Dream A Little Dream [Nae]

[Ryan Cardwell]

Silence. It filled the night as surely as the shadows that fell with the passing of the sun. Everywhere it lay; ever present, as inescapable as death. And it was in this omnipotent lack of sound that death seemed to be closest to the world of mortal men. It seemed to wait around every corner, in every shadowed alcove, in every darkened doorway; a dark angel that sought to spirit away the souls of all who had reached their time. None could run from it, and once in its grasp none could ever be free.

Yet, in those empty hours of deepest stillness just before the sun broke free of its nightly confines, when even the nocturnal beasts slumbered; it truly seemed as if those who had long since passed from this world could, in some small measure, walk again the grounds they had known in life. Their presence was only hinted at in fleeting glimpses through the corners of sleep fogged eyes, in whispers heard by minds that were barely awake. In the morning none would recall that they'd been there at all. But now, in the night, it was their hour.

However it was not through this playground of spirits that one trudged. He had no desire to wander the halls of a place that he could no longer interact with, was not sure he'd even be able to if he had wanted. This one was content to merely traverse the planes if the afterlife, that endless expanse of land that quite literally stretched on forever. If one did not know how to move about within its boundless confines then they were doomed to be lost for all of time. Since his arrival he had learned that many had fallen to such a fate, and as such had taken special care to make sure that he knew what he was about before venturing forth.

His journey this night was not through the realm of the dead however, now was it an attempt to traverse upon the realm of those who were still filled with the burning spark of life. It was a foray into a realm forbidden to all but those resting in deep sleep, and even those few were never permitted to travel beyond the extent of their own personal space. Yet he was going to attempt to enter this most taboo of realms, to make it safely inside and out again without losing what was left of his soul in the process.

He did not know what it was that made him think he could accomplish such a feat in the first place; all he knew was that something did. It was as though he could see the knowledge there before him, close enough to ouch and yet just out of reach. The knowledge was accomplished by a feeling, a feeling of insistence. Someone wanted him to undertake this task, the who and why just another question without an answer.

So it was that he found himself traveling through the realm of death, not yet knowing why. The distance he traveled was both vast and small. Its length was immeasurable by the eye, but there was something he could sense that told him how far he'd come. When he stood before the portal he sought, he was a long time entering. Time was no issue for him, and so he made sure that he was thoroughly prepared. It took quite a while, but that time was virtually nonexistant. In the end he stepped forward through the portal, and into her dreams.

[Naelona Ezel]

For many dreams are a time of escape. An unknown plane to escape into, lose time, completely impossible feats and wake up feeling rested, happy, and wondering with a foggy brain what the odd things were about. But these days for one Ezel, it was becoming that the only 'restful' night was a dreamless, if not sleepless one. It didn't seem to matter what trick she tried to use, but the moment she closed her eyes the images would begin. They were gray, bleak, and often within moments of entering one, Naelona already knew how it would end. With her death.

Tonight was no different than other nights. Sometimes having Anolean or Kristopher nearby helped, but of late neither seemed to be having any effect. Mar was thoroughly banned from her room while she slept, his chattering and occasional screeches always made it into her dreams in the most unpleasant of ways. That night Naelona's room was silent. Empty. Dark. The one bay window remained slightly open, and bright starlight seeped into the cooled room. The silver curtains moved slightly with the breezes. A bit late in the year for such behavior? Perhaps, but a cold room made it easier to wake.

Some distant ticking betrayed the presence of a clock, though it was well out of sight for the time being. Instead a silver pocket watch rested upon a chair by her bed, solitary, cold, still and frozen as the day it'd been stolen. Inches away was Naelona' pale hand, hanging limply over the edge of the bed, following an arm that vanished into the thick blankets. Only a mop of black and white hair showing at where the blankets and pillows met.

Inside it wasn't a Labyrinth the woman saw in her sleep, nor the labs, or even the Trap. It was the orchard. The trees were thriving. Their strong arms reaching for the bleak sky, red fruit hanging heavily from their stems dripping liquid to the ground.. but it was midday and there was no dew. Strips of flesh, meat, organs and other things also hung upon the branches, seeming to soak into the reddish wood. There was no tell if it was human, or boogie. But the air often spoke it was both. Spirals of thorns seeped from the earth to ensnare her slippered feet, but by then Naelona had already left. She had seen this scene before.

Walking back for the Palace, it would be just as bleak and empty. No boogies. No slaves. Not even familiars. She could feel that even Mar was gone. Casting a gray-eyed glance across the grounds, even the Labyrinth had taken quite the beating. Large portions of wall were torn apart. Briefly she wondered if even the Groundskeeper had survived, but even he was probably long gone after this aftermath. Sighing Naelona patted her pocket for a pipe that wasn't there. So was the price of running about in a nightgown.

Perhaps this time she would make it, this time she could survive. Pausing by the door outside the Palace, she picked up a shovel, and went in heading first for the library and the first inevitable obstacle that would lurk there. All she had was until that afternoon when the rest would arrive, than nightfall until the end. If she could survive that long, this time..

[Ryan Cardwell]

Stepping through the portal, the spirit of the once boogie was engulfed in a total void of absolute nothingness. There was no light, no sound, no scent, no touch. If not for his will constantly forcing him to remind himself of who and what he was, he was confident that he would have dissipated entirely; just another bit of nothing. It was literally impossible to know how long it lasted, or even if it lasted any time at all. But in the end he felt a rending sensation, as though every molecule of his body was being ripped in a different direction at once. The darkness surged once, seeking to prevent his escape, to trap him there forever and consume him; then it simply disappeared.

He emerged into a hallway that was at once completely familiar and totally foreign. His exact location he knew well, he was in a corridor just a short way away from the library, which was situated somewhere off to his left. But something was wrong. This was a well traveled pathway through the palace, rarely ever being empty except for the very latest of nighttime hours. Yet as he stood in it now, it was completely deserted; silence laying over it as heavily as the thick coat of dust he could see coating every surface.

Somewhat disturbed, the unwelcome visitor closed his eyes, reaching out through the palace with his senses. Wherever he could sense, there was no life. It seemed that the entire palace was deserted; and indeed the scent of death and decay was now assailing his nostrils. His brows creased as a frown crossed his face. Surely this much time has not passed...? Tristan caught himself, realizing what he was doing. He was believing himself to be in the material world once more, when in fact that realm was an immeasurable distance away. Instead he was in the realm of dreams, one not governed by time or space, where anything could be and was possible.

Closing his eyes once more he tried again, this time reaching out with senses that reached beyond the material boundaries that he'd previously believed had been placed upon him. Invisible feelers stretched out through the palace, this time encountering beings that were hidden far too well for his normal sensory perception to detect. They filled the palace and the grounds without, shadows that were invisible in when they were in plain sight. All were dark beasts that were not meant to be anywhere other than the labyrinth that had been constructed to contained them. There were many of them, any single one a match for a normal being. The closest was in the library....

Immediately turning to his left he began walking; directly through the wall in front of him. Normally this would have been impossible, even in a dream. But being both a spirit and an intruder to the dream, he was not bound by the laws that were set in place for it. It took him only moments to reach his intended destination, and his head immediately turned toward where the beast lay. He could not see it with his eyes, but the extra senses afforded to him allowed him to determine its location almost instantly.

The creature was crouched in the shadow of a pair of fallen book cases, red eyes gleaming hungrily through the shadows as it awaited its prey to step through the floor, knowing for certain that it would be forced to. Though the thing was many times deadlier than anything that had roamed free upon Wonderland in his time, the departed boogie did not hesitate. Instead he moved forward with a careless stride, walking through the bookcase and stopping directly behind the thing. Without the slightest hint of pit or mercy his hands wrapped around its head; the eyes widening in surprise a split second before its neck was snapped and the head was turned backwards. He stared into the hate filled orbs as they slowly dimmed. When they did he pulled it further into the shadows, moving back and taking up its vigil. Crouched and waiting. Just waiting....

[Naelona Ezel]

Naelona was well enough familiar with this place, this setting, this nightmare. She recalled well where the beasts lie, what creatures would emerge at what time, and what actions would cause it all to come down on her head all the quicker. She'd died often enough, enough nights to recall them. The downside was - if she died early in this dream - it was no guarantee she would get to slip into another. Some nightmares earned their feared marks by repeating, even within the same night in succession. So were the fates of creatures such as herself, perhaps. Or maybe just herself.

Reaffirming her grasp upon the shovel handle Naelona traced silent steps down the warped and stained halls. Stale air and smell of mold assaulted the senses. Water, blood, dirt, weather, time.. all had left their mark upon these warped boards and discolored walls. Mindfully sidestepping certain parts, there were even portions of floor that were solidly rotten and would give away with the slightest of pressure. She'd fallen to her death several times before in this place, and to even worse things that lurked within the foundation of this palace. Even into the Trap itself a time or two, despite the two buildings actually residing nowhere near each other.

Nearing a door Nae paused, recalling what was within. A dark creature, one that had to be killed early, and surely. If the first wasn't accomplished it would kill her, and if it escaped.. well.. there wouldn't be time enough to escape the returning hoard it would bring. Inside was part of the library, devoid of even the man-eating books. Even those strange items weren't exempt from the strange creatures, creatures that sucked the life from those as well.

Suddenly darting inside, a pillar of shadow shot out from the wall overhead, slamming into a large bookcase. The bookcase started to shudder and suddenly toppled over in a rain of decaying books and splintering wood, slamming down upon the evil creature. Nae had grabbed a shelf as it'd gone over, scampering practicedly along the shelves as it fell, bending the knees as it'd impacted the floor. It would teeter a little upon the wounded body of that foul beast, but she still brought up the shovel ready to slam it into the beast's neck while it was still trapped. It would be the first of many she'd have to be mindful of so she did not die. At least not yet.

[Ryan Cardwell]

Crouched in the shadows of the bookcases, he once again closed his eyes; allowing ethereal tendrils of senses reach out through the palace and the grounds beyond. Everywhere they reached, there was no sign of life beyond the gruesome beasts that hunched down, awaiting the opportunity to slaughter their prey once more. His brow furrowed at the realization that everyone and everything in all of Wonderland aside from he and the proper inhabitant of this particular dream must have been slaughtered long ago. Despite his knowledge that none of it was truth, it was still deeply disturbing. This could not be allowed to affect he search however, and so he kept on creeping through every nook and cranny from the towers to the far side of the now destroyed Labyrinth. Yet despite his concentration on what lay without, he was no less aware of the area immediately surrounding his body than if he was nothing nothing further at all.

Regardless, he was aware of the emerging shadows only a split second before they slammed into the huge case and brought the entire thing rushing down atop him. There was no time to move, by the time he realized that he was in jeopardy it was already halfway toward the floor, the books on it falling faster still. Any attempt to flee would result in at leas half of his body being crushed beneath its massive weight, and needless to say that was not something that was very desirable in such a perilous abode.

If not for the very nature of his being in the current realm, there was the possibility that he would have been done for then. Most likely he would not have been 'killed' as such, seeing as he was already long deceased at this point, but in all likelihood he would have been ejected from the dream, perhaps permanently. As it was though, thanks in both to him being a spirit and a trespasser in this play, he was able to remain where he was unharmed. He had the unique ability to pick and choose what could and could not be affected to him or by him. Due to this the deadly wave of wood and paper simply went through him, leaving proximately half his torso seemingly hovering over the fallen case.

He waited in silence a moment before rising to his feet, slowly so as to not startle the boogie woman. He knew that any sudden motions would certainly end with his head being severed bludgeoned in. So instead of speaking to her outright he merely brushed himself of the dust that was still settling from the sudden commotion. His gaze traveled over her, brow instantly raising as he caught sight of the shovel in her hand. Things must really be changing....

Soon enough however, he spoke; the lowness of his voice certainly in contrast to the fact that he towered over the small woman. Rejuvenation certainly had not diminished his intimidating height, if anything he was perhaps a few inches taller than he had been in his older form. "Your manners are slipping, Naelona, if this is how you greet an old friend after so long..."