nexus_crossings | Enter a dream

Enter a dream

Daydreams are a small link to the dreamworld, but they aren't dreams. Freddy can use daydreams to sense the dreamworld close by and, occasionally, he receives information and perceptions from them. Generally speaking, though, he can't use daydreams to affect reality around him. Awake, the world is no more transmutable to him, than it is to anyone else.

So, he's a bit taken aback, when reality all around him shifts abruptly, while he's wide awake. He finds himself standing in the middle of a street...of sorts. He's holding a flat knife made entirely of metal, just about the length of his hand, that tapers down to a very sharp point. Looking around, he slouches a bit, his lips quirking in a sardonic smile.

"Well, all righty, then! HEY!" he shouts to get attention. "Anyone want to tell me where I am and what's going on? I was kinda busy."

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"It's called the Nexus."

Grace is behind him when she first replies; the shouting certainly got her attention. However, when she notices the knife he's holding, she does take a wary step back.

"..People just end up here. I don't know how, but that's what happened with me"

Freddy spins around to face her, as she begins talking, and notices her step back. He gives a grin, twirling the blade expertly.

"It's a wood-carving knife," he explains, with wry humor, slipping the blade into the tool belt around his waist. "I was etching a pattern into a table leg. The Nexus, huh? So, what sort of people? Special people? Ordinary people? For funsies?"

Grace shrugs, more at ease now that the knife's away.

"All sorts; it's a good mix of both I guess. As for 'funsies', I don't think anyone could say"

Freddy frowns, becoming more serious.

"No one knows how they ended up here or why?" he asks, a bit incredulously. "You said this is a nexus. A nexus of what? What does that mean?"

He does like science fiction, so he knows vaguely what the word nexus means. He's not sure how it applies to a place, though.

"I, um - I don't know."

Because really, when she'd first arrived, the last thing on her mind was what the name of the place meant.

"It just happens - people just arrive here, some of them can go home, some can't. I've been told it's like a middle point between different worlds and realities, but I'm still trying to process that bit."

Freddy's eyes go wide. He's used to weird. He is weird, but he's been royally trumped in that area, if the girl is telling the truth.

"Different realities...okay, fine. So, what do people usually do, when they get here? Settle down and get jobs? Who's in charge?"

"That's what I've gathered so far, yeah. There's apartments, and businesses and everything. As for who's in charge, I don't think anyone is."

This sounds more far-fetched out loud than she thought it would; even more so since she's not one hundred percent sure of what she's saying herself.

What was it she was asked when she first arrived..?

"Do you know how you got here?"

"Nope," Freddy says decisively, giving a grin and a shrug.

He hopes that's the usual answer. This place connects realities and he suspects that might include dream ones. In that case, his daydreaming probably helped things along. Freddy isn't about to give that information out to strangers, though.

"Well, I guess I better introduce myself. My name's Freddy Krueger. What's yours?"

ooc: Feel free to have her react anyway you like! :D I'm fine with people knowing about the evil version of him from movies or other means. lol

ooc: She loves horror movies, so there's gonna be a bit of a reaction, haha

There's a beat after Freddy introduces himself that makes Grace smile right back.

"I'm Grace - sorry, is your name really Freddy Krueger..? As in 'Nightmare on Elm Street'?"

Freddy frowns. He lives only a couple of blocks from Elm Street, in a very similar neighborhood. He tries to make his foreboding look like confusion and keeps smiling.

"Yeah, that's my name. What's a 'Nightmare on Elm Street?'"

Oh. This is awkward - odd, and awkward.

"It's a famous horror movie" she replies, trying to play it off as just a weird coincidence. "There's a character in it with your name - I just thought that was kind of cool"

Because weirdness aside, she does love that movie. And this guy's not in a stripey jumper, so she's assuming she's safe.

"That is cool. I love horror movies!" Freddy says, carefully burying away the misgivings he's feeling. "I don't think we have that one, where I'm from. What's it about?"

"Teenagers get tormented by the aforementioned Mr Krueger while they sleep. He kills them in their dreams. It has a heinous amount of sequels, but the first one is great."

And now she wants to watch it. Damn.

Freddy decides he's just not going to tell people where he's from. And keep the dream thing under wraps. He's shaking though. She said movies, but...he's real. The dream killer could be, too.

"He kills them in dreams? Well, that's certainly different. I'll have to keep an eye out for that. I promise I'm not him, though. I got better things to do than that!"

He chuckles, trying to keep it light.

"You don't really look the type, I've got to be honest"

Despite his attempt to keep things relaxed, Grace does notice he seems nervous. Perhaps she shouldn't have said anything - after all he just got here, and she just told him her has the same name as a serial killer.

Good job, Miss Ford. Good job.

"Anyway, um - did you need anything? I'm not sure how much help I can be, I haven't been here long myself, but I'll give it a go"

"Oh? What does movie Freddy look like?" he asks, hoping there enough differences that he can ignore the fact the guy has a connection to dreams.

Freddy considers that. He can probably get home in his dreams...but not necessarily. In either case, he'll need a room for the night.

"What kind of money is used around here. I'll need a place to sleep tonight."

"Busy with what?" Damian's noticed the knife. The man's grip on it says he's probably used it a lot. That could mean a number of things actually, but the boy's not that worried.

He's also up above him, to the right a little, perched on a street lamp.

It takes Freddy a moment to find the source of the voice. He does blink a bit in astonishment, seeing a boy clinging to a street lamp. Freddy's almost amused, but mostly annoyed.

"With work, kid. It's that thing adults do. In my case, I was building a table."

"With a knife?" He shrugs, it must have been one of those decorative ones. "And you don't have to talk down to me. I know adults work. Most have jobs they find boring and not really worth while." That's why some of them turn to crime in his city, for something to do other than the boring nine to five.

"Okay, sorry," Freddy says with a dry chuckle. "I don't know what's sadder, that you're right or that you've already learned that. Yeah, with a knife. I was carving decorations into a leg."

"Any child that hasn't learned that by now has parents that lie to them and are overly protected." Again it's stated as a fact as he drops from his perch, looking the man over to see if there are wood chips. Because carving wood would cause them to be stuck to his clothes.

Overly cautious? probably.

"Or maybe they have parents who like their jobs," Freddy countered. "Those people do exist, you know. I like my job."

Fortunately, Freddy is telling the truth. Anyone looking will find plenty of wood chips, spots of drying glue, and spots where the wood stain didn't quite come out of his work clothes.

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Enter a dream

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/guess who accidentally marked this as 'read' in her inbox ;;; so sorry!

That's okay :D

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