Fantasy Living the Dream (Open slots! PM for info)

[marorda]

​

Something is stirring in the shadows. An energy, a power that possibly shouldn’t be there. But yet it is. A new wind blows through the world, and not this world alone. The difference between the worlds of our dreams and the ones we live in is but a thin border. A veil separating the possible from the impossible, the reality from things only our minds could make up. And when that border starts to grow thinner and thinner, sometimes even seemingly fading… when things from the deepest and darkest corners of your mind suddenly make their appearance in your day to day life… that’s there things get interesting. And I don’t mean that in a particularly good way. The ever growing thinner of the Veil is serious business. Nobody knows what happens if the Veil fades entirely, if the Wall between the Worlds shatters. I am not all-knowing, nor am I all-seeing. But I see both realms, I see the consequences… and like many others even I have started to doubt.

Is the world you live in the real world, or is it all just a dream? And would that make the world in your dreams the real world? Without a clear Veil, it might become hard to tell the truth from the lies, the reality from dreams and fantasies. Are we all living our dreams, or are we dreaming our lives? Two worlds known to us… Terrea and Earth. Earth and Terrea. A dreamworld and a real world. But… which one is which? Is there even such a thing as an absolute truth? Reality and Dreams, Dreams and Reality…. Again the question arises: which one is which?

- The Watcher

***

We all remember, somehow, vague as in a dream, having spoken to someone... or was it something? Nobody recalls exactly what the entity was, or what their exact words were. Just a warning, about fading veils and shattering walls, about danger lingering in the shadows. Words of a lunatic, seemingly. But yet we remember. There is an urge and importance to the words we heed from our dreams. Or aren't they dreams at all anymore? It becomes so hard to tell when your dreams become more and more vivid until they seem to be reality.​

 

[marorda]

Eleana gazed up at the seemingly endless abyss stretching far and wide above her. Everywhere she could possibly look, was the endless sky filled with three moons and thousands - if not many more - stars shining their light upon the currently peaceful and slumbering world so very far below them. A cool night breeze blew softly in her face, letting her hair dance lightly in the wind. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she shifted her gaze from the stars to the torch-lit village down the hill. They had rebuild, and for this night they were at peace. Eleana still clearly recalled the war in the foothills, little over four decades ago now. To an elf like her, four decades was only a small fraction of time, but to the mostly humans living there, it was at least two generations. The nights were so much less peaceful then: screams of terror and agony, smells of blood, decay, and death filled the air. High fires of burning villages shone much brighter than the stars above. And now... now the only sound filling the night was the crickets hiding in the tall grass around her.


But besides the memories of this world, her world Terrea, what she had always considered the only real world, there were also other memories... Just as vivid as any moment she remembered from being here. Memories of a distant world, with objects and rules and people she could not even fathom. But always, always those memories were like a dream of many years ago, forgotten for the most part. Like any other dream you forget upon waking up. But the details that lingered at the back of her mind, at the very edge of remembrance, were so real. Immense and realistic, almost too realistic for a dream. But... that's what they had to be, right? Metal horseless carriages were an impossibility, and so were the metal creatures in the sky, or the boxes with people inside. But it all seemed to make sense in some odd way. In her dreams she knew the names of the creatures, had ventured in them.


So on the one hand there were the memories of the wars she had seen, the people she had met, all the things she had been through. And on the other hand were the memories of another young woman. One who slept through a loud noisy device, causing her to be late for an important exam...


It were two entirely different worlds, entirely different lives. But one of these two worlds HAD to be a dream, right? In the past few years -or had it only been weeks to months?- she had started to question a lot; the things she saw, the people she knew and still met. Which one was the dream, and which one was real? It became harder and harder to tell the difference. Harder to see the truth.


There was another distant memory, somewhere on the edge of her mind, also at the very edge of remembrance, slipping away from her just before she could grasp it, only to return just as she was about to forget entirely, and to slip away again as she tried to grasp it. What was that lingering thought, important enough to remain, but vague enough to keep on fading? Fading... just like the line between the worlds she knew. It seemed to spark a small something. Someone had told her about the Veil fading, whatever that was supposed to mean. She was warned of a danger, something ancient and evil lingering in the shadows of the realms. But the details... they were too vague to be recalled.


Soon enough she'd wake up in that other world, hopefully not late for her exams this time. Or was the exam time already over?


Terrea and Earth. Earth and Terrea. A traveling elf bard collecting stories and myths, songs and legends, and a human graphic design college student who was told to have too much fantasy. Lives with friends, with family, with memories. And the differences could impossibly be bigger. Magic and technology. Vast cities and small villages. Almost direct opposites, and yet with a strange kind of harmony. And if the warning she had heard was to be believed, whatever it was that lingered endangered that harmony.

 

[StoneWolf18]

The Doctor, as she was known as to just about everyone, sat in the personal back room of her small clinic. It was a late, and she needed to sleep, though was reluctant to lean back in the chair and close her eyes because of the odd happenings when she falls asleep. Dreaming vividly was one thing, waking in another word and going about another life was something else entirely. Her other self was convinced that this was all a dream and the other more advanced world was reality though she had been doubting herself lately. They had amazing medical practices, interesting ways of transportation, the lack of magic, and she could speak. That was resented the most. If they were both the same wouldn't that mean the scar would be deep enough to affect them both? Or maybe were they still entirely different and just having a connection on a mental level? Shaking her head briefly, Doc was straining herself over this a bit too much. Removing her mask and setting it on the small, parchment cluttered desk, she leaned back and let her eyes remained fixed upon the ceiling.

 

[FloatingAroundSpace]

It was dark when Elena began closing up shop, taking out a broom to sweep aside the dirt that had been tracked in by customers and any dust that had accumulated from outdoors. She tidied up the jars of dried leaves, twigs, and various other plants and examined the containers of ground up paste to check which ones she would need to refill later. She made a note that a few herbs would have to be picked up the next day and with a pass of her hand, locked the wooden crate that contained her golden coins. Elena picked up the basket that contained her emptied products and headed back to her small cottage just down the street, relishing in the quiet night air. The trees and grass were even asleep, their bodies moving gently in the breeze. Elena smiled slightly as she passed them, entering her home and shutting the door, placing her basket on the floor and going about her evening routine, picking plants that blossomed at night and leaving them out to dry before pouring water over herself to rinse any dirt or sweat off. In her dreams, she did this often, almost religiously, every evening. She didn't understand why she dreamed of water coming from strange metal thing all the time. It was confusing as why her mind found that something to fixate on, along with strange mechanical things and a lack of plants. Perhaps it was a nightmare, to show her how life might be if she was not careful, full of dark black roads with yellow and white lines instead of flowers.


Putting the thoughts away, she climbed into bed and stared at the ceiling, waiting to drift off.

 

[Vivification]

A flat iron, recently pulled from a fire, was applied to an open wound. A cut was burned shut. Wincing slightly, Argent gently rubbed the burned skin on his right shoulder, before falling backwards onto a straw bed. The fire crackles. He had set up camp outside Hollydale and planned to sleep beyond the eyes of strangers. It's not that he didn't like the people, he just had a feeling they wouldn't like singular people. Perhaps he was just paranoid. He had already committed to setting up a fire, though, so he figured he might as well follow through. Sighing, he stuck the iron flat into the fire, and rubbed his burned shoulder again. He rifled through a stack of drawings. Recently, he has taken to keeping a little box of papyrus sheets; it was good to have paper on hand when inspiration strikes. At the very least, it was practice.


Argent pulled out a sheet. He had doodled these when he had woken up yesterday. An odd day it was, for the dreams were much more vivid; they were usually just blurs, the idea of an object hidden among them.

Spoiler

​

The sketches were strange, alien, but perhaps that was why he liked them. They were fascinating concepts. A glowing box, filled with a tiny world of its own. A painting that seemed to move. Fascinating. The only picture that bothered him was the cloaked figure. It seemed out of place, like it didn't belong.


What put him on edge was that it spoke to him, a rare occurrence in his dreams. Argent couldn't recall what he was told, only that it was pertinent and dangerous. But nothing more could be remembered.


Sighing, Argent laid the pieces of paper to the side and fell backwards into straw. He laid there for a few moments, letting the crackle of the fire lull him to sleep.

 

[nabilasarah13]

Cendis had been sitting under a Hexys tree for hours now. She was working on a painting of Nex, her half-bird boyfriend who ended up in her village because of his broken wing.


Poor Nex, he was accidentally met an angry dragon while flying across the lands and had his wing burned-out by the dragon's breath.


Poor Nex, he met Cendis who was also as dangerous as the dragon.


Poor Nex, his body was all burned-out by her wrath fire.


Curse her.


Curse her who misused the gift from the God of Fire.


Hopefully she would end up being alone and exiled for the rest of her life.





Cendis closed her eyes. None of it do any better. Not this world, not her impossible-like dream world. 'What does it called? Earth? Why don't I just have a peaceful and happy life there? That world isn't any better than mine. Is it a dream? It must be is. The memories of that world is just too vague for me to be a real world. It must be a dream. Yes it is.'

 

[marorda]

Eleana spotted the fire near the village named Hollydale. The village was lit by torches, and silhouettes of guards walked the narrow roads to ensure the would be no spars to set the roofs ablaze, and to keep the possible wandering creatures of the night away from the people resting in their homes. But this fire seemed larger, and further removed from the houses. Another camp, perhaps? A fellow traveler on the road, planning to stay in Hollydale? Or possibly move on to another city further away, somewhere behind the hills? For now it mattered not. Eleana had been on the road alone for too long as it was. She would appreciate company and, let's be honest, the warmth of a fire. She picked up her backpack and made her way over to the fire she spotted.


"Good evening," she spoke quietly to the silhouette of a person laying on a straw bed and set her backpack down on the ground. "I hope you do not mind if I join you at the fire?" Without really waiting for an answer, she sat herself down in the grass, glancing at the person beyond the flames. "They say it isn't wise to travel the roads alone these days," she said. "I suppose I'm not in the position to judge since I'm alone also, but... might I ask why you're on your own, and what brought you to this quaint place in particular?" Chatting up to total strangers wasn't unusual for her. As a bard she spoke to many she met on the roads, most to never encounter again. Her curiosity always made her ask them the same questions: where they had come from, where they were headed, what their stories were... More often than not they inspired her to head to new places, to learn and discover more than she already had. And occasionally.. occasionally it would give her temporary company, be it through a shared interest, a common destination, or a similar goal.


But what was her story of coming here? For some reason Eleana couldn't answer that to herself. She would often go wherever the wind led her. But this time... this time something else brought her here. She could just... feel it. How, she did not know. There was a reason for her being here.


If the man, at least Eleana assumed it was a man, judging by the silhouette, was awake, he could answer the questions if he wished, or remain silent and pretend to sleep. Maybe he was already sleeping, it was hard to tell in the dark. But after sitting there for a while, Eleana started to feel drowsy. As if... as if something wanted her to sleep.


***


A question echoed in all their minds, spoken in an indistinguishable voice. Spoken softly and distant. A simple question, just three words, although with the current events there might be so much more to it... Are you awake?


***


Eleana opened her eyes only to see darkness around her. A place where color didn't seem to exist. A huge moon was visible in the sky beyond the gates. Two sets of gates made from stones and dark metal. And between them... a figure in a dark cloak, the cloak flowing behind them in a nonexistent wind. Eleana looked over her shoulder to see behind her. The edge of a rocky platform with nothing but darkness below it. A bottomless pit. A void, if you will. Beside her she spotted others, vague, almost see-through, like ghosts. But she was pretty damn sure nobody here was dead. Except for the stranger in the cloak maybe. It was hard to tell those things when no features were visible at all.


(@Vivification If you want Argent to answer Eleana's questions, go right ahead.


And to everyone: upon hearing the question, everyone drifts off and finds themselves at the Gate)

 

[Vivification]

(Let's say English finals has kept me back a little from being able to type anything. I sincerely apologize for the delay and for the relatively short response. Nah, Argent's knocked out!)


≪Are you awake?≫ The question resounded in his head, the words creaking in the plates of his skull.


The painter opened his eyes, and a world bloomed into existence. He blinked once after realizing that it was unfamiliar to him (he did not remember ever resting in front of silver gates, nor was the sky so brightly lit), twice after realizing that everything was colored with dull shades. He glanced around, and white silhouettes surrounded him. Comforting, until he saw the one in front of him. The unimaginative would probably call it a ghost. Argent would probably describe them as being covered in the soot of misplaced charcoal lines.


Argent simply stared ahead at the being with. . .well, wonder, perhaps? It was an odd mixture of dizzying confusion at being in such an alienating situation and a heady child's wonder at the surrealism of everything. It was bizarre, but not unwelcome.