Somniac's forum posts

#1 Posted by Somniac (153 posts) - - Show Bio

It started as it always did with the absolute panic of flight from an unknown assailant. Never before seen, but you can picture that dripping maw, those horrendous claws scratching the floor easily enough. You know it will catch you. You almost wish it would so you could get this over with…the fear is worse then anything, anything else you've ever experienced. You keep running through those familiar halls-turned strange labyrinth, the light slowly fading out. Or maybe the lightbulbs burst in a blaze of light, and everything's dark except for that inner eye which still sees ahead, and almost sees behind. And now you try to call out to the one person who could save you…your mother, your father, your older sibling, that one teacher who seemed godlike to your young self. And you don't fail…not exactly. But all that will emerge from your lips is a choked whisper, a parody of your voice. You try to scream louder, but an invisible fist closes around your throat, and you CAN'T, simply CAN'T no matter how hard you try. Now there's a light up ahead, a sickly yellow, like that seen between the leaves of trees in the dusk just before a thunderstorm. There lurks the wind, waiting to pull you up with a thousand fingers and cast you into the night. But even that phantasmagoric torture is better than what lurks behind. You know that you will rise forever into the sky…it cannot be helped. You leave the corridor, and immediately the fingers of some invisible flyer [one of H.P Lovecraft's pitch-black Night-Gaunts perhaps] and you begin to rise into the air. Slowly, so slowly, which is part of the horror…there is nothing you can grab. Trees circle around you like hungry spectators, but you cannot reach out and take a limb. You resign yourself to your fate.

And then a hand grabs your wrist. You look down, expecting to see a skeletal talon, maggots squirming onto your bare flesh. But instead…a child's hand, wrist still puffed with baby-fat. You look up and into her face [you just know it's going to be the Grudge…or some eyeless, faceless thing] and see an honest desire to help you…to comfort you and save you from this horrorscape of a world. She is just a child, but she's something more…you don't know quite what….but she's anchoring you here, keeping the wind away, and you think the BEAST chasing you has retreated. You are safe.

And then your arm drops off at the shoulder, leaving the bewildered child with a limb that writhes hideously like a lizard's severed tail. The winds swoop in and you are borne upward and upward, towards the void of space and….

Somniac awoke with a start, a muffled cry escaping his lips. He was drenched in what he thought was a cold sweat, but was actually congealing blood. Shuddering, he disentangled himself from the crimson clotted sheets and walked over to the coffeemaker that perpetually burbled on the counter. A thick sludge of old grounds coated the bottom, but Somniac didn't really care. He poured himself a cup and downed it in a swallow…a motion that would make a hardened whiskey-drinker proud. Feeling slightly revived (though he knew that was deceiving…many a time he had found himself asleep half on the counter at a moment just like this). He pondered his dream. Most of it was familiar. But the child? That was unique. He could only visit the world of nightmare, and that little angel had no place there. Frowning, he tried to ponder further, but the details of the dream had already begun to slip through his fingers like sand.

The next while was a blank. This was not unusual. The somnambulant Somniac often found himself in situations he had no recollection of. He was in the center of a pentacle. Around him at the points were five other individuals. He noted deep circles under their eyes….dreamers all. Or insomniacs, who were often plagued with the worst dreams of all: the waking nightmare known as life. Even as he thought this his head dropped onto his chest and he pulled them all deep into the realm of Nightmare...

#2 Posted by Somniac (153 posts) - - Show Bio

Aaaand… 
Posted!

#3 Posted by Somniac (153 posts) - - Show Bio

Of course Somniac did not receive the call. He had no connections whatsoever to the I.C.E Dragons. But he did get its reverberations. The dreamworld rippled as if a stone had been thrown into its center, and images (memories, fantasies, they were interchangeable) were surfacing. Ashton Miles, the human host known as Somniac, payed these dreams no mind…he had had far stranger. The Dreams, imagery and symbols made flesh, took interest…but they knew next to nothing, only that scales were unbalanced somewhere, and old friends were going to come into play soon…nothing more concrete than something that sounded like a poor fortune given by a supposedly mystical quack.  
 
But Questions were soon going to be answered, and the cards read: Death, the Fool, the Sleeper, the Fallen God. The unreadable Tarot of the inner mind. Darkchild kicked things into motion. He called them, and so they assembled. Somniac somnambulantly stumbled into the meeting room, promptly collapsing with his head on the table. The waking world no longer held him in its sway, clung to him by the merest thread. Much more and Somniac would be gone…swept into the turmoil of the world embedded in the unconscious. 
 
Darkchild's Story
 
Once upon a time, there was a group of mighty heroes. They ruled justly, had many adventures. But their goals differed, and the team went on their separate ways. Their stories are told elsewhere, and would fill many a volume, too much for this simple fable to relate. Then, a shot rang out….no, no, no, that wasn't it. There was an egg. Yes, an egg. Not just any egg. You couldn't scramble it, or cook it sunny side up. This was a special egg. A dragon egg. And it was going to hatch. But the bad people, the ones without any motivation, the ones who merely wanted to maintain the status quo, those formerly known as heroes…they were going to try to get the egg. Sir Darkchild wasn't going to let that happen. He was going to get to the egg first, and his new group would help him get it. So they were going to go to the Arctic, and there they would face many tests. Not all of them would necessarily make it. Once the quests had been completed (there was no fairy godmother to help…this was one of the stories that relied on wit, and trickery), they would be Kings, and rule the land as they saw fit.  The noble dragon would not be slain by the nasty knight, oh no, not at all.
 
That was the gist anyway. Darkchild's actual words blurred a little, but the meaning came through loud and clear. The Dreams were at full alert now, the more violent ones restlessly pacing in the Dreamlands. They're motivations were unclear…anything a Dream ever did was only a reflection of what they meant to. Everything was distorted…like looking at a reflection through a warped mirror. The Dreams wanted the Dragon, that was all that was clear. 
  
Lady Death was now speaking. " Those who need a ride. Take these Wyverns. They are quite fast and have the ability to fly. Great modes of transport" Ashton's eyes snapped open, glowing a strange green. "No need. I can fly." And even as he spoke, translucent insect wings were unfolding from his back. His eyes were compound, reflecting the room in myriad. This was Dragonfly, the embodiment of all dreams of flight. Wings buzzing, Somniac took to the skies. 

#4 Posted by Somniac (153 posts) - - Show Bio

Okay, posted! 
Sorry it took me so long to get around to it.

#5 Posted by Somniac (153 posts) - - Show Bio

He had missed it. Slept through the whole thing. The fight with Omega Justice. Or maybe he hadn't. He had recollections of something, but they were dreamlike and eluded his grasp. Then again, he could merely be remembering a dream. Life was so confusing! Ashton sighed, and stared at the now-cold cup of coffee in front of him. The table was skittering around on insectoid legs, but he payed it no heed. The chandelier seemed to be held up only by spiderwebs, and red eyes blinked vilely in the grey haze. Somniac sipped his coffee, and when he put his mug down the coffee lingered in the air, a gelatinous blob. It floated off somewhere, Ashton watching it go a little wistfully. 

 

These were the Dreamlands. A small county where the laws of the universe just did not seem to apply. Ashton just seemed to assume that they had always been here. The truth was much more complicated. It began with Somniac being accepted into this high society…in most circles, Somniac was godly in power, possessing and harnessing the most personal aspect of human life. But here? Somniac was little more than a curiosity for beings with so much more power than even HE could dream of. 

 
But even dreams may dream. Somniac's personal menagerie, the embodiment of tropes that Jung would have shuddered at, lusted for power in a way few ever had. They collected the power residue left in the wake of these gods who walked the Earth. Such small traces…so insignificant individually. But woven together by the spidery hands of Morpheus, it created a tapestry like no other. Thrown over a small portion of the Earth, the Dreaming was made manifest.  
 
And now the rules of reality were unbound in that small section of what used to be France. The only limits were those which humanity feared pass even in those nocturnal hours when the most primal of laws were abandoned. Few dared tread here. The most terrifying of dreams is the waking nightmare. When one is trapped in a cage of one's own devising. Those who resided here were unearthly, or walked the lands unheeding, sleepwalkers.  
 
So the nightmares held sway in the waking world, what next? Ashton had no use, had served his purpose, had he not? No…perhaps his time in the mortal coil was not yet spent. Nightmares may be single-minded, but they are not stupid. Even gods have bad dreams. Seeing them wandering around free is an afront…perhaps a fatal one. Keeping the human host, feigning reliance might be the key to survival. 
 
So Ashton walked down the halls, searching for his room. He was sure the door had been there a moment ago…it seemed to have sprouted wings and was flying across the corridor now. He frowned. How was he going to get to his bed now? Oh well…the floor looked nice….he collapsed, his head resting against a pillow that had moments before been a frog. 
 
Perhaps the other lands seem more demonic…or paradisiacal. But remember that one always carries their own personal heaven or hell with them, which can manifest whenever they close their eyes...
#6 Posted by Somniac (153 posts) - - Show Bio

Posted. 
 
And it seems writing with this character makes me sleepy.

#7 Posted by Somniac (153 posts) - - Show Bio

A Somewhat Hazy Past

 
The café smelled of coffee and cologne, stale pastries and the winter wind. The wallpaper was muted, long faded. Perhaps each set of eyes upon it drained it of its color. People spoke in muted voices, mugs of coffee or hot chocolate clutched in their hands. In the background, jazz muzak played, notes plinked out on an out-of-tune piano. Outside the frosted windows, the wind howled. The sun had set long ago, and the moon glared ominously through bare-branched trees. This was the borderlands of Canada, the last refuge of civilization. Here, the Dreaming was always close: Ethereal forests, and golden sunsets.  
 
Ashton Miles stared at the cold coffee in front of him. His head rested on the grainy wooden table, and his heavily lidded eyes were somewhere else. A towering figure appeared in the door, and with that logic that only works in dreams, Ashton stood up and followed him…a sleepwalker in the night. Darkchild lead the dreamer onwards into a new tomorrow. 
 

T-Minus 5 Hours

The room was vast, or maybe it was terribly small. Shadow and light mixed and fought, making perspective change wildly. Somniac was slumped in his chair, eyes closed, yet perceiving all that was happening in his twisted way. The one who had lead him here was prominently in the center of the room…menacing and brooding. Then there was a demon girl, whose eyes held a flickering flame. One of the other men looked almost familiar….one known as Eternal Chaos. Somniac suspected that he spent much time in the Dreaming. The devil himself was by the door. Or was he? Somniac wasn't sure, but Final Arrow instilled a feeling of dread in him. The burning man…every time Somniac closed his eyes, he burst into a vortex of fire. ReEnforcer. The small one…the child. Two-in-one. And Asesino, the balance…This simplification into basic archetypes was how Somniac viewed the world. A tarat deck of humanity. 
 
Somniac jolted to consciousness, shifting his chair slightly. He looked blearily across the table, to where holographic schematics were flickering. "  Within this building the leaders of every single branch of the French Government including the now acting president of France will be meeting, in homage to our departed former leader…" The words washed over Somniac like a wave, the meaning embedding itself into his subconscious…Darkchild snapped his fingers, and Somniac tried once more to focus. "  We will show the world with bloodshed what we are, that we will purify everything with complete darkness". Darkness….a locked coffin, dead not sleeping. Darkness. The world far beneath the waves, where creatures beyond imagining lurked. Darkness…the- "  You two will take the front door. Simple as that, get to it dispose of the guards and keep anyone or anything from interrupting us from achieving our goal. That means getting inside and keeping them out." Yes, Somniac could do that. Easily. Too easily. Was it a trap? But no, people just counted on their dreams being separate from their realities. When they weren't…no mortal laws could keep them. 
 
Azrael and Child will enter through the back finding and taking control of their communication with the outside world. You will need to be swift, once the boys take the front door walkie's will be buzzing and people will try to warn the officials." Ring, ring….ring, ring…telephone for one Mr. Miles…your dinosaur is outside…please remove it….the rest of the missions were lost on the slumbering portal to dark dimensions unseen. 
#8 Posted by Somniac (153 posts) - - Show Bio
@Donnieman v5.1: Yes.  
 
((Now I must be going...goodnight!))
#9 Posted by Somniac (153 posts) - - Show Bio
@Donnieman v5.1: We're not a league...we just happen to take advantage of the fact that this man is a conduit to this world.
#10 Posted by Somniac (153 posts) - - Show Bio
@Donnieman v5.1: ....League? What league?