In a City that Sleeps

In New York City, a city that apparently never sleeps, a young man by the name of Samuel Grayson found himself laying in bed, staring up at the ceiling. Sleep was near to him now and it made him wonder why people called this the city that never slept. It was bustling with people, that’s for sure, but all that activity it was tiring and surely it had to sleep at some point. He sure did and no city would every rightly work under the strain of not getting rest. He decided this was a weird train of thought to have before drifting off and he further decided to push it aside as sleep finally took him.

For this young hero, one who was still in between names…either Blackjack or Odd or something else, sleep was an interesting thing, His power, one that allowed him to open portals in the space around him, exhausted him making sleep come all the easier. However, he never rested well. He would forget his dreams, but his dreams were never all that pleasant. Restless and terrible things happened in his dreams. Things that were dark and unseen, moving about in a shadowy void he could never pierce through.

In his dreams this dark force felt all too real, always lingering somewhere nearby and watched him. His dreams weren’t filled with these shadowy things, but they were there, just out of sight and in his dreams he knew that, but only in his dreams. When he awoke each day he would do so exhausted still from the night and without memory of those dreams. The memories of them would come back each night when he fell back into his sleep and found himself in that state, though unable to actually do anything about them. He wouldn’t call these nightmares, though, these dreams all the same and those things that haunted them were also just things, things he couldn’t rightly explain.

Tonight, as he finally fell into slumber, his dreams brought him to an event earlier in the day. Melody was off fighting a villain at bank, while he was in Central Park, tracking down another villain in leagues with the bank robber, both of which were empowered with strange abilities. In the moment now he was running towards the villain, though it was all happening in slow motion. At least, the villain he was chasing was moving in slow motion. He, himself, was moving at a normal pace and only needed to walk to keep up with the villain. It was strange, but he did, but he didn’t stop to catch him. He just stared at the fellow, only now realizing the features of the man had caught earlier.

He looked scared, nervous even. Maybe even a little remorseful? Perhaps he regretted what he did, or perhaps he just regretted getting caught. It was impossible to say, really. This all felt different though, this was lucid and he was aware of everything going on and…something felt wrong. Another presence, something else here besides that shadowy presence that was always there. Something or someone was here with him in the park, something else that was…dreaming?

Slowly, he looked around as the villain continued to move in slow motion, running down the path, away from Sam. He cleared his throat and tried to address this new person. “H-hello? Is there someone there?”

It was true, the man deep within his own dream was not alone, the rules of his own night's rest were betrayed as he became acutely aware of his presence within. A girl stood before him. Her teal and orange hair waving in the wind, watching the slow motion sprint of the villain before them. Holding out a hand they attempted to speed up his presence to such a velocity as to cause the villain to fly forward and crash against a wall in comedic fashion only a dream could produce, of course this was if Samuel Grayson’s mind permitted such a perception.

The girls presence from a perceptive standpoint felt more real and grounded in reality, in solid matter than anything else in the surrounding area. It was hard to pinpoint the feeling but whereas most senses in dreams are hazy : this being felt clear.

Lucy Dream stood before him with a casual demeanor, taking a bite of a chocolate chip cookie, talking with her mouth full as she spoke. “ Troubled sleeper? You’re not well adjusted to your dreams tonight. I can feel the instability.” Her voice through cookies and a long tired stretch felt rather casual, the intentions of this entity were unclear, there was no hint of a positive or negative motive , just talk.

At this point in his dream, he wasn’t sure what was happening and what was just fabrication. So rarely did one ever really have control of their own dream, outside of those lucid few, and Sam was no exception. He had no control, so he watched the scene play out which was…orchestrated by a girl? A girl he had never seen before. He didn’t usual dream about random women, usually it was just the one girl and that was not something he needed to be thinking of and or conjuring into this situation. It was…surreal to say the least, to see someone else manipulate his dream with such ease.

This still felt wrong, though. It was wrong beyond the sense of words could describe and it wasn’t just the other’s presence here, but there was another thought dwelling somewhere in his head. Whispers that something like this shouldn’t be happening, that it couldn’t be happening, not because it wasn’t possible, but because something didn’t want it to be. That was a weird thought to have, even by dream standards and he tried to shake that sinking feeling away.

Instead, he tried his best to give the girl named Lucy Dream…a bit on the nose, but he shouldn’t talk. As she spoke with a full mouth he couldn’t help but smile lightly. “N-no? I mean, yes? Tonight I guess I am.” He blinked at her, not really sure if this was a dream or if this was actually happening and he had to mentally stop himself from trying to poke her to find out. “Uh, sorry. What is this? What’s happening? Is…this feels and looks like a dream or…is this…is reliving the past? Or an alternate reality? Honestly, I’ve heard all kinds of wild stuff from other heroes and I really don’t get what’s going on here.” He confessed, his voice touch by a soft laugh, more so out of confusion than out of humor.

He gave another cursory glance around, “Is this your doing? Or someone else’s and we’re just both here and gotta deal with it together? And if it is your doing, what…uh, what do you want? I am hero, so if you need help, it’s my job to assist!” He offered again, this time looking back at her with a soft smile. If this was a dream, at the very least he was glad that even his dream self could still uphold his heroic ideals and that he didn’t dream of other, non-heroic deeds.