undergrounds | Mr. Sandman

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Mr. Sandman

6 Feb.

It's February, still cold but Valentine's Day just around the corner and people starting to think of spring, it might not be surprising that romance seems to be in the air. Hard to pin down just what the difference is—but romance seems to be nagging at a lot of minds.

It might be because last night, you had a dream. Nothing clear, but bits and pieces stick with you. Maybe it was just stolen glances and light kisses, or maybe it was flashes and surprising jolts of something more physical, more raw. Either way, the dream doesn't quite fade away when daylight comes.

The strangest part? It's about someone you normally try not to think of that way.

Dreams are like that though, sometimes. It's probably nothing.

10 Feb.

A few days later, and the dreams keep on keeping on. For at least one person, it's every night. For others, it may be more intermittent. It may be just happening for the first time, after a visit to the Redbright Institute or passing through the surrounding neighbor, or after chatting with a particular vampire. It might happen spontaneously. Either way the dreams keep coming, and they continue to be about someone in particular, someone who you've been denying or ignoring your attraction to, but it's getting hard to pretend you don't feel a little warmer when you think about them.

It's starting to seem like there's something a little weird going on here. Even weirder? There's a chance that the person you're dreaming about is having the same dreams. Not just romantic dreams—the exact same shared dreams.

At least, they are if they're dreaming of you too.

14 Feb.

It's been a week now, and the dreams keep escalating. Not only do they become more frequent, they're more vivid. What started with disjointed images and feelings, more impressions than anything else, have evolved into full narratives—ranging from chastely romantic nonsense, imagining that the object of your desire is a knight coming to rescue you from a dragon, or arrived to offer comfort and support in a bleak moment, to intensely erotic. Some of them may be down right silly.

But the common thread is there. They are all about the same person, and they all expose the fact that you care about them in a way that's not as platonic as you've pretended.

And maybe it's about time you confronted that?

On the other hand, maybe you're just riding this out.

Either way, this is getting sorted out tonight. There's not going to be a better time for it

Threaded | Flat

Sex dreams were decidedly NOT a usual thing for Daryl. Sure he had morning wood as much as the next guy, but not as a result of a vividly explicit dream. Or eight. The first time it happened was after he'd visited the Redbright Institute to see if they had any records of a squirrel shifter student anytime in the past five years. No dice. But as the visit was right before his normal mid-day nap time, he'd gone and found a sunny, secluded spot in the garden to curl up in. And maybe an hour later woken up in a cold sweat and fully human. Apparently when he'd gotten into what was happening in the dream, he'd transformed to match. Not a fun realization.

He had to figure the reason it'd been about Natasha was because he was at the institute.

The second time it'd happened was that same night, during his mid-night nap. This time about a different, equally attractive Vampire. But one with a very different body.

The third time was the very next day, once more during his mid-day catnap. And once more he woke up human and with a hard on he couldn't easily get rid of.

For some reason the dreams continued, getting more detailed each time, and alternating between the two. Every time he shut his eyes it seemed, he would get himself into an embarrassing situation and have to quickly find some place private to relieve himself of the tension.

The one that really got to him, though, was the one that came at midnight when the 13th was rolling over to the 14th. Of all the dreams he'd had, it was the only one that didn't involve sex, though he wouldn't be surprised if that eventually happened with how much his libido had suddenly spiked. But it was also the one that made him really, really ashamed for having it at all. A man shouldn't dream about a happy domestic life with a married woman. Even if she'd been helping him take care of a small child off and on for the last week. Made it really difficult to face Liadan the next time he saw her.

[]OOC: Daryl's only personally experiencing dreams about 3 people, but if you'd like to play out a dream your character is having about him, I'm game.]]

Some of the dreams were more tame. Make out sessions at the back of the club, or snuggling up together, watching a TV and chatting quietly. Others were far more sexually explicit. All of them, however, left him with a lingering sense of the smell of wolf and a memory of far too bright red hair.

He didn't even know what had brought this on. These dreams hadn't even started until days after he and Party were at the club together, and there had been nothing that had reminded Roddy of him. All he knew was that they had suddenly started, and once they did, they just kept getting more intense despite him trying desperately to get them out of his head.

As time went on, they got more elaborate, too. Full violin concerts being put on for his audience, or spending a night camping in the woods together, comparing wolf and rat survival tricks. And, of course, the sexual fantasies hadn't stopped, either, they had only gotten longer and more explicit.

[[OOC: Roddy's only dreaming about one person, but if anyone would like to play out a dream or if anyone's dreaming about him that would like to hit him up and have awkwardness ensue, feel free.]]

It started small enough. Glimpses of red hair, high heels, the smell of lipstick and whiskey. Evie woke up with the taste of it on her tongue. What was odd though, she found, wasn't that she'd had a sexual dream- though far be it from her to tell anyone about it, she still had some of her Victorian sensibilities, after all- but was that it was about a woman. Evie had always been quick to decide if another woman was attractive or not, after all she wasn't blind. But she'd never been attracted to them.

Normally, she would have written it off. But as the month wore on, the dreams became more and more explicit, and it was getting harder and harder to ignore that these dreams were about Natasha.

Yet night after night, she found herself in these dreams, getting closer and closer to the younger Russian, yet she was always out of reach.

On one particular night, her dream found her in the same dilemma. Dressed in what would have been her human-self's nightmare- a light purple number that was laced far too tightly for her taste- she was chasing after Natasha on horseback, one hand reaching out for her. But Natasha would always dash up a bit further ahead, laughing, as the two women made their way through a forest. She knew what was up ahead, instinctively- a spot in the woods where someone had made a garden, hidden from most's eyes.

And oh, she realized, as they slowed down to a walk, they had a picnic basket. Now this was just ridiculous.

[like everyone above, while Evie's only dreaming about one person, lmk if you want her to pop up in your dream.]

Edited 2017-02-08 03:21 (UTC)

Dreams were nothing unusual. Nancy had a good number of nightmares, and really wrote off most dreams she had. But something was different about the most recent ones she'd been having. They seemed to linger even longer when she woke up, leaving her feeling a little hazy, thinking back through the dream multiple times over coffee.

Soon enough, she started to notice patterns. There were three particular people that kept coming back in her dreams.

Sometimes, she'd dream about the man that slept beside her, his strong arms wrapped around her, how perfectly she fit against him.

Sometimes, she'd dream about a man that used to sleep beside her, the weight of his dog at the foot of the bed, her head against his chest.

And sometimes, she'd dream about a man she used to sleep with, in fine silk sheets that housekeeping would wash as they went from room to room, champagne from room service sitting on ice.

It was easy to see why she dreamt of the first two. It was the third that had her concerned. But it was a dream, she told herself every morning. A weird, vivid dream, just as the others had been. But it was a dream. So it couldn't possibly mean anything.

Could it?

[lmk if you want Nancy to show up in your dreams!]

Caroline dreams of the sun. It's been so long since she was outside during daylight hours and she misses it dearly. And so her mind takes her out there, in her favourite sundress, where she can just let the rays warm her skin.

There are times when she's not alone though, of course. Sometimes, the people she sees are memories, those she left behind back in America. And sometimes they are people she's met since she arrived.

One of those people is Jean-Claude who, despite the heat, is dressed in that outfit she enjoyed so much at the Christmas Party. "Are you hot?" she asks, then grins since he most definitely is. And she's sure he knows it.

The chamber is dark, save for the candles here and there, but Jean-Claude does not mind. He is used to shadows and darkness -- he is a creature of the night, after all, and he does not mind the lack of light. He stands by the edge of the room, just by the window, gazing out at the moon and the stars beyond, listening to the gentle song of the ocean below, and he remembers this place. Remembers the days and the nights spent a slave, a prisoner to Belle's mercy. No, not her mercy. To her lusts.

But when he turns it is not Belle that he sees lingering by the post of the bed to greet him. He smiles to see the other man there, smiles at his posture, and his body instantly relaxes in a way that he never truly could around his Master. As much as a body can relax in such a tightly laced doublet as Jean-Claude is wearing. The fabric a deep blue, emphasizing the midnight blue of his eyes, framed in a face as pale as the moonlight itself, his dark curls loose about his shoulders. Along with breeches and stockings, Jean-Claude is wearing a short cape and loosely in one hand he clutches a feathered hat.

"I have always enjoyed the sound of the waves," he says, lingering where he is for the moment.

In the midst of all of these dreams, Natasha manages to fit in the promised visit with Joscelin. For her it, it seems like a good time for it. Safe. A distraction from the dreams that have been with her the last three nights. She shows up at his door well after midnight, but she has confidence her knocking won't wake him.

She does text first, so he has warning. She's not a complete savage, or that out of touch with modern technology.

"Is it a bad time for a game?" she asks when he answers the door.

Threaded | Flat

Daryl | OTA for dreamshares

Roddy | OTA

Evie | OTA & Natasha

Nancy | OTA & Cooper & Cesare