(closed) and in that sleep of death, what dreams may come

[graftage]

Who: John Steinbeck and everyone who has the misfortune to walk into his dreamland
Where: Leith and Westerley, everywhere pretty much
When: week 6 - 9
Summary: Steinbeck has some dreams. They're not very nice dreams.
Restrictions/Warnings: Body horror verging on gore, violence, murder, Cthulhu, plants, etc. Basically: MESSED UP STUFF.

[This log is a catch-all log for the dreams Steinbeck will be sharing with others! If you want me to write up a unique dream prompt for your character, just PM me or hit me up at vampirize to plot stuff!]

Comments

[rhygret]

Uhhh... [ It's the squeeze that gets to him. The shaking in the dream's background is almost completely negligible, but somehow the pressure around his wrist leaves him feeling a little...off.

Rhys looks down at the pistol in his hand, and then back to Steinbeck. ]

Al...right. I'll work the shot. [ Somehow he doesn't quite want to give the firearm up though. ]

[graftage]

C'mon. I want to try it myself.

[He laughs, the rumbling growing stronger.]

You can't have all the fun, can you?

[rhygret]

Yeah, no, just. Here. [ Rhys moves past him to take up his place at the clay pigeon machine. His hand remains wrapped around the pistol as he moves like he's going to hold it out for Steinbeck, but he doesn't quite complete the action. He hears the rumbling more than he feels it.

It sounds...wrong. ]

[graftage]

Rhys.

[His smirk quirks to the side, a sign of annoyance. So he won't give him the gun, huh? How disappointing.]

[He folds his arms. The sky seems to darken instantly. There's the groan of metal, the sound of something burbling in the waters around them.]

I work for you. Don't you trust me? I've been nothing but loyal to you.

[He reaches out a hand, expectantly.]

Give me the gun.

[rhygret]

I... I think maybe I should hold onto it a little?

[ Rhys doesn't know why. It's a feeling he gets as the boat beneath his feet groans and creaks, like dome great pressure is closing in around it from all sides.

He feels a bit like he's being trapped and herded into some sort of trap, and his hand tightens on the gun even as he struggles to try and shake off the feeling.

Steinbeck is...he's loyal. A good worker. Rhys doesn't have any reason to distrust him.

The gun starts to feel heavier in his palm, like a weight pulling him down. ]

[graftage]

[There's a long pause before Steinbeck suddenly turns to the railing of the boat, speaking out loud - but not to Rhys.]

Hey, Lovecraft, are you doing good down there?

[There's silence, before something slithers up and around the railing, like a particularly slimy snake. It's a tentacle, with large suckers like an octopus. Steinbeck shakes his head and sighs, like he's in the middle of dealing with something slightly aggravating.]

Can you imagine? The boss doesn't want to give me a gun. [He turns his head over his shoulder towards Rhys, the oppressive atmosphere only growing. More tentacles are joining the first one, followed by a low rumbling sound, a drawn-out growl.]

C'mon, Rhys. It's all fun and games here. [The sky shimmers bright blue and green around them.] Don't be a spoilsport. Give it to me.

[rhygret]

W-what, is.... Ohhh no, what is that? Steinbeck? [ Rhys practically groans that is dreaded disbelief, eyes widening as the first black appendage wraps its way around the railing, only to be joined by more a second later.

Rhys doesn't even realize he's taken a step back until after it's happened, and suddenly he can't even think of parting from the firearm. Something inside him wants him to take aim at that--that thing instead. ]

[graftage]

You made a contract with him. I should be the one asking you that.

[He squints at Rhys - he feels like he should be talking to someone else, someone who would understand what he's getting at, here. A tentacle drapes over his shoulder as he thinks, and Steinbeck just reaches up casually to pat it, reassuringly.]

Don't worry, Lovecraft, we're just having a chat. [He sighs.] Anyways, I don't know why, but you're being really annoying.

[He tilts his head to the side, a smirk playing over his face.]

...What, Rhys, are you worried I'll hurt you, or something?

[rhygret]

K...kinda, yeah? [ That innate understanding and feeling of acceptance is wavering, nearly gone. The image of this...this black thing being at Steinbeck's side like it's nothing, like it's normal is Uncanny Valley to him. It's...wrong, somehow.

The urge to take aim is grows stronger the more he looks at it, and eventually Rhys can't help but avert his gaze--to look just to the left of Steinbeck, away from "Lovecraft." ]

I don't know--it's. It's stupid, I know it is. Why is that thing there, again? I don't...remember.

[graftage]

Odd.

[He can't quite put his finger on it. It is odd. Something is out of place. Confusion resonates through the dream momentarily as he steps forward, his frown deepening.]

Some boss you are. You can't even remember your own employees. [He's reaching out again, Lovecraft's tentacles trailing behind him on the deck.]

Give me the gun, and I won't hurt you, Rhys.

[rhygret]

[ What, like he's going to if he doesn't?? How is that supposed to reassure him here? Rhys already finds himself taking another step back when those tentacles follow after Steinbeck, and that's bore the weight of the gun grows even heavier, pulling on his shoulder and dragging him arm down. ]

L-look, Steinbeck wait--

[graftage]

Why are you so stubborn?

[His tone isn't so casual now. In fact, his aura now is sharp, angry, his smile pulled a little too wide to be anywhere near happy.]

I've killed people for you. I've tortured children for you. I've been your servant boy for god knows how long. And you are so egotistical to not even allow me a chance to be on your level.

[He's see someone blond in front of him, with piercing blue eyes. He's not seeing Rhys. Not really.]

[The sky is very dark behind him. A tentacle wraps around Rhys' ankle to keep him in place.]

Give. Me. The gun.

[rhygret]

[ Rhys is starting to panic in the same way anyone does in a dream when the realize it's starting to close in around them. A part of him knows what the outcome is, and everything in his mind struggles against that reality despite accepting its inevitability.

The black limb grabs him and Rhys yanks back with a stressed sound, actively trying to get away now. ]

S, Steinbeck come on man--I didn't do those things, I swear! I don't know what you're talking about, just--just get this thing off me okay??

[ As if he can reason his way out of this, like his words have any weight or meaning in this dream. ]

[graftage]

You're all the same.

[He says this, suddenly, like a realization has just come to him. It makes sense. Why Rhys is here. Why everything seems like this.]

You're all the same! People like you are so caught up in your own pitiful, money-filled lives. Women and children die just to further your own selfish agendas. You give people false hope, and tell them that everything will be alright, as long as you just follow their lead. But you don't care. You never will.

[He finally closes the space between them, reaching out to yank Rhys back painfully by gripping his hair and pulling, keeping him in place so that he won't be able to avert his eyes.]

You're despicable, Rhys. [He says, his expression hollow.] You think you're the highest of the high, but you're no better than trash I find littering the street.

[He lets go of Rhys' hair, smiling, and that's when Lovecraft pulls back, hard, dragging him back towards the railing of the ship.]

[The monster aims to pull him overboard.]

[rhygret]

Wait--no, Steinbeck! Steinbeck--!! Please, I'm sorry! I mean it!

[ Rhys yells, hands scrambling for something, anything to hold onto as he's dragged forward, feet out from under him. His nails scrape the wooden planks but find no purchase, eyes wide with fright and desperation. ]

I didn't know-- [ about Sugar Point ] --I'm sorry! Okay? I'm sorry! [ for everything his family's done, even if he doesn't believe their crimes to be his own. ]

I never meant to hurt anyone!

[ Rhys doesn't even know if what he's confessing to is real or imaginary or the empty promises of a doomed man, and oh god oh gods he's being dragged towards the edge now, this is really it-- ]

S--Steinbeck....!

[graftage]

You didn't know? Or was it that you didn't want to know?

[He stares, dead-eyed as the man struggles and pleads in front of him. He doesn't care. People like Rhys didn't care about him, care about his family. Why should he show any mercy for all the suffering he's felt?]

You all are blind. You see nothing but yourselves. Have you even given a single thought to what you've done?

[Lovecraft's tentacles halt, momentarily, just enough time for Steinbeck to walk up and grin wide.]

Thanks for being my golden goose while it lasted. [He laughs.] I'd say, "see you in hell", but I think Lovecraft has something worse planned for you.

[A pause.]

You really should have given me the gun. Goodbye, Rhys.

[He waves, and that's the last thing that Rhys sees before he's finally pulled over, the sight of something large, slimy and indescribable, with eyes that almost seem like endless holes wraps a million tentacles around him and drags him under the dark ocean, never to return again.]

[rhygret]

[ game over worst dream ever 0/10 would not miss that not-dying QTE again ]