Absolute Immersion - A Child's Nightmare - Backdated [OTA]

[spiritwalks]

Who: 1.) YOU, 2.) some nightmares??? and 3.) either Vyng spiritwalks, Tuck bardbarous, or Billie wapples! (Or you can tag all three, that's fine too!)
What: Repressed trauma ensues after your character reads a magical book from the Absolute Immersion prompt in August's TDM
When: End of August + all through September
Where: A dreamscape that can be simply described as "the stuff children's nightmares are made of"...

Content Warnings: Image of blood; Description of dead or bleeding animals; Vague references to intimate partner violence; Wartime violence; Apocalyptic imagery; Other canon-specific content, depending on who tags in



More info beneath the cut. Prompts in the comments.

What

Nightmares

Are Made of

Absolute Immersion - September TDM Prompt

So. You read the magical book.

An anthology of short stories about three idiots who thought it'd be a great idea to tote around a bottle labeled:

A CHILD'S NIGHTMARE

Unfortunately, it 100% bites them in the ass. And as you tumble face-first into the book's contents, you realize it's probably gonna bite you in the ass too. Sorry about that.

---

> What the hell is happening?

1. Congratulations! Your character read one of Gaze's books and got sucked into a dreamscape comprised of terrors that keep children up at night. More specifically, it repeats characters' recurring nightmares on an infinite loop. Nightmares can be literal or abstract. Characters may or may not be aware they're stuck in a nightmare, or they may gradually figure it out.

2. If a character is "killed" by their own nightmare, OR their nightmare is "killed" by anyone, two things happen: First, the loop resets. Second, the character is restored to the state they were in during the previous loop. Injuries sustained from your own nightmare are gone, and deaths do not "stick".

3. Characters CAN be seriously wounded or killed by the nightmares of OTHERS. These consequences will not reset with any loop. Also? If you die in the dream, you die in real life.

> What if my character's nightmare is some world-shattering, cataclysmic inferno?

Y'all better run. And pray you stumble into somebody else's personal hell ASAP.

> Any souviners?

1. Why, yes! Adorning your character's finger is a pretty obsidian ring that softly glows. Alternatively, the ring can hang from a chain around their neck. This item enables the wearer to share memories with others who bear the same ring.

2. If your character has not already taken a canon item from a different Absolute Immersion book memory, they are free to take the ring back to Trench. Note that it will emerge as a mundane ring...although it does retain its subtle glow. Curious!

3. The ring's original magical properties CAN potentially be restored. You will need to ask either Vyng, Tuck or Billie for more information about it back in Trench.

> How the hell do I get out?

Simple. Reclaim the power you always had — by taking off your ring!

Of course, that assumes you can think clearly while your deepest fears come to life. Or while your friend is getting hurt fighting your personal demons. But maybe, just maybe...you can shape a better reality through sheer willpower and dream logic. For some Sleepers, it's a well-practiced survival mechanism.

> Can I do a separate spoopy thread with a character who isn't in the Spout Lore cast?

If two characters would feasibly be reading the magical book together in Trench, then sure! Knock yourselves out.

> More questions?

Feel free to reach out to Jansen at jackets or Jansen#8997.

CODING

Comments

[spiritwalks]

[With arrows puncturing its body and a dead creature trapped in its jaws, the creature gives off the menacing vibe of a blood-drenched warrior. But against that blow's sheer force? Death has no choice but to stagger backward. For a few precious seconds, it even seems stunned. And in its stupor, it actually drops the dead snow owl to the ground.

Vyng, startled by the rebuke, can only utter a quiet "wow. . ." at the newcomer's incredible willpower. After a beat, he helpfully(?) offer in way of explanation:]

That's my dad.

[dohaeris]

[sansa scrabbles backward, bleeding, her heart beating too fast to be stunned (though she is very surprised that the wolf let go. the arrows make a little more sense). she rises unsteadily to her feet, using the spear as leverage.]

I'm sorry.

[not for what she said or did, but that his father should be so terrible. wolves don't attack their own. the pack survives. she holds the spear out in front of her as she watched herself do once in a dream, beside her lady mother in the crypts of winterfell. it would be comfortable enough, except for the pain in her shoulder. it aches in time with her heartbeat. she glances up at vyng.]

Do you have enough arrows?

[she brandishes the spear at the wolf with a glare, hoping to drive it back. she doesn't know if she has the strength for a wounding blow, much less a killing one. rage presses her forward. this body may not have learned how to fight, but it remembers how to talk to wolves. every part of her says ears up, tail out, teeth bared.]

Get away, coward. What kind of wolf are you? We are nothing without our pack. We never hurt them.

[spiritwalks]

[Vyng doesn't expect the condolences. Frustration or surprise, sure. Outrage over winding up in somebody's dreamscape, maybe. But sympathy for the Spiritwalker isn't exactly in abundance on this island. If the newcomer is a Druid, she is clearly cut from a different cloth than that of the local clades who wish to pass judgment on him.]

No, I have no arrows. Only my spear.

[The wolf, it seems, had taken a shower of arrows just to reach his prey. After all, why would Death fear itself? Upon hearing this woman's fierce rebuke, the beast's countenance only grows darker as it stares them both down.]

No pack of mine, he growls through iron-grey teeth, will spare that one.

Vyng's expression remains impassive. The response, harsh as it may be, is more than the wolf usually says in his nightmares. But, somehow, it's every bit what he expected. As if the words had always been etched into his body, from before he was even born. A pang of regret snagging at his heart, he quietly says to Sansa:]

You're in grave danger here. I'm sorry you got caught up in this.

[dohaeris]

[sansa has no clade or guide. the stark children are the first childreen born to be greenseers in a hundred years. she has some hope that the greenseers of old were kinder than the westeros she knows, but she wouldn't be surprised if they weren't. she snarls at the wolf, brandishing her spear as a wolf bares its teeth.]

No pack of mine would be so cruel. And I am the direwolf, cousin.

[she looks up at vyng. she's not as sorry as she might be; she's always in danger, and this is a matter for wolves. she only wishes her own pack was here. with two direwolves and a hellhound, she could end this.]

I'm no spearwife, and I'm losing blood. Take the spear, and I'll fall back and meet you in an another guise once my wounds are closed. Do you know where I might find a healer?

[spiritwalks]

[And I, rumbles the wolf, am Death, direwolf.]

[Vyng grimaces at the declaration, and yet his gaze is locked onto the young woman's terrible wounds. I am the direwolf, she'd said. Strange...he doesn't see a tell marking her as such. But he doesn't dwell on it. Vyng is not confident her injuries will reset. But it's not safe for any one person to venture through these woods, either.]

We're alone here. [He grips the rune-carved spear tighter with calloused fingers, though his voice remains even.] . . . Get behind me. Please.

[They can escape together, once he's bought them a little more time.]

[dohaeris]

[sansa snarls before she can stop herself:]

No one man is death!

[there is a lot of adrenaline running through her system right now, and she hauls herself behind vyng. she doesn't seem overly encumbered by her wounds, and the bleeding seems to have slowed somewhat. it occurs to her belatedly that taunting an opponent is generally a bad idea.

it is strange that they should be alone. the wolf has been shot with arrows, and there are usually more wolves.]

Is this truly a dream? I can dreamwalk, I should be able to do anything.

[she imagines her wounds healing over, a great spear with an obsidian point, leaf-shaped, impaling the cruel wolf and pinning him to the ground...]

[spiritwalks]

[ Woah.

That went from 30 to 90 in ten seconds flat. Vyng's gaze doesn't waver as she grapples with the dream-logic fueling this place, twisting and bending it to her will as naturally as a bird takes flight.

Her dream spear plunges into the wolf's chest. A sick crunch! pierces the air. The creature struggles against the snow, until its form — arrows and all — dissolves into a plume of ash.

But Death is nothing if not persistent. Instead of disappearing with the winter wind, the ash violently tries to envelop both Vyng and Sansa like wildfire smoke: Stinging the lungs, turning the air acrid, and smothering the air.]

[dohaeris]

[sansa blinks, surprised that any of it worked. she imagines a great gust of wind pushing the smoke away from them, bends down and picks up the obsidian spear.

when she stands a shape coalesces out of the smoke, flickering from ilyn payne to joffrey to littlefinger to john gaius. sansa frowns.]

He would kill me as soon as look at me. I wouldn't even have time to feel it.

[the shape flickers back to littlefinger. sansa brandishes her spear.]

He can't touch me. Not here.

[the shape flicks to joffrey to meryn trant to lysa arryn to boros blount to littlefinger again before collapsing into a thick pool of highly polluted blood from the spring blood blisters. it begins to spread outward. sansa sighs and imagines them standing on a very tall platform. she turns to vyng.]

Is there a trick to this or do I have to summon a pack of dream blood hounds to save us?

[normal questions...]