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.
no subject
There's an awkward moment as she tries to imagine how that works, which one she is talking to. You can barely get two people to agree on something, it must be difficult to speak with one voice. That doesn't explain the glowing eyes and the body that seems to be rotting. Or perhaps it does. She's not entirely sure.
"Have you always been this way?"
no subject
Warriors whose deaths he could remember clearly, as if it had actually been him rather than them.
"Have you always been the way you are now?"
He doesn't mean it as any kind of snarky remark. He's met many people who changed states of being, so the concept is far from new to him.
no subject
Meulin smiles uncertainly. Has she always been this way. It's a strange question and provokes at least a bit of serious thought.
"I have always been me. I'm usually deaf but...dream logic. But I'm someone else in different universes. So that's a hard question to answer."
no subject
He raises a withered eyebrow.
"Usually deaf? There are times when you are not?"
no subject
She clasps her hands in front of her, fingers fidgeting against each other.
"Are all the people you were gone now?"
no subject
Why would she think any of his souls would be absent? He'd had a couple forcibly torn from him once, and had literally lost a little of himself in the process. To lose all of them was to literally come apart as a being.
"Do you not know sign language?"
no subject
She signs 'thank you' and 'you're welcome' and lets her hands fall still. She's still in the Capitol's dream after all.
"And well, I did mean to ask if they were dead. I suppose it was a silly question if they're all part of you now."
no subject
He means no offense; it just seemed strange not to offer their Tributes the same procedures that were apparently available to their own citizens.
"They died in battle, or during torture sessions."
no subject
And since they seem to be having a conversation and not a little chat before she passes through, she settles down onto the grass in a heap of white fabric and sets her hands in her lap.
"And the methods are varied but all expensive. I've looked into it since my arrival but I've not had the time to save for it." It's an excuse really, since it's a little scary to think about it when she had gotten used to the idea of being this way forever.
no subject
He shifts his weight a bit, since it's clear that he's not going to get to meditate for a while.
"Perhaps you could find a Sponsor to pay for it."
no subject
"We all get used to circumstances, I suppose. Especially when we live them for many years. Which is why I suppose, I have not fixed my ears. But I'm not a Tribute. I am from District Four."
no subject
"You are a local?"
Well, that was certainly different. He'd never really spoken to any of the locals before; there just hadn't been much point.
no subject
"Surely you know the Districters are not the same as the Capitolites. We aren't seen in at all the same light. So I am not local to the Capitol, but I am a citizen of Panem."
no subject
Which doesn't bother him in the least. As far as he's concerned, having a social heirarchy helped to keep the society as a whole healthy. The lower classes did the mundane work, the nobility and warlords oversaw and organized the work of the lower classes, the military protected everyone, and the Emperor ensured that everything worked the way it should.
"You must be a commoner."
Again, no judgement. The commoners here were to the aristocracy back home in terms of their education, anyway.
no subject
"You could say that. I'm in the Capitol on a visa, allowing me to stay and work. I suspect you've met people from the Districts though. Every Mentor is!"
no subject