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Post by jarahamee on Nov 6, 2020 1:26:20 GMT -6
Group 1-2:
Jedi, Kira, Ari, Casmir, Moana, Malgrim Sjira,Hau, Edge: 17 Crystals. 2 Exotic Fruit, 1 Beef Jerky, 1 Box of Hard Tack, 1 Mysterious potion (Use me on your enemies), 1 Paper, 1 Woodcutting Axe, 1 Grappling hook, 1 BURNT STICK, 1 Bright Lantern, 3 Bright Torchs(2+ Perception), 1 Mysterious Powder, 2 Uncursed Gems, Rusted Dagger (+4 to hit, 1d4 + 4 damage), Ghostly Pirate Cutlass (+5 to hit, 1d6 + 5 damage), Pirate Dagger (+4 to hit, 1d6 + 4 damage)
Group 1-2 map: Privately Provided.
Malgrim, Edge and Sjira moved into the void, and felt the pain and anxiety of the world they had left fading away, like a bad dream. The ghosts find themselves hurdling through the gate, before dropping down into an endless and gravity-less space between the strange reality of this place, and the more pleasant true dreams that awaited their sleeping minds.
The transition was peaceful, and the obliteration of the knowledge they had been exposed to was merciful compared to what they had endured. They felt a well-rested sense of accomplishment as they returned to sleep. Perhaps they might remember a feeling, a sense of familiarity, but nothing more.
Jedi seizes Kira and runs through the gate and into the void beyond, Ari follows him with no hesitation.
As they hurdle through the endless starscape of the void, they find that it doesn’t feel like falling. Are they floating? Flying? They detected the odd feeling of moving downwards into an infinite space without any sense of time. It was pleasant and peaceful, and their pain, exhaustion and soreness all faded from their memory as if it never existed.
The trio drifted towards their real dreams, all different, duller and less vibrant than what they had been a part of.
Finally, a stern voice spoke to them;
“You did well, but you did not win. Do you wish to remember what you experienced?”
Group 3:
Aaron; 18 Crystals, 1 Enchanted Demon-Slaying Broadsword (+4 to attack rolls, 2d6+4 damage),
Group 3 Map: Privately Provided.
Simon heard the patient voice consider his question for a moment.
“They will not remember tonight, but will wake safely in their beds. I doubt most would wish to remember such things.”
Aaron slashed the great hound across her throat. His demon-slaying sword sang true once more, and he felt the strength of his arm carry it through her bone, her muscle and sinew, and the great arteries as she stood dumbly, devouring her prey.
Her hot blood poured out onto his body instantaneously, and her head dropped like it was too heavy, before her body collapsed from hindquarters forward in a massive heap, rolling towards the gate. Whatever he had done, it would be the end of her. She was free now.
Aaron felt himself hesitate a moment, and in his hesitation, the hulking body of the huge armored undead surged forward and he felt the whoosh of a near-miss. It might be missing an arm, but it was still powerful and deadly. However, by then it was too late, he was already passing through the gate and beyond.
And not a moment too soon; the last thing he saw was the horrifying face of the Slave King. The monster had rushed to stop the final victims trapped here and end them. It stared into his eyes as it leapt at him, its mad expression a mixture of pride and anger, great wave-bladed sword held high as if to strike, but Aaron was already beyond its grasp. He was safe here.
And then Aaron was gone. His body fell through the door, and hurled down into a void, as if no floor existed beyond the gate.
He could feel himself turning in the air, and felt like he fell so long in the soft darkness he lost any sense of direction, orientation, or even the sense of falling. It was peaceful. His pain, fear and exhaustion melted away from his body, and he felt the familiar sensation of restful sleep fill his limbs.
“So much courage and sacrifice. That is why you succeeded. You did very well. Do you want to remember what happened tonight?”
The voice was gentle, the question honest.
You may all make your final posts if you like. All characters would return to the place where they had been at rest, and return to their dreams.
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Post by jarahamee on Nov 6, 2020 1:50:32 GMT -6
From the place at the table he considered his desk, a body jolted awake. He found his neck was stiff and uncomfortable, his jaw sore from falling asleep on a small pile of paperwork and the ancient laptop he had been loaned by work. His hands, many times broken, still clutched a pen. He was unhappy to note that he had drooled a little on the papers, but sleeping with the right side of his face down tended to do that. Why had he not remembered?
The magic lantern he had set some time ago was dark and cold, its light long spent, and it left the apartment a dark void. His many occult items, wards of protection, glowed slightly in the darkness, the skull which kept watch over the door manifesting its watchful eyes.
The Beast’s dead face stared into his soul from its altar, as if in judgement of his deeds.
You hunted tonight.
It commented, detached. It could sense his anxiety, but why feel anxious? Hunts were good.
Did I hunt? He wondered, thinking back to whatever he dreamed of, but nothing but impressions and shadows emerged. Faces, fragmented. Sara, Aaron.. Another man he did not recognize… Others, blurred shapes. Prey, the joy of the hunt, battle, death, grief, endless pain, domination. Being forced to serve a master he did not respect. It turned his stomach with the knife-blade of anxiety. He had…been dreaming of killing again, of hunting. The experience was not uncommon, now that he had been vigilant about his tendencies. His mind never forgot what he had done, even if he did his best to suppress his nature. What would Director Lonan think if he knew?
Cassius rose from his desk, unable to shake the jolt of adrenaline that his unpleasant dreams created, and pushed the chair in. This was what he got for working late. There was still more he needed to look into, but it would have to wait until tomorrow.
With a final shudder, he turned away and stalked into the bedroom to curl up on his bed of furs and sleep. Vik had been waiting there. She was always patient about his work, and he could use dreaming of something more… palatable.
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Post by beastly on Nov 6, 2020 8:05:17 GMT -6
Simon breathed a sigh of relief. Not one of those 'you die in the dream you die in real life' deals. Ok. Good. Thank God. Gods.
"Thanks...Happy Halloween."
He gently melted back into his own mundane dreams.
---------------------------- Simon woke the next morning, and peeled himself off the floor of his enclosure. He felt like shit, but in the expected werewolf-y type way, and not a 'sliced with a sword' type way.
Sliced with a sword! The memories hit him like a truck. That had happened, huh? His friends- they were fine. The voice had said so. He took the key from his neck and unlocked the door, then sat on his bed. Woof. There was a lot to unpack there.
He rubbed the back of his neck, still processing, and grabbed his phone. He scrolled a bit, looking at pictures of last night's festivites, then forced himself up. Regardless of Halloween nightmare hell, he had places to be. Things to do. Guys to call by their real actual names, holy shit. He should probably check on them, just to be safe. Get a fruit basket-
"I should have made a doctor/apple joke, damn...!"
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Post by tsukikoko on Nov 6, 2020 9:14:45 GMT -6
Wakefulness came as a sharp intake of breath and the nauseating sensation of falling.
Sara hit the living room floor facedown, her chin and chest colliding painfully with the ground and her tail clattering into the coffee table. Must have fallen asleep on the settee waiting for Aaron to come home again. "Oww..." The shifter murmured, voice muffled by the floor and thick with the grogginess of sleep even despite her sudden awakening.
But it was as she sat up, one hand pushing up through her hair, that the emotions of a fading nightmare came rushing back: a fierce, animalistic protectiveness; bloodlust; a gleeful thrill of the chase; burning agony; then, right at the end, there was a soft relief - the concept of a smile and gentle gratitude. Yet, past those emotions came a faint, echoing recollection of Aaron's voice and the pain, the unbearable, agonising sadness and confliction surrounding him, though she couldn't remember the reason why.
In a flurry of movement that smacked her knee against the coffee table hard enough to bruise, have her sucking air through her teeth and near doubling over with the sudden shot of pain, Sara scrambled to her feet, calling out to the darkness of their shared house. "Aaron?" No response. For a moment, Sara forgot that he might still be at work, remembering only that when she had last felt this instinctive prickling on the back of her neck, there had been a hole in the side of her house and the agent's blood upon the moon-dappled grass. "AARON?!" The shifter's voice echoed back at her, the only sound in otherwise deadening silence; there was no creak of floorboards, or rustle of clothing, perhaps the groan of another sleepy voice, to imply anyone else in the house. Even without that, she simply knew no-one else was in the house.
The redhead staggered through the house, limping on her injured leg, her knee pulsing with a persistent, worsening ache. She should get ice on it, really, but all she could think of was reaching her phone. When her quivering hand reached the device, she tried to steady the hyperventilation of her breathing. There was no Viktoria this time. There wasn't. 'Breathe. Breathe.' She thought frantically to herself. This isn't the same, you're overreacting. He's just not home, just text him, it's fine. It's fine.
But even as she sent a simple 'hey, you coming home soon? x', trying not to let her paranoid panic come through in the text message, a persistent, warning siren in the back of the shifter's head said something really wasn't fine. She just couldn't remember or pinpoint what. A part of her wanted to transform, be gifted the improved scent capabilities, hearing and low-light vision of a nocturnal predator and investigate her house. But she fought the urge, not wanting to indulge what was surely paranoia. Sara closed her eyes, exhaling slowly.
A scarred face, crumbling to ash.
Crumpling as if she'd been punched in the gut, the redhead had to throw a trembling hand against the wall to steady herself. There was a heat in her eyes and a wetness to her cheeks. Why was she crying? It- it was just a nightmare, right? Yet there was a ghost of a touch against her face. An aching hole within her chest, as though something had been torn out of her. He was dead.
He was dead.
Why was she so sure of that? Surely she couldn't...
Yet the knowledge, the knowing, was there. Clawing away inside her. 'Caz,' she thought desperately, trying not to picture again that flaking away of his features, the silent scream of terror she knew she'd made in response. A hand moved to her lips as bile rose. She was worried she was going to be sick. Again Sara's fingers gripped her phone, though it near slipped from her grasp in the attempt. Through the blurriness in her vision, because she just couldn't seem to stop crying, she typed out another message, this time over the Hunter's secret communications. She wanted, desperately, to call instead; but if there was a chance this was all in her head, just further paranoia building off her fear of Aaron's safety and the way he'd previously been taken from her, the shifter didn't want to risk exposing Casmir at an inopportune time - given the danger of his occupation. What she wouldn't give to have easier access to his Safehouse right now. 'Caz, Caz please message me. I need to know you're ok. Please.' Whether it was an appropriate message or not, she didn't care. Sara just needed to know.
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Post by luscen on Nov 6, 2020 10:03:36 GMT -6
Casmir hadn't been sure when he woke up. He hadn't even really been sure when he'd fallen asleep, even- He'd been feeling cramped up in the Safe House, too wired to sit still, and so he'd gone out on an evening walk around the city, to clear his head. He hadn't even bothered to properly disguise himself, instead relying on a simple black newsboy cap and an eyepatch to hide his more noteworthy features. It was cold, that night, and drizzly, and the mood had, for some reason, made the Hunter feel more tired than he normally would be.
Not that that would be difficult- his dreams had been... unpleasant, since February. A failed hunt, and the loss of an innocent child had made it difficult for Casmir to sleep soundly. So when he checked into a simple motel and found himself being dragged under, he simply assumed it was his body no longer being able to keep up with him, which meant a few blissful hours of unconsciousness, his mind too tired to torment him.
Or so he thought. It was hazy, but when Casmir woke, he had fleeting notions of dark shapes, glowing eyes and a cruel grin, the flash of a knife, and falling. Then... "Sara," the Hunter muttered. Had he dreamed of her, again?
The Hunter frowned, running his hand through his hair. He grabbed a cigarette, lighting it, then took hold of his rune bag. He rustled through it, pulling out the first one his fingers happened upon... only to find it blank. 'That's odd...' the Hunter mused with a frown. He never kept his rune stones blank- there was no telling when he'd be in need of one, after all, and it had become a habit for him to carve fresh runes into the blank stones once he'd had a moment to spare. So why, then, was this one used and not re-carved?
Casmir grunted, then took out his chisel and began to apply the rune to the blank stone. It wasn't until he was finished that he realized he hadn't checked the other runes to try and figure out which one he needed. Instead, he held up the stone between his finger and thumb, a perfectly scripted Othala rune looking back at him. But why this rune? What had-?
Sara, her face just as he remembered it, albeit paler than normal and her eyes closed, as if asleep. She was bound in chains of flesh and sinew, the fibers wrapped tightly around her limbs and neck, holding her here like a prisoner.
Casmir felt the stone slip from his fingers as a mental image of the nightmarish scene flashed across his vision. "S-Sara?" he uttered, looking down at the dropped rune stone.
Just then, there was a buzz of a message coming from his phone. He reached over to the chair where he'd thrown his coat, grabbing his phone and clicking it on. It was Sara, having contacted him through his BBS line:
'Caz, Caz please message me. I need to know you're ok. Please.'
Casmir frowned, taking the cigarette from his mouth and tapping some of the ashes onto the nearby tray. His eyes darted to them, an uncomfortable sensation prickling in the back of his brain at the sight of them. Unsure of where those feelings came from, however, the Hunter put them out of his mind for the moment, and texted back to Sara.
'I'm fine. Went for walk. You alright?'
He sent the message, then put his phone away and scrubbed his face with his palm. "So much for a good night's sleep..." he grunted, looking out the window at the full moon, beyond.
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Post by okami1reeka333 on Nov 6, 2020 10:19:29 GMT -6
[Jedidiah is freeee and wakes up]
Jedidiah:
"Oh my God, Kira, we are free. You're safe. " he sighed. Hell, they are both safe. . . Glancing behind him, he saw Ari. . which gave him relief. "Thank God you made it too. " if only Edge, Hau and Sjira. . from what hes heard the others call him made it as well. . . The bitter guilt of surviving such a horror fest. . Though pain. . . fear. . it seemed to melt away in the directionless void. the world slowly growing less vibrant like being lulled into a dream.
“You did well, but you did not win. Do you wish to remember what you experienced?” A stern voice called to them.
"I-" wait. . . win? . . he felt bitter that it was some sort of contest. . . survived was a closer notion. . . he felt horrible for those who died. . . they were toys to whoever thrusted them into that hellscape. . .Mom did warn weaker beings will always be viewed as lesser to those whom believe themselves more powerful, or are more powerful. .
He sighed. "Yes. . . I would like to remember. Contest or not, there were some good people in there. " he replied."If everyone is alright whom were trapped in there. . . then in my eyes that is enough of a 'win' for me. " he smiled. He gently let Kira go, patting her head. Whatever the 'prize' was, he did not want it. Nothing was worth giving away the lives of others.
------------------------------------------------------------- He woke up in a start. . . on the bathroom floor, his back against the wall of the tub. . . he groaned, having landed hard when that happened, he thinks. . . He popped his joints and moved to get up before remembering quiet alot. . . of good memories. from recently? there was Edge! and Hau, and this green haired guy- Sjira? and Kira! . . . they had an adventure together. . . but were scared? It did not make sense to him. . .
Hopefully they are alright. He moved towards the sink and turned it on, using the cold rushing water to rinse his face off. . he needed to make sense of what happened just now.
He then heard a whine? he turned the sink off and turned to see Bluebell peeking his head through the door. . . then he noticed the faint shivering. . "Awh, Blue, What happened? its ok. . . . " he assured, he dried his hands off before carefully going towards the blue pupper. . . petting his head before picking him up gently within his arm like a puppy. . . holding the shaking being close and petting him. . .scratching his ears were the puppy seemed to like it the most.
"There, there, your safe. . .its ok. . .your safe, your alright. " he assured. . . he using his outer arm to open the doors more, he started to head towards the kitchen. . .he has no idea what time it is.
"Here, lets go get you a scoop of ice cream and a puppy cookie. . . that will make it better, ya? " he cooed, continuing to comfort the poor puppy.
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Post by Vaitris on Nov 6, 2020 10:59:06 GMT -6
Hau’s eyes shot open and the still unfamiliar sight of stone walls in his room sent him spiraling back into the nightmare. That monster, its blade, the pain, the terror. In a spasm of fear he tried to escape, lurching backward and tumbling over the side of the bed in a small shower of ice. The bed sheets crackled as he snatched at them, having frosted over at some time during the night, but they did nothing to break his fall.
The impact woke him completely but he could still feel the horror of his impending death, his heart pounding, his breath gasping in and out. He curled up where he'd fallen, buried his head in his arms, and willed his body to settle. The memories of the dream were starting to fade and he didn’t make any effort to stop them. He was eager to purge them, but even then he wasn’t going back to sleep. Though he didn’t want to be awake either. Hau didn’t drink often, and he wasn’t sure his new roommates did at all, but he hoped there might be something in the kitchen that would help.
Gathering himself up, he crept out of his room. Just outside of it he caught the sound of running water coming from Jed’s. He remembered the big man being in the labyrinth, though what had become of him after Hau had…? The kitsune shook his head. Nothing good, probably. These dreams seemed to serve no other purpose than to inflict torment and false hope. He paused, considered for a long moment, then returned to his room. Stripping off his clothes, he transformed and nosed his way back out through the cracked door.
Cautiously and with ears folded back, he slipped into Jed’s room, following the sound of the tap. It felt awkward to be here, a violation of Jed’s privacy, but Hau couldn’t bring himself to care very much. The dream lingered, was dying, but it wasn’t done with him yet. He stuck his head through the bathroom door, spotted the doctor leaning over the sink, looking tired and stressed and very much like a man who’d just awoken from a terrible nightmare. Hau gave a quiet whimper, not wanting to scare the poor giant.
"Awh, Blue, What happened? its ok. . . . " He didn’t object to being picked up, even leaned into the big man as he scratched behind the kitsune’s ears. He’d probably be mortified by this in the morning, but for now it was comforting and calming and a sigh eased out of him.
"Here, lets go get you a scoop of ice cream and a puppy cookie. . . that will make it better, ya?" If he could he would have smiled, that sounded divine right now. Jed was too good to him. He gave the man a thankful little lick and let himself be carried to the kitchen.
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Post by indeath on Nov 6, 2020 14:24:29 GMT -6
Grim woke up from his sleep, the sheets slightly twisted and damp. He immediately felt every part of himself especially his favorite, all there and accounted for. He had the strangest feeling of being dead but here he was on the futon and very much alive. He breathed a long sigh of relief. He had vague recollections of other people that disappeared before he could grasp them. He felt a sense of loss like treasure he’d found but couldn’t keep.
A loud knock on his door but for once he didn’t feel like running. He swung open the door and enveloped his landlady in a hug. She pushed him quickly away with disgust on her face.
“If you think that’s gonna make me forget ya bills ya got another thing coming ya bleeding mooch!”
Grim didn’t care, he grinned widely at her. What a great day to be alive. Then he quickly shut the door on her face. He didn’t have a dime to give her. What did she expect?
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Post by NightshadeVII on Nov 6, 2020 17:44:19 GMT -6
Fragments of images and quick bursts of echoing sounds faded in and out of the Darai’s consciousness, too blurry to connect or make sense of, and just too far away to grasp. A stone wall- or was it a ceiling?- flashed briefly before his eyes, only to be replaced with darkness and the faint sound of singing without the words meaning anything. Splotches of colour that might have been faces fell into the dark, a brief image of a tree, distorted and a flash of gold. All remnants of some strange dream no doubt, bringing with them a strange, unplaceable sense of unease. There was a vague memory of intense pain centered in his back, immobilization, and something even worse, but it all felt so distant, giving Edge no chance to properly dechiper the information at all.
Gasping, Edge awoke with a start, his head spinning, a shudder leaving his body. His heart was pounding in his chest, like it normally did after a particularly vivid nightmare, yet he couldn’t remember what might have caused it. Beside him, Faolan lay, just as wonderful as always, sleeping or not. The sight of the blonde, safe and sound, brought the Darai an immense amount of relief, yet he wasn’t sure why. He always enjoyed waking up next to Faolan, but his thoughts seemed to have a strange focus they didn’t normally have. Maybe because of that nightmare he didn’t remember. There was a brief, soft rustle of feathers as Edge’s wing stretched out beside him. The limb itself as healthy and strong as ever, the feathers just as well looked after as usual. It was still there. Why would he even be worried about that? He knew his wing was there, it wasn’t as if he’d lost it in his sleep after all. Strange. Experimentally, he flicked the wing, satisfied to find that it felt just like it normally did.
It really seemed like everything was alright. Of course it was. He couldn’t understand why he was doubting that, after all, he was waking up in a cozy apartment, next to the person he loved, and hopefully had a nice, relaxing day to look forward to. So why was his nervous system so fired up?Why had he felt so uneasy, if not downright terrified when he woke up? A sigh pushed past his lips, as Edge ran a hand through his hair. There were some things he’d never understand.
Unconsciously, he found himself scooting closer to Faolan, and as his arms wrapped around the blonde, a sense of calm filled his body and a smile touched his lips. His heartbeat slowed down, and the unease in his mind began to fade, like snow melting in the sunlight. For a moment, the Darai’s forehead came to rest against Faolan as he just listened to the other’s breathing, steady and wonderful as it was. This felt right. So right. The world itself could wait a little longer, right now, he didn’t need anything more than this; the closeness, Faolan’s warmth, the morning silence. As sunlight snuck under the curtains, it was as if time slowed down, the world around them, in no hurry to move on, even if it only applied to their little apartment, or even just this room. He felt so lucky to have this, a moment of peace. Carefully, Edge leaned over the blonde just slightly to place a soft kiss on his boyfriend’s cheek. “Good morning, Aiarih...”, he purred.
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Post by Pearl Dragon on Nov 6, 2020 19:29:31 GMT -6
Their journey into the bright door felt like a weightless falling, to which Kira grasped Jedidiah and pulled herself tight to him at first in terror. Then, after a brief moment, she began to feel that fear and terror melt away. The light was penetrating, but refreshing in a way. She opened her eyes, looked out into it all around them and felt her elevated heart rate begin to plummet to a more normal pace. The pressure bunched in every muscle of her body seemed to relax, a soothing relief that overtook her. She hadn't been injured during the entire ordeal, but she realized she had still been in pain from the constant tension that her body was under and stress her mind and emotions had dealt with. It was like a cool bath washing away so much dirt...so much grime. She heard a voice, and at its question, she shook her head almost automatically. The other's voices seemed close but distant, and she could hear Jedidiah saying they were free. They were safe.
Eventually she closed her eyes again, no longer pressing herself desperately to Jedidiah, but instead leaning almost sleepily even as he let her go. She felt at peace, knowing it was all over, and all she wanted was to sleep. Her mind was already swirling into the rambling incoherence of healthy, normal dreams. The surreal, vivid world she left behind was already fading, breaking apart and melting away into distant confusion.
When she felt herself begin to grow aware once more, Kira roused. She was so deeply asleep, she didn't even remember where she was. Although, the first thing she noticed was the jab of several points digging uncomfortably into her body. She blinked her eyes open, feeling drowsy but surprisingly rested despite whatever was underneath of her. Branches snapped as Kira pushed herself slowly upright, taking in her surroundings with bleary confusion. She was on top of a pile of sticks...she remembered those. She'd.....fallen asleep? Rather suddenly, she remembered that as well. They were for Jedidiah, and she recalled feeling rather horrible before as well. Headache and dizzy, but that was all gone now.
As she stood, something caught her eye in the pile before her. Moonlight shimmered in the low light of the night, reflecting off of something in the branches. Bending, Kira reached for it and was surprised to touch cold metal. It was......what was it? Not a stick, of course. She lifted it, looking it over. The sword rested in her hands, smaller than when she'd last seen it in memories that no longer existed. It's shine was dulled by an unknown amount of age, but the ornate dragon engraved on it stood out to her, intriguing. Kira ran a hand across it, feeling a vague but persistent sense of familiarity. It brought her comfort...although she couldn't explain why. Or where it'd come from. Had it been there all along? Holding it to her herself, Kira looked around. She should head back, it had gotten late. She didn't know how long she'd been asleep, but Zavijah would be worried. Slowly, as if still in a dream, Kira turned with the sword and headed back towards her home. When she arrived, any questions on the sword were met with a blank, sleepy stare. She had no answer, but the sword soothed her regardless. She felt like its presence was friendly, cheery. Like an old friend.
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Post by kilnarak on Nov 6, 2020 21:11:44 GMT -6
Ari fell screaming into the portal, his back burning where the slime-creature had struck him. But the light soothed him to silence, felt more like floating or gliding the further down he fell. He was aware vaguely of the giant man and the small furred creature falling nearby. But then they were gone too, and the light faded to softer and duller tones, the warm blackness behind his eyes. A voice sounded in his head, a harsh monotone, and he flinched away from it, from the thoughts it brought with it.
No. I don't want to remember. I choose to forget. He didn't speak, but his thoughts seemed to be heard. The voice faded as the light had, and for a short while his mind was empty before he slipped into the normal space of a fitful slumber.
Ari woke tangled in his bedding, the sheets wrapped tight in his grip torn where his claws had dug into them. For a moment a vision of the city beneath the earth played within his head, but it was fading and had the feel of a more mundane nightmare than anything supernatural. Bits and pieces clung - the weight of something with hard flat edges in his palm, abandoned alleyways and rats in the walls, something chasing him. He couldn't remember what. He shook himself, his grip flexing in the bedding, then releasing as he untangled himself and moved to glance at the clock by his bed. Harsh blue-white digital numbers in the dark of his room. After midnight, nearing dawn. He could watch the sun rise if he wanted. He wasn't sure he did.
Ari fidgeted with his torn sheets, then tried to smooth them as best he could as he got out of bed and padded barefoot down the hall. He eased his way out into the living room, then settled on the couch with a heavy throw blanket. It took him a moment to find the remote, then he turned on the tv and flipped through channels to distract himself, the volume turned down low. Mostly paid-programming at this hour, but he finally found an old black and white movie. It wasn't the sort of thing he normally liked, but just now it was a comfort. He watched it until he dozed off again into a thankfully dreamless nap.
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Post by Salandis on Nov 6, 2020 21:19:12 GMT -6
No, no! They couldn’t all escape now! She was so close, but her last remaining prey wriggled out of her grasp and beyond the gates where she could not follow. Moana howled, a bubbling watery scream of frustration, and pursued him into the void, throwing her corrupted, broken body into the darkness in desperate search of her prey.
~*~
Moana awoke. Her memory vivid on what had happened, torment all, and she knew why. Somewhere, somewhen, a creature of her kind needed aid. Beyond that, though, she recalled every moment of agonising torment because finally – finally! - she understood.
When she first slumbered in Wathais she had chosen a tasteful public park with a river motif, slumbering gently in the waters. Now that she was employed by Mal she rested, when she had to, in one of the many watery spaces in club R.E.M. Awaking in to darkness had never bothered her before, but now it brought a chill. She poured herself into form and walked into the topside bar, closed and empty at this hour. Yawning a mouth that showed impossibly large teeth, she took a selection from behind the bar. Shrugging into a coat, she scribbled a note for the opening staff, holding it to the camera so security would see it too. When opening rolled around someone would make sure it got to the boss, and that mattered a bunch, but not as much as what she was doing now.
She walked out the door into the night, and moments later was in a cab, heading out into the night.
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Post by MP on Nov 14, 2020 21:51:46 GMT -6
In the haze of the dream, in the numbing calm it brought, other thoughts came drifting back, as small and clear as stars through a cloudbank: acceptance in place of panic; duty in place of loss. If he didn't accept the memory, no one might ever hear of what had happened tonight. No one would know except the next year's victims, thrown in again without warning or help. This was his responsibility, he remembered. To bring a record back to the WDSA, so the anomaly could be tracked and understood.
Dimly, he thought of Sara. He knew this would stay with him. But in the calm, it wasn't the sword he thought of. He was remembering the wild-eyed hound with its human wail. Remembering the raptor, bright-eyed with mischief and high spirits, rushing down the hall. That, if he accepted this memory now, they could go back to the old Halloween, and she might never go in again.
"I'll remember," he said.
Then the fog faded. Then fatigue came creeping back - exhaustion even through his dream. Aaron jerked upright, only just catching himself as he began to tip out of his chair. He'd been resting his eyes. No, you weren't. He'd meant to head home after he finished the reports. After you killed her.
Aaron flinched so badly that the pen clattered out of his hand. When had he picked that up? It had been a sword. A sword that he'd - he'd used to -
The tremble started in his hands. He rubbed at his eyes, but it didn't change the images. The red-maned head, tumbling in a spray of blood. Koji's burnished eyes. Aaron lurched up from his desk, glancing desperately at his phone. A text. That was something real - something normal, right?
hey, you coming home soon? x
He looked at her name. The timestamp. Tried to focus on the answer instead of the lump in his throat. She sounded fine. Like nothing had happened. But his fingers shook. He had to retype it twice.
Checking on Koji for the night. Then heading home.
The painting had lied - it must have been a lie. But he also had to check. Had to make sure. Aaron set the reports aside, each one back in its folder, the folders back in the drawer for safekeeping. But for once, the neatness didn't help. Aaron started down the hall at a brisk pace. Brisk except for the unevenness in his step, and the hammering in his chest. He had to check on Koji before he left - but first he had to stop, duck into a side room, and breathe through the tremors.
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