kore_logs | dreams are like...no. no they're not.

It's never a good thing when you walk into a bathroom and the walls and ceiling shake. It's a low rumble, like the sounds of footsteps a few stories up, but of something that's large enough to shake the entire castle. Castle, yes, because you're at school. Don't you remember? You're at school and something is happening and it's very important that you and your best friend get in.

In where, you may ask?

"Fiddlesticks!" Which really isn't as strong as a curse word that Charlie would like to use, but you're supposed to be twelve here. Supposed to be, but not, so maybe act kind of the part and not curse to high heavens. Charlie's bent over what should be a sink, but it's also not really a sink because that's not really a mirror or a wall behind it. It's a massive computer screen, and Charlie is bent over a keyboard, typing away like her life depends on it. Like both of your lives depend on it, because they kind of do. Code appears and disappears just as quickly up on the large wall-sized computer screen above you, but the only words you can make out are 'ACCESS: DENIED' over and over again.

Somewhere, over the rumble of footsteps, you can hear Dick Roman's voice. "Charlie! Oh Charlie." And Charlie squeaks a little, types a little faster. "This would be so much easier if it was just parseltongue..."

You know that one speech we all wish we could make? Well, Charlie's in the midst of her's right now. It's not long, it's not terribly impressive, but as she rides her horse from one end of her battle lines to the next, she says it with pride. Sure, the armies of Sauron are marching towards her, towards them all, but she is so filled with inspiration and power she couldn't even care. Doesn't notice that as the large, terrifyingly dangerous army marches closer, her army starts to shift. Starts to lose height, armor. Doesn't notice that one minute, where she'd been looking at an entire army of able-bodied warriors, now stands about twenty or thirty of her friends from Moondoor.

The enemy hasn't changed. No, they're all still marching. Still on horseback, and their eyes are all black. Black and blue and red, demons and djinns and whatever monster has red glowing eyes because Charlie can't be bothered to remember what they are now. There are leviathans there too, with their creepy circular heads and rows of teeth and wow, okay. Maybe this isn't such a good idea. Maybe she is starting to notice that the really big eye looking down at her? Looks a lot like Dick Roman's eye. But she's trying. Even as her horse is suddenly not there and her armor is back to cardboard.

"I bid you stand! Men and women of the..." Wow, were there that many of them before? Were they really that close? "West?"

So you know that nightmare about showing up to school in your underwear because you were so nervous you forgot o put clothes on? That's what Charlie is feeling right now, except minus the nakedness. She's got clothes on - her pajamas, but hey, it's something - and there are people rushing by her. Last time this happened she was at Comic Con, and they'd just opened the doors to the Exhibition Hall on the first day. Except everyone was moving forward, and they definitely weren't...scared?

"Uh- hello?" And then there's Charlie, standing like a rock in a flood, watching all these people move past her. She's got her stuffed R2D2 which she hasn't had since she was fourteen and she can't quite make out their faces. Anyone's faces. But the feeling of something being totally off and wrong hangs in the air. When she looks up, she sees buildings made of crystals and sky, but that fear doesn't go away. "Anyone wanna clue me in? Hello?"

The issue with this dream that Charlie has, more than the fact this has been a reoccurring nightmare since she was twelve, is that she got over this. She had her Winchester Therapy, she let go and felt the pain that went along with it, the fear and the knowledge that she was doing it, she was letting them go, and it was done. This should have been over.

But as of right now? She's balled up in the corner, clutching her gun and her knees to her chest, because this hospital room? Is definitely the same one from that nightmare. Only it's about three hundred times more crowded, with beds on beds on beds filled with people she recognizes. All of them. Every single person she has ever met or ever lied to or ever cared about, all here. The room stretches on and on and she can't even see the end, but that much doesn't really matter. Not when she can hear the banging of the monsters from every wall. Every direction.

She closes her eyes and mumbles to herself, trying to keep breathing. "Just let go just let go just let go..."

Wow... this is different. Definitely not one of Meg's usual dreams. Somehow everything feels wrong. Shouldn't she be with the other black eyes? No, no. She's much better with the non-black eyes because those black eyes are probably going to get slain in very painful ways. Then again, there are an awful lot more of them than there are of the little wimpy heroes. Oh god. Is this a suicide mission? It's a suicide mission, right? Great. Just like real life.

Why does she always find herself helping the good guys? Ugh. Please wait while she pukes up in her mouth a little.

"Pretty sure it's a dream, sweetheart."

If he sounds grumpy, that's because he is. For someone who doesn't like having to sleep in the first place, he's ended up passing out and ending up in an awful lot of people's dreams recently. He's not ended up in this city in anyone else's dreams, though, only in his own - there have been other people there, on occasion, but he prefers to stay away, because (as mentioned) he is essentially a humanoid version of Grumpy Cat right now. The only reason he's talking to Charlie is that she's scared and vulnerable and in pajamas and has a stuffed R2D2. He's not planning to be a total asshole, but being around people more miserable than he is makes him feel better. That, and the stuffed R2D2 is hella cool.

Hell year that stuffed R2D2 is hella cool.

But the whole dream bit confuses Charlie, because she doesn't have many dreams. And the few she does have are so steeped in her subconscious that she can usually recognize at least some of the references. But this? This is something completely new.

"Which would explain why you're here." Not that she doesn't love your company, Gabe, she's just not too jazzed about how people being in her head is suddenly much more of a thing than it was a month ago. But those people? Slash not people? Are slowly starting to freak her out more and more. "So is this mine or yours? Because I have...no idea what's happening."

Wait, wait a second. That is not one of her LARPers. That girl right there? She's definitely never seen before, but Charlie still feels like she should be there in the ranks. Even if her head is beeping with so many flashing red lights it's hard to even stay up on her horse.

"Meg?"

She's a demon. Why is she here? And not- Charlie looks over her shoulder across the slowly advancing forces of Sauron's army. Her chest tightens a little with fear but she keeps her head strong. Be Aragorn. Even if...she suddenly has a demon in her army. Right, should probably ask about that.

"Uh, are actually going to fight, or-?"

Hey, not all demons are cookie cutter replicas of each other. Jeez. She's here risking her ass and possibly on the verge of getting slaughter in the name of short fat midgets, but no, the only thing that matters to people is the fact she's a demon. Charming.

"After that speech? Would be rude to run out on the squishy fragile heroes now." She arches a brow. "I might flee if things take a nosedive."

"Neither. Both."

He shrugs, apparently entirely unfazed by this, and his appearance shifts suddenly - lightsaber pajamas, in solidarity. He doesn't bother changing his clothes to sleep. He doesn't have any warning this time around, he just falls over, more or less, and as such (and because wardrobe changes aren't really a thing, for angels) he'd appeared in his normal clothes. Part of him is being polite, but mostly - well, he's never really had pajamas. He thinks they look neat.

"It's nothing specific to anyone in particular. Might be to do with who or whatever's causing this. Either way, it's weird as fuck and waaaay too Twilight Zone for my tastes, but hey. It hasn't killed anyone yet, so it could be a lot worse."

There's not Raphael's normal mode of dress, but it is at least it's fitting for Charlie's dream - complete with wing insignia on his uniform. Although luckily, Raphael's own burdens haven't joined yet.

"What is this?"

He had been trying to track something and clearly hand been lost.

Apparently. Charlie's starting to get the feeling she really should have read those Supernatural books a little more closely because this Meg? Not fitting with her mental image. But she's not going to complain, especially since that line of monsters and demons are getting very very close.

So Charlie just moves to stand next to her, setting her feet for battle. They can do this yes they can. "Well I'm glad you're not going to be rude." Squishy fragile heroes and all. "But uh, guessing this was that dream walking everyone talked about?"

When she hears his voice, she jumps. Mostly because she's not expecting anyone's voice but also not one she doesn't recognize. Maybe a Dream Dean to talk her back into the land of the living, or even Hermione to convince her she's being dumb and can't just hide like this. But G.I. Raphael? Not one of those voices. So there's a jump and a squeak and she only cracks an eye open because she doesn't know if she should be expecting a zombie or not.

And when there's no zombie, she relaxes a little.

"What is what?"

She doesn't notice the pajama shift until a moment later, after he's changed completely and she starts feeling a little less awkward and a little more like they're at some really strange sleepover party. Charlie looks down, then back up, before giving a sage little approving nod. She approves, very much so.

"So this would be the part where we turn into Batman and Robin and figure out who drugged us all into a single, really really weird, dream? Because I'd like to avoid dying. Or, you know, spilling my deepest darkest secrets to Contestant Number Two."

Do the books go as far into the story as to give details of her having an angel slam her into a wall and ram his tongue down her throat? Or their little roleplay adventures of crazy patient and sexy nurse? Apparently when you spend a lot of time around Cas it kind of softens the edges and apparently wanting to stay near to Cas means playing nice with his pet humans.

Not to mention the sex with Dean was kind of amazing...

When is she ever rude? "Dream walking. Gotta love it. Let's hope they don't have the whole Freddy Krueger thing going on. Kinda wanna wake up in the morning."

Guess who has never read any of the Harry Potter books. As such, the giant computer screen is really the most familiar thing about in this room and the first thing that his eye is drawn to. That is, until the weird disembodied voice pipes up...over loudspeakers? He's going to guess there's some speakers somewhere he can't see.

And the girl. Woman? He's having trouble deciding which. But she's definitely not going to enter the right code in time. "Have you tried password? How about a suffusion of yellow? Really, this is the time the sane people run away, I hope you know."

"Well, if you've got any good secrets to spill, feel free to go ahead. Don't hold back on my account - it'll be like I'm not even here."

As for whose doing it is, well, that's something he's been trying to figure out himself (with very little success). The apparent range of the problem and the fact that even the archangels are affected suggest it's someone external to their community, but that's only a probability.

"Whoever brought us here, they do like to pull shit like this now and then, and they oughtta be the only people here capable of pulling this off. Personally, though? I'm hoping this call's coming from inside the house. At least that way whoever's responsible can get what's coming to them."

"Mostly just passwords and things I'd rather keep to myself. Don't know how much you'd be interested in a Guild Wars account here."

See, Gabe, this is why she likes you. You've actually got some really great answers that leave her feeling a lot less like she knows absolutely nothing. Which she kind of does still feel that way, but he makes her feel less so.

"Dream shit now and then or just hoodoo voodoo play with your mind shit?" But wait, that makes her give him a confused look. "What do you mean?"

Really Meg even Charlie's subconscious third person thinks that's quite enough. But hey, if it keeps her from being killed, she can be a-okay with it all.

"You mean you don't know?" And that right there? Actual fear on her face. Especially when she looks back out at the advancing forces. "This could be it?"

"Sorry, must've dozed through Dream 411. But yeah. Knowing our neighbourhood scientists this could well be death by dreaming. Or maybe we're not dreaming at all and this is some kind of parallel world. Either way, I suggest trying to stay alive."

You know, just in case.

Are you questioning her, good sir? Because Charlie doesn't take very kindly to that, if the glare she shoots him is anything to go by. "They're not lazy." And then she's back to it, typing away even faster if she could. They have to get so they-

Uh.

They just have to get in. As quickly as possible. "Sane, maybe, but we can't leave now or everyone will die. 'sides, I've almost..." Suddenly the screen goes dark, before it creates the picture of a door that slowly opens up towards them. Charlie grins a bit triumphantly to herself before finally turning to look at him and...yeah. No recognition whatsoever. "Uh...who are you?"

"A Guild Wars account? Please. Of course I would. There's nothing I like more than the heated political battles of the trade union."

Which is to say that he has no clue what Guild Wars is, least of all what its appeal might be. His pop culture databank may be almost worryingly comprehensive, but when it comes to gaming knowledge he's got more in common with his brothers than with Charlie.

"General fucking with your head shit. Hallucinogens, species swaps, you know, the usual. And what I mean is that this shit might not be our generous benefactors. Could be one of the folks stuck here - a double agent or just a pissed off inmate. I'm hoping for it. People in here with us are a lot easier to kick the crap out of than people out there, y'know?"

"As much as I would like to be indirectly responsible for the collapse of an online economy, I'm going to have to put a big X on that one."

Hey, it passed enough for Charlie. She doesn't expect everyone she meets to have the same pop-culture database as she does. Especially seeing as her's tends to be a little more centered on things she can find and do online. You know, keeping your head low and out of direct line of fire?

"Ah. Good. So it's like someone spiked the punch at comic-con all over again."

While she is more right than Charlie would even like to admit, the thought isn't very helpful. When we die in a dream we- DO SOMETHING OTHER THAN WAKE UP because of certain characters in this game. And are you seeing the same thing she is, Meg? Because that wall of demons and monsters and leviathans? Gonna be a little more difficult than stay alive.

"So...plan?"

"Plan? I thought the plan way staying alive? Take off as many heads as you can and try not to get eaten or have your spine snapped in two."

Hey, lady. You gave the Aragorn speech! That makes you the leader! Still, being the good little demon that Meg is, she lifts her hand, flicks her wrist and sends a line of demons flying like squishy dominoes.

dreams are like...no. no they're not.

Chamber of Leviathans

Lord of the LARPers

City Dream

Again with the Zombies?

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City Dream

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Poor Charlie

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sobbing tbh

*yeah oh my god that was embarrassing

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