James Potter (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
braveatheart) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
thoughtformed2014-03-02 10:30 pm
braveatheart) wrote in thoughtformed2014-03-02 10:30 pm
Entry tags:
Fiona's catch-all dream log~
Who: England, Julie Grigio, James Potter, Bro Strider
What: Event thingssssss come and play
When: Feb 27th - March 3rd
Warnings: ... All of my characters. Possible nightmare themes depending on who tags.
---
[England]
[You're on a ship. The sea is rough, tossing waves over the deck and drenching the sailors scurrying back and forth to secure the sails and rigging. At the helm is England himself, leaning almost lazily against the wheel as he rides each wave with a slow turn of the ship.
The quartermaster is shouting orders but England is quiet, bright green eyes keen on the horizon and the sunlight filtering through the break in the clouds ahead.]
[Julie Grigio]
[In a trash-strewn street, Julie stands on her own, a gun held in lax fingers by her side. In front of her, there's a corpse, someone who looks like they've been dead for far longer than the fact Julie just shot them would suggest. The blonde girl sighs, rubbing one hand over her face and smearing blood across her cheek as she crouches and turns the body over.
It's a boy, young with dark hair, far younger than Julie herself and yet she seems to know him. Enough that she sits down and draws her knees up to her chest, dropping the gun to the ground.
There's a tension in the air that suggests it isn't safe to be sitting around, but she doesn't appear to care.]
[James Potter]
[It's a quidditch match! James is high above the field, scoring the winning goal as the final whistle blows. He lands with a whoop of triumph and it doesn't matter who you are, friend or stranger, he'll come running over with windswept hair and a gleeful expression on his face.]
Did you see that!? We wiped the pitch with them!
[Bro Strider]
[On the roof of an apartment block in downtown Houston against the backdrop of a setting sun with the sky lit up like fire, someone is watching you. There's no escape, the door to the stairs is locked and the only way down is to jump. You get the feeling that you're not entirely alone, faint footsteps and fleeting shadows tickling the edges of your senses.
If this is Bro Strider's dream, where is he? There's a tingle in the air like anticipation, but you get the feeling it's not you that he's waiting for.
That is, unless your name happens to be Dave Strider.]
What: Event thingssssss come and play
When: Feb 27th - March 3rd
Warnings: ... All of my characters. Possible nightmare themes depending on who tags.
---
[England]
[You're on a ship. The sea is rough, tossing waves over the deck and drenching the sailors scurrying back and forth to secure the sails and rigging. At the helm is England himself, leaning almost lazily against the wheel as he rides each wave with a slow turn of the ship.
The quartermaster is shouting orders but England is quiet, bright green eyes keen on the horizon and the sunlight filtering through the break in the clouds ahead.]
[Julie Grigio]
[In a trash-strewn street, Julie stands on her own, a gun held in lax fingers by her side. In front of her, there's a corpse, someone who looks like they've been dead for far longer than the fact Julie just shot them would suggest. The blonde girl sighs, rubbing one hand over her face and smearing blood across her cheek as she crouches and turns the body over.
It's a boy, young with dark hair, far younger than Julie herself and yet she seems to know him. Enough that she sits down and draws her knees up to her chest, dropping the gun to the ground.
There's a tension in the air that suggests it isn't safe to be sitting around, but she doesn't appear to care.]
[James Potter]
[It's a quidditch match! James is high above the field, scoring the winning goal as the final whistle blows. He lands with a whoop of triumph and it doesn't matter who you are, friend or stranger, he'll come running over with windswept hair and a gleeful expression on his face.]
Did you see that!? We wiped the pitch with them!
[Bro Strider]
[On the roof of an apartment block in downtown Houston against the backdrop of a setting sun with the sky lit up like fire, someone is watching you. There's no escape, the door to the stairs is locked and the only way down is to jump. You get the feeling that you're not entirely alone, faint footsteps and fleeting shadows tickling the edges of your senses.
If this is Bro Strider's dream, where is he? There's a tingle in the air like anticipation, but you get the feeling it's not you that he's waiting for.
That is, unless your name happens to be Dave Strider.]
no subject
[And yet they are both still very much asleep. Lucid dreaming at its finest.
Bro turns his attention out towards the sunset.]
Want to get some ice cream? Baskin Robin's on Highway Six should still be open.
no subject
You're taller in my dreams, man.
[And deader, he doesn't say.]
Can we swing through the apartment first? [He shrugs.] It's been a while.
no subject
Go on, get movin'. Unless you want me to throw you down them for nostalgia's sake.
no subject
[He opens the door and hops down the stairs with his hands in his pockets. In a way, it's reassuring to be in Bro's dream instead of his own. He trusts Bro to keep his shit together. Opening doors tends to be a crapshoot of horror even on Dave's best nights.]
I'm not gonna find any weird Freudian shit in here, am I? I mean. [He pauses at the landing and shoots Bro a dry look over his shoulder.] Any more weird Freudian shit than we lived with on a daily basis.
no subject
[He grins, ruffling at Dave's hair and gently pushing against the back of his head as they go down the stairs.]
No more than you're used to. [And if you believe that, Dave, you're definitely way too gullible.]
no subject
[Dave's mouth pulls skeptically to one side, but he doesn't question the statement. Instead he just opens the door, ready for whatever ninja traps Bro's dreamhouse holds.]
no subject
Bro throws himself onto the couch then makes a small gesture for Dave to look around. He's in no rush. It's his dream. He has all the time in the world.]
no subject
He pauses with his hand on the doorknob, then looks back at Bro.]
You haven't left weird psychic graffiti spoor all over my shit, right? Like, gross insecurities about, I dunno, clowns or cats or something.
no subject
Nah. Nah, kid. I never touched your room. Scout's honour.
[Yeah, like he was ever a Scout...
He's telling the truth, though. Dave would find everything exactly as he remembered it down to every painful detail.
Even the gratuitous selfies.]
no subject
He fondly runs his finger in a circle over one of his old vinyls, still sitting there on his turntables, and straightens a jar out on his shelf.]
Can't get an A/C repairman in even in your dreams, Bro?
[He goes to look at the photos on his clothesline.]
no subject
[He might hear Bro chuckle softly, the faint sound of movement as he stretches out on the couch and makes himself comfortable. Having another presence in a lucid dream is definitely an experience.
Since it's Dave, he doesn't really mind at all.]
Did I miss anythin' in there? [It's an idle question, really. He knows he didn't.]
no subject
[He's taken down a couple of the photos and is biting his lip to keep from cracking up laughing.]
Oh my god. What the hell.
no subject
Would I lie to you?
no subject
[He moves on to the next photo and makes a ridiculous PFFHHGHSNRT sound, and he can't keep the noise in anymore.]
Hahahaha, hahahahaha--fuck, I can't, aHAHahahahahaHAHA--!
[Pop.
The photos float to the floor like a comically-ejected bath towel.
When Bro decides to wake up, he'll have received a text that says:]
hjelp
i cant breathe
i think my eyeballs are running
im scaring the cat hahahahahahahaha
no subject
holy shit kid if id known it would get that kind of reaction i would have reminded you about those things ages ago.
no subject
hahahahaha shit my face is leaking
no subject
are you also suffering from hysterical laughter.
no subject
FUCK
I STILL CANT
HAHAHAHA SURE CATTHEW HIDE UNDER THE BED LEAVE ME TO MY FUCKING IGNOMINOUS DEATH BY COMEDY
AAAAAAAHAHAHAHAHA IM GONNA DIE
no subject