thecapitol | Once Upon A Dream

The Tributes will not be warned for when their injections will occur. For those who are known to be compliant and willing to work with the capitol, they may be taken aside and told they are getting a shot or whatever else may convince them. Others may be injected within their sleep (and have been drugged earlier to keep them that way).

If you are not a tribute, your injection comes on your decision, having cashed in your ticket at Hypnogogia for a good rest and stay.

Everyone is ushered to bed at once and everyone will be quick to discover why.

The first effect is a sort of paralysis - not the terrifying inability to move, but a signal to the brain that says why move? Moving is so much effort. It's quickly followed by drowsiness, and then a chill that radiates from the needle into the body, and finally, unconsciousness.

This shared dreaming carries on whenever you sleep for seven total days, with the Expos running during their waking hours. Those with Vistors will meet them within the dream.

Day 1: It starts as a typical day in the tower. You may very well not realise it to be a dream. The only difference is that there are others here, ones who won't be around when you wake. They've been instructed to wait for you. You can show them the whole of the Capitol in this time, if you wish.

Day 2: On this day, the world is... yours. Some of the world will bleed into the mini worlds of others, so long as you have the wish in mind to visit them. Some details about the worlds may be off but it will initially seem as though you've finally returned home.

Day 3: A paradise. Any paradise. Whatever your characters would personally deem as a paradise. Like with day 2, the dream worlds will bleed into one another.

Day 4: On day four, it starts off somewhere inspired by a District. It's been tailored to suit the Capitol of course but

̨̙̟͒̒̔ͬ̄̌̓̓s̋͒ͩ̈́ͯ́̾ͭ͑͘҉̮͈̪̲̼̜̟͡ó͔͔͖̼̂̓̌̓m̰̹ͩ͑̽̆̽̚͟͞e͙̰̬̻̋ͣ͑ͭ̄̌̀ṭ̡͈͔̺̀͂̈́ͯ̎͛̓́́ḣ̍̉͌҉̮̖͔͉̜͉̘͓į̶̥̼͙͒̏́̈n̼̬̼͖͖̳͊͐̈g̷̱͈̦̀ͣ͒̒̅͛ͯ̐̿ ̵̡̻̳̯ͫ̓̃ͭͨg̵͚͚͖̏̒̏ͨ̐̏ͦ͞͡ȏ͚̳͓̱̩̞͚͙ͮ̊̄̐̂͊e͇͇̦̳̦ͥ̽͌̆͂̇͆ͤͅs͙͙̠̝͍̹͔͓͛̽̾͑͂͆ ̠͖̘̥̤̑ͧ͘w̛̰̰̗͕̻̯̰͕̃͌͘r͖̰͚̋o̵̭̺̺̘͈͕͆̐̇̌ͣ͆͗͟n̷̫ͦ̆ͯ̀g̛̥͖͎̺͙͈ͮ̓͐̄̇.

The dream world seems to distort. From the setting, to those in it, for five seconds everything is warped and wrong, caught in an echo chamber. Then it goes dark and silent. From the dark, the nightmares crawl out. The nightmares may have things taken from memory, but most of it is a new and horrible scene where making sense isn't mandatory.

Capitolites are quickly awoken and refunded. They are given a (poor-tasting) drink that will offer them totally dreamless sleep. But they don't have to drink it if they do not wish...

[OOC: This is the day that D13 players will finally be able to participate and on every day following. You are allowed to post for this early.]

Day 5: The Capitol tries again to take back control of the dream, starting out with a fun and cute arena with super-soakers, glitter bombs, and weapons made from foam. It's happy and colorful. But it doesn't last long.

Soon enough, the dream warps again into a nightmare. The arena loses its harmlessness, becoming one that's very much a threat. This may be an arena from memory or something totally new.

Day 6: The Capitol hasn't given up fighting District thirteen's interference but they've taken to a new tactic. In attempt to drive them out, or at least pin some of the blame on thirteen, the sixth round of sleep is set in a bad memory. It can be any memory at all; something in the arena, something offworld, even things around the capitol or area around so long as it could've been caught on camera. Essentially, unless it's a blind spot, it's fair game.

Individuals who are free of or manage to fight through this torment are free to help the dreaming characters as they will-- or make things worse.

Day 7: War. Terrible war. This is what will be heard on the final day. It will echo out over the dream world. And that dream world will reflect the very terrible war spoken of. Is that your friend over there, looking shell-shocked? Is that your family laying there motionless? Who is that in the fray crying out? Could it be the one you love most?

This dream will leave very few survivors and will not last long. Those that do, will hear this: "Know the cost of selfish acts. Consider what you stand for."

[OOC: With this you may consider the fourth wall live! All tributes and any guests, Capitolites, and D13ers who are signed up may tag in here. Alternately, you may make your own logs! If you are tagging in here, you MUST warn with headers for any relevant topics that may upset players.]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The dust was still settling around the ruins after the bombing, turning the sky even grayer than it was already. Metal twisted tortuously out from blocks of decimated concrete. Softly, subtly, blinking in and out as if afraid to draw attention, a red and blue light flickered inside the shell of one of the sturdier buildings. Its ground floor bulged and heaved up a pile of remains to reveal a hole where the parking garage had caved in. The debris was shunted to the side, vaguely where a lobby used to be.

A lone troll slunk out of the wreckage, head turning this way and that. He carried a pack and a case with antennae sticking out of it, but bore no weapon. He didn't need one with his powers returned. His clothes were once black, but they were faded and dusty now. Even his horns were dusty. Only his eyes were any significant bit of color.

He covered his mouth, stifling his coughs, and kept to the wall. Peeking out a window hole, he briefly saw a stocky figure with a scythe sneaking from cover to cover. He dared to hope, which was always a dangerous thing. He knew a Vantas when he saw one, but there could still be enemies about.

He threw a few of his telltale sparks roughly ahead of Karkat's path to get his attention, then again a bit closer to the building Psii was holed up in.

There: something he knew. Red and blue would always draw Karkat's eye, even after Sollux fell out of his life. The Psiioniic reinforced it. And with reason, it proved, as familiar horns drew from the new ruins. The sparks served better still, calling attention first to him and then to Psii himself: a confirmation that he truly saw him and not a hallucination born of hope.

It was too hard to judge his condition from this distance. Dusty and dirty was inevitable in these conditions, though he took the lack of obvious yellow streaks as sign nothing significant had happened. He hoped, anyway; internal things were always harder to tell.

So with care for surroundings, checking both ways as one might at old crosswalks, Karkat darted over. His sickle he kept held tight and close, and even as he moved his gaze flicked here and there. Watch, watch, don't get caught--but be it luck or a moment's reprieve, he made it to the building without anyone coming for him.

"Psii, are you alright?" He held no great injury himself, bearing mostly a collection of light abrasions and bruises. He motioned at his pack. "Get me inside and show me what that thing is. Do you know where the others are?"

"Well, they're not dead," he said pragmatically. He hadn't had a vision of them. "I can find out where they are with thith thing, but not right here. I came out becauthe the whole building'th about to collapthe. I know becauthe I touched it with my brain. Thtay clothe."

He wound through bits of concrete and metal and stepped through a collapsed wall. Bits of glass tinkled plaintively under his shoes. The combination storefront and apartment complex next door looked less damaged. He ducked inside through a blown-out window and scanned red and blue tendrils over the room.

"Clear, but keep your voithe down anyway. Be lookout while I thet up. I've altho.... got a little newth for you after I thet up."

Karkat's jaw tightened. Not dead was better than the alternative, but it could have meant a lot under circumstances like these. Having a device to find them only gave so much hope, and even that was tenuous with the threat Psii described.

"You Captors and your freaky brain powers," he hissed, but no more. He knew better than to make real complaint, and stayed close as bidden as they snuck through, eyes watchful for person or hazard alike. Past a wall, in through a window, mind the glass, wait--clear. He knew better than to relax completely.

"Okay, I'll watch. But what news?"

Slipping down near the window, he set his sickle on the floor, and dared quick glances outside. His ears he kept pricked, listening for what his eyes might not catch.

Psii rolled his eyes, even if it was hard to tell. His brain was very useful here, thanks very much. He could fight, hack, and scout the area by touch. He could also tell people if they were going to die soon so they could all prepare.

"Don't be tho impatient, thith ithn't 12th Perigee'th Eve." He crouched next to his machine. He offered no more information until his antenna was raised and tinny static was trickling into his headphones. He peeked over a windowsill and scanned the street. The building next to them gave an ominous groan as the wind picked up.

"The good newth ith, my 'freaky brain powerth' thaved uth from being creamed by ten thtorieth of concrete, and they'll thave your life again in the future. You're welcome. The bad newth ith, I'm going to die."

Which was why he kept from saying more. Sollux had saved the hides of him and his friends a couple times through his own powers, even at cost to his life. He missed him still at times - missed 12th Perigee's, too.

"I'll be as impatient as I want," he bit off, but kept his gaze to the lookout.

Once the Psiioniic had things set up and working, Karkat looked back to hear his answer. First a terse nod to being safe; he'd rather that than being crushed under an unstable building. But at the last his face wrinkled.

"No, you're not. We're going to keep each other alive, and just because I don't have psionics doesn't meant I'm useless for the job."

So much for trying to prepare dumbasses who just wouldn't listen. Psii should have kept his mouth shut and let it all be a horrible surprise. He whipped off the headphones he'd been straining to listen to and snarled,

"Oh my God you and SS are both athchafing imbethileth! What part of precognition do you not underthtand? I predicted deathth for SS on live broadcatht and he thtill didn't believe me. When we meet up with him again, I'm going to grab you both and thlam your craniumth together; you'll take it jutht fine, your headth are hard enough. No matter how thtrong you thay you are, I'm going to die."

The beams next door gave an audible creak, loud enough to raise the hairs on the back of Psii's neck.

"And don't you dare fall now, you piethe of concrete shit, I'm talking," he snapped at the building. It shifted and groaned back, clearly not taking orders today.

Once Upon A Dream - 4th wall

day 7

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