poly_chromatic | ⚘ [ fringe event #8] || bad dreams (backdated to saturday)

[Though the City may resemble cities in actual universes, this is an odd moment when the City' has become reality. Or at least, you imagine that the right turn you just took has led you to Harvard Square.

Tourists, students and every sort of pedestrian wander the square. Conversing, shopping, laughing, as if it were just a normal day in Boston.

But all it takes is a scream to signal a chain of horrific events.

A woman, a mother of two children, grabs for her face as pieces of flesh begin melting, skin stretching like wet string through her fingers. A man beside her echoes her scream and his jaw extends past his neck before ripping off his face. One by one, people are getting infected.

But it's not all the same.

A couple at a table, both of them sharing a coke, grab at their faces as their eyes -- their noses -- their mouths -- start filling with skin. The man reaches for his crotch, and through their muffled screams, you can hear the sheer horror of their situation. Luckily, they both suffocate quickly.

It's only the start of it.

And there, in the center of the square, atop an infected woman, is Olivia Dunham. In one hand, she holds a bread knife as she attempts to trach the suffocating woman. Unorthodox methods, but in an emergency situation..

The truth is that it's all a dream. An illusion. Olivia doesn't realize that--- and perhaps neither does your character. ]

(ooc: Backdated to Saturday's dream curse. So so sorry for the delay.)

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[Raymond isn't sure how he's ended up in this part of the City. He's never been far out of Los Angeles in his life, so he has no idea that this is part of the curse for the day, that this is in fact a part of Boston and has no earthly business being anywhere else. If only the disorientation was his only concern here.

As soon as the screaming starts — and everything else that comes with it — he only wastes a second being utterly horrified before taking action. Not that there's much more action he can take than drawing his gun and striking down anyone who gets too close, but if that's all he can do before he finds a way back out, then that's what he's going to do.]

[ Once again, Olivia finds herself powerless to help, but it's even worse this time. Not only this woman, but everyone around her, is succumbing to a horrific death, as if the nightmare center of her mind has decided to stage its ultimate revolt. But David Robert Jones is dead, isn't he? ZFT isn't the central concern anymore, and more importantly, wasn't she just in the City?

And aren't you supposed to forget once you leave?

Those questions can wait as Olivia steels herself in despite of the chaos, jumping to her feet as she looks around in the hopes that she might locate a culprit. That she might be helpful in some sort of capacity. And then, she spies Raymond, and seeing his gun drawn, she draws her own. ]

Get out of here!

[Honestly, Raymond has no idea whether the familiar face is a relief or even more reason to be on edge.

Either way, he isn't putting his gun away, and his only movement is to get closer to her.]

Show me where the damn exit is and I'll be on my way!

[ She's never had any qualms with throwing herself in harm's away, but odd isn't it, how Olivia isn't infected despite being in the thick of it?

There's no time to answer that question though. Olivia rushes toward Raymond, lowering her gun and gesturing to the street where he came from. ]

There. Go straight, take a right. Keep running. If you stay here, you'll get infected.

Infected with what? [He hasn't yet noticed that oddity, probably because he's more focused on the what the hell of everything else that's going on.]

[ She grabs onto his shoulder, and means to shove him forward. He needs to get out of here. ]

That doesn't matter right now. Right now, you need to leave.

[Ordinarily, this kind of situation would be enough to compel Raymond to do as he's told. But maybe it's the fact of who's doing the telling that's having the exact opposite effect on him.]

Why don't you tell me what the fuck is going on here first?

That depends on whether we're still in the City or in my world.

[ What can she do if she stays? Walter Bishop isn't around to save the day, and even then, what he could do for these people who are dying like flies? And the more she considers it, the more that Olivia realizes that this can't be real. Logically, there are too many improbabilities - even within the context of her absurd life - for this to be more than a nightmare.

Right?

Except right now, she doesn't have time for uncertainty. ]

But I'm going to guess that this is a curse.

[ She yanks him hard, breaking into a run with every intention of pulling Raymond along with her. ]

Unless you want to die, follow me.

[He's just as ready to believe that this is another curse, but if she knows about it — is this really something from her world? Is that usually something that happens in this City? Either way, even he concedes that there's no time to stand around questioning it. He keeps his gun drawn as he runs with her and makes no further protest.]

[ The screams continue behind them but Olivia presses on even if every fiber of herself is yelling at her to turn around and do something. Maybe, if she can at least ensure Raymond's safety...

They head toward Mount Auburn street, away from the square, but the street only seems to stretch on interminably, as if something or someone was messing with the physics of the place. The building you saw a second ago reappears again in the distance.

This can't be real.

Olivia sucks in a sharp breath, stopping abruptly in the middle of the street. She glances behind her and realizes that despite the distortion of space, they seem to have escaped the square of infected civilians.

But then, a window shatters. Olivia raises her arms to shield herself from the spray of glass from a building immediately to the right of them. There's a thump as a wailing man hits the asphalt below. Jumping from a two-story building hasn't earned him the immediate death he intended. Instead, he lies there screaming on the ground, his skeleton cracking bone by bone as it disintegrates.

Olivia steps back from the scene, a look of distress pulling at her features. ]

[Raymond honestly has to wonder if this isn't some kind of dream — nightmare, really — as the street stretches on, the full possibility of exactly what's going on not yet occurring to him. Still, the burn in his side when he finally catches his breath feels real enough...

As does the sudden rain of glass, and the man that comes falling with it. His immediate reaction is to step back as Olivia does, first in horror and then disgust — just what the fuck is going on?

But he has to put that aside, at least as long as they're not yet in the clear. He spares one more glance at Olivia before approaching the man with his gun.]

He's dead.

[ She tries to spare Raymond the trouble of examining the boneless body himself--it's a sight no one should endure, and one that's unfortunately common to Olivia's line of work. Olivia's expression is despondent, anguished even, as she looks straight at the other. ]

This must be a curse, and if not that, then it has to be a dream.

It'd have to be your dream, because I've never seen anything like this before.

[Which brings up an entirely new host of questions, really. He lowers his gun again, though he's still not putting it away entirely, and he turns back to Olivia.]

But you have.

[ She doesn't say anything at first, standing there, wondering if they ought to move, if not to escape this dream (if there is an exit), then as an excuse to ignore answering Raymond's implicit question. Her jaw clenches and Olivia turns to look down the street. ]

I said I work for the FBI.

The FBI?

[Yes, because that explains everything.]

I don't know about your world, but where I'm from, the FBI doesn't deal with shit like that. [He punctuates the word by jabbing his gun back at the boneless heap behind them.]

Telling you anything more would be committing a felony.

[ Watching him, she places a hand against her holstered gun. How does someone, alien to the daily horror of the Fringe division, react to something like this? ]

We come from different worlds, Raymond. You can't expect things to be the same. Even if they are familiar.

⚘ [ fringe event #8] || bad dreams (backdated to saturday) | action

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