onepassingnight | ᴏɴᴇ ✄ something's wrong

[[OOC: Warning's for slight violence.]]

[It was like a heartbeat. Each passing moment, heartbeats. The steady rhythmic thump that would normally seem so calming, especially when sleeping, was a sure sign something was wrong. Everything was quiet besides the thump-thump. Then a gun is being cocked. Bang. Shotgun. That's what it is.

Thump-thump. Heart beat's normal. Regular. It's now that a boy starts to make his way into view. There's a whistling that takes over the heart beating, along with his footsteps down a hallway. Where is he? School. Lockers surround him, black and white tiles coat the floor. The boy's tall, blonde, but what's wrong with his face? There's blood dripping down it. Wait, that was right, right? There was blood dripping down it. His hair was a bloody mess, too. Oh, no. He's got a fine face now. Just fine. That blood was only an illusion.

Suddenly, the scenery changes. Tate's in a library. There's a girl under the table, crying. Whimpering. Things are quiet. No more whistling. No more heartbeat. Just her. He pushes the table back and -- Violet? No. That's wrong. The scenery changes again, and he's in the basement of a large house, holding a red ball.

He looks confused. None of his dreams have ever been so meshed together like this.]

[ooc: haaayyy! sorry if this isn't..the right way to post? IDK IT'S MY FIRST ONE. if something's not right, lemme know. also, i am super excite to play with everyone c:]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Even with everything so distinctly wrong in his head, he knows this isn't his dream-- he doesn't know these places that well, hasn't been to some of them, the blood is there but it isn't cloying. However, he's less alarmed than he should be; it wouldn't be the first time his mind has drifted off during slumber and allowed him access to another's dreams. Not the first time he had another mind twined with his own, it was curious but not enough to make him run away. Instead he watches with that detached curiosity that was probably entirely unnatural.

He can't help but focus on the ball, he's seen them, occasionally brushed his fingers against the hard rubber surface when he was walking through the stores behind Raven. He wants to touch it now, but knows he can't, or rather shouldn't, instead he lifts his head and focuses on the person whom holds it. Not someone he knows, again, another stranger in his head. ]

It's too dark in here.

[Tate's head darts in his direction, and staring at him with a set glare. He's not scared that the man's in his head, but he's confused, more confused than he's ever been. He clenches the ball in his hand, shifting his weight. A small amount of light filters in from the windows at the mention of it being too dark, by it's not by much. Tate just wants to see who's here.]

I don't know you, so why are you here?

[ Charles remains unfettered by the glare, it wasn't a concern of his really; all he wanted to do was inspect things, he's wandered off into someone's dreams again-- it's something that's happened to him a time or two before so he doesn't feel as bothered as others might. He looks to the ball again, fingers twitching but his own movements stilled, ]

I don't know. [ He reaches out a little before thinking better of it and retracting his hands. ] I must have wandered in.

[The general softness of this man's attitude made Tate relax, but only a bit. He was incredibly untrusting of this sort of thing -- he wasn't used to it at all. The only sort of 'inside your head' thing he got was a shrink who was ... sort of doing his job.]

Are you real?

[He doesn't want to be any more crazy that he actually was, especially after his first encounter with the girl. It's not fun.]

[ He knits his brows as if he's pondering the question of his own reality even if the answer itself was something he should be sure of. ]

I think so. [ How sure could one be of their own reality? Raven saw him so clearly, he had to be real, right? If enough people saw him he was real; or at least he would assume that till he hears otherwise. Though with his constantly drifting consciousness it was hard to tell. ]

Are you?

[Tate nods. He hadn't really expected the sort of answer that the man gave him.]

Yeah. I have to be. It wouldn't be right if I wasn't.

[ He scrunches his nose, sniffing faintly at the thought. He reaches out then, bridging the gap and grasping at the ball the young man held. ]

Why wouldn't it be right?

Because this is my dream. If I wasn't real, this wouldn't be possible.

[Tate stares at him for a moment when he takes the ball, but he can't bring himself to care. It's just a ball Beau liked to play with.]

Edited 2011-12-04 02:15 (UTC)

What if you're someone else's dream, and this is the dream they think you would have? [ He squishes the ball between his fingers experimentally but doesn't bounce it or make any moves otherwise to indicate he's intending to play with it. ]

Maybe we're all dead.

[He glances to the ball. He didn't want it, but Beau probably did. Not that he was real here.]

[ He doesn't seem a s perturbed by this as most might be-- they could all be dead for all he knows, he doesn't think he's dead-- no, if he was dead he thinks it would be quieter. ]

Maybe.

Rotting under some sick bastard's house.

[He's trying to get under his skin, and the fact that Charles isn't being, well, disturbed about what he was bringing up only intrigued him more.]

[ He huffs out a breath, pausing and then licking his lips thoughtfully. ]

It's possible, but not likely, I suppose. If I was dead I think I wouldn't hear the things in my head I hear. No.

Not dead. Just-- somewhere new?

ᴏɴᴇ ✄ something's wrong

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