lovetheme]

Lately the castle's nights have been very clear and almost warm, even up so high among the clouds as they are. But regardless of the weather, they are generally peaceful nights, and few things seem to stir during them...apart from the castle's inhabitants, be it with late-night roving or with sleep. The dreams, by extension, are at least undisturbed...if maybe not always pleasant. That sort of thing tends to vary by the person, of course.

But now--and for several nights, consecutively--the castle residents may find their dreams starting to take on stranger shapes: memories they've never had, friends that don't usually arrive, strangers they've never seen. These odd impressions might cling and continue to confuse even upon waking, vivid as they were; was it really just a dream, or maybe something more...? Does that newcomer in your dream remember you there too, in the daytime?

Either way, there seems to be an strange energy in the air during these nights. And it's bringing dreams together.

((ooc: And here's the catch-all post for the dream-sharing event! Feel free to top-level with your character's dreams here, or thread around in others! The event should only last about a week, but backtagging is eternal c: The ooc planning post can be found here!))

Comments

[lovetheme]

A
You open your eyes to somebody knocking on the door.

You're lying flat on your back on a bed. ...A small children's bed, just wide enough for two, with a pair of small pillows at the headboard to accommodate each. It has clean white sheets. There's a larger bed right beside it, with larger pillows and orange sheets--empty, though.

And there's a door somewhere across the room, and the knocking persists, haphazard and impatient. A small boy's strangely familiar voice pipes up from behind it.

"Hey!! How long long're you gonna sleep?! Get up so we can play! Get up, already!" A huff. "The Dragos brought their babies over! They're really cute!! Hurry up!" The knocking finally stops, after this, and there's a clatter of light steps as the boy audibly roves off and away from the door, excitement evidently getting the better of his patience. Silence falls.

It's a very comfortable little room. Wooden floors and walls, wood tables and chairs, jars and flowers propped on shelves. To one side there's a woodstove, emanating a warmth that fills the small space; beyond that, a small dresser with a mirror hung over it. Not much else, in here. Truly, there's an almost spartan air of simple living about the place, greatly at odds with the ornamental dust of the castle.

A small set of stairs lead down to the door.

B
You're standing in an elevator. It's small, and drab--gray metal-paneled walls, gray metal-paneled floor. The doors are sealed shut in front of you, and there's nothing labeled around it to indicate any floor numbers. But the elevator's definitely moving upwards; the hum of it vibrates all around, thick and oppressive, alongside the tug of gravity at your feet.

Lucas is standing next to you, the determined set of his features belied by the paleness of his face. Every line in his frame is strung tense and anxious. In one hand he's carrying a simple metal baseball bat, and his eyes are fixed forward, staring at the door.

"I wonder if this one will be the hundredth floor." When he does speak up his voice is barely audible over the elevator's hum. He seems to talk more to himself than anything. His eyes don't move from the doors.

And then, right on cue, a jarringly cheerful jingle rings in through some hidden speaker in the ceiling. A woman's voice, cool and calm: "Next stop, 100th floor."

Lucas hardly seems relieved to hear this, for some reason. His grim expression doesn't shift at all, in fact, until the humming ceases and the elevator bumps to a halt and the doors slide open, pale light filtering in from outside. Lucas steps out and pauses, waiting for you to follow.

B!

[lostinmyway]

It's a little surprising to see Lucas beside her--but only a little. After all, she's been visiting lots of places this week.

She follows Lucas out the door and reaches for his empty hand.

"Everything's going to be all right, dear," she says gently. She'll look after him.

B~

[dustless]

"...Did we go up, or down?" Frisk asks, eyeing Lucas' bat. They're holding their frypan for the first time in a while, and their locket is safely around their neck.

100 floors down reminds them of something dangerous and sad, but Lucas knows best for now, they think.

They glance backwards, brow furrowing at the lack of buttons even there. This was not designed reasonably at all. Which means, of course, that there's no way back.

Well. They're used to that.

Frisk steps out too, glancing around. "'S there a sign?"

A~

[buttercup_eater]

This seems... strange.

The room is oddly comfortable, despite the fact that Chara's quite sure they've never been here before in their life. Even if they're lying on the bed, in their pajamas, as if they've been snoozing away for the past however long.

Very slowly, Chara slides off of the bed and pads their way around the room, pausing briefly to stare at their reflection in the mirror. Unless something unusual jumps out any time soon they'll soon make their way down to the door, turning the knob with only a hint of trepidation.

For everyone who doesn't sleep. :P

[lightofthestars]

It has been a strange week. The air does not feel right, and Tauriel's friends have spoken to her of odd dreams. For one who does not sleep--not as mortals do--it confuses her, and though she offers what comfort she can, there is only so much she can do.

Surely she cannot be the only one so perplexed...?

[notsogrimreaper]

Definitely not the only one. Ryoji is finding all of this a little bit odd, and even though he often stays up during the night because of his bad nightmares, he's been finding that the feeling in the warm air makes him even less inclined to sleep.

So he goes for walks by himself, slowly pacing through the castle, occasionally finding books to thumb through to stave off boredom. A friend, however, holds off the mundane better than books, so when he spots Tauriel, he approaches with a small smile.

"Good evening."

[mediadarling]

Mettaton hates being left out of the loop. He's a star--he's supposed to be at the centre of everything! But apparently, the drama and the action are happening while everyone is asleep. Considering he's never slept a wink for as long as he's existed, the chances of him getting in on that action are, in fact, zero.

Anyone running into him around bedtime will find him in a rather grumpy mood. Being a ghost in a robot's body can be a real drag sometimes.

[ofthehellguard]

After one mishap with a dream Uriel has lost her taste for sleep. The White City was never dark and as a result the angels had rather little need of it, but after a hundred years of being constantly on guard the respite would have been welcome...

Nothing to do about it now. Uriel spends her nights wandering the castle, as a sort of patrol like the ones she occasionally participates in herself on Earth.

[lostinmyway]

A

You'll find yourself sitting on a red-and-white checkered picnic blanket. By your elbow is a wicker basket with the lid flipped open, showing carefully packed food. A blueberry pie sits on top.

Around you is a small grassy patch and one huge garden simply bursting with flowers in all colours, all riotously healthy. Behind you is a wide dirt path, and surrounding you are tall trees.

On your other side is Grune, but she isn't paying attention to you at the moment. Instead, she's watching a teenaged girl in bright yellow with pigtails chasing Sophie around. Sophie is shrieking with laughter, and the teenager is giggling as she yells "I'm gonna get you!"

There are other people at the picnic as well: another teenage girl with pigtails, blond instead of brown; a motherly young woman with her hair in a bun; yet another blond, this one a young man who looks as if he's grumpily wondering how he wound up here. And off to one side, a five-foot monster bird with a huge curly plume upon its head is pecking at the ground in search of bugs.

At last, Grune turns to you, beaming. "Isn't this so much fun?"

B

It's dark. It's cold. Around you are the shapes of buildings, elongated past all sense and twisted into shapes that couldn't possibly be real. The air is claustrophobic; it's hard to breathe.

Far away (or three paces off), there are two patches of light in the darkness. One light is green shot with white, warm grass on a summer afternoon. The other light is deep purple with black mist roiling through it, the airless void of space. The purple light is slowly but inevitably overpowering the green.

If you approach the wielder of the purple light, you will find a woman standing tall, barely visible through the mist. She is dressed in black and purple and her hair is a faded aqua that, even tied back, hangs to her calves. That mist reaches for you, ready to wrap you up until you can no longer see and you wake gasping for breath.

If you approach the wielder of the green light, you will find Grune. She stands tall, her head held high in spite of her quickly approaching defeat. She does not notice you just yet.

a

[buttercup_eater]

Chara watches the scene spread out around them in silence, at first. They recognize Sophie, and Grune, although nobody else seems familiar, and they recognize that this is probably some sort of family gathering.

Nobody seems to be bothered by Chara's presence and in fact, Chara doesn't even realize they're actually physically present in the area, until Grune suddenly turns and addresses Chara.

Grune will see Chara's eyes widen and blink rapidly. When the child responds, their tone is cautious, and they shift on the blanket as if they're considering bolting.

"I don't think I'm supposed to be here."

[sansational]

A
What a nice little town you've found yourself in.

It's a cluster of cozy wooden cabins on the edge of a wide, slow river. There's snow on the ground and frosting every roof and windowsill. Christmas lights are strung up frequently to light a place that has never known sunlight. There's even a brightly decorated tree in the center of town. The town's inhabitants - a variety of shapes, sizes, and creatures - go about their business, smiling and calling out greetings to one another and to you. A bear in a button-down shirt counts presents beneath the tree. A rabbit in a rather nice blouse and skirt walks a smaller rabbit on a leash.

And a skeleton, who seems to all but materialize at your side. Sans is grinning happily, his usual hoodie zipped up all the way with the hood pulled up and over his skull - probably just because of the cold.

"c'mon, pal! i'm supposed to be the only lazybones around here." He takes your hand and tries to lead you onwards. "we've been waiting on you. don't got all the time in the world, after all."

B
The cave is lit by glowing gemstones scattered across the ceiling, a soft light coming up from the patches of tall grass, and the reflected shine off the water that covers the rest. Tall blue flowers are scattered here and there in the water and on the solid islands. Each of them makes a whispering sound that might individually be recognizable as a sentence, repeated over and over again without end. All together they make an indistinct sort of murmur that blends with the sound of water.

I am weak I let them down I am useless It's my fault I can't do it I let him die...

It might be a beautiful sort of place, if one plagued by an aura of lingering sadness in the air, if not for the demons prowling about. In reality, in life, they were good and friendly monsters - teenagers who liked to hang out in the woods, a shy singer who never got the chance to start taking lessons again, a robot who's shields weren't strong enough. Now, they're twisted and shambling things. Some of them seem to be melted and twisted together into new and nightmarish forms, some have just been made jagged and sharp and hateful by rage and pain.

And as they pace through the grass and water, they all call out with ragged, rasping, whispering voices:

"Saaaaaaaaaans..."

Sans is huddled in an overhang of rock, just a few feet away from you. His eyesockets are wide and dark with terror, and he's desperately trying not to shake too hard to give himself away. It's only a matter of time. It always is.

C
You're standing behind a control panel, alongside a taller skeleton in a labcoat. Sans - also wearing a labcoat - is visible through the wide window looking out into the room beyond. He's been securely strapped down to what looks like an operating table, so that he's facing up towards a grim-looking machine. The tubes extend upwards, into the ceiling. The prongs of the machine's beak are pointing down at Sans, right between his eyesockets. Despite this, Sans appears calm, even drumming the fingers of his hand on the table as he waits.

The taller skeleton addresses you without looking over. There's something strange about his voice, a static sort of undertone, but the words are understandable enough. "Double-check the temporal elasticity for me, if you would be so kind. And I think I left the reports from our last three tests on the table back there."

C for now~

[dustless]

They should really know how to do that. Temporal means time, and they should be an expert on time stuff, but they're not. They're just squinting at the screen, watching wavy lines make their way across it.

"...don't think that's right," Frisk informs their boss, then ambles off to poke at the reports. Which they can't read when they pick up; the lines on it are moving just as much as the screen had. Great.

Sans looks calm. They don't see why he wouldn't be. There's no DT for it to extract, since he's a monster. They nod to him, and wonder if he can see how bewildered they are from the angle he's at.

C

[dr_awesome]

...You know, when Sans mentioned taking part in a lot of science experiments, this is not what Watts expected. He expected more vials of liquid, more bubbling concoctions, not a thing that looks more like a torture device than a machine, and not anything regarding temporal elasticity. Was Sans really messing with timelines? Maybe this explains why he could teleport...

The other skeleton's voice snaps him out of it, and he looks over with a nervous grin.

"Uh, sure. No problem, doc. I can get you those reports. But uh... maybe refresh my memory on how to double-check the wibbly wobbly timey wimey stuff? I'm afraid they didn't give me nearly enough training for this."

He looks back to Sans, trying to catch his attention and maybe get some sort of confirmation that this is fine and he shouldn't be trying to get Sans out.

B for now!

[lostinmyway]

The cavern is so beautiful. Everything is lit by soft blue light, and there are so many flowers everywhere.

But...it hurts. A hand reaches up to press against her chest. Everyone here is hurt.

Especially Sans. When she sees him, she steps forward, then kneels down in front of him.

"It's all right, Sans," she says softly. "I'm here."

A

[systematicsupport]

S-4 asked a lot of questions about 'outside'. Gaster had given him patient, simple answers. The other scientists had just waved him off. But nothing could have prepared S-4 for this anyways.

It's beautiful. Bright and cheerful and cozy, despite the cold white stuff crunching underneath S-4's feet. There are so many people and places to go that he has no idea where he could possibly start.

Fortunately, someone appears who would know, and S-4 beams excitedly to see who it is.

"Sans! Where are we?"

b

[lovetheme]

What very strange flowers...Lucas is pretty sure he's never seen these kinds before. They're not much like sunflowers at all, apart from perhaps their height--but maybe Mom would have liked them anyway. She was fond of all sorts. Even the kind that might whisper strange and sad things at you...Lucas leans down a bit, tipping his ear to the petals, and he hears--old, familiar thoughts. Which brings a bit of a pang, but he frowns too.

"Are you sure?" he murmurs back to the flower--but other movements and other voices catch his attention, after that, and he straightens before he can take in any particular response on the flower's part.

There's other forms, after all--unfamiliar, strange and menacing, passing around and about through the faintly glowing grass of the cavern. They call out a familiar name, which is startling as well, and Lucas turns, spotting familiar pale bones and a blue hoodie among the rocks. Getting there is trickier, his sneakers squelching and splashing in the mud and water, but he's concerned now, and that adds a bit more speed to his approach.

"Sans?" Lucas ducks and curls under the overhang himself, next to the skeleton, peering back out into the marsh with some alarm. He tentatively reaches for one of Sans' shoulders. "Sans, we should get out of here..."

[dustless]

A-wandering the underground

Frisk, smiling, holds their cell phone tight. Voices chatter from it, and you find you know whose, even though you have no memory of when you met the owners' before. The cheery loudness of Papyrus; the somewhat more aggressive loudness of Undyne; the nervous stutter of Alphys; the calm, soothing words of Toriel; the understated chuckle of Sans; the regal pronunciations of Asgore; and even quiet, matching murmurs of Asriel and Chara.

Abruptly, they turn to you. "Who d'you want to visit first?"

B-the city

Between the skyscrapers and mountains, the sky is mostly grey, a few tears of blue visible between the clouds. Cars inch along in the road beside you, people part around you. You're on the sidewalk. All the peoples' faces are shadowed.

Papers flutter down the street. Cans clang as they roll and are kicked by careless passing feet. The air smells like fried food.

"Tickets!" a man booms from somewhere underground. Not too far away, there are stairs down leading to a subway.

Children laugh around the corner. There's a playground there. It's in the middle of the road, but none of the cars seem to care, driving beneath the massive jungle gyms and swings and slides.

The streetlights flicker, unsure of the time. Glimpsing reflections in the windows of the stores and homes show a child in different colors: green, blue, yellow, pink. They don't look at you, but they don't leave your side as you walk through the streets.

C-amalgams

You can only see a few feet in front of you, grimy floor tiles lit by green monitors filled with unintelligible text. Frisk is beside you, but they're not paying attention. They're just moving forward, eyes filled with tears.

Your companion is silent, but the lab is far from it. Your echoing footsteps slowly uncover other sounds. Distorted howls paired with the buzzing of ventilation fans. Twisted voices layering over each other, pleading and croaking and strident. A gasping, broken word, the speaker (if there is one) on the edge of tears. Staticky screaming. Wrathful hissing.

And yet, you can't see what's doing it. Whoever--whatever--are speaking is still up ahead, where they're leading you.

But you can't go back, even if you try. You're stuck with Frisk.

D-determination

Spears tear after Frisk, over and over and over and over. One rips through their chest with a terrible spray of blood, but then everything goes dark and you're both back at the edge of Waterfall, staring up determinedly, stepping forward again--

--or maybe you're standing in a foggy field in Snowdin, watching them trip over bones until they fall to their knees--

--or perhaps you're cheering in a crowed in front of the TV and somehow just to the side all at once, watching the human get zapped over and over even as they pose and scoff and make you cheer harder--

--or maybe you're standing in a city in shades of grey, or purple, and you're waiting for the child in front of you to give up or die or both--

--they're in your way. Or you're in theirs. Either way, if they get out, all scraps of hope the underground has mustered will be lost. Stop them.

B for now!

[lostinmyway]

Normally, Grune loves cities. They're full of so many people living their lives all together, working hard to build a good future.

But this city isn't like that. She doesn't think the people here like working together.

She isn't alone, though. There's a child beside her. Maybe they can be friends.

"Hello," Grune says softly.

[systematicsupport]

A

You find yourself in a simple room with plain white walls. Half of it seems to be fashioned like a normal office, with a desk covered in papers, a tall bookshelf full of journals, and a labcoat hanging off of a chair. On the other side of the room are bits of machinery that look more like they belong in a work of science fiction. Wires, beeping monitors, and lit-up screens are all attached to two large class tubes. One holds a skeleton, supposedly unconscious, and the other is empty.

The previous occupant of the second tube is now sitting at a table in the chair next to you. There's a variety of crayons fanned out around him, and he's hard at work bent over a piece of paper. If he had a tongue, he would be sticking it out.

After a minute or two, he taps your shoulder and holds out the page.

"Do... do you want to see my picture?"

B

You are standing in a harshly lit room. There is a clipboard in your hand, and attached to that is what appears to be a scientific report, listing off a certain subjects vital signs before and after certain experiments, information on magical abilities, and jot notes on behaviour. Most of it is in scientific jargon, and parts of it are in another language entirely. But the picture attached to the papers is easily identifiable as a photo of S-4.

S-4 himself is sitting in front of you, restrained by his wrists to a chair. He occasionally tugs on the straps, letting out quiet noises of frustration when his arms don't budge.

There's a presence beside you, a low voice that already sounds bored.

"Hurry up and give him the codewords already. I'm tired of listening to him like this."

S-4's head snaps up to look at you.

"I... I don't like this. Can I go back, please?"

A

[lostinmyway]

Grune is in the middle of looking around the room (it's very interesting!) when she feels a tap on her shoulder. She turns, and as soon as she sees S-4, her expression lights up in a smile.

"Oh, yes, of course! What did you draw?"

[dr_awesome]

A

The air is warm and stagnant in the castle, but a cool breeze blowing past you will alert you to the fact that you've entered a new dream.

You're up on a hill, and the sound of crickets chirping suggests it must be summer. Apparently nearby, there is a pair of humans taking part in one of the great summer traditions. A tent is set up under the shade of a tree, with an elderly man tending the fire. He calls out into the cool evening air.

"Neil, the hot dogs will be ready soon!"

There's a rustle from a nearby bush, before a small child with a messy head of curls and thick glasses bursts out.

"Not Neil! I'm the mad scientist Dr. Watts!"

The old man laughs softly.

"Yes, yes, of course. But mad scientists need to eat too!"

Neil rushes over to a spot where a telescope is set up. "Fine! I'll be right there!"

He apparently isn't going to be 'right there', as he's now eagerly looking into the telescope, up at the array of stars.

B

The scene abruptly changes into the interior of a rustic cottage, perfectly in time with the slam of a door being thrown open. Watts is leaping down the stairs two at a time, desperate to get outside.

A woman's voice calls out to him in confusion. "Wait, where are you going?" Neil halts halfway through vaulting over the banister. His steps slow, still bringing him closer to the door, even as he clears his throat and attempts to sound calm.

"I... gotta go take a leak."

Without another word, he's out the door. Will you follow him?

B

[lostinmyway]

Of course she will. Neil looks upset. She can't leave him to be upset alone.

"Neil, dear, where are you going?" she calls after him, even as she closes the door carefully behind them. It's important to have good manners, no matter what.

[antitemporal]

A
Sans-Serif is struggling with himself. Quite literally - there appear to be two of him One looks much as he does in day-to-day life in the castle - dressed in his old lab clothes, a little sicklier and spindlier than he is nowadays, but basically the same. The other is empty-eyed and motionless and quiet, a doll in all but name. The two of them appear to be bound together with strings around their joints, and as they struggle and fight with one another, it only serves to get them more tangled up. As they fight with one another, it only serves to exhaust the real one (or is he just a delusion?) because the fake is evidently stronger (or was he the real one all along?).

You stand with your cohorts in the hallway of a lab, watching the two of them fight. Until at last one lets out a long-suffering sigh, steps forward, and clicks his fingers. "Anti-Temporal Interference Unit. Enough wasting time."

The doll lifts its head to regard the scientists, and nods. Resolutely ignoring Sans-Serif's attempts to hold it back or beat it down, it gets back to its feet, takes hold of the puppet strings, and starts to drag its counterpart onwards towards the open door at the end of the hall. Sans-Serif, meanwhile, kicks and struggles and thrashes with all his might, but to no avail. He screams, but nobody listens: "no no no stop it i don't want to i don't like this let me go stop...!"

B
You're sitting on a cloud. It's quite soft and fluffy, more like a pile of pillows than a collection of water vapor. The cloud is floating in the vast night sky, stars scattered all around. If you dare to look down, you'll see the castle in the distance, the treetops of the forest down below. You're not too high up. You won't fall.

Sans-Serif is sitting on a nearby cloud, secure enough with the situation to let his legs dangle over the edge. He appears to be eating something - something that causes sparks and lights to flash in his teeth as he crunches down. He stares out over the area, until he feels you looking at him and looks to you instead. "do you see it yet?"

C
The halls of the castle are dark and bloodied. Thunder booms and lightning flashes outside, rain pounding down against the stone hard enough to make the castle feel as though it's shaking beneath the weight of the storm. Bodies lay strewn about like ragdolls, some defined, some even recognizable, but others might as well be empty and broken toys.

You're standing at the end of one hallway. A flash of lightning illuminates the path ahead, highlighting but not quite identifying the bodies. Sans-Serif stands beside you, trembling hard enough to rattle with fear, trying desperately not to break down in sobs.

What appear for all the world to be two other Sanses stand on either side of him, one with a grip on each arm. One - taller and stronger, dressed mostly in reds and blacks - gives his shoulder a shake. "crying isn't going to do us any good. it'll just get us dead along with them. come on!" Another - bright-eyed and vibrating with energy, dressed in a strange sort of armor with a blue scarf around his shoulders - tries to urge himself on as well. "we have to find out who did such a horrible thing! and, as aspiring members of the royal guard, it is our duty to stop them!"

C

[systematicsupport]

S-4 has had enough dreams, especially over the last week, that he has started to recognize when he's been placed in one. Reality is usually solid and doesn't waver. It's easy to understand. Dreams are confusing and change too quickly to keep track of, and sometimes they contain images S-4 swears he would never see in real life.

He knows this is a dream. If this was real, there wouldn't be nearly so much blood. The bodies wouldn't change to show different faces every time he looked down. He's be able to feel the ground properly under his feet.

But even if it isn't real, the terror he experiences is real enough, especially when he hears the faint rattling of bones and sees Sans-Serif before him.

"Brother!"

He reaches out before pausing at the images of the other skeletons, looking between them with confusion. He can recognize both of them as Sans, but neither of them are Sanses he knows. It isn't just the normal Sans playing a prank and dressing in a costume... that one is taller and... darker, somehow, while the other is too energetic to be his brother.

Cautiously, S-4 takes a step closer, lifting his hand a bit more.

"I-It's okay... it's okay, I'm here..."

catmom reporting for duty

[regalduchess]

A. You're in a room, classy without being opulent; furnished in whites and creams, a splash of beige on a dustcover on the chair. Three kittens-- one black, one white, one orange-- play on the carpet. They're silent, though the entire dream entirely too muted and soft to be real.

B. Duchess pads through a jungle; large enough to turn her teeth into spikes and her claws into sharp, jagged points.

A panther, a white one, not meaning any harm, she stalks her prey-- you.

A!

[lostlegacy]

Sophie doesn't care that everything feels a little bit off here. She's been having bad dreams a lot lately--kittens are a very welcome break.

"Hi kitties!" Sophie calls out, hurrying forward with a hand outstretched to pet the nearest one.

[exuviiated]

A. Gotham's dark; always is, even during the day. The darkness that falls in the alleyways always makes it hard to tell whether the light at the end of the tunnel is a streetlight or the sun, both a dull white glow that can't penetrate more than a meter.

Senses, here, too, are wrong somehow-- it smells like mold, looks like dark, feels clammy and cold. This place has a taste, too, a bitter one that settles on the back of the tongue and stings.

B. This dream is brighter, a haze of dark greens and bright yellows, blinking lights and red buttons. It's harder to navigate, though; instead of a dark alley, it's long, a maze, complicated and winding and doubling-back and cramped. He's right there, dressed in his uniform and leaning against the wall; waiting.

B :3c

[dustless]

Wow, those are a lot of buttons. Tempting to press, too. But there's something else to do. Aaron's waiting for them, after all.

So they spring to settle beside him, copying his pose with a bright grin. They're wearing something pretty similar.

[lostlegacy]

A

No matter your height in the waking world, in this dream, you're no more than four feet tall--or you seem to be. Everything in the castle is scaled large, threateningly so. The ceilings are higher, the hallways wider, and the shadows longer and darker.

But this is all background to the real horror of the dream: Chara, who looms a head taller than you. They clench a knife that's almost a sword in their hand, and they're smiling with a literal jagged knife slash of a mouth.

"Hold still," they tell you and Sophie both where you're stuck to the floor. Blood pours from their mouth. "I'm going to give you a friendship necklace."

"Then we can be friends forever," Frisk adds from behind them. Their throat matches Chara's mouth; blood gushes unendingly from the wound and streams from the corners of their mouth.

Sophie turns to run. If you join her, you'll find you both have weighted legs. Behind you, Chara laughs and begins their advance.

B

You find yourself standing in the middle of a small playground of wood and rope and metal. Around it is a two-floor building--a schoolhouse, you somehow know--some gardens, and, outside of the dirt area around the playground are tall trees. The sun is shining and the sky is clear, except for some fluffy white clouds. It's morning, and the air is warm with just a hint of a fresh fall scent.

"Hey!"

Sophie is sitting on a swing and kicking her legs, one after the other so that the swing does nothing more than jerk a little in the air.

"C'mon and give me a push!"

C

You find yourself inside a single-storey house, in the middle of the living room. You can hear the sound of opening and closing doors and Sophie's quiet voice. If you look for her, you'll find her going through rooms one by one, searching in closets and under beds, all the while softly calling names:

"Fen? Norma? Wally? ...Mommy?"

C.

[consultmybooks]

The greater silence is deafening, loud and vast enough that the soft sounds of the last person left in this little house seems all the more faint in comparison.

Giles can't remember how he got here. He can't remember what happened. The fog in his head feels a little like what might have happened after being returned from a kidnapping, and it certainly wouldn't be the first time he'd been dropped somewhere inconvenient and strange, but this is...different. Wrong.

The sound of a small child's voice shouldn't be a comfort, but it is, and Giles hesitantly calls her name:

"...Sophie?"

[andthebat]

A: Gotham City Skyline

Hopefully you're not afraid of heights, because right now you're standing hundreds of stories above a street full of rushing cars, on the side of a building lined with gargoyles. The wind whips at your hair and clothes. Streets and buildings stretch out beyond yours, dark deco skyscrapers and similar elegant, old style structures, electric lights that glitter like stars, the city extending as far as the eye can see. Even if you can't quite see them from up here, you have a definite sense of countless dark nooks and crannies and alleyways to be explored.

And then, as you're standing there, the wind picks up and suddenly an enormous, bat-like monster is swooping past you.

B: A Bat In A Cage

You appear to be in some sort of abandoned underground car park, gloomy and musty smelling, full of large wooden crates containing who knows what. Despite the flickering overhead lights, the distant stretches of the car park are shrouded in darkness, giving the impression of infinite space. At least there's a cement wall to your left that you might be able to orient yourself with.

Still, you'll need to be careful: You're not alone here. Patrolling in between the crates are numerous heavily armed men in strange uniforms that consist of dark tactical armor, masks that cover their entire heads, and goggles that give each guard the appearance of three glowing orange eyes. What's more, a few of the men are guarding a large metal cage a few feet away from you, in which a possibly familiar beast is crouched. None of them have spotted you yet- but you may need to move out of sight quickly.

C: Some Montage Music and You'll Be Set

How do you feel about obstacle courses? Because that's what you're looking at right now. It's a bit crude looking, consisting of mostly wooden equipment that's clearly been homemade- though it all appears sturdy- spread out in a lap over a large patch of dirt. The area beyond the obstacle course appears to be some sort of park or massive garden, and looming over the trees in the distance you can see a big fancy house.

Then you hear a whistle, and a moment later three beastly people drop out of the sky around you. The first is the Batman himself, landing a few feet in front of you. The second lands to your left- they're another bat person, like the Batman, except they're a bit smaller, girlish looking, with less of a mane and reddish fur, and they're wearing a shabby purple dress. And to your right lands another person, but this one resembles a red breasted robin, though they're about the size of a human being and dressed in eye catching bright clothes. Luckily, all three of your new companions seem to be in a good mood.

"Okay," Batman announces, "Here's what we'll do. You three will start at the monkey bars, and do ten laps around the circuit." He holds up a stopwatch. "Let's see if any of you can beat the old record."

D: Little Boy Lost

Fog surrounds you, engulfing the cobbled street and buildings in a chilly haze. It's probably sometime in the evening, because there's a reddish glow in the area like the sun's setting and the street lights are on, though the lamps don't seem to be doing much for the gloom beyond brightening up whatever cone of fog is underneath them. The street is empty and silent, but for the distant tolling of a bell.

The bell tolls once... twice... nine times in total before stopping, and then small, frantic footsteps can be heard racing down the cobblestones. A shadowy figure emerges from the fog and before either of you can stop it, it barrels straight into you.

"Ooof!"

It's a boy. A human boy, with dark hair and large blue eyes, which are now staring at you frantically. "What are you doing here?" he asks, confusion and worry clearly evident in his tone.

B - Grune why.

[lostinmyway]

Grune looks about at the new place she's standing in. It's very interesting and very big, and there are so many people about! And--oh! It's one of her friends! But...why is he in a cage?

Rather than ducking out of sight, Grune walks directly toward the people in front of Batman's cage. "Hello."

[buttercup_eater]

A: Meal Time

The dining room looks like something you'd see in a furniture catalog, all neat and tidy with tasteful, yet somehow indistinct decor hung up on the walls and scattered on nearby shelves. And the food on the table's so shiny and nice looking it seems like it has to be made out of wax or something, or even if not, like it'd be a crime to despoil it by eating it. Only, it's strange- even though everything will look alright if you examine it, everything in the room that you touch feels somehow wet and furry, like it's covered in invisible mold. It smells like it too, a pungent, sour odor that makes it hard to breathe.

Chara's here too, sitting stiffly at one end of the table, and they're the only thing in the room that doesn't look nice, their hair a mess and their sweater coated with dried blood and dust. They don't say anything to you when you appear, they just stare blankly at the empty space on the place mat in front of them.

B: Law of the Jungle

The elementary school is like a maze. Doors are everywhere, leading through classrooms, closets, cafeterias, corridors, lockers, gymnasiums, auditoriums, everything and anything that you can think of, except for outside. Litter is scattered wherever you go, and bright murals are painted on the hallway walls, depicting cheerful scenes of stick figure children and animals romping about, playing in emerald green grass, wide smiles painted on each and every face.

And of course, what is a school without real children? They're scattered here and there too- although maybe "real" isn't the right description for them. No matter how tall you are normally, they're all around the same height as you, and while they all move and sound like ordinary human children there's something about their faces and clothes that remind you of baby dolls. Much like the murals they're all smiling, though they're also ignoring you.

And then you see Chara just up ahead. They walk calmly through the room, clutching a bright blue backpack in their arms. They're smiling too, but there's something very grim about how their jaw is set...

C: Ashes to Ashes

The Underground is... wrong.

You seem to be in Snowdin, mostly. Paths that would normally lead to Ice Wolf or Waterfall now head to other parts of the Underground entirely; you can see New Home just to the North, for instance, and echo flowers flicker in and out of existence all around you, even though they wouldn't normally grow out here in the snow. The messages they whisper don't make any sense, things like "Z" or "LEFT" or "C" or "ATTACK."

Dust lightly coats everything, and the temperature is neither cold nor hot. Everything feels distant and slightly static-y.

You're not entirely alone here, but that's probably not a good thing. There are monsters wandering about, some of them flickering in and out like the echo flowers, but they aren't like the friendly sort you might be expecting. They're all grey and dissolving, and a few of them make angry sounding sobs.

Chara is wandering around too, and whenever they get close to one of the monsters, strange flat boxes and glowing images appear in the air around them, disappearing whenever Chara stabs the monsters with their knife.

D: Your New Home

This time, the place you find yourself in is... nice. You're in the living room of a cute, tidy house. A fire is crackling happily away in the fire place, and a large white monster in a purple dress sits in a comfy chair by the fire, reading a book out loud to a little white monster, and an even bigger monster with a blonde mane. Both of them are listening to her with rapt attention.

They aren't the only ones. There's a table at the other end of the room, and seated in one of the chairs, watching the monsters, is Chara. They look nicer than you're probably ever seen them, and it isn't due to what they're wearing or how their hair looks, but due to the small, happy smile on their face.

A for now

[dustless]

The cupcake Frisk picks up at the seat beside them squishes in their fingers. They've eaten actual garbage that was better than this.

"...ew."

The food is hastily shoved back into its place on the serving platter. But when they set their hands on the arms of the chair, they sink into the wood in the exact same way. In fact, their entire body is sinking into the chair, and they scoot forward until they're barely sitting on the very edge.

Frisk glances towards Chara. "Bad cooking," they say, tone conversational.