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Discussion in 'Statistical Roleplays' started by CerberusLycan, Jun 9, 2013.

  1. Now...


    Like beings endlessly harrowed by the caprices of the sea and-- after being driven down to a deep abyss-- drifting back to the oceanic surface to experience the wonder of discovering light again, they came to their senses.

    Do you recognize the world around you? Or is everything... a mystery?

    They were arranged in a circle-- eight of them, amidst a bleak grey plain. There seemed to be nothing to their environment, nothing to the new world they found themselves in. Was this a hopeless wasteland?

    Yes... for now, it is nothing. This area is special, though. Let a little creativity mingle with the presence of possibility, and something innovative can burgeon.

    As that gentle voice sounded, stardust began picking up from the listless ground and floating along the stagnant air. Small clouds of peaceful cosmos lifted and brushed across the grey expanse, painting white tiling across the ground and bringing up sturdy walls of the same pristine color, inscrutable stars blinking in every inch of the material. The bare outline of a building was formed, steady in its structure and twinkling on its surface.

    This place is called The Innovatory, a special product made possible only by the philosophy of the Dreambase-- whoever that may be. Even among the locales of this Dream World, The Innovatory is unique in that it adheres most willfully to the ingenuity of its' residents-- it will construct itself according to your subconscious designs.

    It was a whole, large, white room they now stood in, delicate sconces fixed to the wall and a pale, stylized rug lying before a set of glass sliding doors at the far end. Unremarkable white night-stands sat obliviously in two respective corners, and the only other decoration of note was a vast white table which consumed the middle of the space further in the room, complete with chairs allocated appropriately. These unsuspecting eight people still stood, as if locked, in their loose ring in the center of the domicile. Moving really didn't seem like an issue at the moment, but they could incline their heads and manipulate their eyes. Were they to look up, a certain lack of a rather crucial part of a true room would be observed.

    There is no ceiling, though. I am not sure of the reason, but I believe it's relevant to the arrangement in the sky, so far above you...

    The sky itself stretched perpetually upward, into an unknowable void. What would seem miles and miles above the ground, though, began a line. That line coursed across the entire area, unimpeded, with other lines scantly branching off from it. It was an unthinkable phenomenon, but yet it looked for all the world like there was the beginnings of a spider web all the way up there, where clouds should have logically been.

    You should call and fear it as the Dreamcatcher. A horrible being known as the Reaver has taken to making it every night in this Dream World, though he hasn't chanced upon a victim yet... I've brought you in late. Some progress has already been made on it. Time is a surprisingly precious resource in this world, so I'll try to take as little of yours as possible.

    My identity is not important.
    You are the important ones here-- all I've done is couriered you to this Dream World. Soon you will meet a being who will grace you with powers as part of his inherent nature. The wielding of this power should come naturally to you, and your directions, in this place, should come even more naturally. All you must do is work your way up the Innovatory, to the top... whichever form that may take. I'm sorry I cannot be of more help, but the Dream World itself will let you free once a particular action has been completed. Your only objective here is to complete that requisite before the Dreamcatcher is completed.

    There is more meaning to my bringing you here than you could imagine. There is more meaning to
    everything than one person could ever imagine. So make good with your allies... introduce yourselves, and complement each other through your shared trials and experiences. Help one another not to succumb to hopelessness, for there is always a ray of light to be found in another person's wisdom.

    That is the extent of my advice, and the end of my stay. Wait for the Eccentric One-- he is the first step to this journey. With that direction, I bid you all a good night's sleep, and wish that you may be graced with good Dreams.

    The presence was lost, and everything seemed to exhale in relief. These eight people would find themselves free to move-- free to explore their new and unnatural surroundings. There seemed, after all, nothing else to do but investigate-- both the environment and as the strange voice had suggested, each other-- as they waited for "the Eccentric One".

    Gathering Suspicions:

    --Who are these other people?!!
    --Is there anything in the night-stands?

    Ambience: Wading in Mystery
  2. A miracle. Isn't that what one would call it? Just a few hours ago, hadn't he closed his eyes and went to sleep? Not by choice of course, but the body knows when it is time to get some rest. This young man now stood in a circle with seven others. Before he had been sitting at his computer--surely his face would be either on the keyboard or his desk right now because he had to be dreaming at the moment, and in order to be dreaming, he would have had to have fallen asleep. Through his glasses, his stormy gray eyes gazed upon the others. Who the hell were they? They didn't seem very familiar. In his research of dreams, something he took pleasure in performing, he learned that the people who appeared in dreams were usually people that dreamer has seen in the waking world, whether they be strangers or people that are close to them like friends and family members. Did that mean he had seen these people before? That's when it occurred to him that he was thinking an awful lot for this to be a dream. Wasn't he supposed to be in his subconscious? What need was there for thought? Things were just supposed to transpire and then he'd wake up. But this...this was definitely different. This wasteland...it was somewhat unsettling.

    Do you recognize the world around you? Or is everything...a mystery?

    Now that was an interesting question. Why would any of this be recognizable? There was nothing here. The voice itself seemed so gentle and sweet--it was a welcome relief to the silence which was something the young man typically valued. Regardless, this place was definitely a mystery, along with whatever circumstance that had brought him to it. His eyes widened and he gasped audibly as things were brought to life, the very dust from the ground lifted and conforming into some sort of room in which he now stood. The others didn't move; they all remained in that circle as the voice explained to them that this place was the Innovatory or something. What all does this have to do with anything? This is making absolutely no sense, the man thought drolly, gazing around the rather vacant room. A beautiful table. A couple of nightstands. And no ceiling. All of it was way too odd. The voice directed them to look above, and in that abysmal sky, the man was able to see the frightening construction of some sort of web. The voice didn't even have to explain what it was for it to strike a bit of fear into him. The Dreamcatcher. Such an ominous name... The Reaver...the being who constructed it. Why would he make such a thing and what was its purpose? The voice mentioned that there were no victims, so does that mean it was meant to kill or harm people?

    Adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose, the young man felt a headache coming on. He scratched at his light green hair for a second in more thought. The voice didn't want to reveal its identity because apparently it wasn't important. Similarly, everything was just supposed to be natural for them. They were chosen, but the real question was what exactly were they chosen for? Climbing to the top of the Innovatory? What did that even imply? The man felt frustration mounting within him. Time being of the essence. Waiting for some Eccentric One. It was all vague bullshit and he was just about done. When the voice ended its tirade, the man was the first to break the circle, pacing over to the table and pulling out one of the chairs tentatively as if it would bite him or something, but as soon as he had deemed it safe, he took a seat and rested his elbows on the table so he could effectively clutch his head, his fingers massaging his temples which slightly disrupted the frames of his glasses. This was ridiculous. Trust the others. Who even were they? People that would restrict his freedom. People that would judge him. People that would probably stab him in the back without a single regard. People were selfish. Oppressive. And he didn't have any need of them. None at all.
  3. Awaken.

    Like a snap of the fingers next to an ear, the eternal darkness under closed eyes surrendered to the briliant shine of light under a mere word. With each blink she made, Kiowa Hatori began to stir herself to "awaken" like the voice commanded. The world around her was unfamiliar this time. Tainted with an unforgettable haze. But to her surprise, she couldn't feel her fingers or anything under her neck. Ecstatic aquamarine pools looked up and around rapidly while Kiowa bit her lip and the following thought echoed over and over like a confused chant. /What the hell....the hell...my body../

    "Do you recognize the world around you? Or is everything....a mystery?" questioned the voice from virtually nowhere. The eyes of the somber hooded girl looked down slowly while her head was still pointed above. /S'nothing I would dream...no/ From the corner of her eye she saw a figure..no, two..three...four...all surrounded by nothing more than a shifting room forming what she saw was a fancy rug and some fancy sliding doors to her sides.

    /And..wait a moment, who are these people?...I've surely never met them.../Lowering her head, Kiowa glanced at each dormant body with curiousity and caught her intense eyes at a man not too far from where she laid. She neither had the interest in speaking to anyone nor the wish to attract attention to herself despite the man saying that these people including her were to work together to find the "Eccentric One." It almost made her a little queezy with the thought of venturing with any of them. People. Just people in general. They're so filled with surprises, most of them unpleasant. It was easier to remain on her spot for now until she awoke. If that were possible.​
  4. A cacophony of sounds and incoherent images flooded her mind, followed closely by the anxious, irritable attitude that she was well used to immediately after waking up. Chemicals that were supposed to keep her calm- sane, even- were wearing off, as they always did eventually. The doctors were probably going to raise her dosage soon. As it was, they never got her through the day... even when taking them a second time, they wore off shortly after she went to sleep, when chaotic and disturbing dreams would ravage her subconscious until the light of day woke her up...

    A dull roar echoed through her mind- fuck, it was so real, it always was, why couldn't it go away? The voices, the figures, the ideas, the fear, the racing thoughts that disallowed any rest and woke her up as often as a particularly vivid dream would... or a nightmare... A towering beast rising up through the depths of her psyche, she often envisioned it... as if her visions weren't vivid enough, she'd even fittingly named it Anarchy...


    A shudder and a groan marked the next person rising to wakefulness, a raven-haired teenage girl with disoriented yet oddly colored eyes. A dull gold scarf, wrapped around her neck, served to hide the bottom half of her face even as she slowly rose into a sitting position, rubbing her head as if in pain. Following this, she took to looking around, running her right hand through her long black hair, and immediately stiffening to alertness as she registered her surroundings. Several people around her, only two of which were awake. A quick scan of the room told her this was definitely not her bedroom, nor any place she recognized.

    She fell back into a lying position, on her back, eyes closed, with an exasperated, almost angry sigh. The sigh was muffled by her scarf, but she rectified that soon enough by pulling it down, away from her mouth and under her chin. "Fuck me, not again." Her voice was more annoyed than tired or confused, as one might expect instead. Opening her eyes again, she sat back up and almost dug her nails into her arm to see whether or not she was still asleep, but thought better of it and looked at the other two who were awake instead. "Okay. Are either of you two real?"
  5. She woke with a sudden jerk, painfully aware of what was her supposed consciousness spurring to life, and a scream that was dying in her throat. Platinum hair fell in tendrils across her shoulders, down her back, clutching at her skin, as though they were hands reassuring her that things were okay - she was okay. Reassuring her that she was alive. But as she sat up - slowly, so as not to smash her head off of the bunk that she had thought would greet her - she realized that she could not be on her lower bunk, snugly in her home.

    Shit... am I dead?

    She genuinely could not tell. Was this what the afterlife was? A small circle - some sort of shitty post-life support group, maybe consisting of seven other figures? Less? She couldn't tell what was body and what was the bleak nothingness. Though Cæl had never really expected much of the world after she died, she thought she would at least get the gratification of knowing how it happened... The girl tried to speak; to get some sound out of her lungs... but it wouldn't come, no matter how hard she tried. A tear started to well up in her eye, though she was much too brave to let herself sob out. Instead, she buried her face in her forearm, wiping away the beginnings of a would-be storm of crying. Her clothes remained the same ones she had fallen asleep in. The same orange shirt... the same blue jeans. Was she really dead...?

    For now, it is nothing. This area is special, though.

    Special HOW?! Cæl thought, angrily in her head. She did not dare open her mouth for fear of letting the ashlike specks floating around into her mouth. The girl had too many close encounters with fire in her dreams... she had been so destructive... and speaking of dreams, she became finally cognizant that she was being spoken to. The area around her shifted. Gone was the bleak greyness that she had thought of as her own death, surrounded by figures she could still not identify. Were they supposed to be identified? Was she supposed to understand anything about this place...?

    Cælium lifted herself off of the ground. This all felt real, but the voice assured her that this was something called 'The Innovatory.' Whatever the hell that meant. All the same, she had been told finally that she was dreaming. Wait... so I'm not dead? Her heart skipped at least three beats immediately: she wasn't dead. Oh, praise... err, whatever you are! she mentally called out to the voice, lifting her hands high in the air and shutting her eyes, inhaling deeply the world around her as it formed. As something of an agnostic, she wasn't certain whether the detached voice was something to be deified quite yet. Regardless, the young girl with the platinum hair now stood in a room. And within its confines, three others who were awake, and figures that yet remained hazy, and seemingly asleep. But then again... who is really awake if we're in a Dream World?

    When she finally opted to open her eyes, the voice reassured her that her eyes were not deceiving her. The room had no ceiling. Instead, it had a sickeningly-striking pattern. Immaculate, like a spider's web. The voice called it a Dreamcatcher, and said that it was to be feared. But it remained elusive as to her purpose here - in fact, it never seemed to address her directly. Just climb?! What the hell kind of instructions are those? Of course, like any good deity, the detached voice had to be confusing as all hell. Cæl faintly wondered if there was some sort of deity-council that came up with rules surrounding their inherent vagueness. Could things not be simple? Or was it some consequence of human stupidity? Whatever it was, Cæl didn't like it. Who gets off on giving these deliberately-awful instructions... And on top of that, she couldn't trust these other figures in the room as far as she could trust her own eyes. Rooms without ceilings? Celestial spider webs? Nightmares giving way to death giving way to lucidity? Hah, some dream this was.

    She faintly heard a feminine voice uttering out a harsh cuss, as though she had done this before. Removing her gaze finally from the display above them, Cæl tried to let her eyes adjust to the room again. Finally, the silhouetted figures became more apparent, and the source of the voice posed a simple, almost obvious, methodical question - "Okay. Are either of you two real?" The question was not, apparently, inclusive of her. The urge overcame her to at least make her presence known. After all, it didn't seem like the dude with the green hair and the glasses was about to respond, nor the other girl, absently staring off into the floor, beneath a hood.

    But wait.

    Could she... was she allowed to talk yet? She opened her mouth, inhaled deeply, and...

    "Well, I don't know about these two, but I'm real. At least... I thought I was." she shuffled in place, confidence to speak finally wavering. "You seem... knowledgeable. D'you know what's up here?"
  6. "Ugh, of course I'm real," the young man with the glasses was quick to interject. This girl "didn't know about them two" supposedly. Would they be some figments thrust into the room? No, of course not. Everyone in this immediate vicinity was real; the man was sure of it. And they were brought here for a reason, no matter how unbelievably nonsensical. Finally releasing his temples from their constant massage, the man stood up from the table and turned to face the platinum-haired girl--she was quite pretty. Adjusting his glasses, he bowed his head. "The name's Aaron Cadence. Call me Era though. I have a real name. And a real existence. Just the same as I believe that the rest of us here are real...or as close to real as you can get in a realm like this," he explained, his voice dropping in both harshness and volume as he neared the end of his statement. Would they eventually fade into nothingness? Become mingled and mangled with the elements of the imaginary? Another patch on the quilt of the Dreamscape... It was here that he realized he had NO freedom, and it gave his heart the feeling as though it were being squeezed. He would have to follow whatever instructions he was given to escape. He would have to follow, for he was positive that venturing off on his own would lead to his inevitable demise. Even if the others rebelled and went with him, chances are that would just mean more casualties. They were at the mercy of whatever force brought them here. It may not have been very threatening, but should it wish to quash an uprising, he had every belief that it could do so and quite easily at that.

    Era's eyes focused on the girl who had originally asked the question of whether or not the people were real. What a gaudy scarf. For whatever reason, Platinum over here had some sort of sneaking suspicion that this chick knew something, but Era greatly doubted that. Why would she even? She couldn't even distinguish what was real and what was not! Granted he wasn't in any better position, but at least he didn't go around claiming that he could. Even still, if she could make sense of what was told to them, that was a different story--another thing that Era really couldn't do. The headache was still causing him a bit of annoying anguish. He ran a hand through his hair and sighed, his stoic gaze never turning from Gaudy Scarf.

    "I believe she means more specifically, do you have any idea about what to make of our instructions? A simple climb it would seem at first sound, but is it really that simple?" Era inquired on his own. There were still the others who were lingering about, but the sooner they could distinguish what needed to be done, the better. They would be that much closer to returning to the waking world, assuming they were indeed inside the world of dreams, something he would have never even imagined before now. Not to mention they were pretty much given a time limit. "Finish before the Dreamcatcher is completed..." he muttered inaudibly to himself while waiting for Gaudy Scarf's answer, trying to mull that fact over in his mind. Would something cataclysmic happened if they failed their mission? Oh, wouldn't that be just delightful...
  7. He awaken, blinking the reminants of sleep from his eyes. He had fallen asleep, what hadn't felt too long ago, curled under the sheets of his bed. Now, he pondered why his glasses had returned to his face and why he was in this bleak room with complete strangers. His thoughts turned to the atmosphere and environment that surronded him, and that is when he first recognized a voice speaking to him. Them? It seemed to be addressing the entire group. His thoughts seemingly answered.

    "Creativity?" he thought. Shaking the thought, he closed his eyes, attempting to remember anything that might have happened that caused him to be here. Unable to conjure up a logical reason, he returned his attention to the room, his eyes opening to take it in. He noticed the white room and took in the other bodies around him. His mind drifted back to his home life. "Wait, have I been abducted? Mom... dad... where are you?" he thought. Closing his eyes tightly, he took a deep breath inwards. He wanted to control his emotions now, the strangers might want to kill him. As the voice faded away, mentioning for them all to wait for someone and learn their allies... "Allies!?" the boy thought as he found himself able to move again.

    Pushing himself from his position on the ground, he adjusted his glasses and pushed them up the bridge of his nose. He scratched the back of his head, glancing around at the other people sitting and laying around him. Other four of the other seven seemed to have awaken, and the boy caught himself staring at each one. The one key fact he noticed of each, they were all considerably, to him, older than himself. He already felt pushed out, just on the sheer age difference. He shuddered slightly, this almost confirmed his believe that they might want to kill him, no matter what the voice had said. Pulling his legs in, he pushed himself slightly away from the group and moved his legs into a cross-legged position. He heard a question flutter out about being real, and he found himself nodding and thinking, "I'm about as real as you must be." He scratched his neck, just watching the other four mumble and shuffle. He sighed, a single tear on his cheek. "I've got to get home. Mom... dad... I need them, and they need me," he thought, wiping the tear. His thoughts turned to determination. He didn't know who to trust, but the voice seemed to imply he needed to trust these other people, but he wasn't quite sure if he could just yet.
  8. The girl sighed in annoyance. Yeah, she'd expected everyone to say they were real. Why did she even ask? "Well, assuming that this is actually happening, no, I don't know any more than you guys do." She stood up, adjusted the scarf around her neck as if it felt too tight, and looked around at the others. Most of them were awake; a couple still slept. The room was still utterly unfamiliar. And a bit too tall. Shit, there wasn't even a ceiling. And the white everything was bringing up bad memories and giving her a headache besides. She found herself hoping that her meds actually had just worn off and that this wasn't happening, but--

    What on Earth could possibly make you think that this is not real, Deliria?

    "Shut up," She hissed back at the deep and unbidden voice, and only got a slight chuckle in response. Fuck off, already, this is confusing enough without you here. Distantly she heard the voice of this man apparently called Aaron or "Era", and almost berated herself for actually talking to him when in the company of complete strangers.

    If these strangers existed after all.

    But if they were, by some off chance, it probably wouldn't do to have them know she was insane. Deliria looked back at Era as he continued to speak, and a somewhat puzzled look passed over her face. "What do you mean, 'our instructions'? Did I miss something before we got dropped into this--" She almost flinched as she was about to say "madhouse"-- "this place?" A slight pause and her slightly more polite side seemed to come through. "Er. Either way, if we're supposed to do something here, I guess you should know my name. Deliria Hayes. Good to meet you, I guess."
  9. Kiowa warily stared, observed and analyzed carefully the actions of those who cared to actually chat and those who did not want to do much but to let the strange world sink in. Her mind was still in a very bad hazy state. The confusion coming from the fact that she was thrown into something as strange as this Dream World had her at a loss for explanations. More importantly, why were there people here again? Are they even real? Kiowa thought back to her previous dreams where they were notably all about strangers around her, but this particular setting did not stir any recalling feelings. /This voice guy sure knows how to make me feel uncomfortable./ She sat up and held her head carefully as the world around her spinned and then stopped. The young woman looked up at a boy fiddling nervously and almost dared to speak up.  He didn't look okay, she thought. He fiddled with his glasses and moved around as if ants were invading his body. Naturally, she knew those signs as anxiety, fear, desperation. And for some reason she felt little to nothing towards the young boy's display.

    Kiowa's head turned and she took a breath. "Anyway." She sighed to herself quietly, flashing her eyes above. Interconnecting threads spanning a vast and infinite void kept her in a calm state. Even to the point where she once again began to recall what the voice was talking about regarding the phenomena above her.  You should call and fear it as the Dreamcatcher. She looked back down and finally stood with a slight slump to her figure. Kiowa mentally assured herself upon retreating her gaze away from the Dreamcatcher. Her mental tone was dry and cold, even angry. /I fear nothing../

    Instinctively as all introverts sometimes did, she proceeded to slip her hands into the joint pocket on her sweater and proceeded to carefully walk around the room on her own, observing once again the strange people introducing each other and generally keeping some hint of calmness to them. Kiowa bit her lip and proceeded to walk over to the gallant white table adorning the middle of the mysterious room and pulled up a chair, almost slamming herself on it. Somehow this entire situation had her uneasy, but all she could personally do in her opinion was to just have some time to think, reflect, and not cause any trouble.

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