It's where my demons hide, oh it's where my demons hide.

[sphererpmod]

Who: Everyone
What: The August nightmare log.
When: August 13->28th
Where: All over.
Notes: Please check the plotting/notes for the plot and it's specific timing here! Also please run things by other players if you're doing them!
Warnings: Demons, creepiness, possession.

August Nightmare Log: Demons

Days 1-3

Like so many bad things, this nightmare starts in the middle of the night. It starts with the sensation that the private domes and moves outwards from there. For the first two-three days of the nightmare, you experience the sensation of being watched, even if (especially if) you happen to be alone in the space. As the feeling intensifies, characters see things out of the corners of their vision, and if they turn around, or look quickly, whatever they thought they saw is definitely not there. The things that they see are nothing more than vague shadows that could be anyone (anything) but if there ever was it’s gone when they look. As the times progress, people start to hear whisperings in guttral, perhaps dead languages but the sound is too faint for anyone with the ability to speak them to hear. It’s mostly just gibberish whispering from far away.

On the third night, something new comes along. It’s a discordant sound that has no natural reference. It’s frightening, but also beautiful somehow in it’s sound. If nothing else, it’s definitely interesting. Of course it probably gets less interesting and more annoying the longer it goes on, or if you happen to know just what exactly it is. However, the sound of it ushers something new with it on day four.

Days 5-10

Between days four and ten, the Unsound has done what it’s supposed to do, allegedly and it’s begun to summon demons into the Sphere domes that are affected with the nightmare. During the day, the Tall Pauls are more shadow than anything else, but at night they solidify. They solidify and become more frightening. For the most part, all they do is watch. Tall Pauls are described as: looking like a gnarled tree made of shadow, with large and hungry of eyes, and the twisting length of its too long arms and branch-like fingers and the crazed over-sized smile. (Basically? Slenderman. We’re kinda talking Slenderman here only with a face.) They will watch, they will loom and they will terrify and fed off that sort of fear. Tall Pauls only wanna be your friend, and sacrifice you when your ready for it! Hopefully it won’t get to the point where you’re ready for it.

Tall Pauls will particularly bother sleeping people, children and those who have seen demons before, or those with the magical ability to shove them away. Go nuts.

Night of the Tenth Day->Day 14

Beginning on the night of the Tenth day and running til the fourteenth the Tall Pauls will be joined by their more terrible cousin: The Helvation. The Helvation is described as: “It's tall, hunched and black with gnarled teeth and hair. It looks old, ancient, as it slowly tilts its head the children finally see it, drop the camera and scream. And I don't know why I didn't notice this when I first viewed the tape. Perhaps I was tired, maybe I was asleep, but the creature... it looked like one that appeared in my dream last year, one that stood at the side of my bed” With the further description of the demon in her nightmare, edited for content (dream animal death). “And there was this woman standing at the end of my bed, she had long black hair and she was hunched over. But when she turned to face me, I could see that she had this crazy maniacal smile on her face. A twisted smile that literally stretched from ear to ear as if she had no cheeks, just this mouth - a dark mouth. [...] I wanted to scream but my voice was stuck in my chest. And it looked like the woman was laughing, her shoulders were going up and down. That smile…

“But all I could hear was a baby crying. I realized she wasn't laughing, she- she was changing into something bigger. Something wet and dark and horrible was coming. And this time, it wasn't coming from under the bed. It was coming from within the old woman. She- she turned and started crawling up onto my bed. Hitting me beneath the covers, my arms to my sides. Like I couldn't move. Her mouth opened wide, peeling back and the- the dark thing started to crawl out of the old woman. And I knew with absolute certainty that once it left the old woman, it was going to enter me.”

The Helvation will start by being creepy, doing what the Tall Pauls did times a thousand. However, it’s more violent in what it does. And it’s goal is the possession of the character. However, no more than one person may be possessed in a scene due to the nature of the singlar Helvation. Fighting off the demonic possession is going to be extremely difficult, and only possible for those with magical or psychic abilities or those who are divine. However, even that fighting should only be partial, as the demon is fed by the ability of the Sphere. No one should be possessed the entire last four days, and removing someone from the affected areas will definitely remove the possession. However, the possessed can use the network if the player is so inclined.

Any personal abilities that characters have are turned off by the demon, instead leaving them with super strength and telepathy is based particularly about character’s guilt and things that are in their pasts. (This is something else that players choosing to do this scene should talk about in advance. It can be feelings of guilt or history of the person possessed, just spilling the character’s own guts as it were, or surface reading from a second party.)

photo inspiration

Comments

CW for mentions of blood and death in Days 10-14

[10milliondollars]

A. Days 1-3

Rhys is alone in his dorm when he first feels uncomfortable. It's as if he's being watched, though it's distinctly different from when he'd lived under Hyperion's surveillance cameras aboard Helios. It's not bad enough to disturb him the first night, but on the second night, he starts seeing things. Shadows in the corners of his eyes. Vaguely creepy things that have him stepping out to stretch his legs. He's walking more briskly than usual, should anyone encounter him in the halls.

When the sound starts up on the third night, he's wandering the market. It's subtle, at first, but as it continues to drone on, he begins to become agitated. Finally, he turns to the nearest person and asks, "Do you hear that? Please tell me you hear that."

B. Days 4-10

On the fourth night, Rhys wakes up to see a tall, slender shadow lurking in the corner, staring intently at him. He shrieks, loud enough for anyone in the personal rooms 203 or 205 to hear. The thing doesn't seem to care, continuing to grin at him. There's no way he's sleeping with that in his room. He gets up and shuffles about, keeping an eye on it as he pulls his sweatpants on. Once he's dressed, he heads out of his room and makes a bee-line for his shop.

The following nights get worse. He's losing sleep. Coffee barely helps. He's lucky to catch an hour or two of sleep. And he knows just the person to go to about it.

It's day 9 when he finally decides to pay Alex a visit, knocking on her and Richard's door frantically.

C. Days 10-14

The tenth night is when Rhys has the nightmare. It starts with him waking up in Handsome Jack's office, sitting in the big yellow chair behind the desk. There's a horrible, mocking laughter echoing through the office. Jack's face takes up every screen in the room, twisted in maniacal laughter. Rhys is trapped in the chair, restraints wrapped tightly around his chest and wrists. The AI's cackling is deafening. The door to the office hisses open and an unmistakable silhouette stands there.

He wakes up in a cold sweat, with words echoing in his head, "Their blood's on your hands, princess."

The nightmare repeats itself the eleventh night, with the cackling from the AI accompanied by the screams of those that perished in the space station's crash.

The twelfth night is when it happens. Rhys wakes up from the nightmare to find a blood-covered Handsome Jack standing over his bed. The man climbs atop him, trapping Rhys, even though he couldn't move anyways. He's frozen, limbs ignoring his impulse to shove, to move, to run. Jack's mouth splits open wide, beginning to peel back, and something dark pours out from him. There's no resisting it. It forces its way inside.

Shortly after that, a short audio post is broadcast to the network. It's Rhys's voice, but there's definitely something wrong about it.

Audio | UN: RighteousFather
"It's my fault. I brought down Helios with no thought to the lives aboard. Their blood is on my hands."

[11calls]

Alex doesn't look particularly good when she answers the door on day nine. Her skin is pale, and the shadows below her eyes look more like bruises than anything else. There's a haunted look there, all worn and wan in her and she just swallows when she opens the door to the frantic knock. Honestly, she's been expecting it more than a little bit since the first notes of the Unsound had started kicking in, and now she's really not surprised that someone's connected her with what's going on. (Well, them with what's going on, but it's very Alex to take all of the blame herself.)

"Hi." Her voice is soft and flat, missing most of the rich and cool tones that normally come along with it. Alex doesn't even bother to make the effort to smile--she knows what it would look like to do so, and it's not worth having to explain. So instead, Alex just takes a step back to let Rhys come in without waiting for him to say anything. Fortunately, the dome that she and Richard share isn't effected. For the moment anyway, which is a good thing.

[10milliondollars]

Rhys looks rough, his typically gelled-back hair a mess, dark bags under his eyes, the whites bloodshot. He's a little relieved to see Alex. He steps in cautiously, peeking past her to make sure the tall things aren't here. Satisfied that they're not, he flops down on the couch.

"Look, by now, I know the Sphere's throwing nightmares at us, but this one is just too weird. First, it was just hard to sleep, then there was that...th-that noise, and now there are these things in my room! I can't sleep, I hardly eat, and I'm always watching over my shoulder to make sure they're not following me." He looks up at her, running his natural hand through his hair. "I feel like they know something, something bad."

Audio un;defrag

[blindpuppet]

Rhys?

That- that can't be true.

[She'd seen his good qualities but not as many as his bad ones before now and she isn't sure what to do with this information except deny it.]

Audio

[10milliondollars]

It is. I used my stun baton to overload the power core. That sent the station plummeting to Pandora's surface.

[His voice is oddly cold and monotonous, a stark contrast to his usually peppy--if awkward--conversations with Enis.]

Audio | UN: thegrifter

[thegrifter]

Yeah? How many more lives did it save?

Audio

[10milliondollars]

Is that relevant when the lives that were saved were also displaced from their home? Left stranded in an unforgiving desert with nothing but the wreckage of that station for shelter? [He scoffs.]

Those that survived were abandoned to the bloodthirsty beasts of Pandora. I even left my best friend behind.

[11calls]

Days 1-3

This all of this is something that's devastatingly familiar to Alex. She'd thought that she'd gotten over the worst of feeling like this. Even when she'd been abducted, even when she'd died and even when there'd been the skeletons she'd not fallen back into such familiar patterns. Alex was blaming it on the arrival of her black tape on the network, because she's not been sleeping since then, but if there's one thing that she knows, it's how long that she can push that lack of sleeping before things like this start happening, and it's definitely not been anywhere near long enough, or she's been lacking in it enough to have this. But there's shadows in the corners of her eyes, and there's whispers around her, and Alex can't help but to be jumpy at the smallest sound.

After the third day, Alex doesn't even bother to try and sleep; she knows better. So, she's headed from the merchant dome to her own holding the largest size cup of coffee the cafe has when she hears the sound of the unsound ringing out around her. With her eyes going wide, Alex just lets out an audible gasp before she drops the cup from suddenly boneless fingertips.

Days 5-10

For the longest time, Alex Reagan didn't actually believe in hell. Hell, she'd always supposed was other people, or something like that. But right now, with too little sleep and too many demons, Alex is damned near convinced that this may actually be hell. Or at least this is what her hell is like. Oh, she knows that it's just the Sphere and as soon as she starts to feel the familiar creeping between her shoulder blades, she starts to try and get the hell out of whatever dome she's in (something that has led to more than one embarrassing moment of Alex being outside of her dome in her silly pajamas or wearing one of Richard's shirts which is large enough to be a dress on her anyway) but the moments when she's not quick enough, or when there's just too much of the dome are the worst. There's a guilt for Simon compounded with the fact that these are some of her worst nightmares coming to light, and fighting one is hard enough but fighting both is damned near impossible.

So, more than once, Alex just ends up sitting outside of a dome with her knees pulled to her chest and her arms wrapped around then, with her face pressed to the tops of them. Her breathe comes in sharp and harsh panicked gulps, even as she tries to do the squared breathing that Dr. Bernier told her to do when she was having a panic attack. This is a panic attack and Alex knows it. Apophenia, is what she would have said before when she was having one, but no matter how real or not real (real) they are at home, the Sphere has taken this memory from her and twisted it into something real.

5-10

[lovelylaica]

It is strange how it's something of a comfort to Laica to actually see the demons. They don't look like the demons she knows, they don't try to speak to her. To tempt her. To promise her whatever her deep heart's desire is in exchange for a simple favor, just this one thing she and she alone can do for them.

It's easier to keep vigilant against whatever these spindly creatures are. The ones not attracted to her magic, not trying to inhabit her body and twist her into some abomination wreaking havoc on those she loves. Staying on alert is wearying, though. She's noticed it affects others more than her. Perhaps these demons seek something other than magic, something they have. Her heart aches for their plight, and she starts to patrol the halls in the night, seeking those who might need help defending themselves against the onslaught.

It's the least she can do.

It is on one such patrol she comes across a dark-haired woman clearly suffering from the ordeal. She crouches next to her, touches her shoulder gently. "Hello, darling. You look like you could use a bit of tea and company, eh?"

[11calls]

When the woman touches her, Alex's starts. She can't help it; she's too much on edge with everything else that has been going on. Her nerve endings are too raw, and this demon touch is another slide of them against the cheese grater of her own mind and memories. Alex's skin is pale, and she swallows, and she can feel her pulse in her ears as she lets the imagine of this blond woman swim into her vision, and she is a woman and not a Tall Paul. It takes a second for Alex's face to remember how to form into some sort of specter of a polite smile, even if it's lopsided, and she realized that the woman had spoken to her.

"Sorry." The word comes quickly, but it's a single loaded syllable, because Alex's apologizing for more than just her response to something as innocuous as the hand touching her shoulder. This, all of this is Alex's fault and she can't help but taking the blame for it, even when it's not something that anyone is offering to her. At least, not yet, but given time and how long it might take for them to go away? It's something that Alex is preparing for. "Sure. Some tea would be nice." What Alex actually means though, is coffee and a shit ton of it. "I'm Alex."

[doubled_speed]

A. Days 1-3

Nights are already bad enough, without all of this. There were already plenty of nights with nightmares, more now since his fucking memories of the Shepherds were just out there for everyone to see. Of course the nightmares he's used to are about his parents, or his teammates, or what he saw in the warehouse, or about juvie. Tonight? That isn't what wakes him up now. No, what's got him now is creepy sensations, and there isn't anyone in his room. Tommy knows because he locks the damn thing. Sleeping with the lights on doesn't help either. Which means by tonight, the second night, sleep's pretty much abandoned for a bit. At least in bed. Instead he races the domes at speed until his body can't take anymore before collapsing just about anywhere he can find. Though usually high up.

There is safety in heights.

And if he's nodding off at work or during the day, who in the world is going to notice, given he's back awake and attentive in nanoseconds, hiding everything but his bloodshot eyes.

"I just ran out of eyedrops and left my goggles back in my dome," he insists when asked. It isn't your business anyway.

B. Day 11 (Closed to Bev)

The problem is that even Tommy can't live without sleep this long. Cat naps snatched up trees and behind buildings and even sneaking into his mother and grandfather's space and sleeping in an out of the way corner to try and not disturb them, managing a whole half hour, well, it's not enough. None of it is enough. And really, beyond the creepy, eerie presence, is it really all that bad? Exhausted and alone he collapses into his bed after a shower. And Tommy? Even he's not fast enough to wake and get away when something terrible is there above him. Which is impressive, because he's fast enough to wake and get away from anything.

You are like us, he thinks he hears it saying, hissing as a hand closes over his mouth to keep from screaming.

The rest is a blur, really. Except not, because he can't go fast. No, he moves slowly, deliberately out of his dome and through the streets, laughing. Laughing and lashing out, striking anything in nearby reach.

"It's my nature after all," Tommy says, his voice crackling with malice. "What I always wanted. What I was meant to be."

C. Day 12

It takes time to recover from how the thing left him, Tommy shaking and refusing to go anywhere near where the demon might be. Nothing like being reminded that your soul comes from demonic origins in a very real, very terrifying way.

At least Billy didn't have to experience it he thinks to himself as he doesn't sleep that night. At least it can't stick around forever, right?

What does he know?

It's cowardly to hide. It isn't the hero thing to do. He should be out there, fighting the thing, keeping it away from people, helping those that might get possessed. What he really needs, though, is a good kick in the rear to get him out of his self-loathing.

A

[ihadstrings]

Ultron can be thankful for once he doesn't sleep. Sure, he's had the paranoia for the past two days of thinking someone is watching him, but his sensors aren't picking anything up, so logically there must be nothing there.

Apparently it's not quite the same for the human beings around the place. Ultron's staying quiet late at night as a courtesy to Wanda since she already went to bed. He really needs to get some books or something to do in the middle of the night. His head snaps up as his vision catches sight of a whitish blur coming in through the door. His processor slows it down enough in a nanosecond so that he can see it's Tommy. He looks shaken up too.

He gets up, approaching the exhausted-looking teen. "What's wrong, kid?" For once, Ultron sounds almost concerned about someone other then himself.

[doubled_speed]

Oh, right. Sometimes Tommy just forgets that a) his grandfather lives here now, and b) the guy has no reason to sleep. Which he would mention, but he's so tired and his legs? Actually shaking even though he's standing still. His whole body is shaking, not vibrating, not conscious and willful, just the sort of quaking a body gets to when it can barely stand.

"Didn't think anyone would be up. Sorry. I can go."

Ultron doesn't care, of course he wouldn't. Find somewhere else. Just needs ten minutes.

[gristle]

Bev knows that this isn't Tommy. Whatever else is going on, this isn't him. He's going too damned slow for one thing, and his voice doesn't sound right. Also, Tommy would never end up attacking people who were innocent, she knows that more than anything else. So, she's small, but she's been training with people who aren't. And so she's quick and able to dodge when he's striking out at people. Despite that, her skin is pale with fear and with worry for him. She's not afraid of him, but she definitely is afraid for him for when this is all over.

"No it's not." Beverly's voice is soft and insistent, "I know you Tommy, and that's not you. Get the hell out of him!" It's an order, as much as she can make it one. "You're a nightmare, you're not even real. Get the hell out of my friend."

Night of the 11th - Closed to Wanda

[doubled_speed]

He feels so weak, when it's all done. When he wants to collapse and refuses to admit he needs to sleep again. His whole body is shaking. Wants to fall over. But he asks to get home. And by home, he means to the only place he's felt safe during all of this. Not his own dome. No, Wanda and Ultron's, where he's taken to sneaking in and grabbing a few minutes to an hour of sleep under his grandfather's watchful eyes.

Except Ultron isn't in this time, Tommy can tell. There's this really specific sort of background noise that comes with his grandfather, and he can't hear it.

"Anyone home?" he asks, because in for a penny, in for a pound. Or whatever it's supposed to be. "Grampsbot 3000?"

[gristle]

Days 1-3
Bev hasn't been sleeping any easier than anyone else has been, not really. The feeling of the demons against her skin is a familiar sensation, even if it's been more than a year since she'd last been in Derry with IT stalking the town as a demon of it's own. Still, she's trying to keep a good face on it, that it doesn't bother her, that there's nothing wrong with the whole constantly feeling eyes on you thing. It's definitely entirely really fine, even though it definitely entirely and really isn't.

Still, Beverly is definitely more openly armed than she normally is. Oh, she's always got a few knives somewhere on her person, but now they're more openly shown, directly at her belt rather than in places like her socks. It's probably not a good sign, but it makes her feel better and that's all that matters.

Days 5-10

Bev's paranoia level is on high alert now, and she's taken to just being moving as constantly as she can. If she's moving, then it's impossible for her to be stuck with the demons all of the time. Of course, this means that she's sleeping very little, and is irritated, bitey and a more than a little bit grumpy. Basically, all of her worst personality traits are on display. Still, she's trying to be as normal as she can: going to the training she does, going to school and basically being herself, even if her weapons and claws are fully on display.

day 2-ish

[minus1twin]

"How are you holding up?"

Wanda knew that she wasn't the only one who was being affected. It was all over the domes and around the second day she was noticing the signs that came along with a lack of sleep: tension, snappiness, caffeine. Everyone was finding ways to cope and no way was any easier or any better than the last.

Bev was strong, Wanda knew that, but being strong didn't make anything any easier.

Angel [Open] Day 5-10

[unknownmoirai]

"Hello?" She called down one of the affected halls but there was no reply back at her.

The dome was darkening, going from day to night, and she was running out of time. She drew a piece of white chalk from the pocket of her pink dress and knelt in the middle of the hallway. She was so focused on her task that Inësa didn't notice the long slender figure that appeared out of the dark shadows that danced across the walls. It watched her as she worked, drawing angelic symbols onto the floor.

She made a large sweeping circle that encompassed the symbols and herself before looking up. It was then that she saw the tall eyeless creature standing before her. It was nearly in her circle...

"Apila ad'agite zomdv ag ne aala"

Inësa chanted the unfamiliar language and the creature seemed to twitch from the sound. It stepped towards her, its long fingers looking daunting as the soft light gleams off their now sharp edges. "Return home." She whispered softly. "Through the gate. I'll open the way." Her magic sparked and then the circle glowed, sending her back and slamming her into the wall.

Then the entire hallways went dark and all she could hear was her breathing.

[ooc: feel free to run into her at any point during this process. her magic backfires a little...]

[whiteroadrunning]

Alec couldn't see a damned thing, and perhaps that was just as well. These things were a nightmare, but logic didn't seem to palliate the terror Alec felt each time he saw them. It was something visceral, some animal compulsion to get away, because something was simply not right.

It was precisely that compulsion that drove him to carry his bow and quiver until the nightmare was over. Because even if running didn't work, he didn't intend to go down without a fight.

An arrow was nocked when he rounded the corner, and while he hadn't fully expected to see Inësa within the soft glow down the hall, it didn't entirely surprise him. Didn't stop his panic when the creature neared her either. Alec breathed deeply, and let the arrow fly true on his exhale, flying directly between its eyes.

But he didn't wait to see if it found its quarry. The moment Inësa was blown back, Alec ran to her. At least, he thought it was where she landed. He felt through the darkness until his hand closed around her wrist, and he tugged gently.

"Inësa, it's me," there was a note of urgency in his tone. "Can you stand? We need to move, now."

Enis Edrin; Open

[blindpuppet]

Day 1-3; Dorm 1 - Sleepless

Enis didn't sleep. She sometimes laid in bed and closed her eyes but she never dreamed or slipped into the comforting embrace of slumber. Whatever her father had done to her it had eradicated the need for her to sleep as well as the capability. It was something she missed but she tried to find away around that, by listening and composing music. It didn't help every night but it was enough to keep her sanity in check.

That was before.

She didn't know what it was but she continued to pull off her headphones and glare at the shadows. There was something watching them, all of them. Or maybe it was all in her head? It couldn't be. Logically it made no sense.

Then Enis heard the unsound on that final night. It crept up her spine and knotted uncomfortably in her stomach. She didn't hate the sound. It was interesting and no unlike music she'd created herself but there was something in its notes that was unsettling. "What is that?" She mumbled the words in a soft whisper, expecting the rest of the dorm to be asleep.

Day 5-10; Everywhere - Haunted

Enis tried to continue her days like always. She went to work in the market dome, picked up food and returned to her dorm. She worked on her projects and spent a lot of time staring at her laptop but there was something uncomfortable about it all, like a shadow following behind her.

It wasn't every day but it was enough to make even her uncomfortable.

Then one night she saw them. She'd been walking home late from work when the tall slender figure came into view. She wasn't scared but she stopped walking and merely stared at the lanky figure.

"What do you want?"

Of course, it didn't reply.

Day 9-14; Closed to Cole - Possessing

Enis wasn't asleep. Maybe it would have been better if she was. Maybe she wouldn't have realized that there was something in their dorm, stalking between the beds and looking for its next pray.

It had stopped in front of someone else's bed first and stupidly, Enis couldn't stop herself from speaking up. "Get away from them." Her voice was more confident then she felt and loud enough to wake those asleep in the dorm. The creatures head snapped towards her and it's jaw opened, its smile stretched between either side of its head like a horrifying children's drawing.

"Fuck. Fuck fuck." She jumped out of bed and nearly fell into the bed next to hers in an attempt to get away.

[ooc: I'd like one person to run into Enis possessed but since it can only happen once I wasn't sure. hit me up if you wanna do that.]

9-14

[thegrifter]

Cole's kept himself pretty busy around the Sphere, even before things went all to hell. Literally. He'd found an old pistol in an abandoned dome, and enough rounds that he could make it count, damn if he wasn't happy to have it with him now. He slept with it under his pillow, when he slept that is, and it was her words that woke him. His latent telepathy warned him they weren't alone, that the others were gone but there was something...else.

Which was great, because it meant he could aim at it without seeing it. Instinct had him wrap an arm around her as Enis found her way into his bed, pivoting and putting his body between hers and whatever was lolling menacingly at her. He reached under his pillow and turned, though the beast was upon them. Fortunate, really, It meant it might do more damage.

And then he squeezed. The old revolver barked so loudly they'd both be deafened for a moment, but the creature backed off, not gone, wounded by not defeated. It might buy them some time.

Fantomex | OTA

[madeofmirrors]

Days 1 » 3
Since arriving in the Sphere, Jean-Phillipe has had to take a lot of faith, which is something he’s neither designed for nor akin to. He’d awoken in a recessed pod, not unlike the one he’d been kept in until his escape, which made for many restless nights, but at least he wasn’t alone. Living in an odd, inverted aquarium gave one the sense they were always being watched regardless, and so he spends the first few days doing his model best to ignore the growing sense of foreboding as he goes about his business, at the library or at a cafe, a small bistro having dessert crepes with a sweet red wine…

...there was nothing odd afoot, no strangeness...until that sound, which he’s grateful for his mask over, because no one needs to see how disturbed he is, though he’s certainly paying attention to everyone around him as he sips casually from his glass, in order to see who else was hearing that sound.

Day 7
Denial was all well and good, but here he was, having turned a corridor in the dome housing the library, staring down a long-limbed, grinning monster, brows lowered in an annoyed frown. If there was one thing that annoyed him due to his brains’ inability to accept the supernatural, it was something that shouldn’t exist.

“I’ve read about you, you know,” the Tall Paul did nothing but tilt its head to the side as though curious, its too-wide grin never faltering. “On the internet, prepubescent children scare each other with tales of the Slenderman. I really must deduct points for originality.”

The demon, unmoved by his ridicule, merely tilts its head to the other side, still grinning.

7

[lepidopterans]

Denial was something Elizabeth Braddock often clung to. Of course she was not denying that these demons were there, that would just be ridiculous. No, Betsy's denial came in the form of her own feelings and well being, as it always had. Telepathy was eternally a double edged sword. There had been times she had been without her gift and it always left her feeling like half a person. At the same time it could cause quite the migraine. It became harder and harder to shut the whispers out of her own mind and her head began to constantly throb.

As the days went on she walled herself off more and more.Then those things started appearing and she found herself wondering if she should seek him out. He was her teammate after all, or he had been until she'd burned those bridges. Maybe he could help or maybe they could help each other. Maybe she should make certain he was okay. Maybe...

No. No maybes. She pushed those thoughts away and kept her distance. It was better for them both, or so she'd convinced herself.Then he was there. Having a conversation with one of the creatures in the same place she'd decided to go. Of bloody course he would. She could just turn tail and leave before he noticed her. That was what she should.

It wasn't what she did though.

"I don't believe they respond to being chastised." Despite her best attempts to keep an even tone to her voice it would probably be clear to him that she was exhausted.

Charis || Open

[wasinnocent]

A. Days 1-4

Staying awake wasn't hard for Charis. In that respect she was lucky, it wasn't like she needed as much sleep as a human might. For her the first few days passed without too much in the way of unpleasantness. The feeling of being watched and seeing things out of the corner of her eyes was more annoying than anything at all. Then the sounds started. The sounds that just weren't right. That was when the the unease really started to set in.

As the sound escalated up she became more visibly jumpy as she walked around the market of the Sphere with a hand on the hilt of one of her swords. The feeling that something was there, that something was watching, that something was coming was one she couldn't shake. It was filling her up and an empath never needed to be filled up with outside feelings. That just lead to problems. The main problem right now was she couldn't feel the difference between the vague shadows and the residents of the Sphere.

"Stop following me." She didn't shout the words but they were firm enough to be much more than a statement. They were a threat said to either the shadows or a poor unsuspecting fellow resident of the Sphere.

B. Days 5-10

"Is it paranoia if you actually are being watched?" It was probably a bad sign that Charis was speaking to nobody at all. Paranoia had completely kicked in. At this point she wasn't even sure if it was her paranoia or someone else's paranoia. The lines were completely blurred and she was a jumpy anxious mess. When emotions around her became too intense she'd never been able to control it. Thousands of years of practice and she'd never found a way to shut it off. The only thing she'd learned to help was drinking and avoiding strong emotions altogether.

Drinking was the choice she'd made right now. She had a bottle of wine in her hand as she wandered aimlessly through the different spheres. It was half empty and there was no telling how many she'd gone though.

"Want some?" she held the bottle up and asked to nobody in particular. Her voice held an empty quality to it, almost like she wasn't really there and was just trapped in feelings around her.

A

[thegrifter]

For the first few days, Cole bargained off all the weird sights as nerves. He was in a new place, he didn't know the lay of the land, he didn't know what to expect. The sound made it different, more real in a way, and that wasn't something that sat well with him.

He wasn't in the market to find her, or anything as intriguing as that. In fact, he was so focused on ignoring that weird sound that he very nearly bumped into her.

He blinked at her words, frowning. "I wasn't."