thecapitol | Once Upon A Dream

Once Upon A Dream - 4th wall

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.]

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The blankness of his face should be telling enough. He's never heard of any of this. Not even a little. Exactly jack fuckin shit. "So the world goes to superhero hell in the future, good to know. You know, some people would call this spoiling."

He stares right back at Albert, matching his expression to say, "...If you and Sam got married and I didn't get an invite I'm gonna be pissed."

The idea that he could be married to Sam is so amusing that Albert actually gives a bark of a laugh as he turns the next corner in the stairwell. "No, someone else. Sam and I are close but not that close."

Not like you are, is the implication, and there's a hopeful note to it. Riley could be somewhere in the Capitol dreaming, even if he's dead in his own world. So many are and yet live on here, and maybe will get to continue if they can overthrow the Capitol and turn Panem into somewhere worth living. It's a nice thought, changing the totalitarian dictatorship into a country of new hope and life.

He's about to say something else, but a hissing sound starts from the fused door below. A cursory glance reveals the Peacekeepers have gotten their hands on something to cut the door open with forcefully, as evidenced by the white-hot glow sparking from one edge of the frame.

"Hurry." Albert starts taking the stairs three at a time.

"So there's more flyers. You'll have to introduce me some day," He says, like there's a day to be introduced in. There could be. He's here now.

He does hear that little implication. It maybe adds to the things he's refusing to think about because he can't. Seeing Sam again, well that's always good. What would they guy even do without him he does know. He wouldn't want to know, he thinks. That would mean figuring out what the hell he was supposed to do without Sam.

He hears the hissing just as Albert does and doesn't need fancy robotics to see the other guys don't either. The hurry is welcomed but unnecessary and he's following at just the same quick pace. Albert says he knows a way out. He believes that.

It's all they've got anyway.

"Y'know, it's been a real pleasure talking to you, Heinrich. We should hang out more."

"Assuming we live through this, perhaps we will." They finally make it to the correct floor and Albert punctuates the end of his sentence not with a period but with a loud thump as he shoulders the door open with all of his weight and continues without pause down the plush hallway, looking left, then right, then turning sharply and disappearing around a corner into a bedroom.

A few minutes later and a mish-mashed cloth bundle comes flying out at Riley.

Kurloz hasn't lived on the D5 floor for some time, Albert knows, but his clothing is here anyway. So is Sam's, which is what he'd thrown at Riley since they've got the same wiry build. For himself, Albert takes the colorful trappings he finds in among the military-cut and feminine bits of wardrobes from all of 5's Tributes, past and present. He can't wear that himself, despite how much more comfortable it would be. His own stylist had dressed him like that more often than not, he'd be recognized. Instead he pulls on bright silks and dyed satins, gauze and beads and tiny skulls until he looks more like an ancient sheikh than a soldier.

"Gonna hold you to that, man. I'll eat your food and take up your couch, warning you now." God. Shit, that would be nice. He's still got a job to do, a whole lot of jobs, but for a bit there just laying on a couch with a cookie or too sounds as good as a tropical paradise.

He misses home. He misses Sam. Even if it hasn't been long for that one.

Albert busts in, beginning on a raid and he's quick to follow but apparently not quick enough. He catches the clothes haphazardly, fumbling some of the smaller things and quickly darting down to pick it all up. What the fuck are the-- right.

He doesn't waste time. He throws on the simplest things he can think too; t-shirt, jeans, a red sweater over top. There's something familiar about them, he thinks. Something Sam would wear. He's torn out of that thought process when he catches sight of Albert though.

He snorts. He doesn't even try to resist it. "What'd you do, rob a shaman?"

"Not exactly the time for jokes," Albert scowls from under the layers of fabric, his face barely visible under the drapery. His eyes are just too distinct and he has to hide them somehow.

"Put on a hat. We'll leave through the front entrance with no one suspecting. They'll still be searching the back corridors of the Tower." Oh so he thinks. He hopes. He wills it; this is his dream, after all.

"Aw, come on now grumperkins," He says. Guy's probably just embarrassed about looking like a post-holi-festival washing machine coughed him up. He goes to search, deciding not to fight then need for a hat. If Albert thinks that'll work, he'll go for it. They don't have much for options.

"If they find us and decide they'd like us much better with a hole in our heads, you're not really gonna regret a laugh or two then, are you?" He picks a baseball hat out and jams it down over his head, sunglasses following after and hiding his own eyes now too so it's mostly just his grin that can be seen.

"They won't." There's so much certainty in Albert's tone that it could be convincing that he sees the future. In a sense, it's true. Not this situation, but Riley's future. His death, how he's impacted Sam, how that impact shaped Albert's friend into the person he is. He has to wonder how different it would be if Riley'd never died. But that thinking is dangerous.

While Albert is caught in his inner thoughts, the world seems to slow. Not Riley, as he's another mind, but the dream world itself reacting to Albert, who's will has been asserted over it to varying degrees this entire time. It slows, shifts, and suddenly they're outside in a shadowed corridor under a bridge in the sprawling park, many blocks from the Tower. To Albert it feels normal. To Riley... who knows?

They won't, Albert says. Hopeful he might be, he isn't as sure as Albert is. But that isn't really the point of what he'd been trying to get at anyway. There was pretty much always a time for a joke. And that was more than just his personal opinion.

Riley's not much for lucid dreaming. Some of the natural logic seems distant now. They didn't even question a lot of the stranger shit that had gone on since he was... here. Yet he's not sure that everything is exactly correct. He frowns at the world around, feeling at ease but not being sure what to do about it.

They're under a bridge now and he looks around unsure, but only saying, "You think we're clear?"

"We're clear. This is a blind spot, in any case." As such, in the dream world, no one will notice them at all. Exhaling, Albert starts maneuvering his billowing clothing in order to check his cybernetics over. They feel like Gilmore's work, but he can't be certain he didn't imagine far worse at the hands of the Captiol.

He's not ignoring Riley so much as attending to something he feels is more urgent at the moment, but it certainly feels like ignoring.

He'd ask if Albert isn't injured but by the looks of it, the guy's got more an eye on those mechanical parts. He knows his own wings in and out, but he's not sure he'd want to dive in and mess with someone's arms and legs without the right tools and a little more know-how.

If he didn't know better, he'd think he was being ignored. He's not all sure that that isn't the case but that's never really stopped him before, not with anybody. He imagines, like most, Albert would expect more joking and wisecracking.

"Hey man. I was wondering." He hopes that will get him attention. "Just in case all this goes tits up, I don't know how." He does know. "...You think you can pass a message for me? To Sammy?"

Edited 2015-12-17 06:24 (UTC)

That does get Albert's attention, the cyborg stopping with a small panel flipped up on his wrist to look at Riley with undivided attention. When he answers, it's with a subdued relevancy that you would find in someone waiting for a deathbed message. "Of course."

He wishes it wasn't. He wishes this didn't remind so strongly of all that. It's not supposed to be over. He doesn't want this to be over. He swallows hard.

"Tell him that... I don't regret it, flying with him." He wouldn't change that. He wouldn't undo that part for a better ending. He won't give up his wings.

"Tell him I still got his back. No matter what happens."And he's never going to give up on Sam.

Edited 2015-12-20 17:31 (UTC)

It's then, after a pause, that he starts to smirk. "And tell him that he lost a bet. I look way better in a hat than he does. He's just gonna have to stick to sunglasses. Make sure you really rub it in too." This is definitely the most important part of all this and Albert best know it.

It's what he expected, right down to the joke at the end that's supposed to lighten the message but instead succeeds in stinging the eyes. "I'll tell him."

Albert drops his arms to his sides, foregoing looking himself over. It's an act, anyway. He knows he's fine, physically, because his body isn't actually here. He's all psyche, and so is Riley. In lieu of giving an all too serious reply, and because the details are fading out around them, Albert instead gives Riley a rueful, sympathetic smile.

"You figured it out, didn't you. At least partially."

"Figured out what?" He says. He can see the details around fading out, going dark and dim and distant. He swallows hard and steels himself, keeping his hands still as he can at his sides.

"How well you're working those robes? Or maybe how much the world's gone crazy. Your main man stealing my rep... no, no, wait, I got it." He keeps a wry grin upon his face, despite the race of his heart. "It's the massive crush you're starting to get for me. Don't worry. Your secret is safe. I won't tell a soul. Well, maybe Mum. You know how moms are, always worrying."

Some of the wryness slips away. He looses some of his shield. Maybe that's okay, just for now. "Take care, Pistol fingers. Let yourself laugh sometimes. Doctor's orders."

"Maybe sometimes."

He doesn't sigh, exactly. It's something more akin to sympathy; even if he doesn't exactly know how to respond to Riley's wisecracks, he knows why he makes them. It's a cover up tactic. GB used to use it on them too, a deflection mechanism to hide his insecurities, his pain, and his fear.

"I'll make sure he knows, Riley. I swear it to you." It's all he can think to do, reiterate that promise as the world turns to nothing and he knows he should be moving on to his actual objective.

But some things are important, and worth a delay, and Albert doesn't leave until he's certain he's alone.

His breath hitches a little. He's got to fight to keep the sound smooth, keep his face clear and neutral at the very least. It's harder than it should be. It's harder than it's ever been.

There's a lot he wants to ask that won't give him answers. His family, what Sam's been up to, what the hell is going on in their world. There's just as much he might even be willing to plead. He doesn't want to go, there might be some way out, whether he will see his mother and when. At least he wants to know he's not in hell.

His heart pounds loud enough he can here it. Ba-bump, ba-bump. "Good," He says to that first bit. Ba-bump. "Thank you," He says next. There's nothing left now he hasn't already said.

He doesn't want to, but he steps back, into the fading world where he starts to fade with it. Ba...bump. He curls his fists, closes his eyes. He tries to hear Sam in his head and feel wind under his wings. He'll be alright. He's Redwing. He'll be gone before anyone can hear a flat line.

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Once Upon A Dream - 4th wall

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