songerein | DREAM: Neon Lights

Who: Luca and YOU
Which: Open Interactive Dream
Where: ? ? ?
What: This is the dream where everyone gets hopelessly lost in a dazzling city. Also, there are film reels.
Warnings: Disorientation, memory issues, may add more if needed.

Tonight's dream takes place in the fantastical city of Metropolis! You, dreamwalker, have found yourself in the entertainment district. Neon lights! Towering buildings! "Futuristic" technology made available to the average consumer! Such prosperity and light, all thanks to Balsa's patented Perpetual Motion Generator.

Oh, but don't you have somewhere to be?

Anyone who enters this dream will Have the unshakable feeling that they're running late for something important. What that something is depends on the person; one fellow might be late for school, another might be late for work, yet another has promised to meet a rival somewhere for a duel… And so on and so forth. Wherever you must be, getting there will be easier said than done.

Neon Lights
Unfortunately for everyone, navigating Metropolis is pretty much impossible. The buildings seem to shift around when you're not looking, and if you walk down the street long enough there's a good chance you'll end up right where you started. No matter which way you turn. Maps are non-existent. Clocks are unreliable, since they seem to either show random times or not change at all. You can't even use the stars to navigate with all the dark clouds in the perpetual night sky!

You could always ask someone for help… But it seems most of the citizens here are the same few robots copied and pasted everywhere. None of the robots are remotely helpful. Either they give you nonsense directions, become annoyed that you're asking them for directions, or flat out ignore you. Maybe one of your fellow dreamwalker might be better off…

Neon Corridors
Did you manage to locate a building you were looking for? Good! Now you can get lost inside of it!

See, the inside of any given building is just as labyrinthian as the city itself, only the laws of physics hold less power. Hallways seem to stretch on forever with no end in sight. You're suddenly unable to read the labels next to the door. There are no elevators or stairs. Instead, the elevator doors open to reveal something that looks like the tubes of an adult McDonald's Play place.

There's no telling what's on the other side of any given door. There's a good chance you may walk in on someone else's business meeting. Or you may suddenly find yourself in the subway. Or a classroom. You might even open the door and find a giant corn field on the other side. The possibilities are literally endless! Oh no!

The Disaster Auditorium
Eventually, whether you were looking for the dreamer or not, you’ll stumble upon a humble projector room. Nothing too special other than a view of the connected theater from the glass. But there is a familiar voice coming from a closed door…

Investigation yields a large storage room. It might be more accurate to call it a cinematic library, for there are hundreds of film reels stored on an endless line of shelving… And some film reels on the tables… And some unfurled on the floor with the papers and office supplies… Okay, it looks like a tornado blew through the place. That gaping hole in the corner with the swirling violet light spilling out of it doesn’t seem good either, but judging by the scraps of torn police tape getting sucked in on one end it seems all efforts to repair it have failed.

In the center of it all is none other than Luca himself, looking a bit more like a fancy cyborg than usual. The poor fellow mutters hopelessly to himself as he’s going through the film reels, trying in vain to make sense of it all. He must have been left to clean everything up… By himself. The task has left him so busy that he hasn’t even noticed any dreamwalkers stumbling upon this mess.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Tenn starts his exploration on a catwalk, somewhere high up overlooking the city. He wonders if it’s his own dream for a moment. But taking a better look, this is not his home nor does it match any of the sci-fi musicals or dramas he's been in. Someone else's dream, then. Yet looking down at himself, Tenn finds he’s well-dressed for the setting (and thankfully feeling like himself despite the robot doll attire.) He turns to follow the creaking metal walkway, but doesn't wander in stillness long as a nagging thought descends on him: didn't he agree to be somewhere? Why is he loitering? Frowning, Tenn hurries to the nearest staircase, sudden urgency eclipsing his unease.

In an up and down and backwards sort of way that leaves even this big city idol feeling turned around, a flustered Tenn finally opens a door to something grounding. There's pained sympathy clear on his face; as a theater kid, this hurts to look at. What a mess... was a crime committed here? Someone rifling through searching for a specific film? There are too many options to consider, especially once Tenn freezes at the sight of the... portal? (He knows enough to go nowhere near that. No point in investigating if you're not still here to report, after all.)

He'd leave if he thought it would do any good, but the lone muttering soul in the chaos is an even more distressing sight. Tenn delicately picks his way around the mess and addresses him in a carefully neutral tone, making sure his earlier exasperation doesn’t slip in. The poor fellow has enough to deal with.

"Excuse me, what happened here?"

"Aah!"

The man spins on his heel-- And is relieved to find it's only some helpful stranger. "Ah heh. Beg your pardon, I wasn't expecting visitors."

He puts the film reel he was holding under his arm and approaches the stranger with an awkward grin. "Could you spare a moment to help? The owner of this theater passed away and he left me with a huge mess to sort out! It's taking so long to organize everything on my own, I can't remember what the outside of this room looks like..."

If he were alone in a room with a wormhole, Tenn would be wary of sudden visitors too. He holds up a hand in reassurance and listens quietly.

"I see... I'm very sorry to hear that." Under the sympathy, Tenn's words are a little slow and unsure. He doesn't want to appear rude given context, yet that fact doesn't seem relevant to the disaster here. (Then again, this gentleman didn't say how the owner died. ... Best give that swirling light a wide berth.)

There's still the urgent, restless feeling, but Tenn isn't eager to throw himself into the nonsense outside again. At least in here, there's someone directly in front of him that he can help. He does hesitate, wondering if he should take the last comment as a humorous exaggeration. (What did the corridor look like? His memories of the halls blur together.) Either way, it doesn't change his response.

"Of course. Though, I don't want to move anything I shouldn't." Tenn adds, glancing at the futilely fluttering CAUTION tape.

When she comes to consciousness inside the dreamscape, Zelda finds herself rushing down a long corridor with a leather bag clutched in her arms. The illusion of the dreamscape grips Zelda fully; she is frantic with the realization that she is late to make her presentation for her dissertation advisory committee at the university. The moment she's in control of her legs, Zelda stumbles in her cream-colored pumps and rolls her ankle. She goes crashing down to the floor, her bag flying out of her hands. Spiral-bound notebooks and loose papers spill out across the hallway, and little glass vials filled with plant samples shatter on the marble tiles.

Zelda gasps in horror at the sight, clutching her sprained ankle. All her work, years of research and experimentation that she was going to present before the dissertation advisory committee at the university... She was going to be the first woman to receive her doctoral degree in this field. The committee will never accept her presentation now that the samples are ruined!

Fat tears roll down her cheeks as she begins to sob. Zelda covers her eyes with her handkerchief to try to keep her makeup from smudging, but it's a hopeless effort. She's a pathetic sight for anyone to see, plopped on the floor with a swollen ankle and a mess of papers and broken glass scattered all around her.

The shattering echoed for miles. Everyone in earshot should have noticed the fall. And yet, the robots care not. They ignore her sobs, mindlessly walking around her and stepping on her papers. Too busy with their own lives to deal with her...

... Wait. There's a soft screeching sound coming from some unseen radio, and a familiar voice calls out to her. "Hello? Are you alright, miss?"

There's a presence, for sure, but the owner of the voice is nowhere to be seen.

"Wait, please watch where you step!" Zelda pleads to the passing robots. "Be careful! My work--!" But her voice goes unheard. Callous footsteps trample across her life's work, tearing pages and tracking grime all over everything.

Zelda scrambles over to the mess on her hands and knees, ignoring the dirt getting smudged over her dress while she crawls. She throws her over her work, arms spread out wide, using herself as a human shield to stop the robots from trampling all over her precious research.

That's when she hears the familiar voice on the radio addressing her. She can't immediately place a face to the voice, but it sparks recognition in her mind. Zelda looks up, eyes searching wildly for a speaker that might be its source. Is someone speaking to her over the university's P.A. system?

"My work!" she bemoans, this time addressing the unseen voice instead of the robots. "It's ruined!"

DREAM: Neon Lights

The Disaster Auditorium - I’m not canon familiar, but happy to wing it!

No need for canon familiarity here! This is just a weird dream~!

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Neon Corridors

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