I don't know why but I thought Gylfir was moving towards becoming Seven's bodyguard. Gylfir should've started his generational wealth gathering eons ago!
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Hypnotist has exited stage left as intended. Now, his son will enter the picture. I've made a few different builds for him, but I can't really settle on anything. I'd like to not lean in too heavily on the "dreams" schtick as 1, it's very limiting and 2, his son has little to tie him to his dad's traditions as his father was too preoccupied with heroics. Originally, Briareus was to play a big role in the son's training as a hero, but I think it would be more interesting if Sinclair, who Mac often refered to as "Young Mage", were to take the son under his wing. As we may be potentially losing two big bruisers, I may want to pivot away from the more mobile "utility/support" character I originally intended and go for a heavy-hitter. Perhaps, in keeping with his generational curse, he will be fueled by nightmares in some way. Any ideas are greatly welcome.
The Hypnotist, taken completely by surprise, begins to unravel. The signature colors that swirl about him brighten as the blast of energy tears Mac to shreds. The nightmare tendrils retract back into his eyes. Tattered bits of the Hypnotist first float away, and then return, as if being sucked by a black hole. In fact, that is exactly what is happening. The Eyes truly are a portal, it seems. Unable to stop whatever is happening, he let's out a cry-- "Find me! In Dreams!"-- and POOF. The swirling lights of The Hypnotist no longer shine.
The Hypnotist grins with glee as he lets open his mouth. The dragon parrots, but a ball of flame bursts out.
"Black Dragon, let's take a bite out of this broad!"
The glint of the Knight's armor blurs and stops immediately in front of the Doctor. "Gracie!" Thankful for her interception, Mac can't help but feel guilty if anything were to happen to her.
The Hypnotist doesn't give up. He continues his shadowpuppeteering, commanding the dragon to repeat it's attack on it's brethren.
Like a shadow puppeteer, The Hypnotist claws his hands into the air, mimicking the black dragon. He swoops his hands, undulating like waves and brings them together in a violent chomp.
"DRAAAAAAAAGOOOOOOOOOON FIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!"
Recognizing Briareus's debilitating grasp from their years of working together, The Hypnotist unleashes a Stare from the core of nightmares in hopes to rattle Una further.
Hypnotist is looking to orchestrate a team attack. He is attempting to hit her with
How many hero points should we have? I don't know if Sinclair and Gracie have things that give them extra or if I've missed a post saying we received some extra?
"Hah, The Deadman is truly looking for a way out. Goad the sheila out of her beehive. Let's all take point, and not stand so ready to receive a fireball!"
Mac takes in the sights. It's not hard to see chaos is coming. He tucks away in an alley, retrieves his phones from his pocket and makes a call to his wife and son. Unsurprisingly neither respond. He'd made it a bad habit to disappear for work without communicating with them. Surely his wife thought he'd run off with another woman. He always said he'd get better at it, and for awhile, he did, but he could never tell the truth. "My love, I'm sorry for the disappearance. This has been a tough wedge in our marriage, and I am ashamed that I've never been able to come out and say it. I know it's stupid of me, but I.... I'm sorry this is best left to a conversation in person. Just know that what you're seeing in Freedom City now... I won't allow it to go on much longer. I'll explain everything once this is over, just the three of us. I couldn't love another as much as I love you and Ozzie, Gillian. Know that to you, I've always been true, but I've not done right by you. I just--- he chokes at the thought of admitting his truth, that he's a costumed hero. The secret nearly claws it's way further down his throat, creating a lump.
"Ozzie, I've not been a good father to you, I will admit that. I've got a lot of explaining to do. Just know that you and your mother have always been at the heart of what I do. 'For a better tomorrow' and allat. M'boy, after this, you'll know everything, the bloodline, the dreamtime-- everything. I'm sorry I've not been present, but I promise everything changes after today. I love you, Oz. I'll see you when this is all over." Mac stifles back tears, and rejoins the others.
How long have we been gone? The Hypnotist should probably check in with his family......
[b]"I'm so sorry for, uh, what transpired. If everyone is accounted for, we can now step out of here."[b]
"Sinclair! Push past the trauma! This is only a nightmare, a reflection of your deepest fears. You've come a long way, and yet have work to do, but do not allow yourself to sink under the horrors of your past. The Crimson Mask does not hold control over you now, or ever. Fight past it, Mage! Make peace with the past and let it dismantle this nightmare!"
With the Yowie asleep, the Hypnotist whips his head around to survey the chaos. What he thought was Lantern Hill Cemetary proves to be something more. The Dreamtime. Oh no, he thinks to himself, I didn't clear my thoughts before entering..we've created a Nightmare!. Behind him, a floating chunk of a castle, the Order of Light. The ephemeral walls wisp away, revealing the Crimson Mask and the young mage Sinclair. The two open a portal and appear on graveyard grounds. The Brotherhood of the Yellow Sign take no heed, stuck in an endless loop of chanting. The skies churn bright blues and purples. Heat lightning sends silver streaks through the night. In the horizon, the edges of this nightmare and the Dreamtime mingle. I must help Sinclair make peace before this gets bigger. Mac wells power from the realm around him, releasing a wave of it's energy through the palms of his hands this time, instead of his eyes.
Seven's commanding presence clears his head for a moment, long enough for the Hypnotist to fortify himself, lift himself eye-to-eye and return the Yowie's stare.
The Hypnotist sees the yellow bolt dart through the downpour as the vicious Man-Beast breaks into a bestial gallop. Mac's eyes take on the same yellow glow, letting Seven's power bolster his will.
The Hypnotist maintains his seated position, waiting for the final hero to enter. Once he's left in the Adytum alone, he opens his eyes and looks into the portal. It'd been awhile since he's worked with others, let alone brought newcomers into the Dreamtime. A few days earlier, most of them were strangers" he thinks to himself, "funny how peril can bring strangers close together. Uncrossing his legs and rising to his feet, he shudders as he approaches the portal. The shudder grows into full body shakes as each step brings him closer to the dreamtime. Anxiety begins to chomp at him, a cacophonous clarion ringing in his ears. Gracie turns to him and says something, but he can't quite make it out. Her face, young, confused, innocent to the ways of the universe and the world of magic just like... His stomach begins to whirl as he steps into the portal. The fabric of the Adytum unravels and disolves behind him. Her face haunts him. "I-I-I'm.." The ringing gets louder the longer he looks at Gracie, yet he cannot draw his eyes away. "...I'm so sorry..." First sweat, then tears begin to fall. "...it was an accident..." The horrific sounds of serpent tongues chanting, arcane energies, thunder, and in the distance-- a deep, gutteral almost moaning growl--no longer only in The Hypnotist's head. He falls to his knees and crawls towards Gracie, wallowing. "..I didn't mean to..." The Realm of Dreams beneath him shifts and skews itself to... Lantern Hill Cemetary, 1984. A massive feral beast-man in the distance obliterates the cemetary gates. Despite his distance once can clearly see that his eyes burn bright blue with animalistic rage. As the serpantine Brotherhood of the Yellow Sign continue their encantations, the beast-man tramples closer.
The Hypnotist remains cross-legged while he continues his focus on the mirror. "Like a charm, Gracie! Sinclair, Seven, wonderful work. Now let's get our blokes back up and on their feet and get ourselves out of here."
The Hypnotist gives Seven a wide grin and bellows "Fair game!" and accents with a clap.
He looks over to Seven, Sinclair, Gracie and the mirror, takes a deep breath and closes his eyes. The dreams begin to come to him, envigorating his connection to the Dreamtime. "Ay there we go mates, keep dreamin'." He opens his eyes, extending his hands to the mirror. Another deep breath and "When!
"Seems my connection to the Dreamtime, for the first time since I can remember, is severed." Macallah paces around the room, scanning over possible tools while he strokes his beard and plots. He stops at the scrolls and calls out to the young mage. "Sinclair wouldja give these scrolls here a lookover?" He continues pacing, stopping at the mirror behind the Throne. He looks back at the others. Deadman with the dagger, Silver Tiger (getting suspiciously close to the Deadman), the two Giants (Mr. Many-Hands and Mr. Always-Hungry), and then stopping at the Good Knight. Think think think... We've got the tools and the power, we just need the know-how. An idea hits him. He chuckles to himself, releasing a deep bellied laugh. " Oi, I've got a bit of a hare-brained 'un! Gracie, that Calesvol of yours...'Scalabur, yeah? I heard 'Scalabur can pierce through anythin'! Let's see if that holds up. Now, that mirror seems to be the portal in. If it's currently got us locked in here, I wonder... If I focus my energies into the portal, and if Sinclair can muck it up with his brand of magic, and if you pierce through the mirror itself... could we potentially use the mirror to open a portal to the Dreamtime? Now, this is gonna sound a bit loonie, but if I'm gonna attempt it, I'm gonna need some help to do it. I reckon I've got quite a bit of juice in me, but my connection to the Dreamtime has always been stronger when there are others connected to it around me. What that means is.. I may need to put some of you inna slumber." He points a thumb to the Giants, The Deadman and Silver Tiger. "Now, it won't hurt ya one bit, I promise. Just a simple stare into m'eye and you'll be snoozin', could be dreamin' off the pain too if ya want. Once the portal is open, I reckon I could keep it open, we'll have ya woken up and we can get right outta here. Seven, you could back us up in case anything comes out to harm us. Howsat?"
"Let's just jam our noggins together and figure this one out, bloodshed-free. Now, lemme have a peek at it 'ere if ya don't mind." Mac's eyes glaze over with a deep purple hue as he attempts to extend his senses into the dreamtime.
If that doesn't work:
"Well, crikey... maybe I'm just tuckered, but I've never had that problem before." Let's give this Alloy Adytum a once over, why don't we. Off-chance it does work: "A-ha! A load of crap, that Dog. Lemme just call out to my mates. Us guardians take care-a one another. We'll be drinkin' coldies in the GAFA in no time!" His connection to the Dreamtime strengthens as he sits down, crosses his legs and begins to channel more energy. " Moli! Mate listen... we've found ourselves in a bittova jam...right yeah, it's a lot but listen... Gonna need ya and the other guardians to break us out."
The demon's claw rips against the fibers of the dreamtime that stretchs across The Hypnotists body. Luckily for Mac, flesh was not broken, but beneath the weave, he can feel the pain dully burn at him. "Now yer a Foul demon!" he laughs as his eyes become a portal from the realm of dreams. Bolts dreamstuff stream towards his assailaint.
The Hypnotist summons all the colors of the dreamtime around him, saturating him in rich hues, some of colors never seen before. He steps aboard his flight disc and leans into the mirror, eyes a-glow, ready for what may come.
"Take a look 'round, Good Knight. These two look more at home than we do. Throw a cloak on us lot and we'd be a regular bunch-a bogans muckin about"
"Kid, Mac addresses Sinclair, "sometimes magic isn't the answer. A sheila like her will be snuffing us out in record time once she gets a wiff of our magic. Now, I don't mean to be belittle ye, but as she's claimed 999 realms, I'd imagine her strength would trump your ability to mask our presence. This one, might be best if we go it mundane."
With grease smudged against his warm-toned black skin, Macallah gives Briareus a chuckle. "I've quit those, my friend but I appreciate the offer. How 'bout ya give us a hand loadin' these crates up on the carts, ye? I reckon with those arms of yours, we'd be done in no time!"
The Hypnotist breaks a brief smile at Seven's plan. With age comes wisdom he thinks to himself. He assists where he can, feeling uncomfortable with anything that remotely seems like celebrating.
"Invisibility" Mac utters as he assists the smeltor. "With the sort of power she commands, I'm sure invisibility is just a thin sheet that she can see right through. Truesight, kid. The Sheila has probably mastered it in spades. I bet it tickles her ear whenever someone even so much as mentions her name. Now I'm not here to argue, but I feel we should learn from those we help, as they know more about this realm. and her capabilities, then we do."
"I wouldn't want to risk any more of these villagers lives by bringing the fight to them. We bring the fight to her, catch her by surprise, or something close t' it. Briareus isn't wrong though... Say, Smith.... are these weapons picked up by any one? Does someone from the village bring them to her?" The Hypnotist turns a wry smile towards his friend Briareus. "What do ye remember 'bout the Trojan War?"
The Hypnotist finishes up with the last of the would-be sacrifices. The poor girl had part of her scalp ripped clean by a skeleton. Thankfully, that seemed to be the worst of it.
"Good Knight! I will shephard the innocents. Get out there and put a hurting on those repulsive reprobates!"
Ach! Briareus!
Mac continues the ocular assault. His eyes sharpen, sending lullabilic rays to the craggy curmudgeon.
Hypnotic Gaze: Cumulative Affliction 8 (1st degree: Fatigued, 2nd degree: Exhausted, 3rd degree: Asleep, Resisted by: Will, DC 18; Cumulative, Increased Range 2: perception, Insidious)
A splattering of the Dreamtime's dancing lights solidify into a flying platform. The Hypnotist steps aboard it and into Sinclair's portal. He zips by into a tactical position while maintaining cover behind the rooftops.
"Ay, if it is time, allow me this prayer. It is one that has been spoken for 40,000 years and it would mean a lot for me to uphold that tradition." The Hypnotist sets out in the center of the group, feet firmly planted and hands outstretched. Swirls of the Dreamtime begin to well in his hands and dance around the room as he begins his prayer.
"Grace,"[b] the Hypnotist breaks from his contemplation, [b]"do not doubt yourself. You are young, yes, but you are far more capable than you think."
"A Trojan Horse of sorts may be a good idea, but at this point, I'd expect Una to be on high-alert. Either way, subterfuge may be our best friend in this endevour. Langfellow, that may mean holding off on conjuring the giant until the right moment. Is that something you feel comfortable with? If not, we can consider something else." I'd also like to add that we potentially have three ways of entry. Seven with the Key, Sinclair with spell, and I, with a bit of traveling through the Dreamtime."
The Hypnotist digs into the shawarma, watching the others as they eat and converse. If there was one thing he's learned from years of his profession, it's to observe, as people tend to show their true selves if you just observe. He made mental notes of each hero. Not on purpose, but out of professional habit. He finally breaks his silence, shawarma swinging freely in his hand as he speaks with a full mouth.
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