[identity profile] nohatmatt.livejournal.com posting in [community profile] crossing_lostrp
Who: Isabel
When: Day 28, late night
Where: One of the tents outside the bunker
Invited: Anyone
Status: Incomplete

Unable to find a bedroom in the bunker which didn't look claimed, Isabel had occupied a sparsely-equipped tent outside. A small tear in the fabric which let an unpleasant breeze in had succumbed to her talents and knitted itself back together under the touch of her fingertips. Brief concentration allowed her to warm the damp and chill out of the sleeping bag, and she snuggled into it contentedly, drifting off to sleep with the all the tiredness she'd claimed to feel. It was still early, but it had been a busy day.


Sleep swallowed her, and it was many hours before she came to awareness, realising almost simultaneously that she wasn't actually awake. She floated in what she immediately recognised as her own mind, dreaming a dream with no content. As with her other powers, what she was doing came to her instinctively.

Gently she felt the dreams around her, the sleeping minds which generated them. Some of them she recognised. At the edges of her senses she heard minds still awake, recognising most of them. Agitation and concern predominated, but she caught only flashes from them. Dreams were her domain here, yet it was clear that something had happened. She reached further, found a cluster of dreamers by themselves. Where they were she had no idea, but she could reach out and touch their dreams with ease, watching them as if viewing a film through clouded glass. The images were disturbing: people fighting and struggling, drugs and beatings and ropes. Dirt and damp and insects.

Alarmed, Isabel pushed harder, trying to get through the barrier around one person's dreams, to see more clearly, to enter them fully, but she lacked the handle she needed to overcome the mind's natural defences, lacked the key to that particular lock, and could only beat on it from the outside. Frustrated, she gathered herself to try harder, but this time she encountered another presence, a strong one, which swatted her thrust with contemptuous ease and shattered her awareness.

A heartbeat later she sat up, the fabric of her tent blasted away by the force of that counterstrike, leaving her gasping and shivering in the middle of a bare patch of ground as the trees rustled from the aftershock.

OOC: And I defy anybody even remotely psychic not to notice that!

[Sam]

Date: 2007-04-22 04:00 pm (UTC)
From: [identity profile] starborn-scribe.livejournal.com
Sam writhed in his sleep. Death, blood, and fire surrounded him. The island was steeped in it, punctuated only by a few bright points. Those gleaming stars -- people close by, others further away -- simultaneously attracted and repelled him. No, they called to *him.* The pitch swarm around his core yearned to consume them.

One of the bright points shone stronger. Sam focused on it. He cheered and screamed a warning when the darkness gathered and lashed out.

"JESS!"* Sam jolted awake, panting and sweating in an unfamiliar bed.

Something leaped down from above him. "Sammy!" Dean cried. Lights flipped on, making Sam shield his eyes. "Sam, you all right? There was an earthquake or somethin'. And who's Jess?"

As Sam peered around through squinted eyes the events of the day rushed back to him. "Jess. Jessica," Sam murmured. An image tried to coalesce in his mind's eye, then evaporated. "I don't know. I'm all right, I guess."

Sam heard more than saw Dean pull his jeans over his boxers. "Good. Now get dressed. Perimeter check, just in case."

Sam hauled himself out of bed, donning clothes and weapons automatically. Dean waited for him by the door. When Sam met his eyes Dean shuddered. "What?"

"You're doing that black eye thing," Dean shrugged.

Ammesia or no, Sam knew his brother was unnerved. Worse, Sam didn't know how to make it stop. Shoving fear in the back of his mind, Sam shrugged as well. "Let's go."

* Isabel looks a bit like Sam's late fiancee Jessica.

Date: 2007-04-26 02:29 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] fikgirl.livejournal.com
Ok, I know why I've got nothing: Is Isabel sensing someone at the bunker or is it something/someone else entirely?

July 2007

S M T W T F S
1 234567
891011121314
15161718192021
22232425262728
293031    

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags
Page generated Jul. 8th, 2025 11:49 pm
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios