As Hiro pulls his arms through the midnight black cloak, he does not disappear as one might suspect, but there is a ripple of downy magic that surrounds him. When he shifts to the front an interposes himself between the girls and the selkie, one of the pelt-clad girls moves to bump into him, but stumbles and falls into thin air instead. The other selkie turn in unison, some of them drawing their blades.
The phantom scoffs, "I know my place, fighting his kind over the murky dregs of society. I'm not surrendering an inch of this Nightmare. These spirits need me. I need them. You can disparage the scavengers all you'd like, or preach at length about salvation and the great beyond, but all we know is here." She begins to walk forward, slowly, still carrying the glass blade.
"So Spirit, were you trapped here, or did you volunteer your services?"
When she reaches the top, Fleur tries to find somewhere she can look over and see whats happening, try to decipher the good from the bad and see if she can work out any way to help.
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Chrysanth glanced about at the wreath of flame surrounding her. She instinctively recoiled away from the lightning blast with a hysterical scream. As she founf herself undamaged, she looked around to see a vaguely familiar classroom filled with vaguely familiar faces. She took in the strange vision, seeing the white haired girl that had once been the teacher sitting behind the desk standing beside her.
Looking over the students again, she spotted herself hidden away at the back of the class, closest to the door and far away from the windows and the storm brewing outside. As she stared at her past self, she saw all of her fears boil to the surface. She was frightened that day, of the chance of thunder and lightning, of a brief power outage that had occurred just after she had arrived, of the mass of people surrounding her. Beyond her empathy for herself at that moment in time, she saw her arachnophobia, the weight of potential failure, every little vulnerable thought that ever filled her head.
As her eyes wandered away from herself, something in the room had changed. She had only seen a classroom and people earlier, but as she scanned the rows and columns of students, she saw THEIR fears as well, like parasites crawling along their backs. There were a few more arachnophobes sprinkled about the room, manifesting as spiders made of shadow with glowing red eyes creeping about their shoulders. Astraphobia and nyctophobia were present as well, manifesting as crowns of black lightning and wisps of black respectively, tormenting their owners.
Slowly, she saw and recognized more, looming shadows of social anxiety, spectral shackles of societal pressures, fading and frayed cloths for money troubles. Scanning the horde of shades as they manifested and their meanings became clear, she realized she wasn't the only one struggling with inner demons.
"I'm not so sure it's as cut and dry as all that, miss. Here in this place? Well, it's one of the only goodly cable cars for miles that's not a bustle with mortal folk. 'course there's there's the little miss- she's what they called a phantom, a tormented soul. That's what gives her the omph to make a difference in the mortal realm, and keep out what's not meant to be here. 'course that's just our end of it. I don't rightly know if it's the right thing to do to have us all in one place like this, but... well, without a place like this, I wouldn't be able to run a car, and without that... Don't rightly know what would be left of me." The ghost's expression looks a little bleak for a moment, but softens as the elevator signals the second floor. "That'd be y'all"
Realising it was only her facing this violent, macabre, entity, Tracy assumes a more defensive posture as she wracks her mind for an argument that might sway her.
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Tiresias felt drained and when the phantom responded she panicked. She was defenceless, she never should have committed like that, she should have had a second plan something to fall back into before using powers she didn’t understand. Then the flames hit and she fell. As she did so she closed her eyes and tried to calm herself into a comeback of some kind however when she opened her eyes she was sitting in a desk in a very familiar classroom.
I know this place, it’s Obusa University!
She looked around and again panicked. She was in public dressed as she was, everyone could see her and the girl with a bone mask next to her! Or could they? No one seemed to be reacting to their presence and they should, they were in plain view. Maybe they couldn’t see them? Did their magic protect them from normal eyes?
As she pondered these questions she saw herself, well before the transformation, enter the room. She recognized the stack of folders in his arms and the look of formality disguising some contained apprehension as he paced to the desk in front of the students and placed all folders with a somewhat loud thump.
The students stared at him and rose to greet him but he quickly dismissed them, he was never a big fan of the formalities in class. He took a big breath and turned to the class.
Good morning students, my name is Professor Dedric Silva and I’ll be your teacher for Advance English. Considering you are all in an advanced class we will speak English once inside these doors starting now.
He spoke in his best Japanese that was still not enough to hide his foreign accent, then he turned around and wrote his name on the board. Tiresias quickly lost interest in the scene, they were clearly locked into an illusion of some kind that was playing their past memories, but why this moment? And what did that spectre mean by the Dawn Watch? Are there others such as them? Maybe they could ask for help! They were clearly in a situation they did not and could not understand.
Professor Dedric continued talking in the background, now in English, as Tiresias considered her next move.
This course will be slightly different from what has happened in previous years. He pointed towards the folders in his desk. Each of you will receive a grand work of translation that you will need to complete by the end of the course. We will have scheduled evaluations of your progress throughout the semester as well as the common written exams. I’ll call each of you by name to come and take one folder. Please be as fast and quiet as you can to retrieve them so we can begin the class itself. Haruto Akane.
Tiresias focused her attention in the girl besides her, the combination of the black hair and the bone mask made her look pretty scary and she felt some apprehension as she spoke but she had to as far she knew the only way out could only be achieved with her help. Also, she could know something that could help them, both in this place and out there.
Hi! You’re Kurosawa right?
Of course! Kurosawa, the class, her reaction! That is going to happen, it’s a shared memory! That would explain why they were both there but not why they were even there to begin with. Was it the only memory they shared before meeting at the mall?
As Hiro interposed himself between her and the aquagirls, Sora nods, and then spots that the cloak seemed to have protected him. Rather than pushing through the wall, she pulls off her hoodie, which still has her pastels in it, and places it, along with the feather into the pot, before shaking it... And hoping.
Beneath her hoodie was a gray T-shirt with the word 'boop' mostly in white, but the second One being in pink and emblazoned with a hammer with a lightning bolt through it.
"I'm sorry, bosun, I. I've never had that happen before. No, I wasn't out drinking last night. No, I'm not seasick or even motion-sick. I... I'm going to push through the rest of the day, if I'm really not feeling well in the morning I'll drop by Medical and get checked out.
Unspoken was the general agreement among all sailors, regardless of gender, that if one wasn't desperately ill, one avoided Medical as much as possible. It wasn't that the corpsmen weren't competent, but one didn't want to get a reputation for being either a malingerer or a lazy-butt.
The boatswain's mate nodded. "Let me know if you have to, hope it's not some food poisoning or a bug going around."
The look of disappointment and doubt grew a little under Pryde's reassuring smile, though she took up the paper for the time being.
"We can touch up on this after liberty call, see if you're feeling any better about it then." That was as much a test as anything... if Brooke was doing fine *then*... well, that's just more proof to the argument that he wasn't the 4.0 sailor that everyone felt he was. If he wasn't, well, maybe an assignment to something a bit more low-stress might be best for the Navy...
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Kiyomi had bought the lie at the time; relieved to know that her... interests had not drawn unwanted attention from onlookers and that the child was not talking about her, she could be satisfied with giving the kid a rude remark about how children should be more respectful of their elders before returning to the events of the day, cheerfully ignoring whatever the strangers around her might be thinking.
From her new angle, Juno saw things differently. It was quite apparent who was looking at who, and Yuki had made no actions before the child's comment. Kiyomi was not stupid; Juno's face flushed red when she realized that Yuki had been covering for her.
"You... That was you?!?" Do you even realize what you did???" What had seemed like a pleasant afternoon had turned to an utter disaster in Juno's perception; she had to vent her agony on somebody, and the future self of the girl responsible was certainly an apt choice.
I n-no. I just... wanted to, know. Sakura shrunk away from the angry girl in front of her.
Not quite sure what the girls (Sora&May) were actually doing behind me, I focus most of my energy on preparing for the potential attack that might occur. These little she-demons didn't seem to be all that tough on their own one-on-one, but facing a hoard...ughhhhh
I'm glad I have this cloak on my side
Hearing Sora as she takes off the hoodie, I sort of glance back at her noticing the shirt with the huge hammer I cut a slight smile her way seeing that she now was trying to operate the pots magical ability.
Turning back to the hoard with their knives at the ready I begin to point the glowing quill at them screaming:
"Don't You Come Any Closer?!?! I MEAN IT!"
Sora: Even as you place the hoodie in the pot, a weak force seems to resist the combination. The pocket of the hoodie lays at the top of the pot as if something inside were laying on top of a solid surface. However, once you start shaking the pot, all three items appear in the game abstraction representing the combining contents of the pot. The black hoodie, pile of used and broken pastels, and raven feather begin to circle each other in the bubble, and the pot begins to vibrate of its own accord. Swelling pulses of electricity follow the speeding items as they churn within the pot, and hairline fractures begin to form. Paradoxical rays of shadow pour from the seams. Black threads surround Sora, and trace a churning web around her like a dream catcher. The pot bursts, and Sora begins to transform without sealing a pact.
Spirited Yokai Shift
At the end of her transformation, Sora falls to her knees, clutching her chest. Her heart seems to be beating double-time, and her body is seething with magical energy. The strange architecture of this dreamscape makes sense to her now. Without much trouble, she could leave the game and enter the food court by traveling Deosil, delve deeper into the madness toward a sleeping child in a Widdershins direction, or at a steep incline somewhat between Ezel and Noge, you can reach the girls on the balcony. There are others in the flux, but they are shielded for now. To reach them would require magic... which you have, but feel reluctant to waste. The shields seem familiar and benign.
The selkie ort and wark in surprise, but seem to be mustering for an attack. They have all now brandished their stone blades and are looking for an opening in Hiro's perfect defense strategy. A few selkie attempt an experimental attack, and though their aim seems true, they manage to cut each other before hurting Hiro. They are forced to retreat.
Pushed, prodded, and shuffled to the back of the group, May presses up against the glass portal to no effect. It seems that without a black feather, she's not leaving through the looking glass.
As the darkness wraps around Tenshi, she's lifted bodily into the air, and of all things, mist surrounds and obfuscates her appearance, leaving her in the center of a hazy world of pain, if only for a moment. When the haze clears, she's still floating for a moment, before descending the single foot, to land on first one foot, then the other. The shirt and pants she had been wearing have completely disappeared (along with her hoodie and the pastels).
At first, she appears to be wearing a cloak like Hiro, but instead the feathers more resemble wings, flowing from the center of her back. Rather than being solely black like the other, the feathers create a sea of black with sterling vanes, her skin tones stand in stark contrast to the cloak, the porcelain white reflecting more light than the silver. Just above the 'wings', a half-vest covering the majority of her midriff dangles loosely, weighted down by black onyxes set in silver - like the dangling strands of a dream catcher. Perched on the side of her head, similar to the selkies, was a raven head.
Her lower half is concealed by only a long, thick strip of cloth front and back , along with opaque black stockings that stop just short of covering her thighs.
Above her face is a Kanji symbol: Yume - - which is covering her eye, though the central portions are only visible while her eye is closed. At first, they are closed, as she tries to make sense of the information permeating through her body. She tries to focus on the things that are most important as she opens her eyes. "They need help." she says aloud, though who needed help was another question. Her voice is slightly younger, the 'wings' of her outfit settling around her to form a skirt of black-and-silver feathers overtop the loin-cloth equivalent of her outfit, leaving only her midriff showing, and her arms completely bare.
If possible May would try to get her own feather since the strange creatures seemed to be retreating with the pot broken she wouldn't be able to mix anything but hopefully the feather would be enough.
Sakura cringes away from Juno remembering what happened as young Sakura's voice rings solidly through the crowd. Okasan why did that girl lie? She was in front. Her friend was looking at her.
Tenshi takes a moment to regard her surroundings, and try to figure out what she'd felt a moment before. "We can go deeper... I think. Or I can take us out. It's... confusing. I don't know how any of it works, but I know that it does. I... get the same feelings as if it were a nightmare. I feel like we should try to wake up whoever is sleeping... but that will be dangerous." She had a feeling 'Anywhere but here.' was going to be the response.
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Juno winced at the child's next comment; Kiyomi had not been there to hear it the first time, as Yuki had been swift in pulling her away from the scene. But now, as a spectator rather than a participant, she heard everything; what Sakura had said, and all of the comments from the people who had stayed quiet when Kiyomi was in earshot.
"You..." Juno grabbed the younger girl by her collar, her face twisted in rage. "You fool! You idiot! You imbecile! You... you child..." Her grip relaxed as she remembered herself. The scene playing out before her had only occurred a matter of months ago , if that; despite her teenage figure, Sakura was still the same little girl that had acted with such naivety then. Juno's hands fell to her side, relenting.
"Nothing we saw here matters. It is merely the work of our enemy, attempting to confuse and distract us. It's not important, so don't tell anyone what happened in this vision... please." It was forced and Juno visibly winced when she said it, but she DID say it, so it must count for something... right?
Sakura hesitantly nodded. But w-hy we're you looking? Did you like her skirt?
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Oh. Alright. Okasan said you just liked girls' butts more than guys' butts. But that's silly. Butts are gross.
Cresting Tide Naiad (or is it Seaman Alex Brooke?) is in conflict and crisis with a hundred questions and no answers as the scene shifts to one that may or may not be the reality of the situation, or yet another illusion of the Nightmare.
Fly, you fool!
Their first 'gut' reaction is to *run*. Run, run so far away, just run, run all night and day...
But then something else settles in their addled and fearful mind, soothing it somewhat with the gentle whisper of the ocean lapping against the side of a ship, the slow rocking motion...
I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass over me and through me. And when it has gone past I will turn the inner eye to see its path. Where the fear has gone there will be nothing. Only I will remain.
They attempt to face their fear. If the others are dead, it's their fault. Authority may be delegated, but Responsibility can never be. Though Naiad's chest pounds It's not too late, you can still get away, run! RUN! RUN! they fight the urge for flight, taking any number of risks while trying to rouse the broken and wounded.
*A brief image of an American flag, tattered and torn, with far too many stripes and not nearly enough stars flaps in an early morning haze* ...oh say does that Star Spangled Banner yet wave... o'er the Land of the Free and the Home of the Brave...
"These colors don't run."
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"...I am going to give you some advice, Sakura. Sometimes, a grown-up really does not want to talk about something. Sometimes, a grown-up really, REALLY does not want to talk about something, and continuing to talk about it will make her very upset. When this happens, it is VERY important that you don't talk about it. This? This is one of those things." As an only child, Juno never had to deal with anyone significantly younger than her before. After her first experience the thought of her responsibility to produce an heir produced knots in her stomach in new and exciting ways.
"We need to focus on getting out of here and regrouping with the others. I'd rather not be absent for our first victory." Juno looked around the area, trying to find some seam in the illusion; usually, these things break apart when you become aware of them, but for obvious reasons that was not the case here. The typical alternative was watching the memory in its entirety and learning some sort of lesson from it before you could return. If this was the case, the obvious next step would be to continue following Kiyomi and Yuki into the theater, where some fresh new horror would manifest in Juno's new perspective on the events.
She looked earnestly for an alternative.
Sakura gazed longingly after her mother not hearing the girl. Her mother was in the hospital and with her father running the business she couldn't see her often. Looking back at the girl whose eyes were closed in thought she moved away towards her wrapping her arm around the figure of her Okasan. I love you.
Chrysanth turned to look at the magical girl floating beside her. "Uh... yes. Kurosawa Miyako..." She answered, as the students were called forward. She tried to keep her attention on her compatriot, but the shifting phantoms looming over the crowd kept drawing her eye. With each name called and each faintly remembered response, her grip on the can of mace grew tighter, until the moment of truth.
Hearing the memory's Dedric call, her attention turned to her other self, her breath catching in her throat as she remembered it had that day. She swallowed hard, waiting for her memory to gather its courage and stand. The room was staring at her now. She watched the fears mutate as her memory slowly made its way up the aisles of desks.
She knew what was to happen next. She stared out to window knowing full well there would be a bolt and crack of thunder almost right outside the building. The power would go out for all of two, eternal seconds, and she would tumble to the floor with a shriek. Then the lights return, she'll be cowering against the wall, and everyone would be staring at her. Someone would laugh, and she's go running out the door.
The series of events played out in her head as she watched herself step ever closer. She held the comforting warmth of her item in both hands, against her heart, wishing frantically that she could give her past self it's calming warmth, and banish her fears for five crucial seconds.
Tiresias smiled as the girl answered, she placed both of her hands together as she prepared to unload her plans and question with her new colleague. She felt excited now, ready to try and make a great first impression. That was something she hadn’t felt in quite some time.
Well I am Professor Dedric Silva, although right now that name seems hardly fitting. I wanted to discuss a few things with you. One of them being the nature of the place where we are and our plans to leave it. Well you see I believe-
Tiresias followed the gaze of her colleague as she realized that she was being ignored. Not that she believed it was on purpose the scene was probably taking quite a lot of attention from her friend.
Kurosawa Miyako. She heard the memory Dedric say. Carefully she observed the young girl rise from her desk and approach the front row. From the corner of her eye she saw her colleague freeze in concentration while clutching her can of mace. Of course, she is remembering what happened in this classroom. Does she think she can do anything about it?
The Angry Princess did say this was all her nightmare and that we were nothing but trespassers. Dream Rangers she called us… hmm… Maybe that’s what we really are, maybe we can change this nightmare into a dream. Maybe we can… I have definitely seen stranger things tonight.
She got up and approached her colleague. What could she do to help? Most problems in our world come from a lack of understanding. If people just knew each other better, if they understood each other. Maybe she could connect Dedric, the memory, with Miyako, the memory. Maybe if they understood each other better, if Miyako knew that she was not alone and that she was safe there.
She extended her hand towards her colleague, but as she was forming the words to say to her she hesitated. What if changing this memory had deeper complications then just turning a nightmare into something better? Was it really wise to do so? She pushed these thoughts away. If she didn’t help, her colleague would certainly do something alone, it’s better to help.
What if we try to make a dream here? She said while smiling and extending her hands for her friend. She hoped to direct her magic to her, to help her, to allow the memories to connect, to understand each other.
A fire truck reaches the road in front of the decimated building and men in fire-resistant coveralls file out. There seems to be a few small fires in the rubble of the mall, and many of the men begin the process of hooking the truck into the hydrant, but three rescuers don their gear and climb the rubble.
As they approach, one of the men calls out. 「Miss, are you alright? Is there anyone with you? -any more survivors that you know of?」 It’s only then that you look down to see the singed and shredded serafuku you still wear; the thin, weak limbs you use to turn and lift rubble; and the terrible weight of the situation that surrounds you. Your body aches like your third day of bootcamp, and you cannot say you have much to show for the effort. These three men are far more qualified to sift through concrete than you are in this state. You’re liable to hurt yourself if you haven’t already. What do you do?
Magic Shift!
There is a pulse of silver light centered on Sakura as she reaches out to her mother. From Sakura’s point of view, it appears as if her mother’s strings are cut all at once and she crumples to the floor in the middle of the movie theater lobby. A claw machine nearby lets off a shower of sparks and the stuffed animals within burst out of the window, tumbling to the floor. Relationships all throughout the room shift dramatically, and a few moviegoers begin to fight each other. From this room, there is no way to see if or how Kiyomi and Yuki might have been affected.
The moment comes, and the lightning illuminates the room. Time in the vision slows to infinitesimal increments as the eyes of students around the room glow with an indigo light. Students gape, flinch, and throw themselves from their seats, having been given the briefest glimpse of their fears. Miyako crumbles to her knees, as expected, but hers is not the only shrill scream in the darkness that follows. The progression of time returns to normal, and a quiet settles on the room. The lights blink back to life, and one of the students begins to laugh nervously.
「Shut up, Yagame!」 One of the female students gives the guy a shove, and many of the other students let out nervous laughter of their own. 「I mean…」 “F*ck off, Ichiro.” The girl beams with pride at her show of discipline.
An exchange student, tall with coppery skin and a sparse but well-groomed beard bends to help Miyako to her feet. You don’t think you knew it then, or remembered since, but you think he’s from Nepal. “Do you need I can take to you the school-hospital?” He speaks in broken English with a sly smile, and glances toward the teacher. In a conspiratorial whisper he says, 「I think that is English for: do you need me to take you to the nurse?」 His Japanese is stilted and formal, but much better than his English. 「My name is Paresh... Dhital Paresh. I think that I am saying that correctly. Dhital is my family name. You are Kurosawa?」
The classroom begins to return to some semblance of order. What does/did either of either of you do?
"I... I don't know. It's all fuzzy..." Naiad wobbles a bit they take in not just the deceased but also their own condition, and looks at an already purpling foot from where they'd slipped on a piece of loose construction material and did a number on her ankle.
No! It can't happen like this. It has to end better, some of them were just kids! This can't be it! I have to try to save them. At any cost!
They pour themselves into the scene, trying to use anything they can tap into or onto, to wind things back to the point before things went 'bad'...
Both Sakuras cry Okasan! in unison as they try to shake the woman awake.
Unless an immediate threat presents itself on the 2nd floor Fleur takes a look over the balcony, what can she see at this stage?
The doors to the elevator open with a ding, and the tall, gangly ghost bows with a flourish, gesturing for his passengers to take their leave. Other than being exceptionally tall and missing one arm, the ephemeral bellhop looks as normal as one might expect. When the doors open, it’s the Mall’s second floor, and not some form of extra-dimensional pit. Glancing up to meet Alaina’s scrutiny, he winks and tips his hat, showing off a charming smile.
Fleur rolls to the balcony in one practiced thrust and looks around. A teen in steampunk cosplay kneels on the floor crying for her mother a few feet on Fleur’s right. Down on the second floor, the other transformed cosplayers are gone, and a street ninja is facing off against a very damp and very angry young woman with a long glass sword. On the digital display window, there are hundreds of cute girls with wicked-looking knives harassing a young woman, a scantily clad teen, and a man in a fluffy cloak.
As the outburst from Sakura causes Tracy to flinch, the Angry Princess lurches forward, her bare feet leaving wet footprints on the tiled floor. The glass sword makes a glistening arc for the urban climber’s throat.
Naiad reaches out with every bit of her newfound power to try and make things right. The hydrant the men are working on bursts and spews water into the sky. Crests of energy surround Naiad, and something of the energy holding her in this place unravels and realigns to her plea. The water pours back into the hydrant. The men walk backwards into their truck. The truck speeds back down the hill. The sun falls in the east, and a full moon rises. For a moment Naiad can feel the presence of the moon and the kinship she shares with the magic that has brought her here. Then, the rubble begins to rise back into place, and suddenly Naiad is lost in a hail of rising bricks and dust. The sun bursts from the west horizon and whips across the sky. Vines and moss recede from scorched and broken tile as the sun and moon chase each other from horizon to horizon. Naiad travels backwards through a month of time, and as the flickering of sunlight slows to a crawl, and the full moon rises once more, Naiad gasps and stumbles forward onto the floor of the carousel.
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Juno was at a bit of a loss for what to do. If the panic before her had happened originally-and she had no reason to believe it had not-Kiyomi had never heard of it. She was already in the screening room at the time and had not heard anything about a woman collapsing on the floor in the lobby. For all Juno knew, Sakura's mother was dying in front of her daughter for the second time.
I don't think I would be able to handle going through that myself... A child would certainly break. Juno approached Sakura timidly, putting a hand on her shoulder in an awkward attempt at comfort. "Um, Sakura. This happened a long time ago, remember? So, whatever is about to happen, you can't change it. But there are people who need our help right now, remember? We need to get out of here so we can fight and help them. Maybe the way out is in the screening room? Would you like to go there with me?"
Even if the way out was not in the screening room Juno felt that she probably should not let Sakura watch this whole scene play out. At the very least, she hoped that speaking did not just make things worse.
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Much like the tides of the ocean, the surging power starts small to Naiad. Though they can't control the power directly, it seems to be aligning to her wishes if not directly their intent.
They don't have much time to consider the ramifications of the surge as it increases in both magnitude and strength -- they were already battered and bruised from whatever had happened in that 'future time' and now they were in 'past time'.
They had tried to grab, to stop, but their own working slapped them away, grabbing them by the spirit and forcibly holding them in place in fluid bonds as if to proudly proclaim
They..she... they... the paradox potentially invoked causes their head to scream in insane agony, almost as if the weight of world is attempting to cause it to crush, the pressure of being one magic in a time that is not their own pushing down and over them. Tears flow from the eyes, as blood seeps from their ears and nose.
Coughing would be too much effort. Breathing is barely working. Their heart pounds in an irregular heartbeat that their alien body feels thrumming through their entire form as she remains motionless on the carousel.
For the moment, the cooler surface of the abandoned ride is providing the only comfort to their excruciating pain, which far worse than simply getting one's neck cut, far worse than a hundred Aztec emperor death curses going off all at once.
And through the coolness, the glowing-hot warmth of the dog tags somehow comforts them. Somehow. It just... the pain. It's all blinding agony.
Life is pain. Anyone who tries to tell you otherwise is selling you something.
Sakura: It dawns on you that not only was there nothing you could do to help your mother, but that your reckless exposure to magic has caused this harm all along. You have serious doubts you're capable of helping anyone, and fear that you are probably a monster or bad guy yourself. Juno's words only serve to prove that even with magic there are things you will have to give up. What is worse: you cannot cry. No tears come, and a cold pit grows in your stomach.
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I did this. I did this. I hurt Okasan. I made her sick. She says. This is all my fault. The porcelain doll mask hides the devastation on her face but not the emptiness in her voice as the full weight of what she's done settles on her.
Trying to follow after Sora she doesn't really register her as asking a question just gets out a panicked. "Whatever is safe." As she tries to keep up.
As the nihilistic Woobie-Goth swings the three-foot glass razorblade at her, Tracy finally snaps.
Oh no! I've taken too much crap from too many others. I am dying just because you can't take somebody holding a mirror up to your own hypocrisy!
Allowing herself to fall below the arc of the blade, Tracy kicks out, timing the strike to catch the flat in an insane attempt to shatter the blade.
"I don't know that I can do safe given what's going on all over the place... but we'll go with taking you outside." she says as she takes May by the hand and leads her through the barrier and to... relative... safety. Once she's out, she steps back into the fuzzy reality to offer the same aid to Hiro. If he wants it. Once that's decided, she gives May a small smile, "Stay safe... I'm going to go try to figure things out."
Whether he does or doesn't, she moves back into the dream, and focuses her attention on the person she'd recognized as the Dreamer... she slips away in a widdershins direction.
Tracy, you feel your pulse surge and your brain begins to focus, processing visual and kinetic information at a speed that makes you experience a slow-down in time. The blade cuts through the air toward you and you drop your weight onto one foot, turning and swinging your torso to bring your trainers to bear on the sharpened glass.
You relax your focus by a hair when you see the two arcs begin to align at just the right angle, and your attention is caught by the phantom's other hand. balled into a fist and headed on a collision course with your face's current position.
You have a choice: Connect with the sword and break it, and take the punch square to the temple; or ragdoll, and collapse to the floor, exposing yourself to future attacks.
This...
This can't go on. The longer the fight lasts, the greater the likelihood that I will slip at the wrong time, or just...
just not be fast enough...
now,
Now,
!
Blowing out her breath, Tracy wills the kick through the blade as it passes over her; steeling herself for the blow she cannot avoid.
I look off in the direction that Sora gestures to, talking about deeper within the dream, and I bite my lip.
It doesn't seem to make much sense for me to go deeper down the rabbit hole at this point.
Looking around, I also notice the young women outside fighting.
"For now, my friend, be safe." Ignoring the offered hand, I dive through the bubbled dome, quill pen in hand still glowing in all its brilliance. I rush through the barrier with hopes to intervene on Tracy's behalf. Seeing the blade miss her, I duck and slide across the floor to take the blow from the phantasm.
I don't know quite how this cloak works, but I'm bound to be better quipped to take a hit than she is.
There’s a distortion as Hiro moves, as though he is blinking from one location to another, leaving fading afterimages. For both Hiro and May, the window bows, bends, and snaps back into place. This returns them to their usual attire and deposits them on the floor of the food court. As soon as May’s feet reach the floor, Hiro tumbles out, ducking into a roll and sliding across the floor. It doesn’t look like the young man should make it, but he jaunts a few feet across the tile, and jaunts again up and into the melee.
When Tracy’s foot connects, the blade shatters. There is a scream, and a shower of feathers and dark energy that obscures the collision.
(more sweet music)
The first thing visible from the balcony is the phantom’s fist, and a hand around her wrist. Then, the black mist begins to clear and Hiro can be seen, a disbelieving look on his face, holding the phantom at bay. Against all odds, he cleared the distance and was able to catch the blow in mid-air.
The the mist clears entirely. 「Yare yare. Can’t you pick on something your own size?」 A man stands over Tracy in a red hooded jacket. In one gloved hand, he holds a long black cane the end of which lays almost casually against the Phantom’s knuckles. The other hand is tucked into his jacket pocket. His black hair bristles and a bolt of black lightning arcs over his arm, cane, and into the phantom, sending her sliding against the tile floor. The man gives Hiro an apologetic look. 「Terribly sorry. You might have had that one, young knight. I just couldn’t afford any more of you getting killed. The Heart Pledge is meant to be a consensual thing. Cool displacement cloak, though.」The man’s head rolls around as he takes in the room, letting his cane touch the floor. He scratches his goatee thoughtfully. 「I thought a few more of you had transformed already. Kuso... I can’t fight this thing myself. That just won’t do.」
The phantom across the room screeches in frustration. “No, no, no! We were here first! This place is trash to the likes of you!” The phantom begins to swell in place, becoming more solid, more heavy. A crown of small black horns sprouts around her head, and thick black veins warp her extremities into clawed talons. The creature stretches out to her new full height, eye level with the floor of the balcony, and lets loose a roar that shakes the mall in its foundations. A thick, whip-like tail unfurls from her back, tipped with a razor blade.
The man in the red hooded jacket scratches the back of his head.「Now would be a very good time for the rest of you to make your pledges. If you can’t remember the poem, I’m sure a ‘yes please sempai’ will suffice.」
As Tenshi flits from dream to dream, using them like stepping stones across an unfathomable river of nothingness in between, more lyrics from her song come to mind.
'Go down the rabbit hole, and out the other side.
You can't go home in the middle of the magic carpet ride.
You've got to greet the sun, before his lovely daughter moon.
You can't forsake the journey for the safety of your room -
until you've learned your lesson well...'
Slowly she ascends... or is it descends, into the enchanted forest. Was it like a faerie tale because she imagined it to be? Or was the faerie tale like this, because others had dreamed it? The question was ultimately useless, but still one that nagged at some part of Tenshi's mind.
「Ano... I'm definitely no prince charming, so the obvious answer won't work.」 she pauses for a moment, staring at the youth, and then frowns. A pang of jealousy slips through for a moment, as she watches the impossibly old or is she impossibly young? girl toss and turn fitfully. She taps her foot uncomfortably for a moment, before crossing through the garden towards the young woman, to place the back of her hand on the girl's forehead. Was she feverish? Could one be feverish in a dream?
She was fairly certain that the girl was having a nightmare, but wasn't positive. Should she wake her? What would happen to herself if she woke the dreamer whilst she was in the dream..? She'd definitely have to have a way out before she did so. Perhaps it was better to let her sleep, but give her a more pleasant dream.
'To wake the sleeper, or calm the dreamer...' she ponders. She tries for a moment to attempt to garner whether this girl is causing the haunting, or if she's somehow quelling it. Assuming an impossible girl could dream such a thing.
|
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Juno messed up. She messed up, and she had no idea how to fix it, so she selected the most rational and reasonable response to the dilemma: walking away and ignoring the problem.
I do not have time to coddle a child, she thought to herself. Figuring the only way through was forward, she proceeded into the screening room, leaving Sakura behind. There was definitely nothing Juno could do for her, so why bother? She had other priorities to attend to.
Chrysanth jumps at the lightning strike, sucking in a breath in fright, despite expecting it, but avoids crumbling like her past self due to the comforting warmth in her hands. The screams take her completely by surprise as the memory diverges. She takes in the altered events in amazement, laughing weakly as the man is chided. Her newfound magic didn't have the effect she had hoped for, but the memory of herself wasn't sprinting out the door.
As the exchange student offered Miyako a hand up the shaking girl burns red, her fear of the storm outside quickly forgotten as social awkwardness kicked in. "Y-Yes... Kurosawa Miyako..." She gives Paresh a polite bow. "I-I'm fi-" She stops herself mid sentence, glancing to Silva before switching to English, "「I am fine, but thank for offer.」" She gives the helpful classmate one more bow before stammering, "「I must take folder and seat, class is runn- er g-going...?」"