trans_9 | What dreams may come [Open, bendytimed to before GTFO plot]

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What dreams may come [Open, bendytimed to before GTFO plot]

In her sealed, silent, sensory-deprived meditation room, Roxie is sleeping. It's a special sleep: for all dreams are connected, she knows, and by spinning her mind out along the web of thought, she might step into others...

[Roxie is dream-hopping, getting a look at the subconsciousnesses of the other people on the ship. So, how it works - if you're interested, go ahead and post with a dream your character is having, and Roxie will slip into it, subtle at first but more obvious as she tries to satisfy her curiosity. Just her being around will make the dreamer more lucid and more likely to remember the whole thing when they wake up.

Also, feel free to ask any OOC questions in a thread here, or poke me on AIM at 'anagramarye'.]

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The girl dodges the fire but is knocked back from the blow, her face now smashed and ugly, and with that space between then, there's a stamp of Aang's foot against the ground and rocks swells up between Roxie and Christabella like its bursting through dead skin, curling around the latter girl in a wave. (Though he doesn't seem to be compressing it enough to crush her with it).

"Time to run again!" For a given measure of running. Metal pipe and impromptu staff in one hand, he grabs at Roxie's arm with the other.

"Come on! We can't kill it, only slow it down. It can't die because it's not alive--it's just taking faces from my memories."

She speeds up—no. He's slower than her now.

She turns, grabs his arms, and sweeps Aang off his feet, launching back into a full run once she's got a good grip on him in her arms. "Then where are we going?" she asks, entirely businesslike, despite the distinct lack of dignity of his current situation.

His response to being unceremoniously picked up like a baby by a girl with preternatural strength that's smaller him is: "Actually, I can, um--you know what? Never mind."

Okaay, so he's getting carried. She's running much faster than he could. His leg had been hurt pretty badly during this time until it'd be repaired later when the whole ordeal had ended.

"Go right at this street up here!"

There's a mountain there, and a tunnel. There's something scraping along the ground behind them. The sound of metal, but heavier this time. Aang's eyes go wide as he sees what's following them.

"Don't look back and go right reallyreallyreallyreally fast!" He holds out a hand to lessen the wind resistance around them both so Roxie can run faster.

Roxie doesn't look. It's not because he said not to—it's because it doesn't matter if she does. Either she'll outrun or she won't... and if she won't, she can get a look at it then.

Instead, she runs. She's starting to reach the limit of what she can manage and still have some degree of traction.

They're through, into the dark, and the scraping fades behind them. There are voices around them, whispers, in the same kinds of voices as the doctors, but more pleading.

"--the ohm threat--"

"--please help us--"

"--deepest apologies for your ill treatment--"

"--desperation--"

"--cooperation--"

"--worlds dying--"

"--life ending--"

"--help us fight--"

"--please help us fight--"

Aang gets...heavier. There's a light at the end of the tunnel, and Aang says, in a somewhat deeper voice now, in the dark:

"Put me down! I can run now."

Roxie half-skids, slowing down enough that she can let her momentary passenger down. She's starting to breath hard, now. She can run, still, but that burst of speed has left her a little slower than she was.

"What next?" she hisses.

"Uh. I know there's been -- a lot of it--" Even he's a little winded and he's freaking kung fu Tibetan Jesus. "But unfortunately..."

How does he break this to you, Roxie?

"...We have to keep running."

Sorry.

"But we're almost there! When we clear the tunnel, don't stop. Don't worry about me, I'm just memories, just thoughts. I can't be hurt, so I'll hold them off! If you make it over the bridge and through the door, you'll be safe."

They're out in the sunshine again, and Aang is older now, perhaps sixteen, only slightly younger than he had been in Katara's dream. He's wearing one of the ship's plantsuits, but with some sort of light armor affixed, that looks like it could repel projectiles and maybe even plasma fire, but is light enough for him to still stay very mobile. His limp is gone, though that one leg is noticeably weaker to one who's perceptible enough to notice such things. In his hand, he carries a different staff than the others he's carried along the way--this one is made of some kind of light metal instead of wood.

They're on a dusty alien world with a sky bluer than it rightly should be. The sun is up, low in the sky, and at the same time two moons are rising. They're in the massive bowl of some sort of crater, with rocky scrags jutting up, and streams of water running between the rocks. Aang licks his finger as he runs and holds it up into the air to check the breeze, and his expression twists up into the slightest of grins.

Conditions for Bending are, shall we say, slightly on the side of good.

The ground starts to rumble, and crawling over the cliff sides into the bowl-shaped valley are foggy shadow creatures, outlines of something insectoid. The shadows are unnatural in the light of such a bright sun, but that chasing shadow is causing it, in them now, using them as yet one more vessel to follow Roxie.

Up ahead is a stone bridge across a crevasse, and across from it is a huge formless building, one that reaches far, far up into the sky, with a massive open door.

Okay. Target.

Roxie starts running. She has endurance left, but she's... pushing it. She's used to taking breathers, hiding under or behind things long enough to start recovering, getting pauses between enemies—but she doesn't have that now.

Aang is forgotten, at least for anything but the extent he can protect her. It's how she works. The unpleasant things just get shaken straight out of her mindset, and she focuses on the more important matters at hand—like her own life and death.

And she's fast, but... that might not be good enough, with the bugs starting to pour in, moving like a wave over the sides. And there are dark fields of wings starting to fill the edges of the sky...

"Keep moving and like I said, don't look back! Get through the door no matter what!"

Aang peels off to turn back around and face the stampeding bug-beasts racing towards like them in a wave of death, intending to buy Roxie time. It's the kinda thing that should probably have some kinda theme song (http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bsppp2JGJFY) to it. Really.

Jumping up on one of the rocky pillars he takes a deep breath, centering himself, and then? Then he starts to move. Dropping into a horse stance, he starts stamping his feet and making sharp, solid gestures of his arms, and the entire canyon rumbles as walls of earth rise up, causing the bugs to slam into them.

He jumps to another pillar with the wind carrying him, and a sweep of his arms has the streams winding together in the air and then flowing towards the remaining bug-things in a massive wave, that sweeps them back and freezes them in place.

Though he's not in the Avatar State, the way the valley rumbles and shakes, and the winds sweep through, the flow of the water, and the occasional arc of fire--it's all a testament to his power, and to his control.

The first boy that Roxie had been helped by had just been a child, the second had still been one, a fearful boy that dealt with enemies--and his destiny--by running. But over time, he had changed, and Roxie got to see those changes.

This is different. Who he is now is different.

She doesn't see it. She's too focused to turn—but she hears it, the roars of the wind and the water, the way the earth shakes under her. Power. Not the power of the god, but the power of the man is incredible.

And that's a half of the problem eliminated, but there is another part: for the winged ones are sweeping in. And he can attack them, but Roxie is in the way of clearing out the most dangerous concentration, as swarms flow in like water towards the bridge she has to cross.

The pieces fall into place. If she keeps going she's going to get bogged down. And he will, too, trying to save her. The bridge is a delicate point. If she gets knocked away, she might not be able to get back.

She keeps running. But, no—why can't there be another way?

A little part of her clicks through the gears. "

" she says, softly, as she speeds towards the bridge. They're already starting to block it. If he attacks, she'll be in the line of fire. No, she can't just keep running. It's a square peg and a round hole... so shave the corners off.

"

" she says, louder—and then, almost shouting, "

"

The seams of her jacket come undone, billowing into red cloth around her. The cloak, but longer, thicker, flowing like a living thing with her movements. She runs. Almost to the bridge—

She jumps into the crevasse.

Aang's brief check over his shoulder to see if Roxie's making it turns into a double-take with his jaw dropping open.

"Aaah!"

For long, long moments, the only is the rhythmic thrum of the bugs as they swarm down into the crevasse, like a living heartbeat.

There is a rumble in the earth—one not caused by Aang.

There is–

A red-scaled dragon (http://i38.tinypic.com/15wdlrr.jpg) the size of a small train roars up past the bridge, slamming through the swarming bugs like an axe through cardboard. It swoops around the bridge once, twice, and then—

In through the massive door, all at once.

She passes through a wooden gate and finds herself in a new place. The gate is on a mountainside, made of ice, that shines in the sun. Despite the ice, the air isn't cold. The winds here are warm and light, and smell faintly of lotus blossoms, just like the air had smelled back at the temple where she'd first appeared in this place.

A trail leads up through a short pass, and from it is the sound of running water--a waterfall perhaps. The breeze pushes her towards the pass.

She had trusted him, when he said she would be safe here. She hopes, really hopes, that he was telling the truth...

She stumbles forward on two legs. Herself, again, cloak wrapped around her, though the fabric is tattered and stretched. She's drained herself more than she really should have with that little indulgence.

Roxie makes her way towards the pass, pausing every so often to try and recover her breath, though her breathing stays shallow and uneven. Though her face is healed, under the dried blood speckled across it, it's sallow and shadowed.

The pass opens up to a peaceful glade. This is the source of the water running along the sides of the trail. A high waterfall runs behind the glade, creating a calm pool that eventually opens up to two streams running off. An island with fragrant flowering plants rests in the center, with two small, wooden bridges that lead to it, and in the center of this little green island is an even smaller pool of water.

In the smaller pool on the island, two small fishes swim in gentle circles, one of them black with white markings, the other white with black markings.

And sitting behind it is Aang.

Seeing him in his present state, sitting still, makes it all that much easier to see that he clearly has been through much. His right arm, that had been bandaged when he was in that horrible foggy town, is covered in burn scars, and some parts of the tattoo there are brighter than others, where it had to be redone. The burns go all the way up to his shoulder, which is visible due to the cut of his simple saffron robes. He's somewhere around sixteen or seventeen years old now--and looks exactly as he did when he showed up in Katara's dream before.

(Roxie, you've now caught up to the present).

However, despite this, despite the snapshots of horror Roxie's seen of his recent past, despite the fact that the enemy that had chased her is apparently not new to him at all, as he sits there in a lotus position, his expression is utterly serene. He's completely at peace with his surroundings, and seemingly unaware of Roxie's presence.

The breeze that urged Roxie here sweeps through this place, a little piece of home for the young monk, grounding him in his roots. But in this place, where he feels safe, where he is centered in his own mind, water in all its forms is the element that reigns supreme, granting this place a serenity that seems to pervade all.

This is because of her, because she's protected him, healed him, broken him free from his sleep in the iceburg. Water is a whipcrack at an enemy, ice shields blocking incoming blasts of searing fire, water is the comfort of healing hands. Water is her home, and so, it's now his. Now it protects him from the enemy constantly besieging the gates of his consciousness, constantly prying into his dreams.

There's silence as Roxie approaches, and then, without opening his eyes, Aang says, "You're Katara's friend."

One eye opens, and his expression is very, very wry, as if he's laughing at some internal joke.

"Do you always ride on strange animals without thinking about the consequences?"

Roxie moves slowly, slowly along the glade—time which, she hopes, he'll understand. Ground in the rules of the human form, here, her body softly aches, and her loss of energy is more than just a physical one.

She takes the left-hand bridge, but she pauses halfway across, looking down at the water. Her reflection is a rippling shadow—something all of herself, not to do with those things stuck at the gates. It is one of her confirmations, her little reminders woven into her dream-stuff. A shadow reflection, an impossibly brilliant moon, or a black-in-white sun...

The little island is nice. The water is not what she would choose, but as it ripples around her, she can feel the comforting, guarding presence.

And then—the question.

"... only when the opportunity presents itself," Roxie says back, voice very dry.

"While I can definitely understand how fun it is..."

The other eye opens.

"You reeeally have to be careful of his traps. The nightmare-birds are just one of them. He'll pull you away out of the ship's spirit world and take you away to bad places. Anyone that can walk dreams is a threat to him--he's afraid to be discovered."

"And who is 'he'?"

Roxie sits awkwardly, legs sprawled out. She doesn't have the reserve left to pull herself into a graceful position without putting more effort into it than she'd like to.

"The king," Aang says, matter-of-factly. "In the stone. He wants to be free, and he wants to drive everyone on the ship insane and then kill them all. He doesn't value life at all. He sees everyone else as something less than even an insect."

A pause.

"In the 'I don't care about insects' way. See, I like bugs, and I was taught that people should value the life of even the tiniest spider-fly, but he's like one of those people that sees bugs as nothing, except he sees people as nothing, too, so I guess bugs are even less than nothing to him."

Edited 2009-10-21 03:59 (UTC)

"Does this king have a name?" An honest question, not condescension. She's heard tales about literally Unspeakable beings, things that just to speak the name of was to draw their attention and, subsequently, other, far more horrible things.

The little digression about insects has left her looking kind of confused, though.

"He has a thousand forms, and many names. It wouldn't be good for you to know any of them, though," says Aang. "He's looking for cracks, for ways in, for...empty spaces waiting for him. You're better off not knowing his name."

The digression about bugs is just Aang being Aang, Roxie. Don't worry too much about it--he just has a short attention span, sometimes.

"He's a King of Nightmares, waking and sleeping."

He'd say another name, for a different kind of king that the horrible being sometimes takes the form of that might give Roxie some clues, but no such type of ruler exists in his world.

Roxie's face is serious--well, as serious as ever, but her thoughts are well-ordered behind the facade, too.

"What ways do you know of to fight his influences?" There is always a way to fight the bad things, the instincts hammered into her soul tell her. Even if it might not be an obvious one.

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What dreams may come [Open, bendytimed to before GTFO plot]

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