Cerejeira (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
murchada) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
letsplayamurder2025-08-04 08:35 pm
murchada) wrote in letsplayamurder2025-08-04 08:35 pm
Entry tags:
SLEEPOVER!
On Monday, people will be receiving a note. Either delivered in person by Cerejeira, slid under their door, or... brought via Winion Mail (thanks buddies), everyone gets the same one.
Tonight, at the Bar
Snacks and Drinks Provided
Let's all just chill and have fun, okay?
🌸
True to the invitation, the new and improved Quark's Bar on the third floor has been transformed into a sleepover space. Of course, the long couches and throw pillows already made it a good space for lounging anyway, there are more pillows and some clearly DIY blankets. Near every spot of open floor has something soft and comfy placed down.
Some drinks and snacks are already set out, naturally, plus the replicator is right there. Quark has been helping out with the catering, of course.
...There's a little more decoration than before, too. Some of the flowers from that hallway have been moved and put in the main bar area, but there's some simple paper flowers and paper star decorations around, too, just to liven the place up a little.
( text version )
Slumber Party InvitationTonight, at the Bar
Snacks and Drinks Provided
Let's all just chill and have fun, okay?
🌸
True to the invitation, the new and improved Quark's Bar on the third floor has been transformed into a sleepover space. Of course, the long couches and throw pillows already made it a good space for lounging anyway, there are more pillows and some clearly DIY blankets. Near every spot of open floor has something soft and comfy placed down.
Some drinks and snacks are already set out, naturally, plus the replicator is right there. Quark has been helping out with the catering, of course.
...There's a little more decoration than before, too. Some of the flowers from that hallway have been moved and put in the main bar area, but there's some simple paper flowers and paper star decorations around, too, just to liven the place up a little.
Miss Sandmare, Bring Me a Dream
[Luna being in the same room is actually perfect. It allows her to see who desperately needs a courtesy call in real time. And given that he recently asked her to help with some night terrors, it should come as no shock that at some point, a snoring pigtailed boy would start tossing and turning on his makeshift mat, clenching a cover in a death grip like a lifeline.]
no subject
cw for trauma and small animal cruelty implication
[It starts as it always does.
Luna will find herself in a forest in the dead of night. Sometime in the middle of Autumn, if the leaves on the trees vacillating a warm orange and golden brown color is anything to go by. The crackle of campfire will draw her attention to a small camp set-up.
There's two individuals standing there. On the sidelines, a stocky older man wearing a bandanna and glasses, though oddly enough every time Luna turns her head away and back she'll find a random panda there instead. For some reason.
The other individual is one she'll easily recognize. Ranma, garbed in a white gi, practicing some katas, each kick and punch in the air choreographed in a set pattern.
All seems well. Normal, even. Yet there's the overbearing, oppressive feeling of dread looming overhead. That this is merely that calm before the encroaching storm, the respite before something terrible happens.
Then, the man/panda speaks. It's garbled and muffled, akin to talking underwater, that Luna won't be able to parse what he's saying. Ranma? Whatever he said halts the pigtailed boy's katas to a standstill and makes him stand there dead-eyed with a look of primal, abject terror in eyes that scarcely show even in the face of previous dangers.
Immediately after, the grounds begins to quake. Tremors start to shake the earth beaming red light into the sky, fissures begin to crack and tear asunder, right beneath Ranma's feet. The other man appears unconcerned, apathetic to the situation. And despite being close to taking a plunge, Ranma makes no attempt to leap to safety. How can he, the third typically forgotten factor of the fight-or-flight response has left him freezing up.
The scene was uncannily close to the previous trials' conclusions, except instead of skeletal hands or a centaur reaching out to pull him in, it's claws. Emaciated, feline claws. Tens, no, hundreds of paws ranging from tabby to calico colored grab and claw his legs not letting go no matter what. Cacophonic screeches cry out from below, caterwauls howling into the night in tandem to the young fighter's screams as they begin to drag him into the pit.
Back into cat hell.]
no subject
Naturally, watching him cast as herald to nightmares does not improve her opinion! Luna takes to the air immediately, hovering as the earth starts to crack below her. Cats? Is this why he's so afraid of the Professor? ]
Ranma!
[ She reaches out with her magic to try and pull him up with her - a more difficult proposition with all the cat claws going at him, but all the same! ]
cw for blood
[Suffering from the paroxysms of blind fear leaving him paralyzed on the spot, the sonorous regal voice calling out snaps him out it enough to shoot his eyes up. His perception's foggy and his headspace's discombobulated but barely does he recognize...]
Luna...?
[His voice was quiet and weak, a complete dichotomy to the loud and effervescent boy she's come to know. It's a fleeting moment, and he's right back to going still as the dead feeling claws tearing into his clothes and ripping into his flesh like he's a human scratchpost. Luna's pull needs some extra strength put into it, but eventually, she'll rip Ranma from the cat pit's clutches.
From her bird eye view of the pit, she'll see dozens, hundreds of glowing green and blue slitted-pupiled eyes watching them, watching Ranma, with hungry and acrimony. Ranma hangs there slack in Luna's magic, trembling like he's in the Antarctic and jittering under his breath. His pants legs were fillets and his legs were marked with bloody striations. Dreams shouldn't allow for their owners to feel pain, but the brain's a powerful muscle in that if they believe it enough it'll come true in their heads. And right now, Ranma's legs feel like they're exsanguinating.
He's not really acknowledging the pony's presence, only staring wall-eyed at his legs and the hellmouth containing his bête noire below, blood and tears raining down below.]
no subject
[ He's still caught up in it. It's hard to crane down to see his face while she is carrying him, but Luna can still tell that much. ]
Ranma, it is only a nightmare! None of this is real!
cw for small breathing difficulty
[Somewhere through the miasma of fear, of staring down at the cruel reminder, does Luna's voice reach him. Verbal olive branch extended, Ranma tilts his head upwards, whether it to confirm the pony's existence or avoid having to stare at the cat pit longer or a combination of both is up for debate.
His harrowed, labored breathing starts to return to a regular, healthy pace. Phantom pain of old and "fresh wounds" ebb away, and when Ranma dares to look down, his pants were no longer in the sorry tatters they were before. The pit was shrinking smaller and smaller, instead of swallowing him whole like every other time.
Color returns to the boy's face. Particularly, red on his cheeks from, of all things, embarrassment.]
R-Right, right. Should've known that, ha ha...
[Chuckling under his breath, unsteady and tense still. He asked her to help with- with this, and he still couldn't keep calm and not freak out. So, so lame...]
no subject
[ Especially, frankly, for people who are not her! Luna continues flying away; she isn't going to get tired here in the same fashion, and she'd like some distance from that whole...thing. ]
Are you alright? What on earth was that?
cw for cruelty to animals, cruelty to a child, just. genma saotome being a really bad dad
[He lamely nods in reluctant acceptance. Hard to argue against the literal princess of the night. Learning to lucid dream would save him of having to put up with nightmares.
And by all means, get him away from that hellhole! Good riddance fuzzy bastards. Luna ascends farther away with Ranma in tow, none of the cats or the panda-man making any move to give chase. Only the yowls of dozens starved, peeved off kitties that echo into the night until they've gotten far, far away.
Ranma doesn't give an immediate answer, for understandable reasons. Even if the pony can't see his face, the way his head hangs and inclines suggests mulling over. In the end, he swallows a glob of spit and pride back down his throat. Pointless to try and save face now, when she's in his head. And he reached out to her first for her assistance. She's got every right to know what in the name of Celestia she witnessed.]
'Training' for this 'unbeatable technique' Pop found in this old manual: The Neko-ken.
[Starting with a droned yet acrid note, air quoted words laden with sour loathing and bitterness that make lemons taste sweeter.]
Accordin' to that dusty book, it's supposed to allow the trainee to 'fight with the mind and grace of a cat'. The 'training' [The dichotomy of a word one would commonly associate with Ranma, it sounds odd how he spat it out in this context, like it was a potent toxin that'd corrode him.] goes like this:
Dig a pit or cellar deep, deep down, so deep it's pitch black. Fill the hole with feral, starved cats. The instructor ties salted meats and foods to the trainee's body, and hurls them in. Cats smell the food, go into a frenzy, and...
[The pigtailed teen trails off, not needing to say more there. Luna's a smart mare, she can fill in the blank for herself. Or, well, anyone with a basic understanding of animals and common sense can hazard a guess.]