(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

[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 ]