crescentview | the dreamer has nightmares

[ There's a long, long line of sylvari.

Though none look specifically like either Trahearne or Syrlya--no two look alike at all, in fact--M-21 knows what they are. He also will know that these are saplings. The newly awakened secondborn. The first new batch of sylvari in two years, since the first ones awakened. And they are they hope of their future.

But the facility they stand in is looking to quickly sap that hope away. Its clean gemoetric shapes and cold lights and sterile gleam methodically herd the children of nature into a large contraption in the middle. There is a buzz, a beep, and the unlucky sapling standing in the middle falls dead on the floor. A life gone before it could even blossom.

There's a frantic, anxious air in the room. It's coming from Trahearne. He looks over a large, extensive console from this elevated control room, desperately looking for the right button to push. M-21 stands beside him, and Trahearne looks at his neighbor in a panic. ]

How do I stop this?! [ His voice is unlike the calm in their initial meeting--quickly losing his cool. ] Please, help me!

[ Compared to the last nightmare he'd fallen into, for one disoriented moment M-21 could almost think this one was his. The harsh lights, the cold inorganic smell... it feels very like the lab he'd first woken up in. Enough that it takes him a second to absorb that the line of subjects aren't humans — former humans — at all. He's still processing that when the first sapling drops lifeless to the ground, and a jolt of nauseating familiarity goes through him. ]

What the hell...

[ Trahearne's voice snaps him out of his stupor. He looks frantically between the familiar face and the controls, hardly needing Trahearne's panic to spur on his own. Even if this were M-21's era of technology, finesse isn't exactly his strong point. ]

Just — just hit all of them! There must be a power source here somewhere.

[ He casts a gaze around looking for anything that he'd recognize as one. Breaking something has to be much faster than finding the right lever. ]

[ There are buttons of all sizes and colors, and Trahearne's hands hover over all of them in his frantic search. ]

But--but what if it kills more of them?! [ There is one button that is particularly red and particularly large. It sits towards the upper end of the console, near the observation window. Trahearne spots it, but hesitates.

He flinches visibly when he hears another chorus of screams from the saplings. He doesn't look up to watch. ] We can't afford to lose any more than we already have!

Then we can't just do nothing!

[ It's just a dream, he reminds himself. Even if it's the wrong choice. But the urgency in the air feels real.

Fine. If it's the wrong choice, he'll take the responsibility for it. Anything is better than just standing by and letting this happen. He reaches for the red button and slams his hand down on it, already wincing a little in anticipation. ]

[ The response is almost immediate. The lights throughout the facility immediately shut down, only to be replaced by a red warning light. It slowly blinks on and off, accompanied by the distant wailing of an alarm.

"Emergency shut-down initiate in lab Alpha Twenty One. All available personnel, please proceed to site for immediate response." ]

No!

[ Trahearne evidently knows what that means, and separates himself from the console to begin searching the control room for...something.

The saplings below, in the meanwhile, have begun to yell in fear, clinging to one another. ]

[ M-21 is glancing between the lab area and Trahearne anxiously, waiting for some kind of sign that that worked. Alarms in this case are good... right?

Apparently not. His breath hisses between his teeth in alarm. ]

What is it? What's happening?

[ He looks around reflexively, although it's not as if he can possibly help Trahearne search. Pressing more buttons on the console seems... probably like a worse idea. ]

They know we're here, and they're coming to stop us.

[ The panic is more measured in Trahearne's voice now. He's determined. He finds a thin pipe along the wall and mercilessly rips it from its fastenings. There's a hiss as whatever runs through it is disconnected. ]

But not if we save them first.

[ He marches back to the window and slams the pipe into it. The glass shatters. ]

Let's go!

[ And he jumps through into the room below. ]

[ "Who" or "why" would be reasonable questions to ask — but M-21 grasps the essential point here, which is that the nature of the problem has changed. Now, there's about to be something he can fight.

He shoots a brief look of surprise, turning quickly to muted appreciation, at Trahearne's pipe violence. "Stronger than he looks," yeah. ]

I'm with you.

[ He hops down after, reflexively lifting his hands to transform them into his claws. If the dream gave him a different body, he hasn't noticed yet. ]

[ Good. It's good knowing someone else has his back.

When they land, the saplings seem to calm a bit. They see Trahearne and gaze up at him in awe, and they look to M-21 with the same reverence and hope. Whatever M-21 is in this dream, they don't seem to mind. They see him as their salvation. ]

We'll get you out of here. [ Trahearne's voice is loud, but not the commanding sort he'd use with soldiers. It's the comforting, big brother voice. ] But it won't be easy. Those who can fight should be ready to do so.

[ He means M-21 as well. He shoots the other man a look, giving him a nod.

Just in time, too. The doors to the room suddenly snap open, and in flood an entire brigade of a diminutive, large-eared people all dressed in black and red, some accompanied by robots of larger size in the same colors.

Trahearne readies his pipe like a weapon. It's time to fight. ]

[ Ah, damn. No one's looked at him like that since he last got between the kids and a monster. He wasn't going to abandon Trahearne and these tree-kids to this weird nightmare regardless. But now, he really won't.

He leaves the reassuring speeches to Trahearne, who's better at them anyway. For his part--he sizes up the pipe Trahearne has, the sharpness of his own claws, and the opponents coming through the door. He gives Trahearne a nod in return. ]

I'll take the machines. You can handle... [ whatever the hell those things with ears are, which as a former-human would probably be rude to say ] --the rest.

[ Which is all the explanation he needs to give before he lunges. If he's lucky, this is one of those fights where he gets to claw things in half or throw things through walls, and not one of the ones where things throw him through walls. ]

[ Insulting the asura would be perfectly acceptable to Trahearne, considering how they're maiming and mutilating the saplings. They can get away with a few scathing words.

The firstborn is inexplicably pleased to see M-21 dash in first without much prodding. The asura and their golems, similarly, are caught by surprise to see such quick initiative. The golems aren't ready to attack when he rushes in, and will take a good few hits before their programming catches up, bidding them to lift their arms.

Trahearne, meanwhile, drags his hand along the floor as he rushes forward. The ground bruises in his wake, and disgusting little creatures made of rotting flesh and bone coalesce behind him. He whips the pipe in midair, skeletal arms bursting through the floor beneath one of the asura and grabbing them.

Some of the saplings join the fight, too. M-21 will find a couple of them come up beside him--fully formed, adult-sized plant people, but totally naked. Fists up. They're unarmed, but ready for a throwdown nonetheless, it seems. ]

[ M-21 hasn't fought opponents like these before, but damn does it feel good to just be able to tear into something. No overthinking, no puzzling over controls he doesn't understand or what he should do; just letting the transformation take over, or whatever the dream is doing. He doesn't care and he's not trying to process it as long as he gets to rend golem limbs from their bodies. He rains one attack after another down on them, dodging when they finally react so he can cast a quick glance over at where Trahearne is—

Calling for reinforcements. Apparently. M-21 bristles in alarm at the skeletal limbs clawing up for their opponents. There's no time in the middle of a fight to stop and stare. But from the looks of things Trahearne has things well in hand, and he can't help but remember Syrlya's voice saying warmly, "Oh, he is much more powerful on the battlefield than he seems.

Understatement of the year, it turns out. M-21 whirls back to his side of things, sizing up the unarmed saplings that have come up alongside him. He admires the spirit, but... ]

I'll make an opening. Hit them when I've got them distracted.

[ And he lunges in to do just that. Clunky, stone opponents? Please. ]

[ These clunky opponents stand no chance.

One of the golems only just manages to raise its arms when M-21 rushes in, knocking its oddly-proportioned body to the ground. The saplings at his side, good at following directions and desperateto get out of this alive, rush in to take advantage of the fallen golem and beat the shit out of it. Bare hands. Some seem to have magic, but it's crude. Whatever it is, though, it's working.

Another of the golems, left long enough for its program to run, begins spinning with alarming speed as it slowly marches towards M-21, aiming to knock him down with the momentum. Better dodge that, wolf boy!

In the meanwhile, Trahearne and his minions are making quick work of the more organic enemies. He seems almost...gleeful to be ripping these dudes in red and black apart. It should be kind of scary, tbh. ]

[ The saplings are berserkers after M-21's own heart. Kick the bastard golems while they're down, kids. He gives a smug little chuckle and turns to deal with the next opponent.

He's maybe a little bit too distracted appreciating his newly adopted pack, because he nearly fumbles his dex check and has to do a last-minute graceless roll out of the way. That's fine. He'll just go for the legs before he bounces up again, twice as mad as before and ready to do some rending and tearing.

...Which is still a lot less grotesque than what's going on on Trahearne's side of things. Soft-spoken, polite, gentle Trahearne sure is going all in with his zombie(?) minions. M-21's not squeamish, but he's distinctly reminded of Frankenstein. All that's wanting is a little cackling. Or some speeches. ]

...You've got things there?

[ One of the smaller minions leaps at the last batch of enemies and explodes in their midst. Rotten blood and guts and bone shards fly through the air like shrapnel, shredding the enemy to pieces. Blood splatters over Trahearne and the rest on his side, but he doesn't seem particularly bothered by it. A grin bursts across his face.

He's vaguely aware M-21 has said something to him, but what he says in response doesn't really answer his question. ]

The asura will pay for touching the secondborn.

[ He points behind M-21 to the last few golems. ]

Don't let your guard down. We've not finished giving them their lesson yet!

[ Rai does blood fields. That, alone, wouldn't be enough to ruffle M-21 in particular. But guts? Rotting? Bone shards?

M-21 wrinkles his poor werewolf nose at that -- hopefully not much more sensitive than a human's, or he's going to be feeling this dream for a while -- and whisks back around to the opponent he should be focusing on.

Damn, he's glad he picked the golems. ]

...Yeah. When we're done, they won't try this again.

[ And he flings himself right back to handling it. The golems are nicely inorganic, this fight uncharacteristically clean for what M-21's used to. ]

the dreamer has nightmares | closed

m-21 🍂

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