maybe I'll sleep when I am dead

[rigging]

Who: Jesse Finch and PEOPLE
Where: Dreamland
When: Day 83-88
What: you can dream if you wanna
Warnings: Across the board warning for triggery content. References to child abuse, drugs, alcohol, death, lots of awful things. Good things too! But probably more bad, knowing me.

[ ooc: I'm going to write up a bunch of dreams for specific people under sub-threads in this post! So please don't tag the post, but tag the sub-thread for your character - I have planned things but I would ALWAYS be up for more. If you want me to write up a dream or plot up something for Jesse and your character, lemme know @tahdis on plurk, I'd be happy to come up with something with you I SERIOUSLY WANT ALL THE THINGS.

Still looking for possible dream fights with strangers, too! ]

Comments

→ for Jesse Pinkman (day 83ish)

[rigging]

It's always so fucking dark in this room, Jesse thinks. Which is stupid, because for such an expensive and high class school you'd think they'd have more than one fucking lightbulb in the circular dorm room. But no, there's one light in the middle of the room, one fan, and it makes it unbearable here in hot Augusts, so much that the boys usually end up just going shirtless unless they're in class.

He isn't supposed to be in here, though. He has class. So he grabs his books and leaves, out into the hallway, long and stretched out and twisted. Humming, Jesse adjusts his books in his hands and starts walking. Nothing out of the ordinary. He's sweating in his white collared shirt, tattoos carefully covered up, hair buzzed short, seventeen, short, and broad-shouldered, with a hint of hangover. Just because it's a Catholic school doesn't mean he can't party, come on.

[magnets]

He goes from one step to the next and there's an immediate shift, from simply being to being largely out of place. The door to his house leads straight into whatever the fuck this place is, and Jesse absentmindedly plucks the cigarette from his mouth, does a twirl in the hallway with a surprised kind of, "Um."

It's absolutely sweltering here, and he tugs at his collar, begins to regret the whole cardigan thing he has going on here but he'll get himself situated soon enough. First thing's first, and that's figuring out wherever the fuck he got himself landed into. Curiosity might've killed the cat, sure, but luckily he ain't no fuckin' cat. He starts slowly down the hall, one of his hands running light fingers along the walls as he goes.

[rigging]

The hallway seems to straighten out and then twist again, back and forth as Pinkman walks along, and at first, the walls are fine. But as he keeps walking (and he could walk forever in these halls, there's no end), he's going to eventually run his fingers over something sharp. Several somethings sharp, actually, like dragging your fingers over a bed of nails. Or a bed of needles.

But there's nothing on the wall, it's just a wall, and suddenly, there's a door. A door which a smaller, younger Finch walks through, kicking the door open with his foot, books in his arms. He stops - stares, hair too short and eyes sharp with a sort of defensiveness that isn't in the modern day Finch's expression.

"... Gonna get in trouble, smoking in the halls. Dumbass."

[magnets]

Christ, this place just stretches on forever - it feels like no matter how he walks, he's not getting anywhere useful. There's no doors, no nothing, not even a window, though his hand does jerk away from the wall after a certain amount of steps, confused. He leans towards the wall and squints curiously at the spot. There's not even anything there. No harm done so he starts to do it again, tentatively, only makes it a few more feet before it happens a second time. "Ow, hey, what the hell."

But then a door suddenly opens in front of him, one he didn't see before, and Jesse takes a step back and away, before he really takes in the sight of who it is that's just walked through it. "No way," he remarks slowly, ignores the comment in favor of letting his eyes flicker over the guy in front of him. Finch? Jesse breaks out into a half a laugh, gestures to him with the hand with the cigarette. "Look at you, man!"

[rigging]

Finch bristles, looking indignant. Excuse you, you don't just come into his school and start laughing at him, don't you know who he is? Except - that's the problem, isn't it? Pinkman does know who he is, and Finch, still convinced he's a seventeen year old on the way to class, takes a step away from Pinkman and scowls deeply.

"The fuck are you supposed t'be, some new teacher?" Finch asks, holding his books tightly to his chest. "Gonna get fired the first day, what kinda moron does that?"

He rolls his eyes. "Whatever. I guess I'll see you in class eventually, sir." And he turns to head down the twisting hallway.

→ for Galen (day 85ish)

[rigging]

It's been a stressful sort of few days, but. He's adapting. He's trying to stay away from everybody's dreams as much as possible. People have seen shit that he didn't want them to, that they had no business seeing, but what's done is done. And now there's this, Galen hovering in the doorway of the kitchen as Jesse hurricanes his way around the room, trying to keep his hands busy by cleaning. He hasn't slept much since he realized what was going on.

"Shit's private," He's saying angrily, scrubbing mercilessly at a plate. "I don't want the fucks around here just wandering in and getting a big huge look at all the shit I done. S'like hey, guess who has issues? This guy!"

[gleans]

This whole thing has everyone on edge, but none more than Jesse, it seems, and for good reason. They haven't been able to try stealing away into their own dream, yet, and Galen's still a little nervous about whether or not it might work. Still, it's obvious that Jesse needs sleep, and he needs a dream that isn't a nightmare some stranger can just walk into.

Galen leans against the doorway tiredly, watching Jesse buzz around the kitchen, listening to him rant.

"I know," he says quietly. "A lotta people have fucked up pasts, though. You'd be surprised. But -- I know, it's not right." There are some things people just shouldn't see.

[rigging]

"Yeah, I know, Galen, I know people got shitty pasts," Jesse snaps, letting the plate fall into the sink with a loud and alarming clatter. It's not broken, but the way he's angrily washing them, one might be. "Everybody's got a shitty past, everybody's got one worse than mine, but I don't give a fuck because it's my head. They don't gotta know unless I tell 'em."

Another plate clattering into the sink. The lack of sleep just works him into a frenzy. "I'd be surprised, jesus."

[gleans]

Arms crossed, Galen leans his head against the archway and closes his eyes. He knows Jesse is exhausted, and that's why he's snapping and biting like this, but that doesn't mean it isn't stressing him out. Normally he'd take Jesse by the shoulders, try to calm him down, but right now, Galen's not sure touching him is a good idea.

"I didn't -- say --" Never mind. Arguing with him is pointless. "Jess, you're just gonna burn yourself out. Can you stop slamming shit around?" Please?

[rigging]

He doesn't mean to let his stress come out this way - he shouldn't take it out on anybody - but this is vastly preferable to breaking down and crying again, in his opinion. He doesn't feel safe, is the problem.

"Already burnt out," Jesse growls, scrubbing harder. "Someone just re-lit the wick. Maybe they shouldn't have. And I ain't slamming shit around, I'm cleaning, something nobody else fucking does in this house." That is a big lie, Jesse, don't be unfair.

He won't look at Galen, his shoulders hunched up around his ears.

→ for Ghoul (day 83)

[rigging]

The woods are quiet to regular ears, but to Jesse, they're alive. Squirrels and creatures in the underbrush, tigers sniffing him as he passes but not attacking - he's firmly in the mind of the wolf, and it's okay. His senses are on all systems go and he's loving every second of it.

The forest for those who aren't Jesse, though, is distorted. Shivery. Fuzzy, like it's not all there, only half a picture. Things paint themselves into view, like the old cartoons where it's cartoon versus animator, the artist drawing in landscapes as the character walks - and then wipe clean like a slate, completely gone. Disorienting.

Jesse stands still and watches the line of spiders crawl steadily up the tree trunk, flexing his paws into the dirt. His ears flick. Someone's coming.

[tooghoulforschool]

There are too many things wrong with the surroundings for Ghoul to believe this is a dream. The vantage point is off. The landscape flickering and changing is noticeable. The setting is completely unfamiliar. There's an awareness here that he doesn't have in his own dreams, but he doesn't feel like he can control much of anything. He can't even will himself awake.

But he sees the wolf. He sees the spiders. He approaches.

Slowly, cautiously, he gets as close as he dares. Ghoul has so many questions, but a part of him knows and reminds himself that the wolf can't answer. Unfortunately, it's a part of him that he doesn't want to acknowledge in any way and the memory explaining why he knows the wolf can't answer is quelled before it can surface and make him sick. He doesn't need any more reminders. This is like a slap in the face. Seeing the wolf there, it's just a remix of his usual nighttime fare. Different angle, different spin. Different vantage point. What are the chances it has a different ending?

Probably better if he doesn't call out. He still doesn't know what the fuck is going on. He just stands there, hands in his pockets, keeping an eye on that wolf. Friend or foe? Finally gonna get your revenge, dogface? Go on. He's ready.

[rigging]

No, no revenge.

The wolf settles, sits down and stares up at the tree. The spiders move faster - there's more of them, now, swarming up the tree, frantic. The wolf seems to shudder - ripple, almost, with a soft growl, but it doesn't turn around. Doesn't seem to notice Ghoul at all, really. There's silence for what seems like hours but is only really a few seconds and then the whole dream changes, just a blink and it's different.

Jesse's standing in the middle of the clearing, staring at the tree, watching as it splits in two. A hand judders out of the bark - clutches at it, pulls the rest of its body out, jerkily. Long, stringy black hair, sharp, red eyes. Toothy smile, it's Ghoul, but wrong. Pale and too thin, the dream version of Ghoul drags itself towards Jesse, who doesn't move, just - stares.

Dream-Ghoul comes to a stop in front of Jesse. Smiles wide, eyes glinting, and wraps his arms around Jesse in a hug - hands sliding around to Jesse's back. Jesse doesn't move - and real Ghoul? Can't.

[tooghoulforschool]

He follows the wolf's line of vision, what the FUCK is up with the spiders? There's so many and they're just... the scene changes. More familiar in a way that hurts. He stays silent, stays where he is as the tree-- No. Fuck no, that's--

He tries to move as soon as he sees those eyes. That face. He struggles against invisible restraint, it's like he's paralyzed as that thing gets closer to Finch. When fighting it with everything he's got still doesn't get him moving, he gets frantic. He shouts. He screams! "JESSE! GET OUT! Get the fuck away from him!" Don't... don't let him touch you. Don't let him near you! He's gonna--

Ghoul struggles again, puts everything he's got into getting to Jesse before it happens again. Don't think he doesn't know what's coming. Don't think he doesn't dream the exact same thing over and over.

The rage flares, hits its peak, he growls out a sound that becomes a choked, strangled thing near the end, but he doesn't stop fighting it. He already looks defeated, you can see it on his face, but he doesn't stop. When he speaks again, his voice is strained and pleading, "please don't do this. Don't you dare fucking do this again!"

He can't stop it. He can't... save him. Just like he couldn't save Party or Kobra. Same shit, different enemy.

"Please."

→ for Ghoul part two (day 84)

[rigging]

In the morning, after everything, Jesse is awake. He's been awake since around six, and there's no way he's going to go to sleep again after all of that. Whatever caffiene he can get his hands on, he does, and by the end of it, he's jittery, fidgety, unable to sit still. His chest feels like it's going to cave in from all the pressure, but he knows he's needed somewhere. As much as he'd like to, Jesse can't just curl up on the couch and stare at the floor until this is all over with.

So he leaves, looking a mess, hair unbrushed and covered by a hood, circles dark under his eyes, skin pale and drawn. He goes straight to Ghoul's place, and slams his fist on the door. Knock knock, Ghoul, he needs to talk to you, because - he has the feeling that you remember everything, just like Pinkman did.

[tooghoulforschool]

Yeah? What gives you that idea? The fact that Ghoul hasn't slept since waking up in the middle of the night covered in sweat, grasping for a bleeding body that wasn't there? Ghoul's used to not sleeping much, and he doesn't fucking plan on it after that. He spent the rest of the night pacing, scribbling, and sitting alone in the empty living room with his head in his hands.

He looks about as rough as Jesse does when he opens the door in sweatpants and a mangled tank top that used to belong to a different 'joy. His expression darkens when he sees who it is. Not that he didn't know who it was before he even opened it. He presses his lips together in a tight line, looking Jesse over before nodding his head towards the living room. Let's go, handsome. Facetwins obviously got a lot to talk about. He moves towards the couch, leaving the door wide open. Close it behind you, Finch, wouldja?

Ghoul sits, scrubbing a hand over his face. He leans forward with his arms resting on his thighs, head low. "Think I know why you're here. Don't know why it happened, but I know why you're here."

[rigging]

The tattoos always get him. They're the same but not, and Jesse's eyes get stuck as Ghoul turns around and heads back into the living room. Quietly, he follows, kicking the door closed behind him, standing awkwardly by the couch, fidgeting like crazy. He can't sit still, he's - freaking out, and doing his best to try and cover it. That feeling in his chest, the pressure there, just intensifies.

"You were in my dream," Jesse says, voice sharper than he means it to be. Not angry, just - edgy. "You watched me die." Again. But that's left unsaid.

→ for Bruce (day 85ish?)

[rigging]

[greenisnteasy]

This is it; Bruce has figured out how he can keep them from taking away his funding. He moves from this decision, almost a feeling more than conscious thought, to his lab. There's a large white machine separated by a window from a desk with a few chairs. Maybe Betty's there, maybe she isn't; all Bruce knows is that there's someone over there and he cares a lot about them, trusts them enough to help him do what it takes to save the research.

He slides into the chair and nods at Jesse.

"I'm ready. Start the machine."

[rigging]

He's not - entirely sure what he's doing here. It seems right, though. He should be here. Because that's - Bruce. That's Bruce, and whatever this is, it's really important to him, and Jesse is going to make sure that it goes well. He's going to do whatever he can to help. But - it's still worrying, watching Bruce slide into the chair, because he's not sure what the end result is going to be.

Jesse grips at the machine, staring at Bruce. "You sure?" He asks, voice quiet, unsure himself. "You're real sure."

[greenisnteasy]

He's right to ask the question, and Bruce recognizes that, wishes he could get that through to the other part of him that's frustrated at the delay. He made up his mind; he'll be fine. This is what they believe in, what they've worked so hard on, and he's not going to stand by and let someone take it away from him, or let someone question how good he is, how smart he is. Ross has never been nice to him, and what has Bruce done that was so wrong? Ross will see now, won't he?

That hint of insight recedes again, and Bruce nods at Jesse.

"I'm sure. Do it."

→ for Kenzi (day 84)

[rigging]

The street is empty this time of night, but the alleyways aren't. Full of seedy, awful people, the alleyways are always a treat to walk through, especially when you're high as fuck. Enough people back here recognize him, though - from various things, all of which he has no desire to think about, so he doesn't. He's safe enough, heading to meet a few friends at the tiny nightclub around the block, hands in his pockets.

Outside the club, though, he pauses, because the smell of smoke hits him and gives him the strongest craving he's had in what feels like years. It's like he hasn't had a cigarette in a month or something. When he pats himself down, though, he's got his lighter but no pack. Shit.

Alright, cool, he'll just turn to the other people out here. The tiny goth-looking chick looks like she'd know where to get a cigarette, and he gives her an easy smile and a lazy salute. "Ay. Think I could bum a cigarette?"

Re: → for Kenzi (day 84)

[onteamdyson]

Hey, shut up, those are her people! Well... not all of them. She doesn't recognize a lot of them, actually, but she's clearly talking to a dirty-looking dude with a freakin' rat tail and a scruffy-looking dude with a terrible goatee when Jesse walks up to her. His question gets an eyebrow raise and her hands go to her hips. "Sorry, dude. I don't smoke. Also can't you seem I'm conversing here--"

She's cut off by the scruffy dude tugging on her sleeve and talking with a mouth full of hot dog, "Meow Meow, cut the shit and spot me a fifty. Least you could do since I bought dinner, I know you're good for it! Come on!"

Turning from Jesse to the other guy, she gives him one hell of a glare and knocks the hot dog out of his hand. "Screw off, Tryst. Can't you see I'm conversing here?" He stares at her, then the ground, then her, then the ground, and the second he turns away, she swiftly reaches into his back pocket and lifts his mostly-empty pack of cigarettes without him even noticing.

Aussie, the dirty-dude, laughs and tries to console the hot-dog-less Tryst while Kenzi turns back to this guy. Never seen him around here before. New to tent city--... that's where they are, aren't they? Huh. Guess not. Must have walked farther than she thought. Whatever. She hands him the pack with a smile. "On the house, dude."

[rigging]

Rat tails are so gross, Jesse thinks idly as he watches the exchange, half grinning in amusement. Meow Meow. Okay, that's a name, Jesse guesses - not like he has any room to judge. It just makes him laugh a little, if only because he's high as balls. But whatever, she gets him those cigarettes and he sighs happily, grabbing for them and sticking one right in his mouth immediately so he can light it.

And once he's got it, once he's slumped against the building and blowing smoke out into the air, he grins at her, fully this time.

"Ay. Thanks, ladyface. Real nice'a you. Uh - Meow Meow." Giggle.

[onteamdyson]

Holy wow he has a nice smile-- UH, NO. EXCUSE YOU. She points a finger in his face, "It's Kenzi. Unless you're in an super-elite group with very specific membership, you can call me Kenzi."

Don't laugh at her totally tough and awesome street name that she came up with when she was in her teens! It was a good idea at the time!

"Normally, you'd totes owe me, but I'm making an exception. Don't ruin it by being a jerk!"