(2018-11-28) This One's Mine
This One's Mine
Summary: Callisto happens upon Shades' nightmare. (Dreamscene)
Date: 2018-11-28
Related: NA
Scene Runner: NA

TP Room 3
Wed Nov 28, 2018



It is very dark.
"Hello?" Shades calls out.
It is very dark. The ground is slick, concrete covered in a thin layer of grease or oil. There is a smell of garbage, of moldering food and discarded things.
"Hello!" His shout is louder this time.
It is very dark. The sound of Shades' steps across the oilly nothingness splish and echo loudly, although there do not seem to be walls. There is a buzzing sound, flies.
"I'm not afraid of you!" Shades screams at no one.
It is very dark.

<FS3> Callisto rolls Psychic: Great Success.
<FS3> Callisto rolls Dreamweave: Great Success.

There are two ways in which Callisto can enter the dreaming minds of others. The first way is a bit awkward, especially given the security features of these new dorms: being alongside someone while they sleep. Difficult unless she knows them well… also creepy. Callisto isn't a creep. So she does not become aware of Shades' predicament in that manner.. no, it's by way of the other. Slightly less reliable but nonetheless effective. However tonight she is 'on point', shall we say. She went to bed with a marvelously clear mind — always the case after good meditation — and this is what ultimately brings to bear her… regard.

Upon the ether of the dreamplain she 'floats', unseen and unfelt unless she wills it. Powerful psychic shields and influence allow this. Like a transmission from a radio station, Callisto can hear 'shouting' and her dream-self 'turns' toward the sounds. A thought, an intent… and the graceful dark faerie 'enters' Shades' nightmare but does nothing, says nothing…. not yet. She settles unseen in the acute darkness of the mental space, waiting.

Shades spins around in the dark, weirdly, starkly illuminated. His sunglasses are missing, and his eyes look like pools of ink. A spotlight clicks on, shining down from the nebulous above, highlighting a woman being threatened by a masked mugger, a gun aimed and at the ready. "No!" Shades shouts, running towards the scene. "Don't!" The mugger turns, takes careful aim at Shades. The gun fires, the explosion resounding in the echoing murk, and the woman slumps down, gut-shot. Both vanish into dark smoke as Shades gets within arms reach. It is very dark, and the coppery smell of blood joins the miasma of garbage. "You couldn't have done anything," Shades says, as if to himself.

In the spotlight, Shade's shadow grows longer, almost reaching the edge of the pool of light, and then begins to pull itself off the ground. Seeing it is like watching the new moon on a clear night, distinguishing between different, subtle tints of darkness. It is taller than Shades now, taller by nearly a foot. Lean. There's a slash of a bright white toothed smile. "Of course not, Corbin. You aren't cut out for being a hero."
A circle of firelight kindles, revealing the outlines of scrub grass and scattered trees. Half-glimpsed figures are looking out from the fire, eyes gleaming like cats. Shades, dressed in some kind of helmet, is curled on the ground. The figures near the fire start to stalk towards him, like monstrous hunting cats.
"Look at that. Pathetic," the shadow-Shades says. Shades watches himself from the outside, as other figures in gleaming white charge around himself, fighting the cats. There is a roaring sound now, as if a monstrous waterfall has suddenly burst a dam nearby. "And even when you try to help, what can do you?" Shades spins, throwing a fist at the shadow, which naturally passes through without effect. "Watch. Sneak. Save yourself. Oh yes, you'll be a fine hero."

(NOTE: Here, we decided that +rolls were no longer needed.)

Now Callisto does recall a marked fascination, in the waking world, that Shades harbours for superheroes. As Callisto steps further into her own inner Light, she — more and more — feels badly to 'intrude' upon peoples' dreams and the memories within. Once upon a time she cared less; now it's the intrusion into a very private moment. Where one's fears, shortcomings… all of those secret, self-flagellating things are laid bare. It's hard to hide things in the subconscious. So here Callisto is 'seeing' Shades' … Corbin's.. crux. The shadow emerges and goes on to talk down to Shades, saying those terrible things. Then her regard switches over to what appears to be a 'test', illuminated by firelight. Callisto's eyes narrow and she continues to war with her own intention.

She can at least try to 'help' the boy on, somewhat, as he appears intent on fighting this baleful shadow of himself. She watches Shades swipe ineffectually at the shadow and that is all the cue that Callisto needs. She is not so naive as to assume that light needs to be brought to bear here. Instead she concentrates, wills a semblance of her own voice into the dreamscape.. garbled but still pleasant to the ears. With it comes a sense of.. encouragement. Rightness.

"Do not listen to it. Heroes operate in a great many ways and you are learning. Do not let this insult take root in you. Will it away!" Says the fey's voice, though she yet remains obscure.

Shades charges through the shadow, screaming again as he does so, and flailing into the dark beyond the spotlight. The campfire spits and flares, becoming a torch, then a towering inferno in the shape of the lighthouse. The wave of heat that accompanies the flare is almost a physical thing, battering like a fist, and the smell of smoke is acrid. Three figures stand in front of it; a woman, a young girl, and the shadow from before. The girl's eyes are the same ink-pools as Shades' own. Both are dressed in colonial clothing, long wool dresses and shawled against the cold of the island's winter. The shadow-figure walks away into the dark, as the woman and girl are consumed by the fire, skin crackling and peeling without saying a word, adding the reek of burning flesh and the sizzle of melting fat.
The shadow-figure reappears behind Shades, both turned towards the lighthouse. "You think you're the first? You think you could have done better?" It turns, and grins at Callisto, teeth looking like a gash in the darkness. "Oh, I'll be leaving shortly… whoever you are. Nightmare's power is mostly exhausted by now. But I needed to make sure little Corbin had plenty to think about."

Oh God. NOW Callisto's mind finds purchase and rather than observe and hide herself, she 'wills' herself into view. Not to startle or crash the macabre scene but… her becoming visible is as much of an objection to what this creature is doing to Shades as it is a show of support to the boy. She narrows her eyes at the horrific display of the burning duo and turns her gaze back to Shades (observing) and the shadow-figure. "You've support in waking, Shades, people who shall aide you in understanding all of this. And especially, how to be a hero. So," She grates out, her words clipped and short, further sign of Callisto's anger. "Shades, this creature shall not leave of it's own accord.. we shall OUST it." Even if the verbal damage has already been done, Callisto stares hard at Shades. "I shall aide you; not try to do it for you but help you attempt it yourself. Pay this creature no further mind tonight and oust it!"

THere, Callisto's own influence upon the dreamscape begins to enmesh itself into the nightmare.. it can be 'felt' there at the edges, much like the firelight in it's presence, quivering and waiting to be utilized. But Callisto does not 'help' unless it is accepted.. and if Shades gives the go ahead… she will try to 'push' the nightmare away as the boy hopefully attempts to go against the shadow one more time.

Shades looks away from the burning tower, and towards Callisto. His eyes are no longer empty pools of darkness, but seem filled with the darkness of night, tiny pinpoints of starlight gleaming out. "Yes," he replies. And then begins to inhale.
It is very dark, but the darkness seems to gain substance, more like a thick mist. The burning tower, the circle of firelight, greasy floor, all become ghostly projection cast into that mist. As Shades inhales, it begins to twist around him, into him, a whirlpool of darkness. The shadow-figure alone is unaffected, still looking more like a cutout silhouette against the flickering background. It's smile vanishes, and it steps back from the boy, glancing with a wary posture between Shades and Callisto.
As the mist-dark pulls in to Shades, it leaves behind sterile white… void. Nothingness. Shades himself grows darker, less solid, as if becoming composed of the darkness as he inhales it. Until there is only the shadow-creature, and Shades-shadow. Which is when Shades-shadow reaches out, snagging the arm of the shadow-thing, and begins to crumple it like a wad of used tissue.

Brilliant. Callisto watches in awe, even as she lends that peculiar sort of strength.. and she does nothing more than that. She is focusing, ready to 'turn the page' should Shades need it… other otherwise just allow him to do as he must to banish this terrible presence from his head. "T'is poison to listen to this being's words, nightly. To awaken poisoned from it. T's but words and vapor and that which you can surpass." She dictates, lashes fluttering closed. Shades has it from here; she merely remains stable and there.

Eyes open again and the faerie observes what is hopefully the vanquishing of the jeering shade, watching the thing being twisted and crumpled up like so much refuse. Despite herself and the trouble roiling in her belly at the earlier sight of the burning woman and child, Callisto smiles with approval. Now that is a hero!

Shades floats on the white void, a shadow cast against water.
It rolls, thunder in a midnight summer storm, cracks with cold that shatters trees. It is slow and old. It is sharp as winter frost and knapperd stone knives.
If Shades hears the voice, he gives no sign. Looking to be peacefully gazing upwards.

Family curse? Not just due to a baleful spirit or anything quite so forward but.. a curse by way of inherited powers? Callisto watches the floating boy as he gazes peacefully and yet, she listens to the presence as it spews forebode everywhere. Callisto listens, her brows drawn and lips pressed tightly together. Here, now, is where she must concentrate harder… not to vanquish a malicious entity but.. instead.. try to will Shades toward awakening. Flip the breaker, so-to-speak!

Callisto is fantastic at poker faces and here, even in dreaming, hers is a sound one. Even as her mind yet thrums with the terrible words, her eyes — a pale bluish silver in the dreamscape — flit toward the floating boy. "Patterns are made to be broken." A simple thought, and with a great push from her own mind.. she focuses all of her intent and regard upon that floating dream-likeness of Shades, and attempts to shove him toward wakefulness.

Ever feel a jolt just as you're about to fall asleep? When your body moves abruptly and suddenly as if startling and falling? That is called a hypnic jerk and should Shades awaken as a result of Callisto's mental 'shove', this is what will precede it.

Shades jerks, eyes flying open. His bed is flooded in light, with heavy blankets surrounding it for the comfort of his roommate. He gropes for a moment towards his sunglasses, and to flick the switch on the overhead lamp, and finally picks up his phone, opens it, groans at the 'too little to be well rested, too late to go back to sleep' hour, and begins crawling towards a semi-balance of preparation for the day, shaking his head, trying to clear it of the weirdness.

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