Dreams Dark and Dire

[DaevaDude]

Narration:

It occurs to Headstrong that it is possible she and the others are experiencing some sort of shared dream, with their appearances and personalities reflecting the content of nightmares or fantasies, or simply how they regard themselves. This would then say some interesting things about many of her companions... and herself. That sort of thing was more Gideon's specialty than hers, though.

How this might fit in with Roxie's assertion that this place somehow reflected some aspect of the real Sacramento, she has no idea.

[Dirge]

Dirge felt the presence of the beast in the naked woman and the other little girl. However, if felt familiar in the woman. Then she mentioned Sacramento for some reason that rung a bell as well. She could not quite place why it was so familiar and so wrong at the same time. She looked around at the others present and none of them nor their beasts were familiar to her just like the little girl. What was going on and where was everyone from Frisco?

The monstrous blood soaked little girl looks up to the naked woman, "You feel familiar for some reason miss. Who are you?"

[Bo Albion]

Mariel opens her eyes, then closes them. Why is it so dark? She tries to step carefully in the darkness, and feels...awkward. WTF? Running her hands down her body, she notices that her breasts ache- and they seem...bigger? Odd. Continuing her exploration, she discovers that she is hugely pregnant. She is transported in memory to her 16th year as a human. That last horrible year before her embrace, when she lived in the Convent.

Lord, have mercy! Christ, have mercy!

Mariel begins to cry.

[Yawgmoth]

Dr. Lazarus notices a man lurking in the shadows... tall, muscular, with long, golden hair, a thick golden beard, icy blue eyes. He looks like a Viking king. He is shirtless and has bloody runes carved into his chest, abdomen and shoulders. Lazarus notices that the man's hands and arms are horribly scarred, as if the skin and flesh had been shredded and stitched back together. He also notices the man is carrying an old-style folding razor, the blade streaked with blood.

As the man notices Lazarus, his eyes shift color, from ice blue to blood red.

This stranger has Blood Potency 3

The man lurking in the shadows did not strike fear into the unbeating heart of Ith Lazarus. Just moments before he faced true fear in form of a child, and a blood-drenched madman was hardly a blip on the doctor's radar. The man's eyes were unsettling, and the shift of color was enough to prompt a second look.

His beast shares the strength of my own.

Lazarus approached the bloody kindred, and in doing so the overcoat he wore seemed to snake and flow against the ground almost as if it had a life of its own. The Warden stood tall looking at the figure, his mask occasionally fading away to reveal the true Nosferatu beneath.

"I am Mister Warden Ith Lazarus of the First Estate. Who are you?" He spoke with the authority that he used over the mad of Amber Hill for decades, his raspy voice seeming to echo in this dread-world.

[Lesingnon]

"If we are here for a specific reason then it is likely that those who appeared in this dreamscape, if indeed you are correct in your assumption as to what this is, were not chosen at random. I am new to this Domain and have not met any of you, but perhaps you share some connection that could help explain things?"

[Joseph Hartman]

Joseph wakes to find himself standing in the middle of the street. Seemingly bathed in blood. He looks down at the dress suit he is wearing. It is ripped and torn apart. ~How fitting..~ Though the red on his suit seems to be more red than else where. He dabs at it with his finger. It is blood though not his.... He looks around not caring at all that what was a good suit is now ripped and torn and covered in blood.

[Premsyl]

A man appears down the street, appearing out of the shadows. He is a very tall man with a huge, muscular frame. His head is bare and bald, and his black skin is covered in a sheen of sweat. His big calloused hands flexing in the night. He wears simple brown cloth pants and a burlap shirt - the back of which is torn and shredded, stained with blood and sticking to bleeding lash wounds on the man's back.

The man approaches the street corner where the Kindred gather, and as they look at him most realize they do not recognize the tall black man, dressed like an American slave from the old South.

Then the man speaks with the deep smooth voice of Arnold Culler, his voice tinged with confusion but no fear. Not yet, at least. "What is happening here?" He looks around to Ishani, sees Konstantin, and then... "O-Yama? Is that you?"

[O-Yama]

"Reeve Culler! It does me good to see your face... or hear your voice rather. Yes, it is me, O-Yama. Very complicated story, but you remember the room I told you of? I believe this may be a daymare similar to that situation."

O-Yama says upon seeing the Reeve. He didn't recognise the mans features much, but he knew the voice of his friend.

[Premsyl]

Arnold furrows his brow, not understanding the meaning of O-Yama's words. "My face?" He looks down at himself, and seems to realize for the first time that, wherever they are, he does not bear the Haunt's Curse.

He cringes, gritting his teeth against crying out, for it is at that moment that he feels the whip-marks on his back flare up in pain, as if the scourge was striking his skin in that very moment - reminding him of the the trials and ordeals he had endured before his embrace. The very things that had made him determined to become one of the unconquerable. To never again be held against his will.

He shakes his head, diverting his attention from the pain on his back as he had taught himself to do then. His voice is somewhat stressed, but still even "O-Yama. Where have you been? It is good to see that you live."

[Thistle]

Michael heard crying besides his own. He saw a young woman with red hair. She was very beautiful.
The rod seemed to burn his very mind with a fearful chill. He winced and held his wrist, trying to withstand the cold the iron sent through his body. It felt like it was killing him.
The cold subsided after a few seconds back to the way it had been before. However, he knew, somehow, the metal Beast he held in his hand was simply waiting. Lurking for a chance to try and kill him again.
He went over to the young woman, still holding his wrist instinctively and said shakily. "Excuse me, are you alright?"