[fleurs]

mark!

[justamindset]

username: DragonOfEmber || 695530
kalon name: Yn
prompt: wip

[MuddyPawprints]

username: viscidogg
kalon name: blade
prompt:[/b] wip

[KVShadow]

Mark~

[LokisTrick]

Mark

[SilentMelody]

Username: SilentMelody || Name: Bás Teachtaire ("messenger death") || Gender: female

Bás Teachtaire is a ghost, but she doesn't realize that. She's spent her undead years afraid of ghosts chasing after her and believing that she's haunted. She runs after the living and cries for help. None of them wish to do anything but leave.

---

Pounding heart, pounding feet. I'm dizzy, but I can't stop running. This is a chance at freedom. "You have to help me," I wail. "Please help me!"

The other runs screaming, and I'm left alone. Again. Although not completely alone.

I whip my head this way and that, frantically searching for the ghost that was chasing after me. Wisps of white appear in the corners of my vision, and I scream. "Where are you?! Please, show yourself! Don't do this!!" The other presence doesn't show for a moment, and I'm in the dark wondering anxiously. Suddenly a faint silhouette against the treeline appears again, flickering softly with ivory skin and black eyes. Splashes of red and blue cover its body. It began taking small steps towards me before picking up its pace and breaking into a sprint.

Holding my head in my hands and shaking, I continue to run through the forest. "Don't hurt me! Don't kill me!!" I had almost gotten away, I thought I was almost free.

I pause, breathless when I spot a cabin. Running up, I pound on the wooden door and wail again. The people inside shriek and rummage around for light, wanting to see what's outside. "Help me! Help me, please!!" A dimmed flashlight points my way, and the people shout again. A child cries, and a parent shushes them.

"Go away!" a voice comes from inside, and the curtains shut quickly.

Shaken up from these words, I cross my arms tightly together and claw at my forearms. "Please," I cry. Moving to the window, I scratch the glass and create long gouges. Bits of glass fall from the cracks and rain down on the porch I stand on. I glance down and see the white wisps again, clouding around my feet. The ghost has followed me, I can't escape it. My hope slowly ebbed away again.

"Noooooo, nooooooooooooo!" I wail and stumble backward, tripping over my own self in fear. Cold air buffets against my fur and I know that it's catching up to me. "Please, no!!"

Flinging myself into the forest again, I sob openly. "Why me, why?!" In my hurry of an escape, I trip over a root. I tumble down a hill, pieces of leaves catching in my hair. Surrendering, I collapse on the ground and weep. A wolf approaches me slowly before snarling and backing away as fast as it came. Even animals can find no way to help. I dig my hands into the mud below and clench them into fists, gritting my teeth painfully. The fallen leaves catch the wind and twirl around me as if taunting me for my inability. My tears burn as they trail down my cheeks, and I wipe them hastily away.

Everyone is so afraid, just like me. No one will help me.

Clenching my eyes shut, I assure myself that this is just a dream and force myself to fall asleep. It's a cruel dream, and I'll wake up in the morning. I'll be perfectly fine tomorrow, and this ghost will be gone. I'll be free.

I wake up when what seems like moments later, and I'm back where I started again. A bloodcurdling scream escapes my throat.

[deerbroken]

username: deerbroken
kalon name: deliverance [dell]
prompt:
A girl. A scream. The same dream, every night.

He wakes suddenly, his heart pounding in his ears. Whenever he falls asleep, the same dream haunts him, leaves a chilling tingle in his spine and fear in his mind as he wonders what it could possibly mean. It bothers him so that he avoids resting as much as he can, drinks coffee all day and sips from energy drinks at night. Still, it's not enough; he has to sleep at some point, and when he does, it always comes back to him.

The dream tends to go like this: He comes to a dark street corner, a light illuminating an alleyway nearby. The shops are all closed around him; the time is difficult to discern, but the moon is high in the sky and the clouds surround it in a menacing sort of way. He walks, his hands in his coat pockets, before he hears something in the distance. A scream, and the sounds of footsteps running. It's far away, however, and as fast as he tries to run he can never make it in time. Before he reaches the location of the sound, he hears a gunshot, and as he rounds the corner of another alleyway there's a black figure on the ground. He can never see her face, but she has the same voice, the same shape of the silhouette. When he tries to look up at the killer, he wakes up suddenly, a dull pain in his chest as if he'd been shot himself.

He tries not to think about it. Not to wonder if it's a prophecy, a vision. He wouldn't dare tell another soul of the dream, out of fear of something deeper hidden in its meaning that they might see before him. It feels so real; and, the fact that it happens nearly every night makes it feel as if it's reality, something that has already happened before. A distant memory trying to climb its way back to his consciousness.


---


As he's walking home from work one night, he takes a different route to his apartment, and stops cold in his tracks as he realizes the view is familiar. His breath catches and his hands shake within his coat pockets, and he realizes that it's the street from his dream. He shakes his head, his eyes forced wide by his fear, and tries to walk nonchalantly down the street. It's nowhere near as late as he'd remembered before, and people mingle outside of the bar at one of the corners, a soft thrum coming from the music system inside. He passes it by, furrowing his brow as he tells himself that it's nothing. It must be a fluke; he's sure he's walked this same street before, that it has to be a memory tainted by his psyche in his sleep. As he passes the building, however, he hears a voice. The familiarity of it sends a chill up his spine, as it has so many times in the past, and he glances behind him, sees a crowd of people speaking. One of them sounds like her. He can't make it out, though, and the beating of his heart in his ears reminds him to get home.

He feels like he's on autopilot as he moves down the streets, and he barely remembers moving before he gets to his apartment door, the sound of his keys jingling as he sets one of them into the lock. He struggles with the doorknob for a moment, realizes that he's put the wrong one in and has to switch them out. As he walks in he sheds his coat, and pushes his way forward to his desk. He tries with little success to forget about the street, the girl, the sound of the same voice that have all haunted his dreams for years.


---


He eventually gives in to his fear, and searches up the little bar that he'd passed earlier, looks over their website. There's a western theme to it, the highlight of their menu being something called the "gun-shot." He feels out of touch as he stares at the bright text against a black background, the sensation of being in a dream pervading his senses along with a notion of some kind of irony. He shakes his head a little before he shuts his laptop, and decides after a long moment of idling that he should try to sleep. He lays in his bed, but nothing comes; he can't seem to keep his eyes closed. His mind keeps focusing on the earlier part of the night, and he wonders, perhaps, if it was a vision all this time, that he's ignoring fate out of fear. He glances at the neon red lines of the clock across the room, the time illuminated by the light behind it. Maybe I should do something, he thinks to himself, but he can't remember when the events of his dream were supposedly happening.

He finds himself standing at the window, after a while, looking at the position of the moon in the sky. His dream starts to run through his mind, again, but he doesn't want to go back to that place. To face his death, as if it were always inevitable. He tries to come up with an excuse, with some other option of fixing the situation without directly involving himself.

He give a call to the restaurant in the vain hope of preventing the events of his prophecy, leaves a note with the owner about some stranger who might be at risk. He tries to describe them, remembers as much as he can before the person on the other end of the line dismisses him and hangs up.

He stays up all night, pacing back and forth in his room. He starts to call the bar again, but he chastises himself and sets his phone down, considers turning it off. He pulls up the computer again as he sits in bed, goes to the street cameras that surround the long stretch of roadhe'd passed before. As the night goes on, he feels drowsy, the endless stream of people going in and out eventually becoming dull and uninteresting. By the end of the night, after the bar has closed, there's no one left waiting, the patrons who didn't have a ride being whisked away by yellow cars with bright signs on the top of them. He grimaces as he remembers his purpose, and tries to look for the stranger, for someone who might be out of place, or in danger. He finds none, thankfully, but he keeps the video feed up for the rest of the night. By the time he's given up the sun has risen far into the sky, with no sign of the dream's events occurring in reality. He checks police blotters, blogs, posts, anything that might tell of a terrible fate happening the night prior, but there's nothing. He pulls on a sweater and makes himself some coffee, scrolls through his phone idly for a while until he catches himself falling asleep at the table. When he climbs into bed again, he pulls the covers high, and tries to ease his mind for a bit while he rests.

For once, he has no dreams. He wakes up, confused and concerned, worried that the stranger must have met a terrible fate, that the end of the dream means that it's come true. Still, he finds no news of someone meeting an ill fate the night before, and he obsesses for days over it, checking over and over to see if there's any sort of bad news. A few days pass and he allows himself to relax, and tries to go on as he usually does. The lack of dreams feels strange, though, and he starts to wonder if he'd saved someone from a terrible accident. It's only when he has his next dream does he realize that it must have been a vision. The nightmare is someone new, a different situation, a different kind of danger. He barely gets a wink of sleep as the new horror runs through his mind, crawls its way into his thoughts even when sleep evades him.

[Wolfiedog3]

mark :00
A stolen mind lost in a realm

[osamu]

username: astrafrack
kalon name:
prompt:
okok res where OK OS
they r nuce but they r demon irl. thy were born to like evil kalons that were the rulers of evilville and then they reversed everything so they had a brand new start and they were nice. BUT in their dream everything is undone and they become evil and the dream lasts for like 12 hours and then they wake up and r worried that all that acually happened

[nyabeille]

username: waterlily
kalon name: mercedes
prompt: wip