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Wouldn't have posted it as a suggestion if I didn't hope people would use it.
But that's beside the point. The point is that the world is a dream that God was having. But he woke up in 1834. Luckily, some clued-in people saw it coming, and managed to set up a backup system using the touched. You know, people with a little of the blood divine. Usually not straight from the creator; we're talking people whose great-great-etc. grandman was raped by a big old swan that happened to be Zeus, or some schoolteacher in Iceland who has no idea that her grandma once cheated on her grandpa with a certain charming one-eyed traveller.
Anyway, these folk dream the world, in shifts. As long as one of em's asleep at any given moment, everything's groovy, the dirtball keeps turning. But starting last year, someone's been grabbing them. We were down to two dozen at that point, which is already emergency numbers. Now, I don't know. Communications are shot to hell, I haven't heard from HQ in a month, and I'm gutshot. So. This is Claire. Say hi, Claire. Aww, don't be like that. I ain't gonna die. She's... a little frazzled, since her parents went down when the longmen hit the farming commune in Arizona. Place was supposed to be safe. And now her favorite "uncle" is gutshot. Fantastic.
Anyway. Her shift is 1 to 7 Eastern Standard. She can sleep more than that, but make sure she doesn't sleep less. I'm not sure if anyone else is still doubling her shift. Um. No alcohol, no sleeping pills; you don't dream right when you're on those. If you absolutely gotta, you can use some of these. Two pills, max. Don't be surprised if the walls melt a little.
Ok. You got this? Tell me you got this.