Dipper Pines (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
ghostharasser) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
sticksandbones2024-07-15 07:24 pm
ghostharasser) wrote in sticksandbones2024-07-15 07:24 pm
Entry tags:
Dreamscape Player Plot
MAY YOU FIND YOUR WORTH IN THE WAKING WORLD
INCEPTUS NOLANUS OVERRATUS
It happens without warning. You're enjoying yet another day, trapped under the ocean in a metal can, waiting to either escape or die, when a scream rings out. Strange, because it almost sounded like it was in your head. What happens next is a deathly silence, a ringing in the ears, and then suddenly reality shifts. Color drains from the world around you, time slowly crawls to a halt, and the cosmos holds it's breath.
A moment ticks by.
Reality exhales and the world bursts forth, warping your environment until it becomes something different, something new. Somewhere you definitely weren't before. Your greatest fantasy or your worst nightmare has come to life, and something has become increasingly apparent: You are not alone. Traverse your fears, your dreams, your secrets with whoever else wound up in this hell with you. Maybe together you can figure a way out, or a way to make it stop.
A moment ticks by.
Reality exhales and the world bursts forth, warping your environment until it becomes something different, something new. Somewhere you definitely weren't before. Your greatest fantasy or your worst nightmare has come to life, and something has become increasingly apparent: You are not alone. Traverse your fears, your dreams, your secrets with whoever else wound up in this hell with you. Maybe together you can figure a way out, or a way to make it stop.
WE'LL MEET AGAIN SOME SUNNY DAY
While moving between dream to dream, a few things start to become apparent: Most, if not all, of the Sea Base has been affected. Every so often, certain edges of the dream will shift to look like a haunted looking old Victorian city. Despite that, before dreams get to be too bad, a lamp will appear with it's small attendants beckoning you over. Touching the lamp will send you either to a new dream, or to ...a house.
The house is empty, though it appears to be well lived in. There are personal affects littered all over, so if one is nosy enough, it will be easy to find things like pictures. Either way, it's a safe space for people to collect themselves in. There's sodas in the fridge, just don't mind the kitchen possums running around.
The house is empty, though it appears to be well lived in. There are personal affects littered all over, so if one is nosy enough, it will be easy to find things like pictures. Either way, it's a safe space for people to collect themselves in. There's sodas in the fridge, just don't mind the kitchen possums running around.
SPARK NOTES
OOC
Hello! Welcome to your Dreamscape plot! Have fun and be as self-indulgent or as terrible as you like, just be sure to tag your CW's appropriately! If you have any questions or concerns you are welcome to DM at [maplecoffe] or hit up my plurk ![[plurk.com profile]](https://plurk.com/favicon.ico)
takatorabatta.
a top level for the Moon Presence showdown will be in a top level below.
UPDATES
❖ None yet!
SUBMISSIONS
no subject
Is it a terrible joke? Absolutely. But the audience's taste? Also terrible. So Wolfwood gets the most over-the-top applause he will probably ever experience in his life. Some of the voices are laughing so hard they're in tears. Some are outright sobbing. The pressure in the room seems to ease off, just a little.
... but this act isn't over yet!! Of course, he should know what to expect.
The crowd begins to settle, and the second page flutters down from the darkness above... whether he hangs on to the first page, or drops it, or whatever, that's up to Wolfwood. The inkwell still comes hurtling down a second later. The pen, too. Remember to catch! Or don't! Try not to get hit, at least!
The poem is the same as before, waiting for its own finale.]
Oranges are nice.
Oranges are soft.
Oranges are frail.
When you look at me I feel like one.
Your fingernail digs into my cheek.
Peel an orange open...
no subject
At least this time he's more prepared for the inkwell and pen to come hurtling from the ceiling, as he catches the page in one hand (the bread one gets dropped, bye bitch) and the inkwell in his other, just barely managing to snag the pen between a pair of free fingers still gripping the paper.
Okay. He hates this. But he has to write something here, right? Maybe if he just...hm...
It takes him a moment to get the inkwell open since he's standing and has his hands full, but somehow he manages to get the pen dipped into it without getting too much ink everywhere. Writing is a different story since he has nothing to press down on, but write he will do.
And what does he write?]
The flesh is sweet underneath.