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misrecalled_tdms[((OOC note: This fourth wall is open to any character who would be game legal. If a character who posted here reserves or apps in September, these threads can be considered game canon as long as all involved agree. If a character doesn't app, for those in game already... wow that was a weird dream. Wait, what did you dream about again?))]
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For Jordan, still comatose after the magical mishap that had resulted in the first Misrecalled being summoned, it began with a dream. A dream so strong, that it had her stirring fitfully even in her current state; and eventually caused her to release an uncontrolled burst of magic.
For everyone else, unaware of what was coming, it began with falling asleep. Whether or not someone was tired before hand, whether they even could sleep, they simply fell asleep - or a reasonable facsimile - wherever they happened to be. Maybe they remembered falling asleep, maybe they didn't. But either way they suddenly found themselves in... a very strange place.
First all there was that they could see was a vast featureless plain in shining gold and silken draperies. But that was only a glimpse, for just by existing in this space, each dreamer warps it. Changes it. Not all at once, but bits, constantly changing between them and whomever they encounter. Each person brings with them bits of three places... where they had been last, a familiar place from memory, and whatever place they call home. But this is constantly changing and shifting, more so the more dreamers are present in any space. Before long, Bits of different landscapes, different environments, even different weather conditions will cover the landscape like some crazy patchwork quilt. Here a bit of a sunny, idyllic garden, there a section of shadowy, graffiti covered slum. To one side, a chunk of charming cobblestone streets under sunset tinged skies, to the other, a forest of towering trees, some of which seem to be moving. And glimpsed through the gaps between some of the odd terrain sections, some remainder of the poorly defined golden space, hung with colorful draperies could still be seen.
And the ground itself was not immune to the changes. While the ground on which they stood might seem stable enough, if someone walked more than a few paces in any direction, that could change. Solid ground could become shifting sand. Or water. Or a wall might suddenly appear to block their path. Doors might lead to places they definitely shouldn't or open to the edge of a sheer cliff. And if the complete lack of logic to the landscape wasn't enough of an indication that this was some sort of dream, then the unreadable signs would clinch it. Because any signs - or indeed, anything with writing on it that they didn't have on their person when they arrived - was covered with nothing but unreadable gibberish.
And it got even more surreal when a dreamer spotted anyone else in the dreamspace, or even looked at their own reflection - for each person appears in the dream in whatever way they see themselves. So someone with low self confidence might be short, someone with a huge ego might tower. If someone sees themselves as a horrible criminal who needs to repent, they might be in prison togs. If the change is dramatic enough people who know each other well might still fail to recognize each other within the dreaming.
Now normally such a bizarre dream might have been put down to stress, a meal that disagreed with them, or maybe indulging in some sort of illicit substance, but this clearly was no ordinary dream, if for no other reason than that in this dream, they weren't alone. The other people they encounter are not just figments of their imagination, and they too change the shared dream space.
Those already either on the Isle or in the kingdom of Auradon proper would find themselves all thrown together in the bizarre dreamworld. And that would have been strange enough. But more than the current populations of Auradon and the Isle could be found in this place. Maybe the faces where familiar. Maybe they weren't. But they definitely hadn't turned up in the physical world that was home to Ben and Mal. Yet anyway.
Given the extremely variable geography, exploring the area might be dangerous. At least as dangerous as anything in a dream could be. But investigating might help them find a way back to the physical world faster, for those who realize they are dreaming. Or they could just stand around and talk or complain about the latest bit of magical weirdness to happen to them and hope they woke up soon. Or they could go with it and enjoy the weird. It was their dream, after all. They could pretty much do what they liked. Or at least try to. Either way, they seemed stuck there for the present, for better or worse.
*****************************************************
For Jordan, still comatose after the magical mishap that had resulted in the first Misrecalled being summoned, it began with a dream. A dream so strong, that it had her stirring fitfully even in her current state; and eventually caused her to release an uncontrolled burst of magic.
For everyone else, unaware of what was coming, it began with falling asleep. Whether or not someone was tired before hand, whether they even could sleep, they simply fell asleep - or a reasonable facsimile - wherever they happened to be. Maybe they remembered falling asleep, maybe they didn't. But either way they suddenly found themselves in... a very strange place.
First all there was that they could see was a vast featureless plain in shining gold and silken draperies. But that was only a glimpse, for just by existing in this space, each dreamer warps it. Changes it. Not all at once, but bits, constantly changing between them and whomever they encounter. Each person brings with them bits of three places... where they had been last, a familiar place from memory, and whatever place they call home. But this is constantly changing and shifting, more so the more dreamers are present in any space. Before long, Bits of different landscapes, different environments, even different weather conditions will cover the landscape like some crazy patchwork quilt. Here a bit of a sunny, idyllic garden, there a section of shadowy, graffiti covered slum. To one side, a chunk of charming cobblestone streets under sunset tinged skies, to the other, a forest of towering trees, some of which seem to be moving. And glimpsed through the gaps between some of the odd terrain sections, some remainder of the poorly defined golden space, hung with colorful draperies could still be seen.
And the ground itself was not immune to the changes. While the ground on which they stood might seem stable enough, if someone walked more than a few paces in any direction, that could change. Solid ground could become shifting sand. Or water. Or a wall might suddenly appear to block their path. Doors might lead to places they definitely shouldn't or open to the edge of a sheer cliff. And if the complete lack of logic to the landscape wasn't enough of an indication that this was some sort of dream, then the unreadable signs would clinch it. Because any signs - or indeed, anything with writing on it that they didn't have on their person when they arrived - was covered with nothing but unreadable gibberish.
And it got even more surreal when a dreamer spotted anyone else in the dreamspace, or even looked at their own reflection - for each person appears in the dream in whatever way they see themselves. So someone with low self confidence might be short, someone with a huge ego might tower. If someone sees themselves as a horrible criminal who needs to repent, they might be in prison togs. If the change is dramatic enough people who know each other well might still fail to recognize each other within the dreaming.
Now normally such a bizarre dream might have been put down to stress, a meal that disagreed with them, or maybe indulging in some sort of illicit substance, but this clearly was no ordinary dream, if for no other reason than that in this dream, they weren't alone. The other people they encounter are not just figments of their imagination, and they too change the shared dream space.
Those already either on the Isle or in the kingdom of Auradon proper would find themselves all thrown together in the bizarre dreamworld. And that would have been strange enough. But more than the current populations of Auradon and the Isle could be found in this place. Maybe the faces where familiar. Maybe they weren't. But they definitely hadn't turned up in the physical world that was home to Ben and Mal. Yet anyway.
Given the extremely variable geography, exploring the area might be dangerous. At least as dangerous as anything in a dream could be. But investigating might help them find a way back to the physical world faster, for those who realize they are dreaming. Or they could just stand around and talk or complain about the latest bit of magical weirdness to happen to them and hope they woke up soon. Or they could go with it and enjoy the weird. It was their dream, after all. They could pretty much do what they liked. Or at least try to. Either way, they seemed stuck there for the present, for better or worse.
no subject
Date: 7 Sep 2023 05:33 (UTC)Really the Organization coat was one of the first things he saw that was at all familiar. What was above it... less so. But given the Keybade and ice cream in the partly translucent figure's hands, he took a guess at who it might be. "Xion?", he said. "Is that you?"
no subject
Date: 7 Sep 2023 05:41 (UTC)no subject
Date: 7 Sep 2023 05:49 (UTC)no subject
Date: 7 Sep 2023 06:07 (UTC)"Y...you... see... me like that now?" she whispered. She didn't need a skin tone for him to know the paled, it was in her thin voice.
no subject
Date: 7 Sep 2023 06:36 (UTC)"But however it's happening, and however this place makes either of us look, it's really great to see you again, Xion." He knelt down and pulled her smaller- now more than usual- form into a hug. "...Man, I've missed you."
no subject
Date: 7 Sep 2023 06:44 (UTC)"Axel..." she whispered, starting to cry. Not that he could have seen that, even if he wasn't hugging her. But no way he could miss it anyway.
no subject
Date: 7 Sep 2023 07:02 (UTC)“What’s even more striking to me is that you’re practically well known in my world for being one of the most notable figures in the magical community in the United Kingdom.”
no subject
Date: 8 Sep 2023 02:26 (UTC)no subject
Date: 8 Sep 2023 09:02 (UTC)no subject
Date: 8 Sep 2023 09:08 (UTC)“Oh hi there. It looks like I’m also stuck in here as well, I didn’t mean to step in here by accident…” he tries to explain himself to the red haired man.
no subject
Date: 8 Sep 2023 11:49 (UTC)Aqua? Where is this....?
no subject
Date: 8 Sep 2023 17:08 (UTC)"Last I knew I was in a hubworld that was split into parts. The part I was in is called Auradon. And given that world, this might even be part of it. We were trying to reach another area of the same world called the Isle." Now she stopped and let him go and studied him, with concern on her face. "Is... Is that where you were, Ven? The Isle?"
no subject
Date: 8 Sep 2023 23:39 (UTC)Skisan | Star Trek OC | OTA
Date: 9 Sep 2023 01:01 (UTC)Skisan's image of himself was exactly as he was. Maintaining that image was a necessity, particularly for a race that could link minds, as someone else could warp that image with intent or without, if one was uncertain. He stood 6' tall, which while not abnormal for a Vulcan, came out somewhat taller than average compared to humans. If one knew much about Vulcans, some aspects of his appearance might come as a surprise. Rather than the traditional straight haircut, thick curls framed his face and he had a level of scruff which most Vulcans would never have permitted. Outside of that he had deep blue eyes and while he did not possess the most pale of skin-tones, it was certainly light enough that the green undertones were readily visible. He wore simple robes with embroidery along multiple borders.
While he had little beyond both of them being vulcanoids physically in common with his ward, those who knew Æn'kae might pick up a sense of familiarity, subtle, but there. Just little pieces of mannerisms. And it would get even more pronounced when he spoke as there were similarities in tone and accent both.
He might have tried to wake if he had not been curious in regards to this shared mental state, and perhaps upon failing he might have had some cause for concern, but as it was that had not yet come up. He also did not try to reshape the world around him, but rather. Observed. What he contributed and what he did not at all recognize both. He wished to discover what had caused this shared state that was not a mind-meld, and, perhaps, to learn of others who had been brought in. He raised an eyebrow as he stepped forward and the ground shifted in the process to something entirely unknown. "Curious," he murmured.
no subject
Date: 9 Sep 2023 04:20 (UTC)no subject
Date: 9 Sep 2023 04:54 (UTC)no subject
Date: 9 Sep 2023 08:55 (UTC)no subject
Date: 9 Sep 2023 08:56 (UTC)[He hadn't necessarily expected that the other would react that much to having found him. He lets her hug him, returning it, if a little taken aback by her strong response to finding him again. He does listen, picking up on what she says. The way she looks at him says that this Isle is probably bad news?]
Auradon? What Isle? A hub world?
no subject
Date: 9 Sep 2023 09:08 (UTC)no subject
Date: 9 Sep 2023 09:11 (UTC)Morgana McCawber | Fan-Designed DT17 | OTA
Date: 9 Sep 2023 14:44 (UTC)The first location looks like a haunted house - the kind you’d see in lame old black and white films, or a cheap theme park’s attempt to be scary. It’s got all the stereotypes down – windows that are either broken or with the shutters on a tilt, glaring gargoyles sitting atop the roof, a chilly wind that pushes the creaky door open, and so on and so forth. But to Morgana, this is the home where she grew up. Judging from her annoyed expression, it’s also the last place she wants to be, as she does her best not to look at it.
The second location is much more modern - city streets at night. Tall buildings that reach for the sky with only a few lit windows, bustling cars that zoom past narrow streets, and perhaps a few police sirens off in the distance. This is Saint Canard, home of heroes and villains alike, and Morgana’s current hunting ground for her crime spree. This might be easier to work with, she’s possibly musing to herself, as it’s this spot that makes her more relaxed.
But it’s the third location where she wants to stay, even if the weather changes and the ground becomes unstable. She’d rather be nowhere else than on a concert stage, the spotlights beaming right on center stage, electric instruments plugged in and ready to play, and curtains parted for the star of the show. If you find her there, you’re going to have an extremely difficult time getting her away.
But no matter where she’s found, she has an itch to play the guitar slung over her back. It’d really help ease her worries… but unfortunately, the worries will only continue to grow. Her wrists and ankles are chained up, like one would see on a dangerous criminal… which she technically is. No matter how hard she tugs, she can’t free herself, and it seems like her magic is being stifled. After several long moments of desperate tugging and pulling, she lets out a huff, finally speaking out loud.
“Cute. Very cute.” She mutters, though she supposes when it comes to torture from a demon, this is safer than what she expected. “The sooner Eek, Squeak and Archie can wake me up, the better… this is getting old really fast.” Well, she couldn’t expect anything to change just by standing still, so it was time to walk.
If there was any positive aspects about this entire scenario, she thought, maybe it’d inspire her to write a new song.
no subject
Date: 9 Sep 2023 19:47 (UTC)Caleb Widowgast | Critical Role | OTA
Date: 9 Sep 2023 21:05 (UTC)His auburn hair hung in his face and his clothes were little but rags. This is a familiar dream for the wizard to have, so at the moment he is sitting in the small cell almost curled in on himself. He has no idea that someone might be in here with him. He's humming an odd little tune that sounds German, but isn't.
It isn't clear if Caleb is really there or not, he is just a ragged looking man, humming a sad little tune weighted down by chains and self doubt. Do you approach or leave him be?
Æn'kae | Star Trek OC | OTA
Date: 10 Sep 2023 00:07 (UTC)He swallowed hard and turned away from the wall. The epohhir seemed to be exploring the trees but also he couldn't pick up any emotions or thought forms from the the little antennae'd rodents. Which was enough to cause concern. Either his ability had been muted again. Or they weren't really there. And he wasn't sure which. After chewing his lip he turned away, spotting the bar from the dining area beneath a large tree, violet sky visible where it rose up past the ceiling.
His appearance wasn't much changed. He might have been just a little shorter (assuming he wasn't slouching for once), he was certainly younger, but what would have taken him most aback if he were to see himself was the lack of ridges on his forehead. Every bit of scarring remained. The greatest divergence was the outfit he wore. It was a strange mix, certainly nothing anyone here had ever seen him wear. A Tal Shiar uniform all silver and black with much akin to armor and a reptilian bird of prey on the a harness over his chest. In contrast, draped over his shoulders was a sleeveless Vuhlkansu overrobe with embroidered text in a flowing script that looked more like art than words, especially to those unfamiliar with Vuhlkansu writing. While the uniform of Rihan origin held menace that went beyond appearance and to a gut feeling, the overrobe countered with a sense of calm rationality.
He turned at the sound of the door opening, not the one from in the ship, but the actual ballroom door. "Please tell me you're seeing this too?" He asked, rubbing at the back of his neck.
no subject
Date: 10 Sep 2023 05:57 (UTC)