[Reboot] Tales from Driftmoore

BlookyHannah

Well-Known Member
Member
Fuck it's cold. Lucy's shivers betray her composure, suddenly sensitive to the shock of the water. This bothers her more than the searchlights, more than Mr. Spaghetti, more than the absurdities. It's full feeling, down to her bones, and it smells. Fortunately she can stomach smells. The cold is too much. Her teeth chatter as she trudges on, following the group to shallower waters. Tomorrow feels far away. It didn't feel so far from within The Cove. The present becomes all consuming as a completely different Driftmoore unfolds.

Page seems to lose the strength on her right side more and more in correlation with the decrease in depth. Lucy assists Matthew and secures the shoulder on her weak side before stepping up to the cliff. Ooof. Her foot wobbles but keeps traction. She can barely manage it but she's not about to be useless. She's not about to be PC and ask if assistance is even needed, either - but she wagers she'll have to be nicer about it in the waking world. The moment they're out of the water she leaves Page to Matthew's arms, not nearly as skinny as hers. She looks back to the water, watching for more ominous splashing. Then she decides that whatever it is may chase them out of the water. She squats over the edge of the water and raises the frying pan above her head, watching intently. She has no intention of disabling it completely, but it might give them a boost in the race, if nothing else.

"Don't worry, I speak whale," Lucy says, tone flat and uncharacteristic of the character she's quoting.
 

Requiem

Well-Known Member
Member
Her grip on the knife grew looser.

As they walked, the group passed houses, buildings, familiar structures revealing the folds and flaps of Driftmoore, the characteristic fat of a small town growing sour with time rather than rich with history. The world they were in was not the quaint hamlet Page had grown accustomed to. The Cove was clear, but this change was even more apparent as she walked through flooded streets with familiar buildings towering over her, almost looming in their own way. The windows of those buildings threatened to shine like the light in her hand and the group dodged them as best they could.

Soon the buildings gave way to a sheer cliff, a drop off that meant certain death. It was at this moment the knife fell from Page's hands, the tip clinking with a soft, almost overjoyed cry against the rocks. The bloodied blade flew freely over the edge and down, down, down into the chasm below. An image of a cane popped into Page's mind, flashing too quickly for her to be sure it was her own. It was more than an image. It was a thought.

In an instant, the feeling of the cane swelled within Page's mind and her knee gave out. She could no longer walk. The confidence she felt had passed, something Page felt more than grateful for she decided. Behind her eyes, a set of lips crusted open.

She could feel a smile that wasn't her own resting on her mind as if someone had pressed their mouth against the back of her eyes. She stumbled. She felt arms carrying her. She looked up to see Lucy and Matthew carrying her, though Matthew seemed to take on most of the weight himself eventually.

"We've gotta get out of here. Walking is the least of our worries right now." Page pointed her light towards a darker spot in the water. Her finger hovered over the power button.

No one wanted to see what that light might reveal.
 

Tirin

God-Emperor of Tealkind
Moderator
Though the water was foul and frigid and the circumstances dire, Victor found the group's tense sneaking through the... ruins(?) of Driftmoore among the most bearable parts of their dream thus far. It was preferable to the warped, moving book that had haunted him the night previous and begged for his help - and not even comparable to any chance of seeing her, or whatever writhing, hellish approximation of her this fucked-up nightmare would deliver. Matthew supporting himself between him and Yu - it was the water, he dimly realized, that had him so unnerved - made him feel... dependable, too. That was unfamiliar, especially in the past few months, and more than welcome.

Victor avoided speaking as much as possible, instead acting as point man by making gestures for them to follow him around a corner or across streets; his drive was such that he hardly paid attention to them, however, and so he failed to notice as Page started falling behind. The sound of splashing water drew his attention, his eyes widening as he pointed the shotgun roughly toward its source (and down somewhat, in fact, so that whatever this thing was would have a hard time following them), flicked the safety, and hurried out of the water himself. With little other choice but to put the others between himself and... whatever was lurking in that darkness, Victor stood closest to the "shore" with the gun shouldered. At least he was furthest from the cliff.

"Yeah... any bright ideas? Pun, uh, not intended." He mumbled, forgetting his discipline and laying his finger on the trigger, more concerned with being able to get off a shot quickly than the, in his eyes, extremely low risk of hitting something undesired. "Because all I've got is one of you taking a look around - I'm a liiittle preoccupied, and I'd prefer we don't settle on the quick way down. I hate falling dreams."
 

Jeroth

Mach Ambassador
Moderator
The Cliff of Driftmoore - The Witching Hour

The splashing grew fiercer as the five of them stood on the edge of the cliff, overlooking a murky abyss. A soft suckling sensation wrapped around the ankle of Victor and Lucy. The feeling faded as swiftly as it had arrived. A piercing gaze surfaced from the water. Her pallid skin bloated as it was a contrast to the bright red lipstick smeared on her cracked lips.

"Victor.."

It seemed to groan as it took a step forward.

. . .


A murky figure could be made out beneath Lucy. A tuft of tabby fur, darkened by the water as a small dark tail jutted out from the other side.

The chilling wind blustered against those on the cliff. Each gust was a new attempt to push them over the edge.
 

coolpool2

Savage AF
The Original Gangster
Yu stumbles back towards the cliff trying to stay balanced against the wind as both of her hands tightly grip her cleaver in front of her. She lets out a squeak as her entire body shakes in fear, staring wide eyed at the otherworldly person. Her mind races, trying to find a solution, a way out. Before she knows it her feet hit the edge of the cliff as she looks down at the abyss.
 

Elliot

Confirmed Robot
Member
They reached the edge of the shore, onto dry land, and though it was abundantly clear their troubles weren't over, just that much made Matthew feel instantly more solid, firm, and grounded in reality. The hill that he'd been climbing towards, the balcony that had served as their beacon -- that was gone now, replaced with this yawning abyss before. The idea of falling off the edge there was frightening, surely, and there was no telling what lay below, just as there was no telling what lay underneath the waters they'd just pulled themselves out from. But the idea of returning was more unthinkable than pressing on, even as there was no longer any straightforward escape from the lake and what lay beneath.

Page and Victor were right that they needed to keep moving, but as Matthew turned, he spotted Yu, standing at the edge of the cliff, despite the wind buffeting them. He pressed the book of Johnathan Jaynes wordlessly into Page's free hand which was no longer holding the knife; despite the way she'd mistreated it earlier, he had to trust in her to keep it safe now with no other option. "Yu!" he called, as he grabbed her by the arm, pulling her back from the edge. "Come on, help. Victor, Lucy, we need to go, this way." He picked the direction to the right when facing away from the water. The wind was strong. Holding onto the others now was not a means of providing security to himself, but rather of helping them to withstand the danger of falling and of helping Page to walk. If the wind picked up, or the ground crumbled beneath them, they could hold onto one another. And they needed to move as fast as possible if they wanted to have any chance of escaping.

Though he didn't see what it was in the water, he knew just as well as any of them that they needed to get away from it. If there was not a way before them, they'd have to find a way around, a way down, by continuing along the path between the water and the cliff's edge. "If you're going to use that light, Page, find us a way to go."
 

BlookyHannah

Well-Known Member
Member
Lucy feels a slippery sensation at her ankles and remembers a garter snake in the cemetery back in Sacramento. But they don't usually swim, or smell - and this is so far removed from that cozy past that the thought only lasts for a fraction of a second. There's something in the water and she's got a good enough angle to whack it, so she does. The advantage in elevation and the weight of the pan allow her a firm strike on the tuft of hair in the water, and the edge of the metal creates a sharp splash. She backs up a few steps. It's clear from her expression that her own course of action has surprised her a little.

"Any luck on a way out of here?" Lucy asks, glancing over her shoulder. "I'd be okay with waking up, too."

She scoots further up the cliff, trying to stick with the group and resist the wind. For whatever reason, he eyes keep landing on Victor. She's all too curious to know how he's reacting to further murderous ex-girlfriend vibes. If that is, in fact, what's going on.
 

Tirin

God-Emperor of Tealkind
Moderator
A shiver ran through Victor's body alongside the strange, sticky sensation about his ankle, but he did all he could to pay it no mind. It disappeared completely but a moment later as one-half or so of his most recent ex-girlfriend's head emerged from the seemingly-endless depths. The apparition shambled forward one-half of a step before a crack rang out alongside the businessman pulling the trigger; dark as it was he didn't see the gory details beyond a reddish tint added to the water and her gaze turning slightly downward. He leapt back as he fired, nearly tipping over the edge of the cliff (and, had he bowled into them, damning any other part of the group), but managed to catch himself while gasping in surprise, even as the strange world's biting wind cut him to his bones.

"We... we've gotta get out of here." He growled, while the echo of the shotgun's first shell sounded for miles around the group. Victor didn't spend the effort to agree with Matthew verbally, nor did he even take what little time he might require to consider doing so. Instead, he bolted down the path to the right (though it was, at least, the one which the smaller of the two men had indicated), keeping as close an eye on the ground as he could to avoid falling and trying to ensure that he didn't make too many splashes in this physically-impossible dreamland. It didn't occur to him that Page was in rough shape, nor that on the whole his presence would be useful or comforting - only that it was a good idea to get a solid distance from the monster he had seen and to slip another shell into the shotgun, ensuring that he would be safe (or as safe possible, at least) from the woman who had torn his life apart. He couldn't handle her doing it again.
 

Jeroth

Mach Ambassador
Moderator
The Cliff of Driftmoore - The Witching Hour

The sound of gunfire rang out against the dream before splashing could be heard. Wriggling creatures diving into the depths. The frozen wind chilling bone and flesh before suddenly ceasing. The sounds of splashing and their heavy breaths being the only noises before an unnatural silence. Fear washing down their backs as their skin crawled in the calm. The ground beneath of them shaking and splintering as the two broken moons connected in the sky above. A sickly light illuminating the earthly basin of Driftmoore as massive, trembling waves careened and crashed against the town. The rumbling and splintering of wood and stone bombarding their ears. An inhuman wail gnawing at their minds as an intangible creature breached from the lake. Their eyes focusing on it, trying to comprehend the unfathomable.

The broken earth shattered beneath of them as darkness engulfed them. A warm, sticky sensation dripping down their face as their bodies fell for hours.


The Witching Hour has Ended.


- - - - - - - - -

Day 1; March 19th, 2018. 7:00 AM

Yet another peaceful morning. The people of Driftmoore wake up for their morning coffee and diner food, visiting the Cove or staying at their homes. There is little worry within Driftmoore as they enjoy their small, quiet town.
 

coolpool2

Savage AF
The Original Gangster
Her body shot up in bed as she breathed heavily trying to get her bearings. She gently pushed her hair to the side of her head as her mind calmed down. Just a nightmare… or was it? My dreams usually aren’t so real, well it wouldn’t hurt to try and meet up anyways. Nothing ventured nothing gained. Letting out a yawn she slowly turned to her clock as she stretched her arms towards the sky. Ugh, I woke up late. In a bit of a hurry Yu gets herself dressed and tidies up her appearance, taking a moment to stop in front of the mirror, staring at herself. It was a dream but, what’s with this sense of dread I have. Her expression turns sour as she starts to remember the things she saw and experienced. Wishing from the bottom of her heart that it was just a dream and didn’t mean anything. Her hands hit her cheek with a loud slap. No! Cheer up Yu, got to stay positive! She forces a smile on her face and pumps her fist in the air. With a renewed skip in her step she hops down the stairs and cooks up a breakfast for her family before heading out to take care of some business then meet up with the strangers from her dream.
 

Requiem

Well-Known Member
Member
Monday. Early morning. It was time for work.

Page sat up in bed and swung her legs down to the floor. Her bed was wet, the pillow soaked with drool, and her hair damp with sweat. Had she pissed herself in her dream? A cautious sniff said no, but she'd certainly been scared out of her mind as she fell... fell... fell...

If it was just a dream, it was too real. If it wasn't just a dream... Page pulled her nightstand open and grabbed a small notepad she owned, writing down the names of the people she had seen, brief descriptions of how they looked. She knew she recognized them as a few people she had run into yesterday, but she didn't think that her brain had conjured up images of people she had seen for the sake of making such an intense, realistic dream. Something had happened.

She got to her feet and collapsed to the ground. After such an intense nightmare, Page could feel her knee had given out earlier than normal. She reached up and grabbed her cane, hoisting herself up on it with her somewhat impressive upper body strength. Once she was standing, she got on with her day, getting showered and dressed before reaching the door. It was time to go to work...

Page knew that didn't mean back to the magazine office. She had to find the people from her dream. She had a story on her hands and it was bigger than any wildlife article she could spit out in a weekend.
 
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Tirin

God-Emperor of Tealkind
Moderator
As though repeating the day before, Victor sat up bolt upright in his bed, heart pounding as he brought a hand up to his face. Some deep part of him expected blood as he pulled it away, but all he felt and saw was cold sweat shining in the morning light while the smooth notes of Lee Harvey Osmond rang about the room. He reached back to flick the alarm off, chest rising and falling as he took deep breaths and took the opportunity to get his bearings, looking at the screen to try to orient himself a little bit. It was Monday morning; March the 19th. A few parts of his dream - no, not his dream, the dream - came rushing back to him with nausea-inducing clarity, namely the book and its contents. That meant... two days to get Jonathan to some kind of safety, even though they had no idea how to keep safe themselves.

The businessman sighed and pulled himself out of bed, heading to the bathroom to do his business and get himself clean and classy for the day ahead. Just before entering the showing he paused and went back to his phone, using a notepad app to record the less emotionally disturbing and (possibly) incriminating details in brief. Dream with a book of human skin; describes details of a friend's life. Book mentions a tree oozing blood-red sap and we see a picture of the same. Meet four strangers and end up experiencing some of our fears, how are we all connected? Have they been brought into my nightmares? What was that... thing... at the end, and how does this all relate to Driftmoore?

Relatively satisfied with his notes, Victor saved the file and took his second arbitrarily-long shower in as many days, enjoying the steaming warmth compared to the unwholesome, sticky sensations that the dream had ended with. He slipped out, coated his scar, and began to get dressed when he was struck by a sudden sense of paranoia: none of them knew precisely what was happening (or so he hoped), but similarly they had no idea who or what might. A shiver ran down his spine as he was reminded of the comparison to Lovecraft; he decided that he would try to appear normal, despite the strange circumstances of the meeting, and so put on a crimson tie while getting dressed. It was 8:15am when he left the apartment, finely-dressed and carrying the morning paper and his briefcase as he headed to the Bean's Knees, confident that nobody watching him would suspect anything out of the ordinary.
 

Elliot

Confirmed Robot
Member
When Matthew woke in the morning, it was with a sense of extreme exhaustion. His dream hadn't ended abruptly when they'd fallen; it felt an eternity had passed between that moment and the one in which he opened his eyes. There was an uncharacteristic lethargy in his movements, then. He lay in bed for some time, recalling the strange events of the dream and trying to fit them together. Jonathan Jaynes. A forewarning of a murder, and a call for help. From there things had... progressed? devolved? into something still stranger. The feeling of the water was an easy thing to bring back to mind, but he forcibly shoved it away, recalling instead that strange being, the figures that had followed it. Could they be connected, somehow? Was it as simple as a dream about things falling to ruin after a terrible thing comes to pass, and the meaning of the details was less important?

Most of all, what he focused on was the people he'd met in the dream. Victor, Lucy the barista, Yu, Page... Those were real people, and the most actionable clue to what was to come. They'd agreed to meet again at the coffee shop, and Jonathan Jaynes the real man was connected to Victor in some way. That was motivation enough to convince Matthew to rise, finish his morning routine, prepare himself breakfast, and then set out for the Bean's Knees. The printshop would have to remain closed that day.

"Hey! It's Lucy, isn't it?" he asked when he spotted the redheaded woman who'd been in his dream last night, behind the counter once again. "You remember everything, too? I think it's important that we should be able to contact one another, first of all." He grabbed a napkin from the service counter and started to scribble his number down, turning when he heard the door open again to see Victor enter the building. For some reason that gave him the feeling of greatest relief.

"Ah, and it's you. When is your meeting today? And what do you suppose we should do? He might be more inclined to listen to multiple people saying he's in serious danger, than just the one." He spoke without prelude; there was no point in reconfirming everything before getting to what was really important.
 
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