Character Dream

Out in the fog, a being appeared.

The being was a tall human male with black hair and brown eyes. He wore a green jacket, red shirt, dirty brown cargo pants, and a necklace with a blue gemstone dangled around his neck. He had the appearance of not having shaved in a couple days and he seemed to have formed slight bags under his eyes. In his mouth was a cigarette, which he almost dropped as he walked into the fog.

He had a look of shock for roughly a second before he grinned as he moved onward into the mist. He casually put his hands into his pockets as he noticed a group of beings.

He approached casually and called out to them, "Any of you mind telling me where I happen to be?"

He's talking to Raphael, Kokabiel, and Lost

_{thank you}

_{i am a bit}

there was a long pause in the Lost's statement to Kokabiel.

_shy.

"Yay," said Jonathan flatly. "That kind of protector. The kind who'll break your legs to keep you 'safe'. I used to be like that, but I eventually realized how heartless I was being. 'Course, that's part of the reason I try to stay alone, when I can: no one else to look after. Just me and me alone."

He leaned on the display case of the book, looking at it but not taking anything in. "You know," he said eventually, "our lives are just plain fucked up. We're both being hunted by abominations beyond time and space, surviving by the skin of our teeth. We've got unusual methods of protection — me being in a rebellion, you having a guardian fallen angel. And yet, life goes on. We live, and not just survive."

Jonathan stared up at the ceiling, an intricate pattern of nothing in particular. "Guess that's all we can hope for, at the moment. One of the better situations, at any rate."

To the Lost, Kokabiel said, <as you will.> Then to the smoking newcomer, though he was audible to all, <oh, joy. Another. Is it my perpetually sunny demeanor and radiant aura of loving kindness that has brought so many organics this way, perhaps?> Dropping the tone of oozing sarcasm, Kokabiel said, <you've arrived in some sort of mixed dreamworld thing. I have no clue about the details — I came here to protect my favorite organics, and past that, to amuse myself.>

Zacharias sighed and said, "well, I should confess. Our daughter is taking the brunt of the curse now — and it's gotten especially active lately. Mages are up to something. Not sure what, but something. "They're willing to wait for me and my wife to die of old age, but my daughter? Well, I'm not sure exactly how Kokabiel intends for her to continue the family line, given her current relationship. Then, I was surprised my wife came suggested she wanted to conceive a child in vitro — I honestly can't say if the idea was hers or put there by Kokabiel through means fair or foul. But it wasn't just to keep the family going, not at all. She really did want a child." He smiled. "God, when she gets an idea..."

Jonathan grinned. "Yeah. I hope it goes well for you and your family. Quite frankly, you're probably more important to your world than I am to mine. You're a very specific person with specific qualities. I just worked my ass off, and anyone can do that if they want to.

"Okay, random change of topics. Have any of your ancestors — on the Hosseini side, I mean — had more than one kid? Because if you could start that, it'd make it harder to end that pact thingy that keeps the Eyes and Teeth or whatever separated. Like, if everyone in your family had two kids, in three generations, they'd need to kill..." He paused, his tongue sticking out as he worked some numbers in his head. "...what, eight people? And they're having enough time killing one. Or maybe it just gets transferred to the firstborn or something." He shrugged. "I don't do magic, really.

"Also, how did you break the news to your wife about the whole curse thing? You can't exactly spring it on her at the same time you pop the question." Jonathan got down on one knee and mimed opening a ring box. "Will you marry me?" His voice sped up drastically. "Also you should know that I'm being pursued by horrors from beyond time and space and they want to kill me real bad for something my great-bazillion-grandfather did but I'm being protected by another one who's utterly amoral but anyway if you marry me you'll always be under the threat of death if not much much worse." He put on a winning smile. "Whaddya say?"

"For our sake, I hope that there isn't some God-Child or whatever out for us," Hector said. "That would complicate matters."

Hector took one step forwards before stopping.

"They're really not getting any closer, are they?" he said. "They're fixed points, just hanging there. And the beam of light that I saw earlier—there's no perspective in this place for me to have any way of determining where the origin of the beam was or how far away it might be now. It's like the end of a rainbow—just an optical illusion. And the only reason I know this is because I'm lucid. If I wasn't, I bet that I'd just keep moving forwards until the landscape shifted into something else."

Zacharias leaned against a wall and sighed. "Okay, first, the curse. Usually goes firstborn, but not always. Competence seems to be the big decider. Kokabiel has no clue what's controlling it, but it seems to be smart." He shrugged. "When Kokabiel says something's weird, it's weird." He tapped his chin thoughtfully. "Not sure if it can go 'back up and down' the family tree, though. Kokabiel and our family don't want to find out."

"And my wife? Well, she found out about the curse before she met me. I sort of had to explain what she'd seen. The screaming sword burning with blue flame being carried by the walking corpse and all. Kokabiel can be very unsubtle when it wants. And when it was freeing me from the IRG, it wanted to be unsubtle." He sighed, slouching slightly. "In truth, my dear wife Samira — bless her soul — is not one to remain quiet in the face of injustice. Which means that 'always under the threat of death or worse' was something she was very used to when we met. God, the things they did to her when she was imprisoned..." he looked at Jonathon, and simply said, "she doesn't talk about it much." Looking grimly at nothing in particular, he said, "really, Kokabiel's protection for one extra enemy was probably a net gain for her."

edited 5th Apr '12 5:14:42 PM by KillerClowns

Corey's still following Raphael

"We're on earth after 2012 and it turns out only man survived," Corey popped out behind Raphael and answered the man who appeared out of the fog cheekily. "We're deciding who to cook and eat so the rest of us don't die of hunger."

Meanwhile, Prisha decided he looked around enough and went back to look for Corey to see what he's up to.

edited 5th Apr '12 5:03:07 PM by PsychoFreaX

Jonathan blinked and remained silent for a moment. "You know..." he said eventually, "it is really creepy how many parallels our lives have. I'm not married — yet, at least — but one of my closest allies has also been... well, basically my girlfriend. Who I accidentally saved about two years ago."

He began pacing. "I was younger and stupider then, but still capable. I was infiltrating the fortress of one of Shaurei's thralls. It had been built over four hundred years ago, back when fortresses were still relevant, but had been repurposed for modern times. Big, thick walls, imposing, sitting squarely on the cliff overlooking Roost. Climbed up it and got in. And found her."

He began gesturing to make his point. "Tamara Peterson. Activist against Shaurei. She'd been captured, and I saved her from execution. At first, I wanted nothing to do with her, but she insisted. Said she was capable. And, well, she was. I killed my target, but I might not've gotten out if not for her."

Jonathan stopped pacing and tapped his chin a few times, thinking. He chuckled and said, "Okay, this is unlikely, but humor me. Does your wife have a slightly snarky scientist friend?"

Zacharias shook his head. "Nope," he said. "Closest would be Dr. Rose. A very snarky scientist sorta-kinda-enemy who travels with a psycho midget. Really. I can't make this stuff up." He shook his head in dismay as he realized just how bizarre the last sentence was. "God. I'm too used to this. But.. anyways, me and my wife mostly stick with the humanities department at the University."

"So," he said, "this Tamara. I need to ask, are we talking 'signs and megaphones' activist, 'public hunger strikes' activist, or 'molotov cocktails through windows' activist?"

edited 5th Apr '12 6:31:47 PM by KillerClowns

"Well..." said Jonathan, "she's part of the rebellion, now, so technically she's not an activist any more, but when she was, it was some combination of all three. Outspoken, fiery attitude of a cocktail thrower, but she never actually hurt anyone; that's the signs and slogans part. If she needed to, she could soapbox all day and you just could not get her to shut up. Just if she needed to, though; otherwise, she was fine."

He leaned against a wall, and his eyes grew slightly distant. "Kind of an unsung hero, actually. Barely any normal people know who she is, but she always had a way of getting people into action. And without her..." He shook his head. "I'd be a lot angrier than I am today. Possibly insane. It's hard to overstate just how much of an effect she had on me. It's funny, really, since we were at each other's throats the first few times we met. But we both joined the rebellion, mellowed out, hit it off." He shrugged. "Life's a bit crazy like that."

edited 5th May '12 9:29:19 AM by TeraChimera

He could no longer hear or sense the Lost, but for being such a pseudoscientific world, this dream sure didn't waste time trying to punish him for daring to indulge in a fairly typical, involuntary neurologic activity. At the very least, he could take solace in these hellions not being a figment of his own imagination. If anything, he just wanted to get away from them. Waking up would be... nice. It'd suffice.

So that's just what he concentrated on doing. He closed his eyes, and sure enough, all of the presences had lifted themselves from his radar. To the people there, it would've just been like he... vanished.

But when Raphael opened his eyes again, he was not in his bedroom. He was in that dilapidated hospital. Dust-coated papers, the remains of wheelchairs, chairs from the waiting area, and fallen posters littered the floors. He walked up to a random file folder laying on the floor and opened it, but the handwriting on them looked like Dad's attempts to write in the Latin alphabet. In other words, it was so abysmally bad, Dad sometimes had trouble reading his own chicken scratch and just resorted to writing in his native language.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a shadow and some kind of a glint in a hallway. Instinctively, he followed it, and he sensed a few more people nearby. They even felt different from those kids! He gave a quick, relieved smile and scurried towards them, his lily still in hand, and found them at last. A somewhat young-looking couple- the man was blind, as evidenced by his bandaged eyes and the ornate cane he bore. Both wore fashions that would not look out of place for the Victorian era. The third person was an old, heavily-scarred Middle Eastern woman with a hijab.

However... something emanated from all three of them, especially that woman; trying to sense what she was gave his antennae a painful poke. He stayed in the doorway within view, should he be in less pleasant company, and announced his presence.

"Hello."

Eli's attention had been diverted to wandering around the room, marveling at the various artifacts from other universes. But what caught his eye was a simple, large spiral-bound sketchbook in a cubical display case. The cover was black, and showed a stereotypical photo of charcoal pencils, art pencils, and a kneaded eraser on a wooden tabletop. In the corner of the cover, the word 'Mauve' had been painted on in a shade that could be described as just that.

It seized him without warning.

Eli's hand flared white, and he slammed his fist into the case, shattering the glass.

The light, whatever it was, had evidently protected his hand; it was perfectly unscathed. By the time anyone looked over at the racket, the glow around Eli's hand had just begun to fade away.

edited 6th Apr '12 3:39:35 PM by CrystalGlacia

Friedrich is leaning against the wall, having a nice, relaxing smoke while idly listening to Zacharias and Jonathan with his eyes closed.

Okay.

Eli is not normal.

Wilhelm puts the harmonica away and scoops up the trilobite. He wants to get away from Eli without making it look too obvious or rude.

The photographs.

He tries to lift them from the wall, but they're stuck. He pries his fingers underneath, to no avail.

Who the hell thought putting his parents' pictures in a museum was a good idea, anyway? Wilhelm begins dumping his coat pockets, looking for something that could help him.

edited 6th Apr '12 3:03:42 PM by Calloway

Samira glanced over at the odd, effete, and nervous-looking newcomer. God, she thought, you picked a hell of a time to show up. But she nodded and said, "oh, hello! Uh... what brings you here?" It wasn't exactly the most welcoming place, after all. Appropriately, she suspected.

Whatever Zacharias had been intended to say to Jonathon had been lost when Eli had smashed the glass. And remained unharmed by the results. Oh. Right. The magic he'd warned about earlier. He said, "er... was that really necessary? And I feel the need to ask: Did you want to get something... or destroy something?"

He looked back at Zacharias. "Oh, ah, sorry. Little distracted, as you can imagine. Funny how crazy people sometimes balance each other out like that." More to himself, he added, "except when they turn into a spiraling maelstrom of self-destruction, of course. I think that's the more popular option."

"If by 'like an optical illusion' you mean 'should not be possible' I will agree with that point. Some of them, however, got considerably closer than mere points so I'm hesitant to dismiss their not being at a fixed not-effectively-infinite location." Nara observed.

She turned to Qrlil. "How are the implants now?" Nara was not familiar with the mannerisms and behavior of Qrlil's species, unable to recognize anything but the most blatant symptoms of pain or exhaustion.

"They are better," Qrlil replied, "thank you. Assuming that they were what was causing my headache, that is."

She stood up, thinking over that 'thank you' for a moment. Was it reflex, or was she beginning to have an easier time seeing Nara as a person?

Blinking, she dismissed the thoughts, looking out into the fog again. "What should we do now?" she asked both of the others. "If we cannot really reach the lights, should we simply turn back?" She glanced at them thoughtfully. "Or could it be that we are 'supposed' to head in their direction anyway?"

The sphere of fog contracted on itself as the lights flickered and died. The fog began to peel back, revealing a second orb beneath its surface, perfectly spherical and seemingly made of multicolored coral. Lines of light ran veinlike across its surface, constantly shifting.

The lights on its surface flickered for a few moments as it probed the immediate area, then dimmed again. It lifted into the air and, with no visible means of propulsion or support, slowly drifted through the streets.

It's headed for the current location of Kokabiel and the Lost, but I'm not sure where that is.

edited 6th Apr '12 4:22:33 PM by nrjxll

"What? Whoa," Corey looked curiously to the point where Raphael had been.

Next Prisha found him and returned through the fog. "Corey anything not boring happen where you were?"

"Prisha you should have seen it!" Corey smiled enthusiastically. "Turns out that guy with an insect in his brain was really an illusion created by some alien who wants to lead us all here and suck our blood."

"And that's really a good thing huh," Prisha looked around seeing a few strange figures around him. Maybe they're the aliens?

edited 6th Apr '12 5:13:56 PM by PsychoFreaX

Kokabiel turned to the new organics, and said to Corey, <your grasp of reality appears to be somewhat less than secure, even by the standards of both organics and this place.> To Prisha, who seemed somewhat more connected to reality, it said, <Kokabiel, Angel of Entropy. Care to introduce yourself, or shall I select degrading nicknames for you instead?>

To the Lost, it quietly added, <no offense meant.>

Near a purple-and-black tetrahedron about the size of a Manhattan city block.

Zacharias walked over to Wilhelm, who was still searching his coat pockets. "Uh," he said, quietly, "are you looking for anything I might have on me? Or... can I help you with something?"

edited 6th Apr '12 5:40:11 PM by KillerClowns

Raphael smiled and came a little closer. "Just wanted to get away from some rude middle schoolers and a talking vulture."

Just as suddenly as the urge to destroy seized him, Eli was wearing his characteristic grin again. "The curators stole my sketchbook." Without turning, he yanked it out of the case through the hole and held it up next to his head. "That's all," he whispered.

When he turned back to the shattered case, his back to Jonathan and Zacharias, a narrative crisscrossed his mind like traffic at rush hour.

What did he just do?! He was fucked they were going to report him for madness the doctors were going to kill him his brain was going to shatter no art divorce Peter no shit shit shit shit shit

Jonathan chuckled. "Yeah. I'm bad crazy, Tamara's good crazy, and it all sorts itself out in the end." He briefly became downcast. "But I was really close to the spiral of self-destruction, believe me."

He looked down at Eli. "But you... You're crazy-crazy. This is a dream, remember? That might be your sketchbook, but it's not your real sketchbook. Just a..." He twiddled his fingers, searching for the right word. "...representation, I guess." That's right, right? "It doesn't matter if you take it out or leave it. You'll have it back when you wake up."

Sheesh, I'm not intellectual, and even I know that. So why doesn't he?

"Prisha will do," He answered. "So angels go to sleep and dream too?"

Prisha knew his guess seemed a little sudden. But the way Corey pulled him into this dream and how the environment doesn't seemed too normal for his imagination, there seemed to be something strange about this dream.

But would the others know they're in a dream? Corey did. But he's in no way the same.

edited 6th Apr '12 6:42:34 PM by PsychoFreaX

"I need to get this frame off the wall and put it back in the parlor."

Friedrich opens his eyes and watches Wilhelm with concern, his cigarette dangerously close to falling on the floor.

"So do you have a blade or something? It seems to be stuck." Wilhelm kneels and looks at the assortment of objects. Small music boxes, pretty rocks he picked and forgot about, clockwork parts, tiny books, small tools... it didn't seem possible that all these things could fit in his coat, but Wilhelm managed it. "I know I had a pocket knife somewhere, but I don't remeber which one and I want the big one."

He reaches in his last pocket and takes out a very dented alarm clock and blinks. "Fuck, I thought I got rid of this piece of shit."

Zacharias sighed, resisting the urge to send his palm to his face. "As Jonathon pointed out already, the objects you see before you are unmoved in the physical world. They're copies." He frowned, and thought. He bit his tongue before mentioning that the irrational actions of both Eli and Wilhelm led him to a single obvious conclusion: these were very personal things to them. Associated with very strong emotions. He wondered what there was that would earn the same reaction from himself. The family curse had taught him not to cling too tightly to physical things, but there was probably something — aside from, of course, his wife and daughter.

He walked over to Friedrich, motioning surreptitiously to Jonathon for him to follow, and whispered to Friedrich, "I... er, does your medical training including... psychological conditions? At least a bit? I'm thinking that could be very important very soon, and... well, my wife would argue otherwise, but while I do my best wehn I must, I am not exactly a trained therapist..."

Kokabiel considered. <I am tempted to say something about dead gods dreaming or some such, but I don't feel like attempting to intimidate at present. So... no, not really. I'm just following Samira and Zacharias Hosseini.> Turning back to the dead tetrahedron, it added, <though this place has proven quite amusing on its own.>

"Talking vulture, huh?" Samira shook her head. "I see you've met Kokabiel. I imagine it was as intolerable as ever."

Interesting... and scary, Prisha thought. So if the shared dream theory was true. This big bird might be able to follow people into their very mind to access their dreams. But how much more of their mind is questionable. Either that or they're another weirdo dreaming, who deluded themselves into thinking they're an angel. Which Prisha thought would be more likely, knowing how often people delude themselves in reality.

"So those two you've just mentioned. How long have they been in bed for?" Prisha asked wanting to know more.

edited 6th Apr '12 7:15:19 PM by PsychoFreaX