Adam Milligan (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
halfwinchester) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
entrancelogs2014-02-27 12:40 am
halfwinchester) wrote in entrancelogs2014-02-27 12:40 am
Entry tags:
time will be the judge of all here
Who: Adam Milligan (halfwinchester) and Michael (quis_ut_deus).
Where: Starting outside, followed by a none-too-frightening awakening in Michael's room.
When: Backdated to around the 23rd-ish.
Rating: R for mass amounts of vessel-flavored trauma, maybe?
Summary: Stressing out about a bunch of mass murders and passing out cold? Just a day in the life of someone still suffering the lingering effects of the Cage. Michael comes along to investigate what's going on inside his vessel's mind. Dreamwalking ensues.
The Story:
[In the days following the killings, things seem to go very quiet. It's not just in Adam's head; the danger passes and the mansion itself takes a big gulp of fresh air. One... three... five days later, nothing's happened. Nothing will happen if the people like Sam and Dean know who the monster is and can deal with him.
For Adam, finding his equilibrium again is a matter of keeping his head down and enjoying the security his room offers him. People are coming back to life and the clinic no longer needs a Hell-traumatized automaton helping out. He can take a gulp of fresh air himself.
Easier said than done, however.
The ghoul attack had lasted hours at the most, but the terror and the tension from that time is exactly the same as the kind Tom had inflicted--but not just for hours, for days. Adam had survived this round, but not without bad memories clawing to the surface, visceral memories that make him remember the smell of his old house and the hair-raising sensation of being hunted. The remembering gets worse before it gets better. He slides into that pit in his mind that won't let him go, and the usual tricks that help to distract him don't work.
The worst comes when he makes the mistake of thinking he can force himself to forget. Adam doesn't know what he's thinking, just that he gets the idea to go for a walk, as if that will chase the cobwebs from his head. He takes himself back to that spot in the forest where he dimly recalls crawling out of a grave and into Wonderland. The earth isn't disturbed anymore, of course, but he half-expects it to be.
His head aches. He ignores it. A stunted tree turns into a person, the snow underneath it to blood. He ignores that, too.
The rest is just blackness, a darkness that sucks him down until he can't remember anything at all.]
halfwinchester) and Michael (quis_ut_deus).Where: Starting outside, followed by a none-too-frightening awakening in Michael's room.
When: Backdated to around the 23rd-ish.
Rating: R for mass amounts of vessel-flavored trauma, maybe?
Summary: Stressing out about a bunch of mass murders and passing out cold? Just a day in the life of someone still suffering the lingering effects of the Cage. Michael comes along to investigate what's going on inside his vessel's mind. Dreamwalking ensues.
The Story:
[In the days following the killings, things seem to go very quiet. It's not just in Adam's head; the danger passes and the mansion itself takes a big gulp of fresh air. One... three... five days later, nothing's happened. Nothing will happen if the people like Sam and Dean know who the monster is and can deal with him.
For Adam, finding his equilibrium again is a matter of keeping his head down and enjoying the security his room offers him. People are coming back to life and the clinic no longer needs a Hell-traumatized automaton helping out. He can take a gulp of fresh air himself.
Easier said than done, however.
The ghoul attack had lasted hours at the most, but the terror and the tension from that time is exactly the same as the kind Tom had inflicted--but not just for hours, for days. Adam had survived this round, but not without bad memories clawing to the surface, visceral memories that make him remember the smell of his old house and the hair-raising sensation of being hunted. The remembering gets worse before it gets better. He slides into that pit in his mind that won't let him go, and the usual tricks that help to distract him don't work.
The worst comes when he makes the mistake of thinking he can force himself to forget. Adam doesn't know what he's thinking, just that he gets the idea to go for a walk, as if that will chase the cobwebs from his head. He takes himself back to that spot in the forest where he dimly recalls crawling out of a grave and into Wonderland. The earth isn't disturbed anymore, of course, but he half-expects it to be.
His head aches. He ignores it. A stunted tree turns into a person, the snow underneath it to blood. He ignores that, too.
The rest is just blackness, a darkness that sucks him down until he can't remember anything at all.]
no subject
For once, Adam's acting smart. If he hadn't answered Michael's question, the archangel might have given up on trying to converse with him and gone digging for answers instead. That's not the polite way to do things, of course, but Michael's never let something as small as etiquette hold him back from getting a job done.]
We don't dream.
[Not him and not any other angel, and that should be all the explanation Adam ever needs. Of course he has no idea what it's like to be unable to escape his own mind. That's a uniquely human experience. (You can thank his dad for that one, right after you thank him for the whole concept of human vessels. Great ideas all around, right?)]
I wouldn't quite call it sleeping. You passed out, and now you're -
[Michael makes a gesture with his hands that suggests something messy, but also manages to be dismissive and a little insulting. His standard reply, really.]
Let's just say Gabriel missed a few spots.
no subject
Passed out...
[The words aren't for Michael, they're for himself as he looks around with new eyes at the corridor licked in red and orange-tinted flame, frozen in place by Michael's power. Where...? What had he been doing again? This isn't the first time his memory's gotten murky, and he's less surprised than he should be to realize he's gone and done it again, had an episode.
Adam's unspeakably tired all of a sudden, and now that he's standing he feels it acutely. Without a thought to the archangel, he sits down right there on the floor, partly out of relief and partly from a burnout that goes deeper than simply needing to catch a nap.]
Where'd you come from?
[It takes him a moment or two to even think to ask why the chief dickbag himself has come crawling into Adam's rat's nest of a head.]