When The Lights Go Out - Nightmare Meme
Apr. 24th, 2017 03:52 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
carnagecarnival-loss of personhood, brainwashing, mouth mutilation, torture, suicidal ideation
He tastes blood in his teeth, it won't stop spilling from his lips no matter how he tries to hold it in and he can tell he's drowning in it. He can feel the pressure of his own bite, he can feel the snips and incisions to go with the clinical talk of subjects. His throat is torn wide open to allow them to cut him apart, take his voice out, and they do so messy. He is in a room in the Capitol and it is so, so very white, blinding, and the only thing he can find that won't hurt his eyes are the drops of blood he can tell are his own.
They tear him open but he can't move, he can't fight, not even as something purely molten begins to flow through his veins and he wants desperately to scream but he can't through the threads being woven through his lips. It builds and builds and bursts, breaking the threads and his mouth to bits, leaving him only his fangs as the world lurches on his scream and Death Himself hauls him by his open throat. Those great jaws open and clamp down and pull and he can see more than voice and blood, his own soul being torn away. Each second dulls him down to a nothing. He feels nothing, he is nothing, he is only barely there and he wants not to be at all. But he can't be. He is made to exist and ever minute drags as he can do nothing but watch behind glassy eyes as life continues to unfold without him.
Orders ring out abstract but nevertheless running through him like fire and electric current and something so much worse. To deny them is impossible, it's worse and he can't fight at all. He wants to scream but he can't. He wants the fear to stop, stop, please stop, it's too much, he wants to be seen inside this husk, he wants to escape it, he wants to hide, he wants to disappear. All the while he shifts back and forth with being his current self and being that young Beforan, according to which fits which memory.
-child abuse, torture, murder, child slaughter, unreality
He's young, Beforan. But he's on Alternia. He's on Alternia and everything happens exactly like it happened only he desperately wants it to stop. He runs through the trials and watches wrigglers be torn in two. He's attacked on the shore and can't fight as they stomp on his bones and try to carve out his guts. They drag him and his claws catch nothing but sand, closer and closer to the swallowing sea. They try and kill him a hundred different ways but he doesn't die and they don't stop when he screams. He sees himself, properly Alternian, simply watching as all unfolds. Waiting.
He is able to fight back once as he recalls his first cull, slamming down the gospelevity on some troll's head over and over again but the troll twitches and likewise doesn't die. His Alternian self remains impassive but he himself relives everything through new eyes and when the troll is finally dead he is dragged to the subjugglators. He's in his armor, wielding clubs, being told to make them hurt and the troll in the chair is familiar, it's Meulin, it's Mituna, it's Latula, and he does as he's told and they scream and hurt and plead and cry just as he knew they would. He makes them all bleed and suffer in ways they never knew they could and he does so until he can't. They try to put him in the chair but he runs, back onto the shore.
It's there the Alternian self waits, both of him the same age now, the other surrounded by three corpses. He runs to him anyway, begs, but the Alternian only lifts his head to bear fangs and pounces. Claws tear at his chest, rip open his ribs, and the other climbs inside. He is the Grand Highblood then and from behind his own eyes he simply watches as he tears the world apart piece by piece at a time until everything ceases to be real, simply a kaleidoscope of ghosts and screams and whispers and visions. He sees one friend, one dear bit of real family, who dares to approach and as he reaches out they simply shatter under his touch like porcelain. He laughs.
-Mass murder, burning alive, suicidal ideation
In other dreams, his cruelty stays simple. Just like in memory he gives the order. The whole hivestem lights but instead of the bitter resignation his grin spreads wide. The hivestem shifts between alternian and the Tribute Tower of Panem, filled all up with old friends and alliances, the people who saved him. It easily settles in the meadous. He marvels at the way the screams sound the same, even Terezi and Mituna and Meulin, until he closes his eyes and they all just sound like the Signless trying to escape from his own sizzling flesh. When he closes his eyes he can feel it burn himself and he is so alive with it. Everything peels back and away into non-existence and he's ecstatic until the very moment he can't be. Within such a dream, he doesn't find himself at all disturbed until he wakes.
-child neglect, abandonment
Many of these dreams are simply memories. He's always small and it's hard to tell whether he's Alternian or Beforan in these. The endless water stretching out and himself at the line of the shore. Sometimes he's injured and bleeding out, sometimes he's actively being attacked by a blur of trolls. Other times the threat is unknown and he's simply running from it, rushing into the waves that terrify him and begging, pleading, for the old goat to come back. He's always just there on the horizon, just out of reach, if he doesn't later disappear altogether.
Sometimes those little touches of Beforus slip and he's dragged screaming from the shore by Culling Officers and he begs with them too to let him stay. He's dragged this way and that but if he ever reaches out to anyone they pull away. If he runs for home they drag him back. Should he be at last dumped before his ancestor, he is only a looming shadow that Kurloz stares up into. Try as he might he can't see the troll's face.
Often times the dream continues, presenting itself in a hundred different ways to portray that sense of being abandoned by all those around. He runs in the dark after voices he can't reach. He is lovingly carved by his allies. He is left by each and every person. He is held up by tethers representing them all, some part of him crumbling away as they snap one by one, voices cackling as he starts to beg and then snarl and then worse still. They all hurt him somehow, every single person.
-drowning, eaten alive, child abuse?
He's dragged down. Whether it's by rip current, by seadweller, or by some beast, it doesn't much matter. He has memories of all and so each is equally vivid. He's pulled down, down, down. Sometimes he simply finds himself already at the bottom. If he finds the surface, there's no land, or he's encased and the room is quickly filling. If he does not, he simply flails about in the dark. His stunted fins burn, the scars at his side join in, then soon his lungs, all in familiar order. It's not enough to simply die that way. His lusus shows, perfectly content with underwater life, but rather than save, those great jaws open to a thousand needle teeth. Every time he knows it's coming and yet every time the shame and hurt and fear is the same. Sometimes he hears aquatic laughter but most of the time it is utterly silent.
-death, immortality, failure
It's old hat but there's no fun quite like recalling the deaths of all those around, watching the rebellion, the meadous, his homeworlds fall to ash, while he himself remains a conglomerate of death after death, murder after murder dripping from his hands, while never, ever, dying.
-death, aging, immortality
Everyone around him ages, dies, and becomes dust. He remains exactly the same, just as he is. He sits his throne on a mountain of ash and does not move.
-Everything
Yes. Everything. He is in a constant state of fear and is regularly experiencing everyone's daymares and nightmares. If it is on the meme, he has experienced it.
He tastes blood in his teeth, it won't stop spilling from his lips no matter how he tries to hold it in and he can tell he's drowning in it. He can feel the pressure of his own bite, he can feel the snips and incisions to go with the clinical talk of subjects. His throat is torn wide open to allow them to cut him apart, take his voice out, and they do so messy. He is in a room in the Capitol and it is so, so very white, blinding, and the only thing he can find that won't hurt his eyes are the drops of blood he can tell are his own.
They tear him open but he can't move, he can't fight, not even as something purely molten begins to flow through his veins and he wants desperately to scream but he can't through the threads being woven through his lips. It builds and builds and bursts, breaking the threads and his mouth to bits, leaving him only his fangs as the world lurches on his scream and Death Himself hauls him by his open throat. Those great jaws open and clamp down and pull and he can see more than voice and blood, his own soul being torn away. Each second dulls him down to a nothing. He feels nothing, he is nothing, he is only barely there and he wants not to be at all. But he can't be. He is made to exist and ever minute drags as he can do nothing but watch behind glassy eyes as life continues to unfold without him.
Orders ring out abstract but nevertheless running through him like fire and electric current and something so much worse. To deny them is impossible, it's worse and he can't fight at all. He wants to scream but he can't. He wants the fear to stop, stop, please stop, it's too much, he wants to be seen inside this husk, he wants to escape it, he wants to hide, he wants to disappear. All the while he shifts back and forth with being his current self and being that young Beforan, according to which fits which memory.
-child abuse, torture, murder, child slaughter, unreality
He's young, Beforan. But he's on Alternia. He's on Alternia and everything happens exactly like it happened only he desperately wants it to stop. He runs through the trials and watches wrigglers be torn in two. He's attacked on the shore and can't fight as they stomp on his bones and try to carve out his guts. They drag him and his claws catch nothing but sand, closer and closer to the swallowing sea. They try and kill him a hundred different ways but he doesn't die and they don't stop when he screams. He sees himself, properly Alternian, simply watching as all unfolds. Waiting.
He is able to fight back once as he recalls his first cull, slamming down the gospelevity on some troll's head over and over again but the troll twitches and likewise doesn't die. His Alternian self remains impassive but he himself relives everything through new eyes and when the troll is finally dead he is dragged to the subjugglators. He's in his armor, wielding clubs, being told to make them hurt and the troll in the chair is familiar, it's Meulin, it's Mituna, it's Latula, and he does as he's told and they scream and hurt and plead and cry just as he knew they would. He makes them all bleed and suffer in ways they never knew they could and he does so until he can't. They try to put him in the chair but he runs, back onto the shore.
It's there the Alternian self waits, both of him the same age now, the other surrounded by three corpses. He runs to him anyway, begs, but the Alternian only lifts his head to bear fangs and pounces. Claws tear at his chest, rip open his ribs, and the other climbs inside. He is the Grand Highblood then and from behind his own eyes he simply watches as he tears the world apart piece by piece at a time until everything ceases to be real, simply a kaleidoscope of ghosts and screams and whispers and visions. He sees one friend, one dear bit of real family, who dares to approach and as he reaches out they simply shatter under his touch like porcelain. He laughs.
-Mass murder, burning alive, suicidal ideation
In other dreams, his cruelty stays simple. Just like in memory he gives the order. The whole hivestem lights but instead of the bitter resignation his grin spreads wide. The hivestem shifts between alternian and the Tribute Tower of Panem, filled all up with old friends and alliances, the people who saved him. It easily settles in the meadous. He marvels at the way the screams sound the same, even Terezi and Mituna and Meulin, until he closes his eyes and they all just sound like the Signless trying to escape from his own sizzling flesh. When he closes his eyes he can feel it burn himself and he is so alive with it. Everything peels back and away into non-existence and he's ecstatic until the very moment he can't be. Within such a dream, he doesn't find himself at all disturbed until he wakes.
-child neglect, abandonment
Many of these dreams are simply memories. He's always small and it's hard to tell whether he's Alternian or Beforan in these. The endless water stretching out and himself at the line of the shore. Sometimes he's injured and bleeding out, sometimes he's actively being attacked by a blur of trolls. Other times the threat is unknown and he's simply running from it, rushing into the waves that terrify him and begging, pleading, for the old goat to come back. He's always just there on the horizon, just out of reach, if he doesn't later disappear altogether.
Sometimes those little touches of Beforus slip and he's dragged screaming from the shore by Culling Officers and he begs with them too to let him stay. He's dragged this way and that but if he ever reaches out to anyone they pull away. If he runs for home they drag him back. Should he be at last dumped before his ancestor, he is only a looming shadow that Kurloz stares up into. Try as he might he can't see the troll's face.
Often times the dream continues, presenting itself in a hundred different ways to portray that sense of being abandoned by all those around. He runs in the dark after voices he can't reach. He is lovingly carved by his allies. He is left by each and every person. He is held up by tethers representing them all, some part of him crumbling away as they snap one by one, voices cackling as he starts to beg and then snarl and then worse still. They all hurt him somehow, every single person.
-drowning, eaten alive, child abuse?
He's dragged down. Whether it's by rip current, by seadweller, or by some beast, it doesn't much matter. He has memories of all and so each is equally vivid. He's pulled down, down, down. Sometimes he simply finds himself already at the bottom. If he finds the surface, there's no land, or he's encased and the room is quickly filling. If he does not, he simply flails about in the dark. His stunted fins burn, the scars at his side join in, then soon his lungs, all in familiar order. It's not enough to simply die that way. His lusus shows, perfectly content with underwater life, but rather than save, those great jaws open to a thousand needle teeth. Every time he knows it's coming and yet every time the shame and hurt and fear is the same. Sometimes he hears aquatic laughter but most of the time it is utterly silent.
-death, immortality, failure
It's old hat but there's no fun quite like recalling the deaths of all those around, watching the rebellion, the meadous, his homeworlds fall to ash, while he himself remains a conglomerate of death after death, murder after murder dripping from his hands, while never, ever, dying.
-death, aging, immortality
Everyone around him ages, dies, and becomes dust. He remains exactly the same, just as he is. He sits his throne on a mountain of ash and does not move.
-Everything
Yes. Everything. He is in a constant state of fear and is regularly experiencing everyone's daymares and nightmares. If it is on the meme, he has experienced it.
