Forum Thread
The Dream Eaters - Roleplay
Forum-Index → Roleplay → The Dream Eaters - RoleplayDuring the year or so you had lived on the 'darknesses' of others, you came to find out that it would only last you about a day and a half's worth of life, no matter how old or young the victim was. Today you woke up feeling queasy and weak, meaning today you had to go out and steal yet another life. Today, however, was the day that death would finally find you and force you to go through hell. Tonight, when you fall asleep, the nightmare begins. Right now, most have just woken up to start their day, and you have too. Enjoy it while you can.
If someone told you that he had slept, then they was a liar and someone should really set their pants on fire. HongJoong never slept. That was for the weak and HongJoong was Not weak. Coffee had replaced his blood, he was running on 3 hours of sleep per week, and his eye bags were heavier than his sins. He was unstoppable!
Until he wasn't and his body decided that no, this was getting ridiculous, and had him crash in the wee hours of the night, cheek plastered to the soundboard and drool pooling under his slack jaw. It resulted in an annoying crick in his neck and buttons imprinted onto his face, waking up groggy a few hours later and feeling like a truck had run him over. His head was pounding and he felt gross all over and HongJoong knew that without a doubt it wouldn’t be a good day. With a long suffering groan, he dragged himself off the creaking office chair and stumbled into the run down bathroom, keeping the barely working lights off. His head was killing him, the staccato bursts of pain nothing new as the ocular blot that he had previously missed made itself known. Taking a cold shower in a stall that really should be repaired sooner rather than later and washing down the proper meds was a pain but it was worth the hassle when the blinding pain retreated and clarity returned bit by bit. The blot still stuck around but it was much less noticeable and didn’t impair his vision too much.
Toweling off his deep blue hair, HongJoong leaned over the mirror sink and popped in his contacts, tongue sticking out in concentration as his shaking hands came close to poking his eyes out. The same thing was done to his hair, hair clips nestling into the soft locks and filling it out with even more pops of colour. Today's outfit was simple enough, a black t-shirt he had reformed to have a second layer with added padding for extra warmth, a collection of silvery bangles outdated even when he first lived, and a plaid half skirt which fell nicely over artfully ripped black jeans which, like it's t-shirt counterpart, also was reformed to be warmer. A side effect of being resurrected, HongJoong found, was that he always ran cold. Perhaps it was just a him thing but while he absolutely detested the muggy heat of summer, the heat was an undeniable godsend and he was free to wear whatever the hell he wanted without fear of being colder than his great grandma.
Fully dressed, HongJoong checked his busted laptop, held together by duct tape and sheer willpower, he grinned victoriously when he saw that he had indeed completed the base track for his newest song before conking out. All he had to do was make the guide and edit the pre-chorus before sending it off for mixing. Music was his lifeblood, coffee taking a backseat to the euphoria that was coming up with the dopest beats. Vogueing had always been his strong suit in the balls and that carried over even as he stepped away from the scene, producing scores that would be used by anyone. Captain was a name that brought in money, not a lot mind you but enough to have a comfortable savings account. Too bad it wasn't nearly enough to afford a better apartment.
Making sure that he had everything that he needed and packing his emergency medical pouch he slung his bag over one shoulder, patches and pins clacking against each other as he did so, and stepped out of his overpriced and mediocre flat, making sure to lock the door before jogging down to work. The morning rush would be starting soon and even though the lingering pain of the migraine lingered, he was confident that he could at least make it through the day. Aurora Crescent Cafe was a small indie coffee shop that never saw too much traffic but had enough regulars to keep it afloat. It had a dreamy sea side vibe to it that HongJoong adored and the pay wasn't half bad. Of course, the cafe attracted the weirdest customers and the amount of crazy stories he had amassed over the years just working at the place was enough to fill a whole library. But crazy didn't deter him in the slightest, thriving on the chaos that his job brought with it. So yeah, even if his life sucked and his heath was in the middle of planning a funeral for itself, he liked what he had. It was good enough.
Finally deciding that they should get back up, Sidney put their hands on the carpet floor, feeling a harsh joint of pain even time he move, but slowly and surely getting back up, taking a momentary rest as as they placed their hand onto his keen, before lifting them off as he swing himself back a bit returning themself forward again. with a aloof in there eyes, they begin walking towards the kitchen with a swayed in their step, almost tripping on a few occasions, as he slide his hand across the wall approaching the kitchen, entering it as they pull out a nearby chair at the table collapsing themselves on it. only for them to gently place their head, on the table wrapping his arms around their head, whispering to himself under their breath "why won't they ever stop?" Asking themselves, before raising their head and leading it on the back of the chair.
Sidney doesn't have a job, as being diagnosed with EUPD doesn't really make things easier, every job application they file being denied because of it, as they just walk down the street every day now, only for most to seen him as a strange creeper as he walk. slowly Rising their head back in position, as he bring himself to get back up pushing the chair back in when they do, with a dread in there step he heads himself to the front door, but not before sliding a knife in their pockets, from the kitchen utensil drawer while walking out. shortly arriving themself at the front door slowly turning the knob, as they let it side open before walking out form it, swinging their hand on the door as it shut closed, slowly beginning to head towards their normal street afterward.
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Layla stood in front of her window. There were bags under her eyes, no doubt, and her hair was messed up. She chuckled, walking away from the window. She moved to the bathroom, a small space that seemed like nothing. A quick glance in the mirror told Layla that she hadn't been getting good sleep. As usual.
She headed out of the bathroom and got ready for the day.
With tiny hands clasped around the glass, Margot raises it to her lips, taking a sip. Although only briefly, the water's coolness was enough to soothe the unusual dryness of her throat. Setting the cup down on the oak vanity, she peeks back up at her reflection in the mirror. At first glance, Margot didn't think she looked sick. However, with a complexion as fair as snow, it would typically take a little more than 'just a look' to diagnose any ailments. Pressing the back of her hand to her forehead, she wasn't abnormally warm, nor cold. There were also no marks, or rashes, that could offer any possible explanation for why she woke up feeling the way she did. Upon closer inspection, slight dark circles around her eyes were the only thing to note. Fortunately, light make-up would be enough to cover them.
With a couple of dabs of pressed powder, a little red eye shadow, a coat of mascara, and some time later, Margo was ready for the day ahead. Wearing a white, long-sleeved blouse, which had ruffles running down either side of the buttons, and a black collar, paired with a ruffled necktie. Her outfit was complete with a knee-length, black pinafore skirt, white tights, and polished Mary Jane shoes, with bows on the buckles. A large, black and white striped bow adorns the softly curly locks that cascade down past the small of her back. When dressed up like this, 'doll-like' was a common observation people would make about her. 'Child-like' was another. The difference between the two - the latter would have Margot's eye twitch ever so slightly out of annoyance. She was not a child. Thus, having purposely picked out a pair of platformed shoes that would bump up her height up to almost that 5'0 mark she has dreamt of being the last 5 or so years.
Taking the cup from her dresser once more, she drinks the remaining now room-temperature water and leaves her room with the empty glass. After gaining a following for her modelling, Margot had spent a lot of time inside the walls of her home, her parents worried for her safety. But in spite of rarely travelling into the city, staying home wasn't all bad. There was a library filled with all sorts of antique books, the surrounding nature was beautiful, and the Tudor-styled mansion only added to the aesthetic of her portraits. Though, she'd be lying if it didn't get lonely at times, as an only child. Perhaps she'd make a trip into the city, it had been a couple of weeks since she last had. Maybe she'd look for a new dress or two, or try out a new café.
"Maman! Papa! Good morning!" Margot smiles, joining her parents at the dining table for breakfast, toasted quartered baguettes with butter and an array of jams, and fruit juice set aside. They would eat together without any mention of her grogginess as to not trouble them. She was certain that they'd refuse her trip if they knew her health wasn't a hundred percent.
Nature was a well-deserved break from the untidiness of Layla's apartment. She had no organizing skills whatsoever, so it was usually a mess. Mostly of papers scattered all over the floor. And her desk was always a mess with markers, sharpies, and paints strewn over as if a tornado came in.
Layla had decided to put her favorite clothes combo; a nice sweater along with jeans. This time, however, she had decided to put on one of her favorite caps. It was from her sons football team; well, when she had a son. Said son was taken away after the judge had accused Layla of planning the shooting that killed her husband. That judge wasn't wrong.
After a few minutes, she had gotten her keys and left the apartment, heading downstairs and getting ready to head to the store. She always lowered her head during the walks, it made it harder to see the figures above everyone's heads and allowed her head to be at least a little more clear.
-Sun Tsu, The Art of Gaming
oh hey what's this
You could ask her the question if it had felt good, and she wouldn't be lying if she had replied with yes. It felt good to live; to take life from others. The guy, oh what was his name again? Layla didn't remember. But she had seen him in the hospital, suffering.
Layla had stolen from the man. It was tempting. Besides, there wasn't anyone else in the room. She had just gotten some money anyway; and a good knife. That was all. The man had no use for it anyway. And she didn't care to go to his house, sort through his belongings. Too much work.
Layla smiled as she absorbed herself in the sound of her boots against the sidewalk again. It was unusually calming for her.
The shadows lingering over the strangers that passed him was nothing new. It was easy to ignore them, going on about his day without a care for how much he hungered to devour the shadows. HongJoong might be a serial murderer but he had values, thank you very much. He wasn't just going to take some random Joe's shadow and call it a day. No, he had to pick his meals carefully and make the hunt worth all of the trouble. He was a picky eater but Captain wouldn't settle for anything less than the best. Humming to himself, HongJoong skipped to work uncaring of the stares that he got. He's been on the receiving end of worse just for his pastel goth style, so why not give those who wanted to stare a real reason to do so?
By the time he had made it to work, he was 5 minutes late to his shift but he didn't really care. Gingerly removing his piercings and placing them in a case, HongJoong slipped on an apron that matched cutely with his outfit, a perfect complement to his style. The obnoxious amount of badges and pins on his apron made rattling clacks whenever he moved but it popped out brightly against the mostly monochrome palate he was sporting and complemented his hair clips in their eccentric color vomit. The familiar motion of clipping on his name tag was so mundane that he paid more attention to making sure that his medicine was tucked into his jean pocket within easy reach before stepping out of the staff room. Clocking in, he tapped his co-worker out before slipping behind the till and putting on his best customer service smile.
"Hi there, welcome to Aurora Crescent Cafe! What can I get for you today?"
Layla arrived at the local store. She pulled open the doors, then slammed them when she saw a couple approaching. She walked through the store, and all the noise just blended in. It was a lot like white noise. The first couple of times you experience it, it seems like it won't go away. But Layla can easily cancel out the stores' chatter. She walked through the aisles, looking around.
She wasn't sure what she needed or why she needed it, but she just did. She probably just wanted to get out of that dump of an apartment. Talking about that dump... Her mind wandered to her current situation. When's the next time I'm gonna run away? She stopped at an aisle and absently checked the shelves. When is the next time when someone finds out I'm guilty?
She plucked something off the shelf and pretended to be interested in the ingredient list on the back. She promptly put it back and when she noticed some people staring at her, she scoffed at them. "What're you staring at?" She growled. The people went back to doing their own things. Like staring at their cell phones.
Layla had never found a reason for technology. She never had enough money to pay for a phone or computer. And begging on the streets isn't gonna do anything either.
Layla wandered the aisles again. She felt like she was missing something.
Sleep does not come to the wicked, the evil, the filth of the world. It does not come to those who think all eyes are on them, to those who hear each voice as a whisper about themselves. 'Good God, look over at that one...' However, if it does come, it is restless, terrible, and haunting. Such a night welcomed Wade Marolf, full of the haunting terror of his life, feeling invisible eyes bearing down on him, hearing sounds supernatural and horrifying to the ears. The waking world was no better, his vision distorted and confused, his nighttime wear doused with freezing sweat, his bedsheets soaked through and through, his pillow and sopping wet mess. How one person might produce that much sweat and not die in their sleep from dehydration was beyond Wade, though. Of course, this was not his main focus. His head throbbed incessantly, a dull buzzing like a swarm of enraged bees inside his skull. The backs of his eyes hurt in a most peculiar way, as if some imp were pressing against them, begging to be freed from the prison of the skull, whether by it's own means or by intervention from some outside divinity. The shower would be the first stop for Wade, then back to his room to dress and cover himself with a jacket, the collar pulled up to try and hide the raw wounds on his nape. Then it would be out to the street, trying to make the way from place to place without so many eyes finding him, staring, peeling apart the armor that hid his mind, so tarnished and corrupted. He'd killed, so long ago. And not so long ago. Of course, today would likely not be much different. The alleyways held a strange number of shades, some that wouldn't be missed. Wade's mind grimaced, some unpleasant mixture of anticipation and self-loathing welling up uncontrollably.
She exited the store and popped one in her mouth, the flavor spreading. She started walking along a chosen path, and after a while she zoned out. Layla had then been caught off guard when a building suddenly appeared in front of her. "Hmmph." She groaned, looking up at the building's sign. "Aurora Crescent.. Isn't that the cafe?" She mumbled. Well, I haven't had any breakfast. So she pushed open the doors with little force and was caught off guard by the peacefulness of the cafe.
Today was surprisingly busy, the soothing ocean bops that floated from the speakers being backed by the sounds of people going about their day. There was only HongJoong behind the counter for the first half of his shift so a line was building as he worked. Still, it wasn't too hard to juggle both the drink making and the till for now. Aside from one customer who had yelled in his face after getting straight black coffee when that was exactly what you ordered ma'am I have the receipt right here, the day proceeded surprisingly smoothly. There was a weird woman that came in clothed head to toe in purple spandex and ordered a drink with so much syrup that it was basically sludge rather than a coffee but that was more humorous than annoying. It definitely helped when his co-worker finally scrambled into the cafe an hour late to her shift and took over making the drinks leaving HongJoong to focus on taking orders with a plastic smile. The cafe was getting a little crowded and the amount of bodies surrounding him was starting to get a little stifling, shadows taunting him as he worked. Blinking away the ocular blot that he had stubbornly ignored up till now, eyesight flickering at the action as the faint pounding rattling around his skull only grew. The fanny pack clipped around his waist which he had shoved his medicine into felt almost too heavy, as if reminding him of its presence. His symptoms weren't too bad though and he figured that he could make it to the end of his shift before he would have to take anything.
Pushing the growing migraines away, HongJoong fiddled with the till and resetting it before fixing a bright grin on his face and greeting the next customer. "Welcome to Aurora Crescent Cafe! What can I get for you today?" He chirped, eyes subtly flicking up to look at the customer. He did a double take when he got a good look but luckily was fast enough to disguise it by turning around to check on his co-worker. The customer looked sketchy, clad in a ratty shirt and jean jacket and darkness swimming in her eyes as she towered over HongJoong having a good half foot of height over him. But what really had HongJoong's alarms ringing was the darkness that perched over her shoulder, fluid and amorphous yet larger than any darkness he had seen before. Still, he forced himself to look at the customer and beamed as if nothing was wrong waiting for the order to come.
Indeed, the alleyways had yielded a shade, if only a small one. It did nothing, however, to help the gentle claws slowly picking apart the spine of Wade. He wanted to vomit. He wanted to try and purge the idea from his mind. Hell, he wanted to cut himself off of the shade that he felt swelling, lapping at it's chops, slowly chuckling at the enjoyment it got from eating another of itself, if less abnormal, twisted. As if in response, however, to the shade being satisfied, the physical stomach tied to it grumbled in protest of any activity. Clutching his left arm over his midsection, Wade looked up and around, his bloodshot eyes trailing idly down the fronts of buildings, shops, apartments, pondering quietly, until at last a sanctuary of food became visible; a café, likely already packed full at this point in the morning. Wade's shuffling step grew somewhat larger, his free hand subconsciously reaching for the wallet in his pocket, opening it and fingering through the bills, counting how many there were. All fives, and around eight of them. It would be plenty, even for an overpriced coffee shop, to buy a small breakfast and warm drink.
.
HongJoong flinched at the loud bang as someone dragged a seat across the scuffed floor and sat down heavily, shoulder hitting the table. It was loud enough for his shoulders to jump slightly, a bolt of pain lancing through his head at the sound. Peering around the line hesitantly, he balked at the sight of two other people who were almost completely blocked by writhing shadows similar to the customer before him. His head swam at the sight of three, four counting the person who had slipped in a few moments before, unnaturally large swaths of darkness draped over these people's frames like a shroud of death. All at once, everything felt like too much. The ambient sunny lighting of the cafe suddenly felt too bright, pain building behind his eyes whenever he blinked, yet it was much too dark with the amount of bodies and shadows packed into the humble establishment. His hands were shaking too, just slight enough for him to hide but he didn't know if it was because of the migraines or if it was because of the influx of information assaulting him all at once
Hiding his trembling hands behind the cash register and clenching them in an attempt to stop the tremors, HongJoong gave one more passing glance towards the table and resolved to send his co-worker over to check up on them whenever he had a slight lull in customers. He had priorities and the customers in line came first.
The café was indeed very full, causing Wade to swallow a cry of despair, only clenching his jaw and shuffling to the side, waiting for the line the shrink, so that he might be able to order a muffin or cheese Danish to quell the growing concave his stomach now flaunted. Shuffling quietly to a seat before the window in the corner, Wade set his forehead down on the countertop, closing his eyes and letting his breath come shaky and nervous. His left hand acted as a barrier between outside the window and what could be seen of his face, wrapped around his skull like a protective beast. As for his right hand, it went to the back oh his neck, at first only covering the already hidden flesh, though slowly but surely clenching into a fist, then unclenching... The clenching, then turning to a vicious claw, slowly tearing at the raw scars covering the nape of his neck. The fear of feeling so many eyes on him shook him down to the very bottom of his core, causing his breath to tear more, ragged and horrified. 'They're all staring at you... They know...'