trans_9 | I can feel the madness slowly creeping in...

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I can feel the madness slowly creeping in...

It is that time again, meatship.

Once again, the King of Nightmares has deigned to spread his touch to all of your dreams.

This time, however, he has decided to give them a much more personal touch, sending his very own children to visit each and every one of you, slowly sowing the seeds of madness within all of you.

Such a kind and loving king he is, isn't he?

[ooc: Alright folks, Nightmare King is ramping things up a bit. These nightmares are a good bit more dangerous now, and he's sending in his minions to make things a little more real. The nightmares will be of a much more serious nature this time, designed to start driving the crew slowly insane. Characters are more likely to run into nightmare minions in the guise of someone or something that will tug at the edges of their sanity. Also, this time, the characters can have joint dreams, as these nightmares are of a more mystical nature this time. Once again, tagging in isn't mandatory, but if you want to, go crazy (literally)!]

[Additional Note: Any injuries won't be carrying over to real life at this point in the plot but don't worry, we'll get there eventually!]

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Where nightmares tend to be memory more often than not, the battlefield is not an unfamiliar sight. How many times had Sheik died here in the space of a few months? Five times? Six, perhaps?

A sword through the ribs, an unstoppable, inescapable wall of fire, capture and execution by the enemies that his war-weary mind could no longer distinguish from his allies - how many companions had he seen die before him? How many bodies had he uncovered that had been friends?

And now there were two more to join them - two heads of strawberry blonde hair, two pairs of blank blue eyes, pristine violet and worn green untouched by the mud and dust and blood of this place. The Master Sword is inches from Link's lax fingers; Zelda's crown lies shattered on her forehead.

Numbly, Sheik drops to his knees between them, gathering their cold hands in his own, unable to prevent an anguished sob from escaping. He had loved Zelda beyond that a guardian should feel for their guarded, loved Link beyond that a guide should feel for their charge, and now they were... were...

A hand closes over his wrist, the gauntlet it was clad in enough to snap the bones of his wrist like twigs. Sheik gives an involuntary agonised gasp, recoiling, but the hand is holding on too tightly for escape. And even if that wasn't the case, the instant he sees the face of his captor, he freezes utterly.

"Why did you do it, Sheik?" Link asks, tone utterly monotone, eyes still glazed and dead. He's still lying there, unmoving except for the damning words from his lips and the vice-like hand around his wrist.

"I was counting on you, Sheik," Zelda says now, but her face is turned towards him, blue eyes accusing. Tugging again futilely at the arm in Link's grip, he shakes his head violently in denial.

"No... I didn't," he whispers voicelessly, "I couldn't..."

Now, Link is moving - jerkily, like a puppet on a string, closing the fingers of his other hand around Sheik's throat. "It's your fault, Sheik," he continues in that monotone, pressing icy lips to Sheik's before starting to tighten his grip. "Your hands are stained with our blood."

And he can't even scream a denial with Link's hand around his throat, can only watch as Zelda picks up the bloodstained blade he recognises as his own and approaches like a cat on the prowl, can only squeeze his eyes shut and never see the true princess, his own princess, in the form of a powerless ghost watching in horror from behind...

Edited 2010-01-17 10:09 (UTC)

Bodies of the fallen lay scattered on the field, blood pooling and darkening the plaids and kilts of the Scotsmen that have been slaughtered that day. Flies crawl over the corpses, slow and bloated with their feast.

Red-clad soldiers move through the bodies, checking to make sure they are dead. A figure stirs and moans in pain, drawing the attention of one of the British. There is a mocking sneer on the Redcoat's face as he takes his sword and drives it into the other man's flesh, and the last sight the Scotsman sees is himself reflected in cruelly glinting eyes.

A young man wearing a red kilt and plaid hunkers down behind a small hillock and watches. Most of the soldiers have moved away from the area, but his eyes catch a glimpse of one that seems to be trying to strangle the life out of someone - unusually cruel, even for a Redcoat. And a second is coming in with a sword.

There's something off about the scene. Then the young man realizes - the Scot who is being strangled looks fairly uninjured. If he can just even the odds, the man might stand a chance. "Ye'll not kill that Scot today," he hisses, and draws his weapon.

Jamie jumps out from behind the hillock, claymore swinging in a deadly arc over his head as he charges the Redcoats. From his throat bursts a familiar cry.

"Creag an tuire!"

Edited 2010-01-17 11:46 (UTC)

He doesn't recognise the call - all he knows is that he's free, Link's twin grips on his wrist and his throat slacking enough for escape to be possible. Whirling around, he aims a kick at the hand of Zelda's that was holding his blade; it spins out of her hand and clatters against the ground. Darting back to retrieve it, he scoops it up in his left hand (his right dangles limply, uselessly), then turns back to his own private battlefield.

And finds his opponents back in the embrace of death, his saviour the only living thing he can now see. For just an instant, he sees a green tunic instead of red plaid; but then the vision fades and he just sees Jamie.

"I know you," he whispers, and there's a spark of a memory of a... a place other than this hell. "I know you, don't I?"

And still, from a distance, the ghost of a girl watches in silence, gloved hands raised to her mouth as if to smother a silent scream.

((OOC: Jamie to the rescue! Anyway, I'm off to bed, will grab replies in the morning :) ))</font

That was too easy. He had gone in, ready to attack, and the Redcoats had just...fled. Jamie didn't understand it. The Scot he had freed seemed mostly okay, but he could tell that one hand was broken. He was about to suggest getting off the battlefield before the Redcoats returned, when the other man spoke.

He knows me? Jamie looks at the man with utterly blank eyes, eyes that hold no recognition whatsoever.

"I..."

A frisson of fear traveled down his spine, and Jamie spun around on his feet in reaction. Too far away for them to hear, a Redcoat had cocked his gun, and now was raising the musket and preparing to fire on them.

"Get down!" He threw himself flat on the ground, and the bullet - meant for Jamie - whistled harmlessly over his head. A curl of smoke came from the musket before being caught by a small breeze and dissipating.

Jamie pushed himself to his feet. "Och, try to murder a McCrimmon, will ye?" For a moment, he's about to run the Redcoat down with his sword, then catches a glimpse of the other man, the one he was trying to save.

He knows me. Jamie blinks, and memory reasserts itself.

"Sheik?" he says in confusion. "What are ye doing at Culloden?"

"...Jamie." That was his name, wasn't it? "I... what's Culloden? This is..."

But, no. It's not a nameless battlefield in Hyrule any more, but an amalgamation of both, the bodies of Scots mingling with the bodies of Hylians and Sheikah. And now their enemies have combined, too - Redcoats and Dinolfos, armed with jagged daggers and muskets both.

And, up on the ridge, both are posed and ready to attack. "I suggest we run," he says as calmly as he can, pointing up at the grouped enemies on the ridge with the hand holding the blade.

And then he has to duck to one side as a musket bullet flies through where his head was an instant ago.

Jamie takes one good look at the Dinolfos and boggles a little - he's never seen anything like them before. "Aye," he agrees heartily. "Running is a good plan." As the crack of a musket is heard, he mentally adjusts it to an 'excellent' plan, and takes off, hoping Sheik will follow and not go in a different direction.

Something is tugging at the back of his mind, though, something about the situation. How can this be happening? It's almost as if...

"Am I dreaming?" It feels like he's awake, but there's just enough off that he's beginning to think he's not.

Even so, he can hear the sounds of enemies behind him, so asleep or awake, he's going to continue with the running.

Dreaming? Perhaps - there are dim memories of this battlefield, and they didn't involve Link and Zelda, or Jamie, or the Redcoats. "A shared dream?" he asks as he keeps pace with Jamie, broken wrist tucked against his chest to minimise any jarring motion. "Perhaps. I remember this place, and -"

And he remembers that gap in the rock, so he grabs Jamie's arm and tugs him hard towards it, and the rock seals itself smoothly over to hide them, to keep them safe. Nearby, a torch flares into brightness, revealing a small entrance chamber with a long dark tunnel ahead of them.

"I remember this place," he says quietly, leaning against a wall to get his breath back, "And you were not there." No, Jamie didn't belong in Hyrule, he belonged in Scotland, but Sheik had never been there, and so...

"...The ship. The Nightmare King."

Congratulations, Sheik and Jamie, you've just achieved lucid dreaming.

Jamie tilts his head back against the cool stone of the chamber, gulping in breaths of air. He definitely does not recognize the chamber, and Sheik clearly does. That coupled with everything else means...

"He's getting stronger." He rubs at his forehead unhappily. That's not good. Not good at all. He takes a few more breaths - this time to try and shove down the little curl of fear that's threatening to work its way up to the surface. It won't do anything other than serve the Nightmare King's purposes, and he's determined to fight it.

As he looks over towards Sheik, his glance falls to the wrist tucked against his chest.

"Is it broken?"

He nods once, already searching for sticks to use as a splint. "The gauntlet that Li-- that the thing that looked like Link had, it gives the wearer immense strength," he says quietly, locating something that looks sturdy enough then struggling to unwrap the bandages around his forearms without too much pain. "He didn't have them, yet, at the point I was taken from - I only knew of them."

From Zelda, as it was -- and then he stops abruptly. If he's caught in a dream, then surely she still is, as well?

"We have to get out of here," he says softly. "The tunnel leads to a secret base under the hill - there's an entrance on the other side. We have to find someone."

Alright, that's probably enough bandage. Still, looking at the awkward angle his wrist is at... "This won't be fun," he mutters.

While Sheik is taking off enough bandages for his splint, Jamie sets the claymore down and takes the time to slip his plaid off of his shoulder. He can't unwrap it completely without taking the kilt off too, but he is able - with the help of his knife - cut off a decently sized piece of the tartan and still leave enough that he can slip the remnants back in place. He makes his way over with the cloth in hand.

"Aye, likely not," he comments. "But I think I can do it a wee bit faster than ye can at the moment." And since he has no idea how long they can safely stay here, the faster Sheik's broken wrist is splinted, the better.

"Just tell me what ye need me to do."

"...Are you any good at setting bones?" he asks dryly, deliberately not looking at the rather nauseating angle his wrist is at. ...Wait. "If this is just a dream, then why won't it fix itself?" he frowns, staring at it as he wills it to go back to normal.

Sighing, Sheik settles himself crosslegged on the ground, leaning back against the wall for support, and carefully feels the break. A clean break, in each bone of his forearm - he'd have to set both.

"When they're back in place," he asks Jamie carefully as he hands him the bandages he's managed to get off and the sticks he's managed to find, "Can you wrap my wrist? It has to be done securely, and I can't do that one-handed." At least, not without a great amount of pain.

"If I was, do ye think I would have asked ye to tell me what to do?" Jamie says honestly. "I can fashion ye a sling out of the tartan, though." He frowns as well. "I don't know. Roxie said something once that ye might be able to learn how to control the dream but I havena gotten past the figuring out if I'm in one or not part."

In other words, he would have no idea how to fix the broken bone, other than try to set it. Before he begins, though, he offers his knife over to Sheik.

"Ye may want to bite down on this." He's completely sure of one thing - whether or not he can do this, it's going to hurt like hell while he tries.

He takes a deep breath. "Here goes nothing," he says, and starts trying to straighten out Sheik's wrist.

Even prepared for it, even biting down on the hilt of Jamie's knife, even having gone through more painful things before, it still hurts. A lot. But finally, Sheik can feel the bones click back in to place, and the pain eases - a little.

Pulling the knife away, he sets it down and leans back against the wall, a little clammy-looking. "Ouch," he says faintly, reaching for the rolls of bandages and handing them to Jamie. "Could you start it off? I can probably finish wrapping it."

And as soon as they do, he's heading back out there to find his princess.

Jamie nods, but keeps an eye on Sheik while he's wrapping the wrist - just to make sure he isn't about to pass out.

Once Sheik indicates that he can take over on that task, Jamie works on fashioning the tartan into a sling that can be used to support the wrist and arm, then retrieves both knife and claymore.

"Are there lights in the tunnel, or should I grab the torch before we go?" He's looking back at the sealed over entranceway a touch nervously, and seems anxious to get going.

Task finally done, Sheik struggles to his feet, reaching for his blade with his left hand. "There should be," he says quietly, "Although I do not believe the Nightmare King would be so kind."

Yes - not even his eyes can spot pinpricks of light in the tunnel ahead. He knows it bends at one point, but even still... "We should take it with us and go," he confirms. And hope it doesn't go out, he silently adds.

The sooner they can leave, the sooner he can find Zelda. He's sure she's still out there, somewhere, trapped in a nightmare. Quietly, barely realising he has spoken, he adds, "And then we can wake up."

Jamie re-sheathes his knife, then reaches up to grab the torch. He is also hoping it will stay lit - he'd really rather not have to try and navigate some strange tunnel by feel.

"Aye, well, I'd like to wake up now." He pauses for a moment, then looks down at himself and sighs heavily. Nope. Still here. "Och, I was hoping that would work. C'mon, Sheik. Let's go."

Sword in one hand, torch in the other, he steps into the tunnel and to whatever awaits them.

Keese, mostly, and rats. As the pool of light from the torch approaches, the keese scatter, flying towards them and becoming easy prey for Sheik's throwing needles. Once, one gets past and flies straight for Jamie's face; it finds itself blocked by a wall of solid shadow and falls, dead, to the ground.

"This is too easy," Sheik murmurs as they reach a twisted spire of rock that signifies the approximate half-way mark, "These are hardly an obstacle. What sort of a nightmare is this?"

Quite possibly, he's jinxed it now.

"I don't know. Maybe the Nightmare King stopped paying attention?" Jamie comments, sounding hopeful.

The torch abruptly flickers, then flares brightly before dwindling to the faintest of flames. At the same time, he starts coughing, as the oxygen in the tunnel is depleted and replaced with a noxious smelling substance.

"Ye had to say it was too easy, didn't ye?" Jamie manages to get out, in between coughing fits.

There's a stirring in the depths of the darkness, further down the tunnel, and a giant figure appears to detach itself from the shadows. From what can be seen in the dim light, it has clawed appendages, each easily big enough to hold a human. Beady eyes glint atop large eye-stalks. And Jamie clearly recognizes what it is, as his eyes go wide in horror.

"Macra!"

It begins to advance menacingly towards them, just as the torch sputters and goes out.

Edited 2010-01-19 09:55 (UTC)

"Oh. Run!"

Unbroken hand reaching for Jamie's (where had the blade gone?), Sheik starts down the tunnel, broken arm slipping out of his sling to feel his way along the shadows. He can deal with the pain later - right now, he needs to find the way out.

Preferably without passing out from pain and hypoxia first.

And honestly, if he hadn't said it, it probably would have happened anyway. ...He thinks.

Jamie follows after, trying to get enough of a breath in so he can speak. He's having a difficult time of it, though, as he's still coughing badly.

"Gas...poison..." He has to stop and lean against the wall as his head starts to swim. Behind them, the Macra makes its slow way towards them, the sound of its chitinous body scraping against the rock echoing eerily down the tunnel.

"Human," Jamie manages to get out. The gas is toxic to humans. It might not affect Sheik as badly.

There's a faint light coming from somewhere now, even though the torch is extinguished. He can see where Sheik is, a little ways further ahead. He lets the torch drop and pushes himself off the tunnel wall, staggering a bit.

He reaches forward to grab at Sheik's uninjured arm. "Find...where. Stop it...stop...Macra." His eyes roll back in his head and he slumps to the ground, unconscious.

Despite the fact that he feels like he's at the brink of collapse himself, Sheik isn't quite as badly affected as Jamie is - working quickly to nudge Jamie back behind a rock to protect him somewhat, he draws his blade again, holding it awkwardly in his left hand.

It's more the lack of oxygen than the Macra's poison that's affecting him, but nevertheless, he drops into a fighting pose. "Alright, you... you oversized tektite," he tells it grimly, even as he coughs again. "You're not going to get the... get the better of us."

((OOC: Want to cut to after the fight? If Sheik wins, he'll probably manage to drag Jamie a little way down the passage before collapsing himself. If not, uh, I assume they'll just wake up in the ship? Up to you!))

Jamie found himself detached from his body, watching helplessly as Sheik pulled him behind the rock. He would be fascinated - if he wasn't furious at himself for not being clearer about how to stop the Macra. He can see the pipe where the gas that it fed off of was coming from, only a short distance away. If Sheik could find the pipe and block the opening, the creature would drop into state of semi-hibernation and they could get away.

The Macra moved down the tunnel towards Sheik. The passage seemed to be narrower here, and it was a tight fit for the large creature. It swung one massive claw out in an attack despite the limited room. The edge of the claw caught an outcropping of rock, smashing it into smaller pieces. One of the pieces bounced onto the pipe with the sound of rock striking metal, then fell, partially covering the opening.

The amount of gas being pumped into the tunnel dropped, and as the Macra went to attack again, it seemed to be moving slower than before. Jamie felt himself being pulled back into his dream-body, and didn't resist.

He started to come to, coughing again as he inadvertently took a deep breath of the gas already in the area. "Och, my head." He still felt very dizzy, and wasn't sure if he could stay conscious for long. Trying to raise his voice enough to be heard over the sounds of combat, he called, "Sheik...the pipe. Block the pipe!"

Edited 2010-01-20 21:15 (UTC)

Sheik only caught the trail end of it, but it was enough. Switching the hand the blade was on (and cringing as he closed the fingers of his right hand around the hilt), he scrabbled for a rock of the right size.

Then, as hard as he could, he threw it, using solid shadow to guide it unerringly in to the pipe.

Immediately, the amount of gas in the area dropped. Stumbling over, Sheik held out a hand for Jamie. "Come on," he coughed, still out of breath from the exertion and the gas and his broken wrist, to say nothing of the few scratches he had got from attempting to fight off the Macra. "Let's get out of here."

Jamie accepted the hand up, and steadied himself against the rock for a moment while he shook his head and cleared it of the worst of the fumes, then picked up his sword. "Aye, lets!"

The Macra, deprived of the gas it consumed, twitched a little but no longer appeared to be a danger as long as one stayed away. However, it still filled the corridor, allowing no room to get through.

"I hope we don't find ourselves back where we started," Jamie mutters as he starts to feel his way along the rock wall.

"Shouldn't," Sheik nods back as they continue onwards - he can see well enough in the dark. "A little further on, there's a... chamber. Was used as a hidden base. It -" He pauses to cough, dragging in relatively fresh air as they move along. "It should have supplies, and a bit further on is an exit."

And then they'll find Zelda. He almost forgot her, in the fight.

He sighs, and murmurs to himself, "I want to wake up." This was not a good time or place.

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