Ermac (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
glowygreendeath) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thecapitol2015-07-27 09:39 pm
glowygreendeath) wrote in thecapitol2015-07-27 09:39 pm
Entry tags:
Do constructs dream of magic sheep?
Who | Ermac and various 4th wall visitors, as well as anyone who wants to tag in
What | 4th wall event
Where | Dreamland!
When | Every night during the Dream Event
Warnings | Gore, violence, and possibly sad times. They're the dreams of a guy made from the souls of thousands of warriors who died in battle; what else were you expecting?
Day One
Ermac can be found waiting in the common area of the District 12 suites, watching the city below from out a window.
Day Two
Visitors will find themselves in one of Outworld's marketplaces, which is bustling with activity despite the intense heat. There are many strange beasts here, but keen-eyed visitors will spot some more convential fantasy races in the crowd as well. There even seem to be a few very beautiful elves in woodland garb, interacting freely with the rougher desert folk despite looking incredibly out of place. Even Ermac doesn't react to the additions to his world.
Day 3
Today there's a beautiful, serene garden. The trees are lush, the grass is soft and a perfect green, the flowers are vibrant and fragrant. Unseen birds can be heard singing in the trees, and there are beautiful koi swimming in a pond full of blooming lily pads. Ermac is sitting under one of the trees, taking advantage of the tranquility to just relax and clear his mind.
Day 4
He's on a train, hurtling toward District 12. He's been on it for quite some time, and he'll arrive at his destination soon, but he can't remember getting on. Does it matter? Probably not. He just watches the scenery fly by, bored but refusing to read the copy of Celebrus on the table in his car.
Day 5
This Arena feels like a joke. Water guns, fake weapons, glitter...there are even butterflies and rabbits running around the meadow. Ermac feels a little insulted.
Day 6
It's freezing, and the air reeks of blood, decay, and a cocktail of truly foul liquids. Old gore and blood are smeared on the stone walls and floor, and blood-stained hooks hang from chains bolted into the ceiling. Everything feels unstable, barely real. Pieces of dissected, mutilated cadavers are strewn across the floor and tables, leftovers from various mad experiments with the dead.
Experiments like him. He feels...wrong. New. Powerful. Overcrowded. He can hear a crowd speaking, screaming, all around him, but he can't see anyone else. He slides off the table, feeling his feet touch the ground for the first time. It all feels...alien. He tries to remember why he's there, but only calls up memories of his death. His many deaths. Over and over, visions of dying in battle, of deaths both instantaneous and agonizing, fast and drawn out, of watching his allies die, of being his dying allies. And the screams! The intensity of the screams makes him fall to his knees and hold his head in a futile attempt to silence them.
Day 7
The dreamscape keeps shifting, moving seamlessly from one war to the next. One minute it's in Edenia, with the last great Edenian warriors making one last stand against Outworld's overwhelming forces. The next, it's in Earthrealm, with Outworld soldiers and war beasts trampling the unprepared Special Forces and riot police in the downtown core of a truly unlucky city. Then, it turns to Outworld's civil war, with brother killing brother in the streets, soldiers breaking into civilian homes that were rumored to be harboring rebels or loyalist agents. The feel of all these wars is the same: there is blood, and it demands more blood. It always demands more blood.
What | 4th wall event
Where | Dreamland!
When | Every night during the Dream Event
Warnings | Gore, violence, and possibly sad times. They're the dreams of a guy made from the souls of thousands of warriors who died in battle; what else were you expecting?
Day One
Ermac can be found waiting in the common area of the District 12 suites, watching the city below from out a window.
Day Two
Visitors will find themselves in one of Outworld's marketplaces, which is bustling with activity despite the intense heat. There are many strange beasts here, but keen-eyed visitors will spot some more convential fantasy races in the crowd as well. There even seem to be a few very beautiful elves in woodland garb, interacting freely with the rougher desert folk despite looking incredibly out of place. Even Ermac doesn't react to the additions to his world.
Day 3
Today there's a beautiful, serene garden. The trees are lush, the grass is soft and a perfect green, the flowers are vibrant and fragrant. Unseen birds can be heard singing in the trees, and there are beautiful koi swimming in a pond full of blooming lily pads. Ermac is sitting under one of the trees, taking advantage of the tranquility to just relax and clear his mind.
Day 4
He's on a train, hurtling toward District 12. He's been on it for quite some time, and he'll arrive at his destination soon, but he can't remember getting on. Does it matter? Probably not. He just watches the scenery fly by, bored but refusing to read the copy of Celebrus on the table in his car.
Day 5
This Arena feels like a joke. Water guns, fake weapons, glitter...there are even butterflies and rabbits running around the meadow. Ermac feels a little insulted.
Day 6
It's freezing, and the air reeks of blood, decay, and a cocktail of truly foul liquids. Old gore and blood are smeared on the stone walls and floor, and blood-stained hooks hang from chains bolted into the ceiling. Everything feels unstable, barely real. Pieces of dissected, mutilated cadavers are strewn across the floor and tables, leftovers from various mad experiments with the dead.
Experiments like him. He feels...wrong. New. Powerful. Overcrowded. He can hear a crowd speaking, screaming, all around him, but he can't see anyone else. He slides off the table, feeling his feet touch the ground for the first time. It all feels...alien. He tries to remember why he's there, but only calls up memories of his death. His many deaths. Over and over, visions of dying in battle, of deaths both instantaneous and agonizing, fast and drawn out, of watching his allies die, of being his dying allies. And the screams! The intensity of the screams makes him fall to his knees and hold his head in a futile attempt to silence them.
Day 7
The dreamscape keeps shifting, moving seamlessly from one war to the next. One minute it's in Edenia, with the last great Edenian warriors making one last stand against Outworld's overwhelming forces. The next, it's in Earthrealm, with Outworld soldiers and war beasts trampling the unprepared Special Forces and riot police in the downtown core of a truly unlucky city. Then, it turns to Outworld's civil war, with brother killing brother in the streets, soldiers breaking into civilian homes that were rumored to be harboring rebels or loyalist agents. The feel of all these wars is the same: there is blood, and it demands more blood. It always demands more blood.
Day 3
The grass is soft under his heels, enough so he almost considers removing them. He runs a hand over the flowers and breathes in their scent. It's a beautiful view. Even with the dreamer sitting right there.
He tilts his head, smiles, and gives a small wave of greeting.
no subject
"Are you staying, or merely passing through?"
His tone is soft, even with his bizarre voice. Whether this visitor stays or not is no bother to him; there's more than enough room for two bodies in this lush garden.
no subject
He waggles his fingers to mime walking across some small distance. Then he shugs helplessly and clasps his hands.
He was going somewhere, but as of now, he is in no particular rush. This is a nice place after all.
no subject
Or did he just choose not to? He'd be severely annoyed if it was the latter.
no subject
So maybe it was a little bit of both.
no subject
"We could remove those, if you want."
no subject
He shakes his head in a firm "no".
no subject
"Then speak or remain silent, as you wish. We are in a dream, after all."
If this impossible place could exist here, then why couldn't someone speak without their mouth?